Read Online Little Foxes by Michael Morpurgo - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Morpurgo
Tags: Age 7 and up
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water after him and plunged into the forest before turning to see if they were being followed. He crouched in the shadows and watched.
Not fifty paces from them two men came out into the field, each of them carrying a gun, a little Jack Russell terrier sniffing the ground around them. ‘I saw it,’ said one of them. ‘Big it was and brown, I saw it, honest. Could’ve been a deer, even. Gone to cover in the Brigadier’s wood. He’s got dozens of them in there. He won’t notice if there’s one missing, will he? Come on, let’s go in after him. It’s worth a bit, is a deer. Look, the dog’s after him, he’s got his scent, I told you, I told you.’ And sure enough the little Jack Russell was bustling down through the grass towards them, yapping as he came.
Upward was the only way to go. Billy dug his toes into the soft earth and forced his legs to run. The fox needed no whistling on now. He trotted on easily in front, tongue hanging out. They could hear behind them that the hunters were in the woods too, and that the yapping terrier was coming even closer. Billy ran now because the fox ran. He drove himself on, pounding the air with his arms, whispering through gritted teeth, ‘Faster, faster, faster. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’
With the forest behind them filling with excited voices they reached the forest path at the top of the hill. The fox immediately turned right as if he knew the way, so Billy followed him. Billy sensed that the fox was leading him somewhere, and he was far too tired to argue. When the fox left the track and bounded up the bank into more trees, Billy clambered after him.
It was a different forest now, with great tall oaks clinging dangerously to the hillside. Many had fallen, their roots ripped out, leaving vast craters where young saplings were sprouting again. As they ran on and up, Billy saw the fox slowing. He was looking around him as he went, no longer intent it seemed on escape. The measured rhythm was gone from his stride and Billy found himself running alongside him, even ahead of him sometimes. Fatigue overcame Billy now as he laboured on, fatigue brought on by the knowledge that he had not thrown off their pursuers. Below in the woods they could hear them crashing through the undergrowth and always that shrill incessant yapping that was leading the hunters inexorably towards them.
The fox had paused by one of the craters, and quite suddenly vanished among the roots. Billy whistled for him but the fox did not reappear, so Billy went down into the crater after him. The earth still clung to the roots that towered now over Billy, an earth wall of twisted roots, and at the base of it a hole that must have been torn out of the hillside when the tree fell. It seemed to lead in behind the wall of roots, and at the mouth of the hole he saw the white muzzle of the fox. Billy had no idea how big the hole might be inside, but the hunters were so close now that there was no time for debate. He thrust himself into the hole, arms and head first, but his shoulders stuck fast. He kicked out furiously with his legs and groped in the dark for something on which he could haul himself in, and he found it, a gnarled root that was strong enough to take all his weight. Once inside he looked for the fox and found two eyes staring back at him out of the dark. He gathered the fox to him and crawled to the back of the earth cave and waited. Whatever happened he would never allow the fox to be taken from him.
CHAPTER NINE
THE TERRIER CAME STRAIGHT TO THE HOLE and would have come in after them had not Billy hurled a clod of earth and stones at his snarling snout. It took a broadside to drive him away and he backed off, yelping in surprise. Billy crouched in the dark with the fox breathing heavily against him, and they heard the hunters’ voices as they toiled up the hillside towards the dog that stood quivering and barking at the bottom of the crater.
‘Ain’t no deer down there. You and your deer,
Not fifty paces from them two men came out into the field, each of them carrying a gun, a little Jack Russell terrier sniffing the ground around them. ‘I saw it,’ said one of them. ‘Big it was and brown, I saw it, honest. Could’ve been a deer, even. Gone to cover in the Brigadier’s wood. He’s got dozens of them in there. He won’t notice if there’s one missing, will he? Come on, let’s go in after him. It’s worth a bit, is a deer. Look, the dog’s after him, he’s got his scent, I told you, I told you.’ And sure enough the little Jack Russell was bustling down through the grass towards them, yapping as he came.
Upward was the only way to go. Billy dug his toes into the soft earth and forced his legs to run. The fox needed no whistling on now. He trotted on easily in front, tongue hanging out. They could hear behind them that the hunters were in the woods too, and that the yapping terrier was coming even closer. Billy ran now because the fox ran. He drove himself on, pounding the air with his arms, whispering through gritted teeth, ‘Faster, faster, faster. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.’
With the forest behind them filling with excited voices they reached the forest path at the top of the hill. The fox immediately turned right as if he knew the way, so Billy followed him. Billy sensed that the fox was leading him somewhere, and he was far too tired to argue. When the fox left the track and bounded up the bank into more trees, Billy clambered after him.
It was a different forest now, with great tall oaks clinging dangerously to the hillside. Many had fallen, their roots ripped out, leaving vast craters where young saplings were sprouting again. As they ran on and up, Billy saw the fox slowing. He was looking around him as he went, no longer intent it seemed on escape. The measured rhythm was gone from his stride and Billy found himself running alongside him, even ahead of him sometimes. Fatigue overcame Billy now as he laboured on, fatigue brought on by the knowledge that he had not thrown off their pursuers. Below in the woods they could hear them crashing through the undergrowth and always that shrill incessant yapping that was leading the hunters inexorably towards them.
The fox had paused by one of the craters, and quite suddenly vanished among the roots. Billy whistled for him but the fox did not reappear, so Billy went down into the crater after him. The earth still clung to the roots that towered now over Billy, an earth wall of twisted roots, and at the base of it a hole that must have been torn out of the hillside when the tree fell. It seemed to lead in behind the wall of roots, and at the mouth of the hole he saw the white muzzle of the fox. Billy had no idea how big the hole might be inside, but the hunters were so close now that there was no time for debate. He thrust himself into the hole, arms and head first, but his shoulders stuck fast. He kicked out furiously with his legs and groped in the dark for something on which he could haul himself in, and he found it, a gnarled root that was strong enough to take all his weight. Once inside he looked for the fox and found two eyes staring back at him out of the dark. He gathered the fox to him and crawled to the back of the earth cave and waited. Whatever happened he would never allow the fox to be taken from him.
CHAPTER NINE
THE TERRIER CAME STRAIGHT TO THE HOLE and would have come in after them had not Billy hurled a clod of earth and stones at his snarling snout. It took a broadside to drive him away and he backed off, yelping in surprise. Billy crouched in the dark with the fox breathing heavily against him, and they heard the hunters’ voices as they toiled up the hillside towards the dog that stood quivering and barking at the bottom of the crater.
‘Ain’t no deer down there. You and your deer,
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