Colin Dann - The Animals of Farthing Wood

‘Tut, tut. Don’t be alarmed,’ Badger reassured them. ‘Fox and I have merely come to examine the stream. It’s the only piece of water left to us now, you know.’ He smiled kindly. ‘We’re all in this together – big and small alike. There must be no . . . er . . . er . . .’ He broke off, unable to find the right words.

‘Differences of opinion?’ suggested Fox, with just the beginnings of a grin.

‘Er . . . quite,’ replied Badger. ‘How diplomatic.’ He peered forward over the bank, his weak eyes straining in the darkness. ‘Oh dear!’ he exclaimed. ‘Oh dear, oh dear!’

At this point the rolled-up hedgehogs unrolled themselves, and the young ones began to squeak excitedly: ‘It’s dried up! All dried up!’

From under the trees, and from the entrance to their burrows, the rabbits edged forward again, wondering what the clever Fox and experienced Badger would decide to do. One by one they seated themselves, still a little nervously, on the bank, keeping in a group as they watched Fox and Badger discussing the situation.

The fieldmice returned too, and pretty soon their noses, like the rabbits’, were all twitching expectantly.

‘There will have to be an Assembly,’ Fox was saying. ‘Everyone must attend. We ought to discuss this problem together, so that everyone will be able to put forward their ideas.’

Badger nodded. ‘Yes. It must be held without delay,’ he said. ‘The situation is critical. Our lives are in danger.’ He looked earnestly at Fox. ‘I suggest no later than tomorrow night – at twelve,’ he said.

Fox was agreeable. ‘Will you chair the meeting?’ he asked.

‘Certainly. Unless Tawny Owl . . .’

‘Oh, Owl! He probably won’t even come. You know what he’s like. Can’t bear anyone else to arrange anything,’ grumbled Fox.

‘He must come,’ insisted Badger. ‘I’ll tell him so myself. When an Assembly is called, the whole of Farthing Wood has to attend. Five years ago, my father chaired the Assembly that was called when the humans first started to build here. There were more of us then, of course. Farthing Wood was almost a forest in those days, with a large stretch of grassland all round it, and also . . .’

‘Yes, yes,’ Fox cut in, a little impatiently. He knew Badger loved to talk about ‘The Old Days’, but once he started it was sometimes very difficult to divert him. ‘We know what it used to be like,’ he said. ‘But we’re concerned about what it’s like at present. My father,’ he added, in case Badger was offended, ‘was at that Assembly. But no good came of it. What could mere animals do?’

‘So true,’ mumbled Badger sadly. ‘But this time, unless we’re all to die of thirst, something has got to be done.’

He turned towards the group of onlookers. ‘Fox and I are agreed that an Assembly of the animals of Farthing Wood must be called,’ he announced. ‘You should all arrive at my set by twelve o’clock tomorrow night.’ He began to digress again. ‘There’s plenty of room for everyone. Once upon a time many families of badgers lived there, but now I’m the sole survivor . . .’ He sighed reminiscently: ‘The last of a long line of Farthing Wood badgers, going back for centuries.’

‘We must spread the word to the others,’ Fox cut in quickly. ‘You rabbits must find Hare and his family, and, fieldmice, you can pass the word to the voles. Badger knows where to find Weasel, and I myself will look out for Adder and the lizards. Any of you who are about during the daytime can tell the squirrels about it.’

‘What about the birds?’ asked one of the hedgehogs.

‘We’ll leave them to Tawny Owl,’ replied Fox.

‘Badger was right – he must play his part.’

‘I’ll tell him when I get back home,’ said Badger. ‘Now don’t forget, all of you. Twelve o’clock tomorrow night.’

The smaller animals scurried away, the younger ones chattering excitedly and feeling important because of the duties entrusted to them.

Badger turned to Fox. ‘You’d better impress on Adder,’ he warned, ‘that we haven’t arranged this meeting to provide him with a wonderful opportunity to gorge himself. Remind him that every creature attending an Assembly is strictly bound by the Oath of Common Safety.’

‘Your father introduced that, I believe?’ Fox queried.

‘He did,’ replied Badger seriously. ‘It was very necessary, to prevent the possibility of bullying or fighting. Do you think Adder will listen to you?’

‘As much as he ever does,’ Fox replied evasively. He shrugged. ‘But I think even Adder respects the rules of the Assembly.’

They stood a little longer; then Badger turned to go. Fox called him back. ‘What about Mole?’ he asked.

‘Oh, don’t worry about him,’ Badger managed to laugh. ‘Once he hears all the feet running overhead, he’ll soon surface to discover what all the commotion is about.’

Fox grinned. ‘Till tomorrow then,’ he said.

‘Till tomorrow,’ said Badger.

2

The assembly

By eleven o’clock Badger felt that everything was ready. Since he had risen, he had been busy enlarging one of the unoccupied chambers of his set to a size which would accommodate everyone who was likely to attend the Assembly. Even with his powerful digging claws, it had been exceptionally hard work. The soil was dry and hard, and he had to remove all the loose earth into one of the unused corridors. Then, outside, he had gathered together several mounds of dry leaves, and dragged them down, backwards, into the chamber, spreading them evenly over the floor.

When he had finished, he had sallied out again, this time to the borders of the wood. Underneath the hedgerows he gathered together a number of glow-worms, which he tucked into the thickest parts of his fur, in order to transport them back in bulk. Back at the set, he stowed the little insects at intervals along the entrance corridor, and with those he had left over he illuminated the Assembly Chamber, placing them in tiny clusters, just as he had watched his father do before him.

At length, satisfied with his evening’s work, he left his set again to dig up a few roots and bulbs for his supper, which, garnished with a number of beetles, made a welcome meal. It was now eleven-thirty, and Badger decided to take a short nap before the other animals started to arrive.

He did not seem to have been dozing in his sleeping-chamber for more than a few minutes when he heard the old church clock strike twelve in the distance, and simultaneously he heard voices outside. He jumped up and wriggled his way quickly to the exit. It was Weasel, who had arrived with Fox.

‘Go straight down the corridor on your left, Weasel,’ said Badger. ‘After a little way it turns to the right. Take the first turning left after that bend into the Assembly Chamber, and make yourself comfortable. I’ll join you in a moment.’

Weasel followed his directions and the glow-worm lights, and had only just disappeared from view when more voices could be heard approaching. They belonged to the rabbits and Hare and his family. Just behind them came the fieldmice.

‘Fox, will you go down and keep Weasel company?’ Badger asked. ‘I’d better stay here to direct the others.’

‘Of course,’ said Fox and, bowing his head, he eased himself into the tunnel.

‘This way, everyone!’ called Badger. ‘Straight in there.’ He used his snout to indicate the entrance. ‘Just follow the little lights.’

The rabbits, in their particularly timid manner, were unable to decide on who should be the first one down the hole, and they began quarrelling until Hare, with some impatience, said, ‘I’ll lead.’ He nudged his mate encouragingly. ‘Come on dear. And you, children! Our cousins and the fieldmice will be right behind us.’