THE COUNCIL OF QUADRUPEDS.
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 birdwho 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 thismanis 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 makehimself 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.
“You must then turn off toward the edge of the forest, and searchamong the fern-brakes till you find the hare; she sits close in her form all day. Assure her that we are extremely desirous of her company; and if she, or any other of our good neighbours, should make the smallest scruple of meeting puss or myself, be sure to mention that my lord the stag passes his word for their safety, both coming and returning. The snake will probably be sunning himself on the grass a little lower down; and in the dry part of the wood above, if you look narrowly, you will spy the viper lurking among the dead leaves. And now you may be gone.”
The hedgehog trudged off with his commission.
In the evening every one of the animals made his appearance under the yew-tree, except the little lazy dormouse, who had just opened his eyes when the hedgehog delivered his message, then turned himself round, fallen asleep again, and forgotten the whole matter.
As undoubted lord of the forest, the stag took the upper place; puss seated herself on his right, and Reynard on his left; the others placed themselves in due order below. The stag opened the business of the day by calling upon the cat to relate what she had that morning seen and heard. Immediately, the afflicted creature yelled out her dismal tale, ending with a long and melancholy mew which was echoed by every animal present in his own note; the stag brayed, the fox howled, the polecat and weasel cried, the badger and squirrel growled, the snake and viper hissed, the hare screamed, and the mouse squeaked. When the din of these discordant noises had a little subsided, “My friends,” said the stag, “lamentations are in vain, let us now consider what is to be done; shall we look on in tame submission to see our native wood levelled with the earth, and ourselves turned out upon the wide world to seek for food and shelter wherever we may find them, or shall we not rather all join to defend it with such weapons as nature has given us? Let the cat speak first.”
“I am for open war,” cried puss; “these teeth and these talons were not bestowed upon me for nothing;” (and as she spoke she unsheathed a set of claws at sight of which the mouse and the squirrel trembled all over.) “The first man who attacks my tree shall feel them in his eyes; I will defend my native home as long as I have breath in my body. Who is of the same mind?”
“Reynard, let us hear your opinion,” said the stag. “I beg to speak last,” said the crafty fox; “perhaps I have not yet made up my opinion.”
“For my part,” growled out the badger, thrusting forward his clumsyperson as he spoke, “I am not so cunning as some folks; I speak my mind and care for nobody; and I have only this to say—that I never attack first, but I have strong teeth and a tough hide; and if anybody attempts to turn me out of my den, whether man, dog, or any other beast, I shall try to make him repent it.”
It was observed that the badger, as he spoke, threw a sullen look at the fox, which plainly showed that he had not forgotten the knavish trick by which Reynard had once contrived to turn him out of a hole which he had dug with the labours of his own claws, and to keep possession of it for himself.
The viper now glided forward in easy curves, and coiling himself up, and darting out his forked tongue in a threatening attitude, “Man,” said he, “is my enemy, and I am his; let him set foot in my dominions if he dares; I have a venom in my fangs which will soon teach him that my anger is not to be despised.”
“I,” murmured out the snake, “have no venom to boast; I am an innocent and defenceless creature, and I own that so far from attempting to resist the invader, I shall quickly retreat from his approach. Nature, in her bounty, has endued me with the power of swimming; and when I can no longer find a shelter beneath these quiet shades, I shall plunge into the stream which bounds our domain, and seek a safer retreat among the tall weeds which flourish on its farther shore.”
“As for me,” feebly screamed out the hare, as she limped forth, staring around her with a look of affright, “all the world must be aware how weak and timid a creature I am. It has been said that I have many friends, but I have never yet found a protector, and cruel and powerful enemies lie in wait for my harmless life on every side. What will become of me I know not, probably some evil end awaits me; but I shall use these nimble legs, my only hope of safety, to bear me far away from the dreadful sight of man.”
The sprightly squirrel came forward with a bound. “I have teeth,” cried he, “very able to crack a nut, and claws by which I can cling fast enough to a bough, but how am I to contend against the mighty power of man? He would twist off my poor little head before I could draw one drop of blood from his finger. It is true that I can live only in trees, and one might as well die fighting as pine away with misery and hunger; but I have better things in view than either. From the summit of my beech, I have often observed, at some distance on the farther sideof the river, a group of noble chestnuts growing in a park, which would supply me both with food and lodging. I have also discovered a spot where two trees on opposite sides of the stream stretch forth their arms, and nearly meet above:—I have made up my mind to the adventure; one bold leap will bear me safely, I hope, to the farther shore, and the new and beautiful country that lies beyond it.”
“I believe,” squeaked a small shrill voice which was found to proceed from the mouse, “that my services would be of small importance in a war against mankind; and I do not offer them. To say the truth, I find myself, on second thoughts, not greatly concerned in this affair. If I lose my nuts and acorns by the fall of the trees, I shall get wheat, barley, and oats, in exchange, which are not worse eating, and I can lodge full as well in the middle of a corn-rick as under the roots of a tree.—Every one for himself in this world.”
“Our little friend is much in the right,” cried the weasel; “I really believe that we shall find vastly comfortable lodging about barns and farmhouses, and the very thought of a poultry-yard makes my mouth water: for such an exchange I should not object to giving up my quarters in the wood to-morrow.”—“Nor I, I protest,” exclaimed the polecat. “Hens’ eggs are not bad things, and how delicious to fatten on the blood of turkeys, geese, and chickens! A forest is not absolutely necessary to me; I can hide myself well enough in a hedge, or under a ditch-bank.”
“Reynard,” said the stag, “all have spoken now but you, and we are impatient for your opinion.”
The fox arose, cast his eyes on the ground with an air of great modesty, and after pausing a few moments, as if to gain courage to speak, he thus began, gracefully waving his long bushy tail as he spoke:—“While I listened to the warlike eloquence of the cat, to the indignant harangue of the viper, and to the resolute speech of my worthy friend, the badger, I. like them, felt myself inspired with the valiant resolution to die in defence of our native wood, and in open war with man. But when I afterward began to consider the weakness of our lesser brethren, the smallness of our numbers, and the wonderful power and resources of man, I was induced to change my opinion. We cannot hope for victory, why should we throw away our lives? The viper, in spite of his courage and his venom, would be caught by the neck in a cleft stick, and put ingloriously to death very likely before he had been able to inflict a single bite. The badger is a favourite object of the cruelty of man; he would set upon him his wholetroop of dogs, hateful brutes, who are always joined in league with him against their fellow beasts!—and though my worthy friend would fight like a hero, and kill or maim several of them, he would at length be torn in pieces. Of what avail would be the teeth and claws of the cat against that thunder and lightning by which man has the art of killing from afar? She would be brought down from her highest bough pierced through the head or the heart, before she could even see that enemy whose eyes she threatens to tear out with her talons. Even you yourself, my lord stag, would assuredly fall by the teeth of those detestable hounds after you had gored three or four of the pack. I therefore propose more cautious measures. Not far off is a wide unfrequented common, where the badger may dig himself a den and remain at peace, and where the viper may glide undisturbed among the heath and gorse. I have scarcely given a thought to the humble concerns of my insignificant self; but perhaps I too may find some cover in that neglected tract, which abounds also in wild rabbits. For you, my lord stag, you have only to swim the stream to find yourself, like the squirrel, in a noble park where man himself would be proud to become your protector, and own you for the noblest ornament of his domain. And why should not puss offer her services to hunt the mice and rats at some snug farmhouse in the neighbourhood?”
“I!” interrupted puss, setting up her back and swelling in sudden anger, “I become a fawning menial in the dwellings of man, like those miserable little foreigners who have sometimes appeared in my sight, and whom I am ashamed to own for cats! No, I am a beast of prey, a free native of the English woods, and such I will live and die. Man may hunt me down, he may destroy my whole race, as he has already hunted down and destroyed the bear and the wolf, animals much my superiors in size and in strength; but I disdain to become his household servant, or to skulk, like some of vermin breed, about his outhouses, and poultry-yards, picking up a base living by theft and rapine. And you, Reynard, crafty knave as you are, do you think I do not see through your tricks and your pretences? You too, like the weasel and polecat, have an eye on the poultry-yard and the sheepfold; you live by man though he hates you, and endeavours to destroy you, and you care not what becomes of the lives or liberty of nobler animals: but I will reachyoureyes at least, and teach you what it is to provoke me.” So saying, she flew at him in a fury: her first attack brought him to the ground, and he was almost blinded before he could strike a blow in his own defence. Thepolecat and weasel, thinking their turns would come next, slunk away; the hare and the smaller animals followed their example; even the stag himself was seized with a panic and fled. The badger alone stood and looked on with great composure at the distress of Reynard. At length, the fox, seeing puss almost out of breath, made a desperate effort and broke loose from her clutches. With his usual cunning he ran toward the river, well knowing that the cat would not wet her feet. He plunged into the water before she could overtake him, and swimming with some difficulty to the opposite side, threw himself on the bank half dead with pain and fright. Puss returned to her tree disappointed and sullen; and thus unprofitably ended the Council of Quadrupeds.