"Yes, I do," said the Fox Cub. "The wood belongs to US. Marten and Polecat, Stoat and Weasel. Flesh-eaters All. All of one Brotherhood. Beasties Courageous. I hope I've got that right—and you all kow-tow to Badger."
"And where do you come in?" said the Marten grimly. His coolness took her fancy.
"The first good roomy hole I find," said the Fox Cub. "I like this wood and in this wood I'll stop."
"Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh," said the Marten.
"Quite so," said the Fox Cub.
The Marten snuggled down, her eyes a-twinkle.
"I know exactly the kind of hole you'd like," she said.
"Where's that?" said the Fox Cub.
"Listen to me carefully," said the Marten, "and you can't miss it. You know where the holm oak is—of course you don't. Look here. Get back on to the ride and follow that. It leads you to a hollow."
"It leads two ways," said the Fox Cub.