Fox's Feud Read Free

in question chose to investigate the family’s visitor and approached the owl, wagging his little tail.
    ‘Already as big as me,’ Tawny Owl said with amusement. The little cub sat down directly next to him and commenced to sniff him all over. Finally he lay down over Tawny Owl’s talons and sighed deeply.
    ‘I think this one’s just named himself,’ the owlremarked. ‘At any rate, I shall call him Friendly.’
    ‘An excellent name,’ Fox assented. ‘Don’t you think so, dear?’
    Vixen nodded happily. There seemed to be nothing that could disturb the peace of such a perfect day. For a while longer Tawny Owl watched the cubs playing and then, finding it increasingly difficult to stifle his yawns, he made an excuse and flew back to his tree for a long nap before dark.
    At dusk he awoke with a start to see a familiar shape skulking in the shadows. The scarfaced fox had evidently decided to resume his reconnaisance.
    ‘What on earth is he up to?’ Tawny Owl muttered to himself, as he watched the animal pause at one of the entrances to Fox’s earth. ‘He’s listening for something, I’ll be bound.’
    The beast stood motionless, head cocked at an angle, for some moments. Then he sniffed carefully all round the entrance and listened again. Finally he moved slowly off into the darkness.
    Tawny Owl was puzzled. ‘Very curious,’ he commented.
    He was still cogitating when Fox emerged from the earth and paused while he, too, sniffed the air. Then he looked up towards the willow. ‘Are you there, Owl?’ he called.
    ‘Yes.’ Tawny Owl alighted on the ground beside him.
    ‘Have you seen anything?’ Fox asked him.
    ‘Scarface has been back.’ Tawny Owl described his movements.
    ‘I knew it. I smelt him.’
    ‘He must have detected your scent,’ Tawny Owl surmised, ‘and then decided to go back.’
    ‘Exactly. Had I been out hunting . . .’ The friends exchanged glances.
    ‘You can rely on me,’ declared Tawny Owl. ‘I’ll see no harm’s done.’
    ‘But, with all due respect, would you be a match for such a tough customer?’ Fox queried hesitantly.
    ‘Vixen and I together could deal with him, if necessary,’ the bird assured him. ‘And, in any case, it may not come to anything. Perhaps it’s just harmless curiosity?’
    ‘Perhaps,’ said Fox. ‘But I don’t like it. His secretiveness . . .’
    ‘Are you hunting tonight?’ Tawny Owl asked him.
    ‘No. I’ll stay put this time. But tomorrow I must. And then . . .?’
    ‘Maybe we’ll learn a little more about our interested visitor,’ said Tawny Owl coolly. ‘As for now, I think I’ll pay a call on Badger. We don’t want him to feel he’s being left out of anything.’

The next night was clear and crisp, with a bright half moon. Tawny Owl was in position on the willow branch well before dark, and Badger joined him at the foot of the tree, concealed in a clump of bracken.
    When it was quite dark, Fox quitted his earth to go hunting. He gave no sign of any kind that he was aware of his friends’ presence. They saw him trot nonchalantly away in the moonlight.
    For some time all was quiet. Badger shivered once or twice in the chill evening air and wished he could move about a bit. Neither he nor Tawny Owl spoke. A breeze began to whisper through the leaves of the willow, and with it another faint sound – a regular pattering sound.Footsteps! Badger tensed under the bracken. The noise came nearer . . . pitter patter, pitter patter . . . and then a long, dog-like shadow was visible on the ground. The pattering ceased. Out into the moonlight came the scarfaced fox, treading very slowly and carefully towards the main entrance to the cubs’ den.
    By the opening he stopped again and looked all round warily, snuffling the air. For a moment he looked towards the spot where Badger was hidden. The moon shone full on his face, scarred and hideous from a score of battles. Despite himself, Badger’s stout old heart missed a beat. Then the animal