Free The Siege of White Deer Park by Colin Dann Page A

of your offspring.’
    ‘Oh, I have done,’ Ranger assured him. ‘But I have no control, you must understand. They’re not cubs – any of them.’
    ‘You’re all cubs in temperament,’ Adder told him bluntly. ‘Playing around with something that could be lethal.’
    Ranger objected to Adder’s tone of superiority. He – Ranger – was no refugee from Farthing Wood who was obliged to respect the foibles of his comrades. ‘You’re entitled to your opinion,’ he told the snake, ‘for what it’s worth. But I think the subject of tracking and outmanoeuvring a mammal is best left to those who know about these things.’
    Adder was not in the least put out. He had the patience to wait for his words to be proved true by future events.
    Ranger did not tarry. He wanted to get back to Charmer and see that all was safe with their new litter.
    Charmer greeted him with her customary sweetness. She soon allayed his fears and then asked him if he and the others had been successful.
    ‘No,’ said Ranger. ‘Not successful. Only the Beast continues to be that. He is a proficient hunter and I think will always evade any of our stumbling efforts.’
    ‘The deer herd is very much in peril then,’ Charmer surmised. ‘How glad I am fox meat is no delicacy.’ She shuddered as she looked at her cubs.
    Ranger looked too, and the sight of the tiny bundles of fur huddling together for warmth steeled his resolve. Yes, Friendly was right. They must go on. For what sort of future could there be for these little ones – or any of them – whilst they were all in this stranger’s power?
    ‘The white stags must long for their new antlers to grow,’ he murmured. ‘They are the herd’s only protection.’ He lay down next to his mate. Charmer nuzzled him comfortingly. Outside the den, dawn hovered on the horizon.
    At first light Adder stirred. Toad was deep in his bower of soft soil and leaves. The snake slid noiselessly away. The she-viper was again in his thoughts. Adder found himself moving in her direction. He had not decided what sort of approach he would use with her and, as he went along, he endeavoured to compose a really choice remark. But the female had gone on her way, and Adder was left to wonder about her – and ponder, his hurts forgotten.
* * * * *
    Later that day the Park’s inhabitants became aware that some new scheme was being put into action by the Warden. He and three other men were working by the perimeter of the Reserve, on a piece of open ground about half a kilometre from the Warden’s cottage. They did not at first realize what was happening, for the sight of men and their tools and machinery frightened them and they kept well away. But as the day went on, birds who flew over the area were able to report on events. It seemed that part of the Park was being cordoned off. Using the boundary fence on one side, an enclosure was being erected with extra poles and bars which looked like a miniature reserve within the Reserve. The curiosity of the animals was profound but, naturally, they dared not go anywhere near the work. By late afternoon it was complete. Whistler decided to go and have a look for the benefit of his own particular animal friends.
    When the heron flew over the construction, the men had left taking all their equipment with them. Already a few of the most inquisitive beasts were gathering to make an inspection. From the air the fencing could be seen as forming a circle. There was a single opening.
    ‘Now what on earth is it for?’ Whistler asked himself. He made sure he looked at it from all sides, so that he could describe it accurately to the others. ‘Something is to be put in it, that’s clear.’ He flew away, racking his brains for a solution.
    Fox and Vixen, Weasel and Leveret were waiting for Whistler’s return. When he told them, in the greatest detail, what he had seen, they put their heads together.
    ‘It sounds like a sort of cage,’ Vixen said.
    ‘Of course!’ cried Weasel.