Master Reynard: The History of a Fox

by Jane Fielding; J. C. Tregarthen

And then it occurred to me that, as I had never cast eyes on their kind before, it might be that these strangers had never set eyes on a fox, and would entertain no fear of such an innocent-looking creature come to quench his thirst. This line of reasoning seemed so plausible that I licked my dry chops at the prospect of a lordly feast, and for a moment felt inclined to despise such small birds as geese. These latter had for some time held their heads turned my way; so, to show that concealment was not dreamt of, I stood still, raised my mask to the moon, just risen above the headland, and, though it cost me a great effort, barked as joyously as only a full-fed fox can bark. Rarely in my chequered life have I given utterance to notes so expressive of content; and as the geese seemed greatly taken by the music, I continued to indulge them, at the same time lessening the distance that separated us.

We were getting on quite good terms with one another—at least, so I thought—until I was within—well, it is difficult to judge distance over snow—perhaps fifty yards of them. Then I saw unmistakable signs of restlessness. To lull suspicion I waved my brush in my most fascinating manner; I rolled on my back, hoping to prove to them that, murderer though I might be by repute, I was really a playful creature, even on that wild winter's night; and in order to reassure the more timorous, including a fine gander, who had retired from the front to the rear rank, I began to cut capers, running after my brush in small circles, or rather in a spiral which would bring me, as I could see out of the corner of my eye, within rushing distance of two of the most curious of my admirers.

It was all in vain; my back was to the cowardly crew when they rose; but even then I should have seized a laggard had I sprung a few hairs higher, for the tip of my muzzle actually touched his cold webbed foot. In my fall on the edge of the ice I all but lost my balance and toppled into the water. Was I enraged when I recovered myself? I need not enlarge on that.

The flight of the geese alarmed the duck, which rose in a big cloud from the mere, with a noise that would, I am sure, have bewildered any animal except a fox, or perhaps an otter. But I ignored it, and amidst their silly clamor and the loud whirr of their wings that momentarily drowned the gale, fixed my eyes on the three swans—for such they were—who did not take flight like the others, but swam up and down the rough water in a manner which, if not expressive of contempt, was at least aggressive and provocative. Their attitude was a revelation to me; no bird had ever dared challenge me before; and if they see as foxes do, these black-billed strangers who stared so hard must have read blank amazement on my innocent face as I read defiance on theirs. Nor was I free from irritation at the bravado conspicuous in their puffed-out breasts and beruffled plumage.

Suddenly my demeanor changed from amazement to rage. This certainly they must have known from my flaming eyes, bristling fur, and fluffed-out brush lashing from side to side; but up and down they swam, hissing out their summons to come and do battle, if I dared. A fox shrink from combat with feathered foes? Never! I jumped into the water, and swam across the strong current for the spot they had chosen for the contest. All three preserved their determined front until I was close enough to see the yellow on their bills and the snake-like look in their evil eyes, but at my next stroke two of them beat the water with their great wings, rose in the air, and with loud-creaking pinions flew over my head.

"Cowards!" said I. "Why did you not stand your ground?"

Whilst I wondered that the remaining bird did not follow their example, a streak of blood on his white plumage told me he was wounded; and the instant it caught my eye I felt he was mine. I never doubted I should kill him as soon as I could close my jaws on his long white neck; the only thing that troubled me was how I should manage to land him on the ice with such a strong stream running. He was the biggest of the three, a magnificent bird, and, except for his bill, as white as the snow. To my astonishment, wounded though he was, he actually swam to meet me and struck the first blow. Before I could close with him he stretched his head over mine, caught me by the left ear, and pressed me under water. For all my frantic struggles, I was half drowned when I succeeded by a desperate effort in disengaging myself from his grip. Rising close to him, I seized his neck through the thick coat of feathers that protected it, and hung on. The commotion that followed baffles description. With one wing—for the other lay helpless—he lashed the water and spun around in circles, taking me with him. It would have been better to let go than be carried by the strong current I knew not whither; but in such a case a fox can never resolve to relinquish his hold, and it was fortunate for me that, before I had been taken out into the middle of the mere, my teeth slipped off the smooth oily feathers.

I had had enough. Exhausted and benumbed, I made for the ice, now a long way off, and fighting the current with all my strength, had got at length within a few yards of the jagged edge when, to my horror, I heard the swan coming up, and gaining on me at every stroke. I did my very utmost to reach the ice, but in vain; he was on me before I could land. Again I was immersed; twice I planted my feet on the edge, only to be pulled back. I had caught a Tartar, and escape seemed impossible; even if he did not drown me, I feared I should be sucked under the ice. The thought of losing my life roused me to a supreme effort. With gnashing teeth I turned on my persecutor. My onset must have terrified him, for he quailed before it and retreated a few yards into the mere. With the help of my brush I whipped round, gained the rough edge, and, putting forth my last bit of strength, dragged myself on to the ice, and fell, utterly spent, just beyond his reach.

For a time I lay there motionless, but by-and-by fear moved me to turn my head and look for my enemy. There he was, proudly swimming up and down before me with blood-stained breast and drooping wing, still defiant. It was the most humiliating moment of my life. Presently I rose and shook myself, but to no purpose. My bedraggled coat had frozen, and hung stiffly on me. I exchanged looks of vengeance with my terrible foe and slunk away.