Fantastic Mr Fox - Dahl Roald - Страница 6

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There was a short silence while Badger thought deeply about this.

"You are far too respectable," said Mr. Fox.

"There's nothing wrong with being respectable," Badger said.

"Look," said Mr. Fox, "Boggis and Bunce and Bean are out to kill us. You realize that, I hope?"

"I do, Foxy, I do indeed," said the gentle Badger.

"But we're not going to stoop to their level. We don't want to kill them."

"I should hope not, indeed," said Badger.

"We wouldn't dream of it," said Mr. Fox. "We shall simply take a little food here and there to keep us and our families alive. Right?"

"I suppose we'll have to," said Badger.

"If they want to be horrible, let them," said Mr. Fox. "We down here are decent peace-loving people."

Badger laid his head on one side and smiled at Mr. Fox. "Foxy," he said, "I love you."

"Thank you," said Mr. Fox. "And now let's get on with the digging."

Five minutes later, Badger's front paws hit against something flat and hard. "What on earth is this?" he said. "It looks like a solid stone wall." He and Mr. Fox scraped away the soil. It was a wall. But it was built of bricks, not stones. The wall was right in front of them, blocking their way.

"Now who in the world would build a wall under the ground?" asked Badger.

"Very simple," said Mr. Fox. "It's the wall of an underground room. And if I am not mistaken, it is exactly what I'm looking for."

Mr. Fox examined the wall carefully. He saw that the cement between the bricks was old and crumbly, so he loosened a brick without much trouble and pulled it away. Suddenly, out from the hole where the brick had been, there popped a small sharp face with whiskers, "Go away!" it snapped. "You can't come in here! It's private!"

"Good Lord!" said Badger. "It's Rat!"

"You saucy beast!" said Mr. Fox. "I should have guessed we'd find you down here somewhere."

"Go away!" shrieked Rat. "Go on, beat it! This is my private pitch!"

"Shut up," said Mr. Fox.

"I will not shut up!" shrieked Rat. "This is my place! I got here first!"

Mr. Fox gave a brilliant smile, flashing his white teeth. "My dear Rat," he said softly, "I am a hungry-fellow and if you don't hop it quickly I shall eat-you-up-in-one-gulp!"

That did it. Rat popped back fast out of sight. Mr. Fox laughed and began pulling more bricks out of the wall. When he had made a biggish hole, he crept through it. Badger and the Smallest Fox followed him in.

They found themselves in a vast, damp, gloomy cellar. "This is it!" cried Mr. Fox.

"This is what?" said Badger. "The place is empty."

"Where are the turkeys?" asked the Smallest Fox, staring into the gloom. "I thought Bean was a turkey man."

"He is a turkey man," said Mr. Fox. "But we're not after turkeys now. We've got plenty of food."

"Then what do we need, Dad?"

"Take a good look round," said Mr. Fox. "Don't you see anything that interests you?"

Badger and the Smallest Fox peered into the half-darkness. As their eyes became accustomed to the gloom, they began to see what looked like a whole lot of big glass jars standing upon shelves around the walls. They went closer. They were jars. There were hundreds of them, and upon each one was written the word CIDER.

The Smallest Fox leaped high in the air. "Oh,Dad!" he cried out. "Look what we've found! It's cider!"

"Ex-actly," said Mr. Fox.

"Tremendous!" shouted Badger.

"Bean's Secret Cider Cellar," said Mr. Fox. "But go carefully, my dears. Don't make a noise. This cellar is right underneath the farmhouse itself."

"Cider," said Badger, "is especially good for Badgers. We take it as medicine—one large glass three times a day with meals and another at bedtime."

"It will make the feast into a banquet," said Mr. Fox.

While they were talking, the Smallest Fox had sneaked a jar off the shelf and had taken a gulp. "Wow!" he gasped. "Wow-ee!"

You must understand this was not the ordinary wreak fizzy cider one buys in a store. It was the real stuff, a home-brewed fiery liquor that burned in your throat and boiled in your stomach.

"Ah-h-h-h-h-h!" gasped the Smallest Fox. "This is some cider!"

"That's quite enough of that." said Mr. Fox, grabbing the jar and putting it to his own lips. He took a tremendous gulp. "It's miraculous!" he whispered, fighting for breath. "It's fabulous! It's beautiful!"

"It's my turn," said Badger, taking the jar and tilting his head well back. The cider gurgled and bubbled down his throat. "It's. . it's like melted gold!" he gasped. "Oh, Foxy, it's … like drinking sunbeams and rainbows!"

"You're poaching!" shrieked Rat. "Put that down at once! There'll be none left for me!" Rat was perched upon the highest shelf in the cellar, peering out from behind a huge jar. There was a small rubber tube inserted in the neck of the jar, and Rat was using this tube to suck out the cider.

"You're drunk! "said Mr. Fox.

"Mind your own business!" shrieked Rat. "And if you great clumsy brutes come messing about in here we'll all be caught! Get out and leave me to sip my cider in peace"

At that moment they heard a woman's voice calling out in the house above them. "Hurry up and get that cider, Mabel!" the voice called. "You know Mr. Bean doesn't like to be kept waiting! Especially when he's been out all night in a tent!"

The animals froze. They stayed absolutely still, their ears pricked, their bodies tense. Then they heard the sound of a door being opened. The door was at the top of a flight of stone steps leading down from the house to the cellar.

And now someone was starting to come down those steps.

"Quick!" said Mr. Fox. "Hide!" He and Badger and the Smallest Fox jumped up on to a shelf and crouched behind a row of big cider jars. Peering around the jars, they saw a huge woman coming down into the cellar. At the foot of the steps, the woman paused, looking to right and left. Then she turned and headed straight for the place where Mr. Fox and Badger and the Smallest Fox were hiding. She stopped right in front of them. The only thing between her and them was a row of cider jars. She was so close, Mr. Fox could hear the sound of her breathing. Peeping through the crack between two bottles, he noticed that she carried a big rolling-pin in one hand.

"How many will he want this time, Mrs. Bean?" the woman shouted. And from the top of the steps the other voice called back, "Bring up two or three jars."

"He drank four yesterday, Mrs. Bean."

"Yes, but he won't want that many today because he's not going to be up there more than a few hours longer. He says the fox is bound to make a run for it this morning. It can't possibly stay down that hole another day without food."

The woman in the cellar reached out and lifted a jar of cider from the shelf. The jar she took was next but one to the jar behind which Mr. Fox was crouching.

"I'll be glad when the rotten brute is killed and strung up on the front porch," she called out. "And by the way, Mrs. Bean, your husband promised I could have the tail as a souvenir."

"The tail's been all shot to pieces," said the voice from upstairs. "Didn't you know that?"

"You mean it's ruined?"

"Of course it's ruined. They shot the tail but missed the fox."

"Oh heck!" said the big woman. "I did so want that tail!"

"You can have the head instead, Mabel. You can get it stuffed and hang it on your bedroom wall. Hurry up now with that cider!"

"Yes, Ma'am, I'm coming," said the big woman, and she took a second jar from the shelf.

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