Free The Fox Cub Bold by Colin Dann

not jump. He soon realized he was indeed handicapped for he was thus effectively debarred from entering most of the gardens. Of course he was able to contort himself wonderfully to slink through the slightest gap; he could flatten himself to scramble underneath an obstacle; he could even dig; but any sort of leap was absolutely beyond his scope.
    On that first exploratory roam around Bold succeeded in visiting a number of yards and gardens and this was when he discovered what was to be the mainstay of his food supply for weeks to come – the dustbin. Once he had got used to the clang that some of them made what a remarkable collection of unwanted scraps he found in these receptacles! There was always something, it seemed, of which use could be made. It was almost as if the improvident humans had attempted to encourage him to feast upon these puzzling little dumps of food. Bold accepted each and every thing gratefully as he came to realize that his survival appeared to be ensured. Winter would not claim him as a victim after all.
    His inquisitiveness kept him so busy that he forgot how far he was from his new hideaway. Dawn was stealing across the sky as he hastily set off on the return journey. He did not remember his duty to Robber, for he went empty-jawed. Back along the human paths he hobbled until he reached the playing fields. The noise had started up again as he made haste across the wide open space. Only when he reached the waste plot did he realize he had not kept to his bargain.
    Robber arrived at the spot, intending to leave Bold to snooze peacefully. He waddled along the ground, jerkily turning his head this way and that as he searched for the delicacy he was sure the fox would have brought him. Of course, there was none. Robber wondered if Bold had not returned. He flew up to a branch and spied out the land. No sign of any animal. Then he ‘cawed’ three or four times loudly and harshly with annoyance.
    ‘I’m here,’ Bold owned up.
    ‘Ah, now I see you,’ said the crow. ‘Were you unsuccessful?’
    ‘Er – no, not exactly,’ Bold replied awkwardly.
    There was a pause. ‘Oh! So our bargain is to be a one-sided sort, is it?’ remarked the crow.
    ‘Not at all,’ Bold hastened to explain. ‘I – I was caught rather far from home when dawn broke.’
    ‘I see. Well, as you are still in my debt I shall not be expected to find you anything now?’
    ‘Of course not,’ said Bold in a small voice.
    Robber flew away immediately, without another word. Bold did feel a little shamed and decided he would make up for his failure on his next trip.
    The next evening came round wonderfully quickly. December arrived with a stinging squall of sleet that drove across the open fields in a spray of ice-needles. The fox’s eyes smarted as he battled against the blast, cursing the handicap of his limp. But there was shelter amongst Man’s buildings and Bold again began to enjoy his exploring. In one yard he found two bowls, one containing milk; the other fish. He greatly appreciated the thoughtfulness of the humans who had supplied them. There didn’t seem to be any other animals nearby to claim the bowls’ contents.
    He went on cautiously, snapping up pieces of bread missed by birds in one garden, knocking over bins in another to raid the pungent-smelling collections that spilled from them. He had learnt to retire quickly behind a plant or other screen as the bin crashed down; then, if nothing happened after a few minutes, he slunk back to select his pickings. Sometimes the clattering he caused did bring a human into the open. On those occasions, Bold was out of the garden and well away from the scene before he could be noticed.
    On this evening he was to find that there were competitors for his food. He was looking into a large fenced area of lawn and flower beds behind an imposing house. The sleet fell slantwise across the grass in a sort of mist. Out of the shadows around the building there trotted a brisk,