hole in the bank by the water’s edge for concealment. The hole is well covered and not many know about it. Who can say if the creature is there now?’
‘How do you know all this?’ Adder asked, thinking of the way all the inhabitants of the park had been baffled by the stranger’s secrecy.
‘Quite by accident,’ the female snake informed him. ‘It can only be seen from the stream and I happened to be following a frog.’
‘But why haven’t you told anyone?’ Adder demanded. ‘I assume you’ve been involved in the general alert?’
‘But I have told someone now, haven’t I?’ she answered disarmingly. ‘Because I thought you needed to know.’
Her final remark had scarcely registered its message before she was gone. Adder was left to brood in his solitude, unsure whether he was glad or sorry she had left. He felt strangely restless. He had never experienced uncertainty about himself before.
Adder did no sunbathing that day. He pulled himself together and set off for the stream, but with the she-viper’s caution very much in his mind. He wanted to investigate the lair in the bank. Once in the water, Adder felt he was safe. He swam in one direction, close to the edge of the stream, looking for places where the vegetation was thickest. He saw no hole large enough for the Cat to get into so, despite his feeling of chill, he swam across to the other bank and reversed his direction. He was becoming colder and colder and his movements slower and slower. He knew he would soon have to abandon the stream and search for warmth. Then he sawit – a dark opening in the bank almost obscured by reeds and rushes. He could see at once that its cavernous depths would easily accommodate a whole group of animals. Adder swam on by. He was not such a fool as to approach any closer. The darkness of the hole would comfortably hide whatever creature might be inside it.
When he was far enough away from the lair, the snake slid from the stream and up the bank. He was quite torpid from the cold, and allowed himself to revive in the sun’s warmth, only a metre or so from the water. When he was ready, he rippled away at his swiftest pace to carry the news of his sighting. He was hoping to find Whistler the heron before anyone else. The bird could act as his messenger.
He found him without difficulty, and quickly explained about the hole in the bank and of its importance. He said nothing of the she-viper, but only that ‘another animal’ had given him the clue. It seemed that Whistler had no idea that the hole was there.
‘I look downwards at the water, you see,’ he told Adder, ‘so I’d be looking the wrong way.’
‘Yes,’ said the snake. ‘The hole faces the stream so, unless you could swim, you wouldn’t discover it.’
‘Well,’ said Whistler, ‘at last we’ve got something to get to work on. I’ll tell Fox.’
Adder composed himself to wait, while the tall bird spread his wings. Fox received the information with grim satisfaction.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now we’ll gather as many together as we can and we’ll have the resources to beard our friend in his own den.’
Once again Vixen was wary. ‘I wish we could leave this to the humans,’ she said. ‘The Cat is sure to kill another deer sooner or later, and then they’ll be combing the Park for it.’
‘We can’t trust to that,’ Fox answered. ‘It would almost certainly elude them again. Anyway, we know what they don’t know. We’ve found its hidey-hole.’
‘From what Adder told me, this lair seems to be used only periodically,’ Whistler said.
‘That’s enough,’ said Fox easily. ‘We’re bound to catch him at home some time.’ Then he turned to Vixen again and said softly to her, with all his old affection, ‘You’ve been a wonderful mate to me – no fox could have asked for a better one. I’ve always listened to your advice. But we’ve always looked after our own and our age doesn’t alter our obligations. Husky’s
‘How do you know all this?’ Adder asked, thinking of the way all the inhabitants of the park had been baffled by the stranger’s secrecy.
‘Quite by accident,’ the female snake informed him. ‘It can only be seen from the stream and I happened to be following a frog.’
‘But why haven’t you told anyone?’ Adder demanded. ‘I assume you’ve been involved in the general alert?’
‘But I have told someone now, haven’t I?’ she answered disarmingly. ‘Because I thought you needed to know.’
Her final remark had scarcely registered its message before she was gone. Adder was left to brood in his solitude, unsure whether he was glad or sorry she had left. He felt strangely restless. He had never experienced uncertainty about himself before.
Adder did no sunbathing that day. He pulled himself together and set off for the stream, but with the she-viper’s caution very much in his mind. He wanted to investigate the lair in the bank. Once in the water, Adder felt he was safe. He swam in one direction, close to the edge of the stream, looking for places where the vegetation was thickest. He saw no hole large enough for the Cat to get into so, despite his feeling of chill, he swam across to the other bank and reversed his direction. He was becoming colder and colder and his movements slower and slower. He knew he would soon have to abandon the stream and search for warmth. Then he sawit – a dark opening in the bank almost obscured by reeds and rushes. He could see at once that its cavernous depths would easily accommodate a whole group of animals. Adder swam on by. He was not such a fool as to approach any closer. The darkness of the hole would comfortably hide whatever creature might be inside it.
When he was far enough away from the lair, the snake slid from the stream and up the bank. He was quite torpid from the cold, and allowed himself to revive in the sun’s warmth, only a metre or so from the water. When he was ready, he rippled away at his swiftest pace to carry the news of his sighting. He was hoping to find Whistler the heron before anyone else. The bird could act as his messenger.
He found him without difficulty, and quickly explained about the hole in the bank and of its importance. He said nothing of the she-viper, but only that ‘another animal’ had given him the clue. It seemed that Whistler had no idea that the hole was there.
‘I look downwards at the water, you see,’ he told Adder, ‘so I’d be looking the wrong way.’
‘Yes,’ said the snake. ‘The hole faces the stream so, unless you could swim, you wouldn’t discover it.’
‘Well,’ said Whistler, ‘at last we’ve got something to get to work on. I’ll tell Fox.’
Adder composed himself to wait, while the tall bird spread his wings. Fox received the information with grim satisfaction.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now we’ll gather as many together as we can and we’ll have the resources to beard our friend in his own den.’
Once again Vixen was wary. ‘I wish we could leave this to the humans,’ she said. ‘The Cat is sure to kill another deer sooner or later, and then they’ll be combing the Park for it.’
‘We can’t trust to that,’ Fox answered. ‘It would almost certainly elude them again. Anyway, we know what they don’t know. We’ve found its hidey-hole.’
‘From what Adder told me, this lair seems to be used only periodically,’ Whistler said.
‘That’s enough,’ said Fox easily. ‘We’re bound to catch him at home some time.’ Then he turned to Vixen again and said softly to her, with all his old affection, ‘You’ve been a wonderful mate to me – no fox could have asked for a better one. I’ve always listened to your advice. But we’ve always looked after our own and our age doesn’t alter our obligations. Husky’s
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