Fantastic Mr. Fox - Dahl Roald [11]
‘Will two be enough, Mrs Bean, or shall I take three?’
‘My goodness, Mabel, I don’t care so long as you get a move on!’
‘Then two it is,’ said the huge woman, speaking to herself now. ‘He drinks too much anyway.’
Carrying a jar in each hand and with the rolling-pin tucked under one arm, she walked away across the cellar. At the foot of the steps she paused and looked around, sniffing the air. ‘There’s rats down here again, Mrs Bean. I can smell ’em.’
‘Then poison them, woman, poison them! You know where the poison’s kept.’
‘Yes, Ma’am,’ Mabel said. She climbed slowly out of sight up the steps. The door slammed.
‘Quick!’ said Mr Fox. ‘Grab a jar each and run for it!’
Rat stood on his high shelf and shrieked. ‘What did I tell you! You nearly got nabbed, didn’t you? You nearly gave the game away! You keep out of here from now on! I don’t want you around! This is my place!’
‘You,’ said Mr Fox, ‘are going to be poisoned.’
‘Poppycock!’ said Rat. ‘I sit up here and watch her putting the stuff down. She’ll never get me.’
Mr Fox and Badger and the Smallest Fox ran across the cellar clutching a gallon jar each. ‘Goodbye, Rat!’ they called out as they disappeared through the hole in the wall. ‘Thanks for the lovely cider!’
Thieves!’ shrieked Rat. ‘Robbers! Bandits! Burglars!’
17 The Great Feast
Back in the tunnel they paused so that Mr Fox could brick up the hole in the wall. He was humming to himself as he put the bricks back in place. ‘I can still taste that glorious cider,’ he said. ‘What an impudent fellow Rat is.’
‘He has bad manners,’ Badger said. ‘All rats have bad manners. I’ve never met a polite rat yet.’
‘And he drinks too much,’ said Mr Fox, putting the last brick in place. ‘There we are. Now, home to the feast!’
They grabbed their jars of cider and off they went. Mr Fox was in front, the Smallest Fox came next and Badger last. Along the tunnel they flew . . . past the turning that led to Bunce’s Mighty Storehouse . . . past Boggis’s Chicken House Number One and then up the long home stretch towards the place where they knew Mrs Fox would be waiting.
‘Keep it up, my darlings!’ shouted Mr Fox. ‘We’ll soon be there! Think what’s waiting for us at the other end! And just think what we’re bringing home with us in these jars! That ought to cheer up poor Mrs Fox.’ Mr Fox sang a little song as he ran:
‘Home again swiftly I glide,
Back to my beautiful bride.
She’ll not feel so rotten
As soon as she’s gotten
Some cider inside her inside.’
Then Badger joined in:
‘Oh poor Mrs Badger, he cried,
So hungry she very near died.
But she’ll not feel so hollow
If only she’ll swallow
Some cider inside her inside.’
They were still singing as they rounded the final corner and burst in upon the most wonderful and amazing sight any of them had ever seen. The feast was just beginning. A large dining-room had been hollowed out of the earth, and in the middle of it, seated around a huge table, were no less than twenty-nine animals. They were:
Mrs Fox and three Small Foxes.
Mrs Badger and three Small Badgers.
Mole and Mrs Mole and four Small Moles.
Rabbit and Mrs Rabbit and five Small Rabbits.
Weasel and Mrs Weasel and six Small Weasels.
The table was covered with chickens and ducks and geese and hams and bacon, and everyone was tucking into the lovely food.
‘My darling!’ cried Mrs Fox, jumping up and hugging Mr Fox. ‘We couldn’t wait! Please forgive us!’ Then she hugged the Smallest Fox of all, and Mrs Badger hugged Badger, and everyone hugged everyone else. Amid shouts of joy, the great jars of cider were placed upon the table, and Mr Fox and Badger and the Smallest Fox sat down with the others.
You must remember no one had eaten a thing for several days. They were ravenous. So for a while there was no conversation at all. There was only the sound of crunching and chewing as the animals attacked the succulent food.
At last, Badger stood up. He raised his glass of cider and called out, ‘A toast! I want you all to stand and drink a toast to our dear friend who has saved our lives this day – Mr Fox!’
‘To Mr