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sorrowfully, ‘I fear the time will arrive when the humans come, but don’t go.’
    There was no discovery and no fighting that night. Sleek Otter made haste to give the news of the foxes’ massing to her kind. The otters saw sense and decided to avoid confrontation. Smooth Otter, however, couldn’t resist a retort.
    ‘How we’ve impressed them all,’ he quipped glibly. ‘We’ve really ruffled their pride.’
    ‘Well, we can’t match them in strength,’ Sleek Otter cautioned. ‘You should have seen them. They looked an ugly lot.’
    ‘Oh, they’ll disband soon enough,’ the big male assured her lightly. ‘What can they do? They know they can’t touch us.’
    This was not at all how the foxes saw the situation. They had reached the end of their tether. Stout Vixen, who had stayed behind in the den, greeted her mate’s return with the words, ‘I don’t see any signs of a scrap. Your coat’s as clean as a cat’s.’
    ‘There was no scrap,’ Stout Fox admitted, ‘because there were no otters.’
    ‘I told you so,’ said the vixen. ‘You need to use more subtle methods with that bunch.’
    ‘Perhaps we’ve frightened them off?’
    ‘No. They’ll slip back to the woodland unnoticed when things have quietened down.’
    ‘What do you suggest then?’
    ‘As the otters seem to bother you so much there’s only one course of action. Get rid of them altogether.’
    ‘You mean – kill them?’ Stout Fox muttered as though he hardly dared pronounce the words.
    ‘Not all of them. When they see their lives are at stake they’ll get the message soon enough and move out.’
    Stout Fox baulked at the idea of wholesale slaughter. ‘Let’s hope they won’t provoke us any further,’ he said without much conviction.
    Of course it wasn’t in the nature of the otters to lie low. It was quite out of the question for them to be quiet or still for long. And, in any case, hunger asserted itself. They had to hunt whether they liked it or not. Some of them explored the grassland which surrounded the Wood and found a mouse or two. But this was a poor alternative to the rich fare offered by the Wood itself.
    With the confidence born of their belief in their special status, the main bulk of the otters once more penetrated the woodland. They hunted singly and thoroughly. It was not long before they once more found themselves competing with the habitual woodland dwellers.
    Smooth Otter, predictably, was the spark that lit the fatal fuse. His vanity made him incapable of heeding any warning signals. He forgot Sleek Otter’s experience and set about stalking Lean Fox with the idea of relieving him of his catch. Lean Fox had set his sights on a young hare that was less watchful than it needed to be. Luckily for the young animal, it was able to make its escape. For, as Lean Fox closed, freezing every time the hare turned to look, Smooth Otter tried to circumvent his ploy. The otter’s final dash, in front of the patient, painstaking fox, alarmed the hare who scooted away as swift as the wind.
    Lean Fox, who had spent many long minutes carefully positioning himself, hurled himself on the culprit. He bowled the otter over and a vicious fight began. They were a match for each other.
    The noise attracted onlookers. ‘F-fox in a fight!Otter on the f-floor,’ Nervous Squirrel skittered, leaping from branch to branch.
    Sly Stoat hid behind a tree-trunk, peering round every now and then to watch the contest. As a predator, both animals were his rivals, but as a woodlander he was on the side of the fox. Smooth Otter gave a good account of himself. He was strong and supple and quick-footed. Lean Fox found it impossible to get a grip on him. Equally, the otter’s smaller stature didn’t allow him to gain advantage.
    ‘It’s l-level pegging,’ Nervous Squirrel squeaked to anyone who cared to listen.
    ‘Keep quiet,’ said Owl. ‘Let them sort it out.’
    Smooth Otter, jigging to right and left, and nipping the fox’s tail