Free Lord Morgan's Cannon by MJ Walker Page B

with her huge foot.
    “What is wrong?” Bear asked the fox, who didn’t reply.
    “What is wrong? What is wrong?” cried Bessie.
    She hadn’t yet seen the fox, but the moment she did, she alighted next to Edward on Doris’s back, too nervous to approach any closer. Bear wandered up to the fox, which took to its feet. It bowed its head and withdrew its lips, revealing sharp canine teeth. The giant anteater stood three times taller, with a tail three times longer. He knew he intimidated the fox, so he crouched upon his elbows, so he could look it straight in the eye.
    The fox spoke with a gentle, soft voice that still trembled.
    “They are coming to kill me,” she said.
    “What do you mean?” asked Bear.
    “The hounds. They are coming.”
    The fox looked around herself now, surveying the forest floor.
    “Help me.”
    “There’s nothing to be scared of in this world,” said Doris.
    “For you perhaps,” said Bessie.
    “Come on, let’s stick to the plan,” cried Edward, as he sat upon Doris’s neck, tugging at one of her ears, trying to turn her towards the city.
    “You don’t have to be frightened,” said Bear gently.
    He spoke with a quiet authority, born out of generations of giant anteaters that had faced down mountain lions and ocelots. The vixen trembled some more. Then they heard the wail of a metal horn and the fox was gone, gambling with her life by bolting down a nearby badger set. Surprised, Bear stood and raised his front legs off the ground, elevating his head some six feet high. He looked around, trying to spot the source of this alien metallic cry.
    “Dogs!” Edward shouted.
    Doris took two steps back and instinctively lowered her massive head. She flared her ears as Edward and Bessie held tight. Bear dropped to all four feet as five fox-hounds appeared over a crest in the forest, tongues out, saliva dropping from their teeth as they zigzagged across the ground. Noses to the floor, the dogs didn’t see the huge elephant and anteater in front of them until too late. One ran straight into Doris’s front leg, numbing its head on her shin. Another hit her trunk, which was already scraping the ground. Doris swished her trunk at the indignity of it all, swiping a third dog, as the fourth came face to face with a large, black and white hairy animal with a huge neck and long face. Bear merely blinked at the dog with his small eyes, his spectacles still looped over his tiny ears. The dog barked, then saw Bear’s dirty curved talons. It instantly turned, the fifth fox-hound running with it back over the crest. Just as she did in the circus ring, Doris raised her head and trunk, lifting her two front feet, exposing her deep chest and nipples to the three dogs. Her shadow swept over them and they too turned on their haunches and bolted, barking at a higher pitch than before. A horn sounded again. From his vantage point, Edward saw three red-coated riders galloping on horses through the woods, a pack of fox-hounds running in front.
    “Be quiet!” he said, as the riders and dogs glided through the trees and out of sight again.
    Doris couldn’t settle. She shuffled to and fro, trunk swaying, occasionally letting out a heavy breath as Bessie chattered away, reliving the commotion.
    Then came another dog, smaller, with a longer, wilder coat. It ran lower to the ground, moving with greater intensity but less grace than those before. Ignoring the troupe of circus animals, it made straight for the entrance to the badger set. It shoved its face into the hole and wagged its tail. It staggered back, barked at the darkness and tried to enter, its shoulders preventing it from pursuing the fox. It too was trying to hunt the vixen.
    The circus animals had never seen such a thing. Protected by their parents in the wild, they had witnessed few predators at work. And those chases they had heard about from their elders involved some big fierce animal taking something much smaller, each kill quick and painless. But