The Fox Cub Bold Read Free

The next time he turned they had gone on their way. Bold stopped running.
    When he had recovered from the danger of his first encounter with man, he took stock of his situation. It seemed to him that, once again, the threat of danger had turned out to be groundless. His relief was tremendous. His self-confidence took another boost but this, for Bold, was to prove to be his real danger.

—— 3 ——
The Game Wood
    Over the next few weeks Bold ranged wide and far. He entered an area of human habitation – of farmland and scattered hamlets. He had attained his full size and was a splendid specimen of a male fox. He was well-built, muscular, with a beautifully healthy coat and brush; he was also clean-limbed and able to run quite tirelessly at a considerable speed. Though he had the sense not to stray too close to the man-made buildings and dwellings, he had developed a fearlessness of his only real enemy which amounted to arrogance. His innate cunning and cleverness were more than a match for Man’s.
    Food was plentiful and his diet was a varied one. On one occasion he killed a cock partridge as it rose from the ground in front of him. From that moment on he acquired a taste for game. In his nightly hunting forays his continual searchings took him to every corner of the district, but he was not often successful. Then one evening he came to a place where the scent of game seemed to hang in the air. It was a wooded area entirely fenced off from the surrounding countryside, but the fence was old, warped and damaged and no obstacle to a determined young fox.
    Inside the boundary there was evidence of the scent of Man. Where the ground was soft and damp the unmistakable marks of his trail were plain to see, but Bold had no concern for it. He was on the track of something of far more interest. His mouth watered freely in anticipation of the delicious meal that awaited him. Cautiously, noiselessly, he stole through the undergrowth. He knew his quarry was not far away.
    Under a thick cover of bramble a hen pheasant was disturbed from her rest. Bold pounced and, with a quick snap of his powerful young jaws, all was over. That night he feasted handsomely.
    There was a large beech tree standing on a hump of ground, the roots of which were partially exposed. Underneath the roots an invitingly secluded hole attracted Bold’s notice. He sniffed carefully all around and inside it. The smell of badger was very strong, but no sound could be heard and Bold decided the occupants were away from home. He had no fear of badger. An old male animal – a close companion of his father’s – had figured largely in his early life in the Reserve. Bold went inside the hole and along the tunnel for a few paces before curling up to sleep.
    Towards morning he awoke instantly at the approach of the owner of the set. Bold prepared to leave his makeshift den – it had served his purpose well. At the entrance to the tunnel a sow badger was standing uncertainly, sniffing the air around her home with caution. An encounter with a fox was not one to be undertaken without hesitation.
    But Bold was disposed to be friendly. ‘Please don’t be alarmed,’ he said. ‘I certainly mean no harm.’
    ‘Are you alone?’ the badger asked nervously.
    ‘Quite alone,’ Bold replied.
    ‘Foxes and badgers tend to keep apart in this wood,’ she went on. ‘That must be why I’ve never seen you before.’
    ‘No. I’m a stranger hereabouts,’ Bold told her. ‘I only found the spot by chance.’
    ‘Then I can guess your reason for coming here.’
    ‘I was led here by my nose.’ Bold explained jocularly.
    ‘Yes, a lot of foxes come for the same reason,’ remarked the badger. ‘Most of them don’t stay long, however.’
    ‘Competition?’ asked the cub.
    ‘You could say that,’ she answered, ‘though it’s not the sort of competition you’re thinking of.’
    ‘What then?’
    ‘Haven’t you seen the footprints?’
    ‘Oh, yes. But I paid no attention