until nightfall to see if the crow’s words were correct.
‘You’ll soon change your mind about things once you start foraging,’ the bird reassured him. ‘There are rich pickings if you know where to look for them.’
‘Very well,’ said Bold. ‘I shall give it a try. And, by the way, I forgot to thank you for your rescue operation.’
‘I have to confess to some self-interest in this,’ said the bird honestly. ‘You’ll be able to tap sources of food I can’t reach. So I’m hoping that my diet might be enriched too . . .’
‘I understand you,’ said Bold. ‘And I certainly owe you a lot. You shall share anything I find – as long as there’s sufficient for me.’
‘Naturally. And I will do the same for you – for I shall be about in the daytime. So, between us, we can work this patch for all it’s worth. No better place in the winter than close to Man’s nesting sites.’
Bold was amused at the other’s tone. It seemed his own idea of exploiting the humans was now shared by this bird.
‘In fact,’ the crow declared, ‘it’s time I rustled up something now. You stay put,’ he added as he left, an unnecessary remark as far as Bold was concerned, who immediately fell asleep.
He was still asleep when his partner returned. The crow searched for a sign of him with his beady eyes but to no avail, so good was the fox’s camouflage. Presently he cawed irritably.
‘You’re back,’ Bold mumbled drowsily. Only a slight rustling of the undergrowth betrayed his whereabouts.
The crow waited patiently but Bold didn’t stir. ‘Aren’t you going to see what I’ve brought?’ he croaked. ‘It’s all yours. I’ve eaten my fill.’
Bold crept out from his screen and sniffed at the strange-looking object that awaited him – a packet of sandwiches. He sniffed all round it and gave it a tentative lick. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, looking puzzled.
‘Man food,’ answered the crow. ‘I found it on the ground. It’s quite palatable.’
‘It smells tasty enough but –’ Bold broke off to have another look at it. Then he clawed at the paper wrapping. That didn’t appear to be palatable.
‘You have to accept what comes,’ the crow explained. ‘Can’t afford to overlook anything . You’ll be surprised what you can eat when you get into the habit.’
Bold had never seen bread before, but there was meat inside it and he found himself eating the whole concoction and enjoying it.
‘Was this your meal too?’ he asked afterwards.
‘No,’ said the crow. ‘I found some food left out for a cat or dog and ate all that.’
‘Some poor creature will go hungry then,’ Bold opined. ‘I think I shall call you “Robber”.’
‘Don’t waste any sympathy on them,’ the crow retorted. ‘Those that Man feeds never go hungry. So you and I have every right to take what we can.’
‘Yes, Robber,’ said Bold drily.
‘Yes, Bold,’ replied Robber.
—— 11 ——
The Urban Fox
When night fell, it was Bold’s turn to make a foray. Robber had gone to roost in a secluded place at the top of a tall tree, leaving the young fox to gather his courage together. For a long time the noise from the town continued unabated. But as the nocturnal hours marched by, a comparative peace descended, only occasionally interrupted by a sudden, strident sound. Then Bold was ready to move.
He went limping across the fields, now bathed by a fitful moonlight, and made for the black shapes of the human’s dwellings. He paused often to test the air as he went. His powerful sense of smell detected a host of strange scents, none of which was familiar to him. But he pressed on, prepared to take cover only if the smell of dog or that of Man himself was recognizable. The first group of buildings he came to lay in complete darkness. Walls or fences bounded them and their plots of land, and Bold skulked along these barriers like a shadow, searching for an opening. For, unlike other animals of his kind, he could
‘You’ll soon change your mind about things once you start foraging,’ the bird reassured him. ‘There are rich pickings if you know where to look for them.’
‘Very well,’ said Bold. ‘I shall give it a try. And, by the way, I forgot to thank you for your rescue operation.’
‘I have to confess to some self-interest in this,’ said the bird honestly. ‘You’ll be able to tap sources of food I can’t reach. So I’m hoping that my diet might be enriched too . . .’
‘I understand you,’ said Bold. ‘And I certainly owe you a lot. You shall share anything I find – as long as there’s sufficient for me.’
‘Naturally. And I will do the same for you – for I shall be about in the daytime. So, between us, we can work this patch for all it’s worth. No better place in the winter than close to Man’s nesting sites.’
Bold was amused at the other’s tone. It seemed his own idea of exploiting the humans was now shared by this bird.
‘In fact,’ the crow declared, ‘it’s time I rustled up something now. You stay put,’ he added as he left, an unnecessary remark as far as Bold was concerned, who immediately fell asleep.
He was still asleep when his partner returned. The crow searched for a sign of him with his beady eyes but to no avail, so good was the fox’s camouflage. Presently he cawed irritably.
‘You’re back,’ Bold mumbled drowsily. Only a slight rustling of the undergrowth betrayed his whereabouts.
The crow waited patiently but Bold didn’t stir. ‘Aren’t you going to see what I’ve brought?’ he croaked. ‘It’s all yours. I’ve eaten my fill.’
Bold crept out from his screen and sniffed at the strange-looking object that awaited him – a packet of sandwiches. He sniffed all round it and gave it a tentative lick. ‘What’s this?’ he asked, looking puzzled.
‘Man food,’ answered the crow. ‘I found it on the ground. It’s quite palatable.’
‘It smells tasty enough but –’ Bold broke off to have another look at it. Then he clawed at the paper wrapping. That didn’t appear to be palatable.
‘You have to accept what comes,’ the crow explained. ‘Can’t afford to overlook anything . You’ll be surprised what you can eat when you get into the habit.’
Bold had never seen bread before, but there was meat inside it and he found himself eating the whole concoction and enjoying it.
‘Was this your meal too?’ he asked afterwards.
‘No,’ said the crow. ‘I found some food left out for a cat or dog and ate all that.’
‘Some poor creature will go hungry then,’ Bold opined. ‘I think I shall call you “Robber”.’
‘Don’t waste any sympathy on them,’ the crow retorted. ‘Those that Man feeds never go hungry. So you and I have every right to take what we can.’
‘Yes, Robber,’ said Bold drily.
‘Yes, Bold,’ replied Robber.
—— 11 ——
The Urban Fox
When night fell, it was Bold’s turn to make a foray. Robber had gone to roost in a secluded place at the top of a tall tree, leaving the young fox to gather his courage together. For a long time the noise from the town continued unabated. But as the nocturnal hours marched by, a comparative peace descended, only occasionally interrupted by a sudden, strident sound. Then Bold was ready to move.
He went limping across the fields, now bathed by a fitful moonlight, and made for the black shapes of the human’s dwellings. He paused often to test the air as he went. His powerful sense of smell detected a host of strange scents, none of which was familiar to him. But he pressed on, prepared to take cover only if the smell of dog or that of Man himself was recognizable. The first group of buildings he came to lay in complete darkness. Walls or fences bounded them and their plots of land, and Bold skulked along these barriers like a shadow, searching for an opening. For, unlike other animals of his kind, he could
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