Free Journey to Freedom by Colin Dann Page B

again if you had crossed me.’
    ‘Probably not,’ the badger answered, unperturbed. ‘Lead on, lion.’
    ‘Complete silence now,’ Lorna urged as she once again caught the scent of prey. She stalked alongside the hedge, slightly irritated by the rustling of the badger’s feet behind her. Her eyes picked out an animal lying as still as death against the lowest thorns. She dropped to her belly and crawled forward cautiously. The animal didn’t move. It was quite dead. When the lioness realised this she hurried forward again.
    A still-born lamb had been placed deliberately to forestall Lorna’s designs on the calf. The police had obtained the dairy farmer’s agreement to the plan following the newspaper’s request. The natural casualty had been procured from the nearby sheep flock and it was hoped this would serve to distract the lioness until her old keeper arrived the next day. However, in case the ruse didn’t work, two police officers stood on guard on the farm ready to shoot if they had to.
    Lorna sniffed at the body hungrily. It was a small meal for her, but she was ravenous and couldn’t ignore it. She snatched up the carcass and ran back to the cover of the trees. The honey badger trotted after her hopefully.
    Lorna snarled at him. ‘There will be none for you, Ratel.’ She busied herself with tearing off the remnantsof wool while the badger watched. ‘No more than a morsel for a lion. Find your own prey.’
    Ratel had had an idea. ‘All right, I will,’ he said. He turned his back on Lorna and trotted down the slope once more towards the thorn hedge. He heard the crunch of bones as the lioness’s powerful jaws dismembered the tiny lamb. Lorna was too absorbed with her meal to notice where the badger was heading. ‘First to the prize after all,’ he murmured to himself.
    He scaled the prickly hedge easily, just as before, and made for the barn. Nobody on guard was on the lookout for a small animal like a badger. He slipped through the darkness, arousing no more than a passing interest from a fox on the prowl for rabbits. Every so often Ratel stopped in his tracks. It wouldn’t be long before Lorna would have devoured the lamb and be on his tail. He listened carefully. He was excited.
    The barn was closed. There was no way in now for a lion, but it was an old barn, and some of the boards were damaged. There were gaps for a small animal to wriggle through; the honey badger was capable of squeezing through surprisingly small spaces. He found one that would serve and scrambled through. The cow and her calf lay in a corner, the cow peacefully chewing some hay. The badger listened carefully. All he could hear was the champing of her teeth.
    ‘She doesn’t suspect yet,’ the badger chortled to himself. ‘What a din there will be when the lion discovers I’ve played a trick on her!’
    Mother and calf got to their feet, suddenly sensing danger. The badger trotted forward and at once the cow began to stamp nervously and moo. The calf echoed her alarm. The badger was about to dart between them when there was a tremendous roar in the distance which he recognised at once. He stoodrooted to the spot. Lorna was calling him. She was furious.
    The men keeping watch on the farm tightened their grips on their weapons. Powerful lights were switched on. Their beams swept the farmyard and the farm’s precincts, pasture and meadow, while Lorna continued to roar. Ratel marvelled at the noise, his skin bristling. The cow and calf were terrified. The lioness, angry and vengeful, was climbing the thorn hedge, her anger overriding her discomfort. Her face was scratched, her skin torn, but she ignored the irritation. The cunning of the honey badger had surprised and riled her beyond bearing. She was not so much furious with him as furious with herself for failing to anticipate his deception. She teetered on the top of the hedge. Thorny twigs and stems snapped beneath her weight and showered to the ground as she steadied