Read Online Journey to Freedom by Colin Dann - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Colin Dann
Ads: Link
pasture and emerged from the woodland at a point where there was more open country. Here was hilly terrain interspersed with some pockets of farmland. Lorna had travelled purposefully, never looking back, but she suspected her badger friend was too inquisitive to let her go alone. A strong wind was blowing from the west. It was a warm wind and it carried with it a strong mix of scents, amongst which Lorna detected the rich odour of comfortable, well-fed beasts. She paused to listen for their voices, needing some guidance before she went further. The wind drowned most sounds. There was, however, one faint but insistent animal cry. Lorna didn’t recognise it except in so faras it sounded like a beast in pain. It was the clue she wanted. Without turning her head she said, ‘If you’re there, Ratel, this is the way to go,’ and set off down a slope towards the source of the cry.
The honey badger was amused. ‘She knows me all right,’ he muttered to himself.
At the bottom of the slope they found a hedge; an impenetrable tangle of thick thorn. Lorna patrolled its length, looking for a possible opening, but found none. She snarled with vexation. It seemed to the hungry lioness that there was food to be had on the other side if only she could get to it. She tried to assess the height of the hedge in the darkness. She could see that it was too high to leap over.
The animal cries had stopped. They had come from a cow in labour; the calf was delivered now and mother and baby were occupied with each other. The smell of the new-born calf, though it was some distance away in a barn, was very strong, for the straw on which the calf had dropped was heavily impregnated with its scent. The lioness knew she had to climb the hedge to reach it, but thorns and prickles deterred her. She growled louder and louder, exasperated with the obstacle.
‘There’s no avoiding discomfort here,’ the honey badger stated. ‘Go on, lion. You’ll be up and over before you know you’re hurt.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ Lorna snapped irritably, ‘with your weird thick skin.’
‘All right,’ said Ratel. ‘I’ll show you how.’ He grasped a stout branch and began to claw his way up. He was an excellent climber and in no time he had reached the top. ‘Nothing to it,’ he announced, ‘but keep your eyes closed.’ He climbed just as easily down the other side.
Lorna still hesitated. The thorns reminded her of the bee-stings, ready to pierce and prick her. She hadsuffered severely last time and was loath to risk further injury. She growled furiously at the badger, the hedge and herself. ‘I’ll have to find another way,’ she roared finally and set off to seek some way of circumventing the thorns.
The badger fairly glowed, revelling in his superiority. ‘I’m ahead of the lion,’ he whispered to himself. ‘The first choice must be mine.’
Dawn glimmered in the east as the determined little animal followed the calf’s scent. He heard Lorna’s roars of frustration rumbling beyond the man-made barrier. Some cattle stood in a field, cropping grass where it grew thickest. Despite their size, Ratel was not afraid of them. Only humans had the power to frighten him. He reached the barn where the black and white cow was suckling her new calf and trotted in, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. The cow swung round to face him, putting herself between the interloper and her offspring. She lowed a warning, dropping her massive head.
The badger was undeterred. He ran around, aiming nips at the beast’s legs and completely unsettling the calf, who bleated in its fright. The slow, heavy mother turned this way and that, trampling the straw and bellowing alarm. Outside, the other cattle raised their heads and tensed, sensing the danger. It was growing lighter by the minute. The badger had left it too late; the cow’s mooing had been heard by the herdsman, who was already on his way and now increased his pace. The man’s boots rattled on the
The honey badger was amused. ‘She knows me all right,’ he muttered to himself.
At the bottom of the slope they found a hedge; an impenetrable tangle of thick thorn. Lorna patrolled its length, looking for a possible opening, but found none. She snarled with vexation. It seemed to the hungry lioness that there was food to be had on the other side if only she could get to it. She tried to assess the height of the hedge in the darkness. She could see that it was too high to leap over.
The animal cries had stopped. They had come from a cow in labour; the calf was delivered now and mother and baby were occupied with each other. The smell of the new-born calf, though it was some distance away in a barn, was very strong, for the straw on which the calf had dropped was heavily impregnated with its scent. The lioness knew she had to climb the hedge to reach it, but thorns and prickles deterred her. She growled louder and louder, exasperated with the obstacle.
‘There’s no avoiding discomfort here,’ the honey badger stated. ‘Go on, lion. You’ll be up and over before you know you’re hurt.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ Lorna snapped irritably, ‘with your weird thick skin.’
‘All right,’ said Ratel. ‘I’ll show you how.’ He grasped a stout branch and began to claw his way up. He was an excellent climber and in no time he had reached the top. ‘Nothing to it,’ he announced, ‘but keep your eyes closed.’ He climbed just as easily down the other side.
Lorna still hesitated. The thorns reminded her of the bee-stings, ready to pierce and prick her. She hadsuffered severely last time and was loath to risk further injury. She growled furiously at the badger, the hedge and herself. ‘I’ll have to find another way,’ she roared finally and set off to seek some way of circumventing the thorns.
The badger fairly glowed, revelling in his superiority. ‘I’m ahead of the lion,’ he whispered to himself. ‘The first choice must be mine.’
Dawn glimmered in the east as the determined little animal followed the calf’s scent. He heard Lorna’s roars of frustration rumbling beyond the man-made barrier. Some cattle stood in a field, cropping grass where it grew thickest. Despite their size, Ratel was not afraid of them. Only humans had the power to frighten him. He reached the barn where the black and white cow was suckling her new calf and trotted in, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere. The cow swung round to face him, putting herself between the interloper and her offspring. She lowed a warning, dropping her massive head.
The badger was undeterred. He ran around, aiming nips at the beast’s legs and completely unsettling the calf, who bleated in its fright. The slow, heavy mother turned this way and that, trampling the straw and bellowing alarm. Outside, the other cattle raised their heads and tensed, sensing the danger. It was growing lighter by the minute. The badger had left it too late; the cow’s mooing had been heard by the herdsman, who was already on his way and now increased his pace. The man’s boots rattled on the
Similar Books
