The Animals of Farthing Wood by Colin Dann

Author:Colin Dann
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781780312989
Publisher: Egmont UK Ltd
Published: 2012-09-03T07:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

Journey to White Deer Park

19

Fox alone

From the middle of the river Fox watched a huge mass of driftwood and debris floating downstream towards him. He was tired – terribly tired – and he knew he was too far from the shore to avoid the impact. In a few seconds the mass was upon him, engulfing him. One of the larger pieces of wood dealt him a sharp rap on the head, and he was carried away on the current.

Despite his struggles, he was unable to resist the pressure exerted by the heavy brushwood, and he was carried helplessly along. In a last, frantic, backward glance, he saw his friends on the bank running, trying to keep pace with him, but he knew it was impossible for them.

In a few minutes, Fox was entirely alone. All his effort was concentrated on keeping his head above water.

Eventually he was carried into a stretch of calm water, and here he managed to ease himself a little. He was able to pull himself far enough out of the river to rest his front legs on the collection of large sticks and branches surrounding him. In this position he travelled a considerable distance, while day gradually dawned.

The water was cool and refreshing, and as he was not able to swim – enmeshed as he was in the driftwood – he had very soon recovered a good deal from his previous exhaustion. But as he floated downstream on his tiny island, farther and farther away from his friends, Fox wondered if he would ever feel solid ground underfoot again.

The wood-pile carried him over a weir, from which he emerged none the worse except for a fright and a good ducking. He floated into less peaceful water, becoming more and more of a speck in the broadening river. He drifted past anglers and picnickers, past houseboats and rowing-boats; he drifted underneath overhanging willows and alongside big pleasure-steamers thronged with passengers in thin summer clothes. But nobody saw him. Nobody remarked on the waterborne fox.

He had begun to feel quite convinced that before long he would be washed out to sea – that vast, terrible expanse of water he had heard tales about – when his situation suddenly changed.

As he floated under a bridge, there, directly in his path, was a small motor-boat. The man inside had obviously been fishing, for he was getting the last of his tackle aboard. The wood surrounding Fox caught against the outboard motor, and finally came to rest.

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