Among the large branches of an aged oak, which grew in the midst of a thick wood, lived once upon a time a wildcat. In that tree she was born and brought up, and had nursed many litters of kittens; her mother and her grandmother, had lived there before her; indeed, I believe that, as long as the oak had been an oak, this family of wildcats had made it their home.
One day, as she was couching among some bushes near the foot of her tree, watching her opportunity to spring upon any poor little bird who might happen to alight within her reach, she heard a great rustling in the thicket, and presently two men pushed their way through, and stood before her. This part of the forest was so tangled and wild, and so far from any human habitation, that it was a rare thing to see men there, and the cat wondered very much why they came; so she lay quite still in her hiding-place, watching them and listening to hear what they should say. She soon discovered that they were woodcutters, for each was armed with an axe, which he carried upon his shoulder.
Presently one said to his fellow, “Is it all to be cut down?”—“All the whole forest,” answered the other, “and the ground is to be ploughed up and sown with corn, but the largest trees are to be felled first.”—“If that be the case,” said the first, “we cannot begin better than with this noble oak before us, and I will put a mark on it that we may know it again.” So saying, he pulled out a piece of chalk, and made a large white cross on the bark of the poor cat’s own tree. “Next week,” added he, “we will lay the axe to the root.” And he walked on, whistling with great unconcern.
The unfortunate cat lay a long time on the ground, half dead with grief and terror, and unable to move a limb. At length, after uttering several cries so loud and shrill that the whole forest seemed to ring again, she started up, and ran like one distracted to spread the dismal news among her neighbours of the wood. The first creature that she met was the stag: he had just started up from his lair, amid the thickest cover, and stood listening, ready to bound away on the first appearance of danger. “Was it you, neighbour puss,” cried he, “who set up that frightful yell which I heard? I almost thought the hounds and hunters were upon me;—but what is the matter?”—“Matter enough,” answered the cat; “worse than either hounds or hunters; the forest is to be cut down.” And she told him her sad story. “The forest cut down!” brayed out the poor stag, while the tears ran in large drops down his hairy face; “and what is to become of me and you, and all our neighbours? Man has always been my enemy, but this is a stroke of cruelty which I did not expect even from him. Is there no help, no remedy?”—“I will fight for my tree,” cried the cat, “as long as teeth and claws hold good: and you with your great horns may surely defend your own thicket; but this man is a terrible creature, and he has so many crafty tricks, that I know nobody, except the fox, who is at all a match for him; suppose we run and ask his advice.” “With all my heart,” said the stag; and they marched away together in search of him.
The fox had his abode near the skirts of the forest, in the middle of a dry bank, thickly covered with bushes and brambles. His hole was burrowed deep into the earth, and cunningly contrived with several openings on different sides, by which he might make his escape in case of danger. The cat put her head in at one of the entrances, and called to him to come out; but it was not till he had carefully peeped about, and thoroughly satisfied himself that all was safe, that cunning Reynard ventured to trust himself abroad.
In great distress the stag related the cause of their coming. “I have heard something of this matter before,” replied the fox; “but you are too condescending to come and ask the advice of a simple creature like myself, who never yet knew what policy or artifice meant, and—.” Here the cat and the stag eagerly interrupted him, and with one voice began to compliment him on the sagacity and wisdom for which all the world gave him credit, declaring that their whole hope and consolation rested on his counsels. “Well,” returned the fox, “since you will have it so, though I blush to utter my poor thoughts before beasts so much my superiors, I will venture with all humility to suggest, that a general meeting be immediately summoned of all the animals of the forest, in order that we may take our measures in concert, and after hearing the opinions of all.”
“An excellent proposal!” cried the stag. “An excellent proposal!” echoed the cat; “but who shall we send to call them all together?”—“I would go to them myself,” replied the fox, “but it is possible that some of the smaller animals might doubt the innocence of my intentions, and refuse to come; for I have been a much calumniated creature. The same thing might happen with you, neighbour Puss; the squirrel and the mouse especially....” “True,” cried the cat, “they would, perhaps, be taking some idle notions into their heads....” “And as to my lord the stag,” rejoined Reynard, “he is a beast of far too exalted a rank for such an office. Stay, there is my worthy friend the hedgehog, suppose we send him; a little slow of foot, to be sure, and not wonderfully bright; but a plain honest creature as any that lives, well spoken of throughout the forest, and the enemy of no one, except indeed of the flies and the beetles; but we do not call the insects to council, of course.”—“Of course,” rejoined the cat; “but what shall we say to the reptiles?”—“Why, as to my neighbour the viper,” returned the fox, “I own I am inclined to think favourably of him, whatever some may whisper to his disadvantage; his temper indeed may be none of the mildest, but he knows how to make himself respected, and I think we must by no means leave him out; and if he is admitted, in common civility his cousin the snake must be invited also.”—“And what say you to the toad, the frog, and the newt?” asked the stag. “Poor creatures,” said the fox with a sneer, “your lordship is certainly very condescending to remember the existence of beings so inferior. They sit in our council, truly! However, I would by no means give offence, at a time like this, even to the meanest—they may be permitted to hear the debate, provided they do not presume to speak among their betters.”
The fox now called in a somewhat imperious tone to the hedgehog to come forth. At the sound of his voice, the little creature roused himself with some difficulty from his morning’s nap, and hastily unrolling himself and clearing his prickly coat from the grass and dead leaves that stuck in it, and added not a little to his rude, slovenly appearance, he crept out from his hole under the roots of a tree, and inquired with much humility what Mr. Reynard wanted with him. The fox explained in few words the alarming occurrence of the morning, and thus proceeded to give the hedgehog his orders:—
“You are to summon all our good neighbours to meet this evening, an hour before sunset, under the great yew-tree that stands by itself near the centre of the wood. Please to attend, and I will name them to you in their order, that you may make no mistakes. First, you turn down into yonder dingle, and there, just beyond the old poplar which is blown up by the roots and lies across the way, look very sharp, and in a snug sheltered nook you will spy a hole running down into the steep bank; at the bottom of it you will find the badger. Beg him to come without fail; excepting the present company there is no animal in the forest of greater size and consequence, nor whom I respect more. A little lower down, on the very brink of the stream, lives my cousin the polecat;—a damp situation, I should think, but they say he sometimes amuses himself with fishing. He is a sharp fellow; we must by all means have him at our council.
“The weasel comes next, and you will find him in a hollow tree not far off. If the squirrel be not frolicking as usual among the boughs of the large beech in which he has his nest, nuts are now ripe, and you must look for him in the hazel-copse on the left. If I do not mistake, you will also find the dormouse lodged under the roots of that large oak hard by which is so full of acorns; and the woodmouse is his next-door neighbour.