Fantastic Mr Fox

So the order went down to the farms, and that night one hundred and eight men formed a tight ring around the bottom of the hill. They were armed with sticks and guns and hatchets and pistols and all sorts of other horrible weapons. This made it quite impossible for a fox or indeed for any other animal to escape from the hill.

The next day the watching and waiting went on. Boggis and Bunce and Bean sat upon small stools, staring at the fox's hole. They didn't talk much. They just sat there with their guns on their laps.

Every so often, Mr. Fox would creep a little closer towards the mouth of the tunnel and take a sniff. Then he would creep back again and say, "They're still there."

"Are you quite sure?" Mrs. Fox would ask.

"Positive" said Mr. Fox. "I can smell that man Bean a mile away. He stinks."

9 Мг. Fох Has а Рlаn

For three days and three nights this waiting-game went on.

"How long can a fox go without food or water?" Boggis asked on the third day.

"Not much longer now," Bean told him. "Hell make a run for it soon. He'll have to."

Bean was right. Down in the tunnel the foxes were slowly but surely starving to death.

"If only we could have just a tiny sip of water," said one of the Small Foxes. "Oh, Dad, can't you do something?"

"Couldn't we make a dash for it, Dad? We'd have a little bit of a chance, wouldn't we?"

"No chance at all," snapped Mrs. Fox. "I refuse to

let you go up there and face those guns. I'd sooner you stay down here and die in peace."

Mr. Fox had not spoken for a long time. He had been sitting quite still, his eyes closed, not even hearing what the others were saying. Mrs. Fox knew that he was trying desperately to think of a way out. And now, as she looked at him, she saw him stir himself and get slowly to his feet. He looked back at his wife. There was a little spark of excitement dancing in his eyes.

"What is it, darling?" said Mrs. Fox quickly.

"I've just had a bit of an idea," Mr. Fox said carefully.

"What?" they cried. "Oh, Dad, what is it?"

"Come on!" said Mrs. Fox. "Tell us quickly!"

"Well. ." said Mr. Fox, then he stopped and sighed and sadly shook his head. He sat down again. "It's no good," he said. "It won't work after all."

"Why not, Dad?"

"Because it means more digging and we aren't any of us strong enough for that after three days and nights without food."

"Yes we are, Dad!" cried the Small Foxes, jumping up and running to their father. "We can do it! You see if we can't! So can you!"

Mr. Fox looked at the four Small Foxes and he smiled. What fine children I have, he thought. They are starving to death and they haven't had a drink for three days, but they are still undefeated. I must not let them clown.

"I … I suppose we could give it a try," he said.

"Let's go. Dad! Tell us what you want us to do!"

Slowly, Mrs. Fox got to her feet. She was suffering more than any of them from the lack of food and water. She was very weak. "I am so sorry," she said, "but I don't think I am going to be much help."

"You stay right where you are, my darling," said Mr. Fox. "We can handle this by ourselves."

10 Boggiss Chicken House Number One

"This time we must go in a very special direction," said Mr. Fox, pointing sideways and downward.

So he and his four children started to dig once again. The work went much more slowly now. Yet they kept at it with great courage, and little by little the tunnel began to grow.

"Dad, I wish you would tell us where we are going," said one of the children.

"I dare not do that," said Mr. Fox, "because this place I am hoping to get to is so marvellous that if I described it to you now you would go crazy with excitement. And then, if we failed to get there (which is very possible), you would die of disappointment. I don't want to raise your hopes too much, my darlings."

For a long long time they kept oil digging. For how long they did not know, because there were no days and no nights down there in the murky tunnel. But at last Mr. Fox gave the order to stop. "I think," he said, "we had better take a peep upstairs now and see where we are. I know where I want to be, but I can't possibly be sure we're anywhere near it."

Slowly, wearily, the foxes began to slope the tunnel up towards the surface. Up and up it went. . until suddenly they came to something hard above their heads and they couldn't go up any further. Mr. Fox reached up to examine this hard thing. "It's wood!" he whispered. "Wooden planks!"

"What does that mean, Dad?"

"It means, unless I am very much mistaken, that we are right underneath somebody's house," whispered Mr. Fox. "Be very quiet now while I take a peek."

Carefully, Mr. Fox began pushing up one of the floorboards. The board creaked most terribly and they all ducked down, waiting for something awful to happen. Nothing did. So Mr. Fox pushed up a second board. And then, very very cautiously, he poked his head up through the gap. He let out a shriek of excitement.