The Farthing Wood Collection 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

youngsters we should get along with everyone as best we can, because in that way Farthing Wood thrives. But it seems you’re set on disruption.’
    ‘Disruption? No,’ Smooth Otter chuckled. ‘We just enjoy life whichever way we can. So catching prey can be as much fun for us as anything else. Too bad most of you are such a dull lot!’ He bounded away, jigging this way and that around some chestnut saplings.
    Young Badger watched and shook his head. ‘I’m afraid otters and woodlanders simply don’t blend,’ he murmured.
    When the glut of frogs was over for that spring, other otters had no alternative but to return to hunting small mammals. The badgers were not the only inhabitants of Farthing Wood who felt a crisis was looming. The squirrels and hedgehogs and many of the woodland birds, who were not among the hunted, watched the behaviour of the otters with alarm.
    ‘Someone should t-try to c-calm them down,’ Nervous Squirrel stammered. He sat on a high branch watching a pair of otters chasing Quick Weasel beneath the trees. ‘They’re so un settling .’
    ‘Madness!’ screeched Jay who couldn’t keep still when there was any disturbance. He flew to another tree. ‘Madness! The foxes are gathering, I’ve seenthem. When they’re not being robbed, they’re being goaded and irritated.’
    ‘Hunting calls for silence and perseverance,’ an owl fluted from a hollow oak. ‘I should know. There’s just no peace and quiet any more.’
    ‘W-why don’t we t-tell them?’ Nervous Squirrel chattered. ‘Tell them to p-pipe down. And – and –’
    ‘And respect the ways of others?’ the owl suggested.
    ‘Yes. Ex-exactly.’
    ‘Some of us have tried, but the otters won’t compromise. They’re the jokers of the animal world. They have no seriousness.’
    The foxes were indeed planning to take action. The youngsters had been tested to the limit and were looking for some support from their seniors. Groups of foxes began to debate their grievances and it was these gatherings that Jay had watched from the tree-tops. Lean Vixen backed up the young foxes.
    ‘I warned the big otter about the consequences if he and his kind continued with their tricks,’ she told a large group of all ages. ‘My mate and I are ready to do whatever’s necessary. It’s time we struck a blow.’
    Lean Fox hadn’t been consulted about whether he was in agreement with this. He said nothing therefore, hoping the others wouldn’t realize the vixen was dominant.
    The young foxes related their experiences. Time and time again otters had interfered with their hunting techniques, sneaking prey from them and deriding them afterwards.
    ‘It’s intolerable,’ said one. ‘We can never hold our heads up again if we let them get away with it.’
    ‘Otters or foxes,’ Lean Vixen growled, ‘one grouphas to come out on top.’ She looked around the gathering and her eyes rested on Lean Fox. ‘And it won’t be the otters!’
    ‘No. No, it won’t be,’ he concurred hastily. ‘Tomorrow night we’ll muster. All of us who care for our way of life – our fox ways – must take part. We’ll chase those slippery pests from the Wood!’
    Lean Vixen grinned a foxy grin. These were strong words; rousing words. The young foxes were satisfied. They ran off to carry the message to as many others of their kind in Farthing Wood as could be found.
    The next evening the foxes rallied. With Stout Fox and Lean Vixen at their head, they trotted quietly through the depths of the Wood, intent on forestalling the otters close by the stream. Little light filtered through the budding branches but, at the edge of the woodland, the setting sun shone on the glistening water, turning it blood red. The foxes stood silently.
    ‘It’s an omen,’ whispered a youngster. ‘Blood will be shed.’
    Stout Fox murmured grimly, ‘Yes. I fear blood will flow if the otters persist in their ways.’
    ‘You can count on it,’ Lean Vixen snarled. ‘Before the Wood