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otherwise.’
    ‘It’s a sobering thought,’ Fox said solemnly.
    ‘My hinds are in a proper turmoil about it. Their nerves are all strung up. And I can offer them no assistance.’
    ‘Not while the Beast remains hidden,’ Fox acknowledged. ‘But you stags are about the only animals in the Reserve who might successfully oppose it in a fight. Surely one day it’s going to make a slip and be seen?’
    ‘Don’t count on it,’ the Stag advised him.
    The three talked more. Then, with the Warden once again coming into view, Fox and Vixen departed.
* * * * *
    Adder had returned to his home area after quitting the pondside, using the secluded route that was habitual to him. He liked to enjoy as much of the spring sunshine as he could, and he lay amongst the bracken very often, sleepily absorbing the sun’s rays. The first new fern shoots were just pushing their heads above the surface and the pale green tightly-curled heads carried a promise of the fragrance that was to come in the summer. One day Adder was lying in this way, his red eyes glinting in the sunlight. He was thinking about his next meal but he was in no hurry to look for it. His reptilian stomach did not require to be filled with the mechanical regularity of a bird’s or a mammal’s. Because of his proximity to the stream that ran through the Park, he happened to be the first recipient of news brought by a very flustered Whistler.
    It was early morning and the heron had been standing in the shallows in his usual sentry-like posture. As he watched for the rippling movement of a fish, out of the corner of his eye he saw an animal move slowly along the bank away from him. It was some twenty metres away and appeared to be looking for the best spot to descend for a drink. Whistler’s immobility had kept him unobserved. He noted the animal was large, with sleek brown and black fur in blotches of colour which merged into stripes on its back. Its body had a powerful but streamlined appearance, with a long, thin, furry tail. It got down to the water’s edge and, leaning on its front legs, lapped thirstily. As it drank, it maintained a watchful eye on its surroundings. It paused two or three times to look about. When it was satisfied it raised itself, shook one front paw in a kind of fastidiousness, and moved away with an unhurried, loose and undulating motion. Whistler was impressed by the creature’s graceful movement. It looked round once more and hecaught just a glimpse of a round whiskered face with two green eyes, and small ears and nose.
    Whistler had held himself quite still during this entire episode. But now he hastened to fly off. He flapped his long wings and, with his stilt-like legs trailing beneath, he gained height and turned in the direction of his friends. A few seconds later he spied Adder sunbathing. He dropped down briefly to tell him what he had seen.
    ‘What do you think it was?’ he asked the snake.
    ‘Oh, the creature we’ve all been looking for,’ Adder answered nonchalantly, without even shifting his position. ‘No question about it.’
    ‘I wondered the same myself,’ Whistler replied. ‘I must go and spread the word.’ He gave a farewell ‘krornk’ and flew away.
    Adder’s feigned lack of interest turned into action as soon as the heron was gone. He slid furtively from his couch in the bracken and made for the stream side. There would be footprints by the water and he wanted to compare them. He went along the bank and his eyes soon picked out the place where the animal had drunk. Yes, there were the marks! He examined them for a while to make quite sure.
    ‘Just as I thought,’ he lisped to himself. ‘Identical.’
    Now his curiosity was aroused. He wanted to see the creature for himself. He debated whether it was safe to follow in its wake along the bank. There was very little cover at that spot and he wanted to remain undetected. Only in that way could he hope to have a chance of surprising the stranger. He slithered