The Farthing Wood Collection 1 by Colin Dann Read Free Book Online Page B

Otter dived joyfully into the pond. It was tiny and clogged with weed, but the feel of water over her back and head was exhilarating. A terrified frog leapt for safety on to a water-plant. In a flash Sleek Otterseized it and her teeth crunched on her first real prey for days. The frog tasted delicious. The otter’s eyes closed in sheer enjoyment, but her hunger was merely irritated by this mouthful and seemed greater than ever.
    And then she found them. Nestling nervously amongst the weed and trying to stay hidden: goldfish. Sleek Otter whistled with excitement. One, two, three fish about the size of carrots and with no escape route.
    ‘There’s only one place you can go,’ Sleek Otter told the luckless goldfish as she savoured the moment. ‘And that’s’ – crunch – ‘in here!’ She gulped them down and then searched the entire pond for anything else that was edible. There was nothing more.
    Reluctantly she pulled herself out and shook a fountain of spray from her coat. She thought of the six other otters scratching for morsels along the hedge bottom. The goldfish had put new heart into her. Perhaps there were more fish to be found nearby?
    Slow Otter had hardly bothered to look for food at all. He was the most pessimistic of the seven and already believed that death for all of them could only be a matter of days away. He watched the only other male grimly chewing an earthworm with an expression of distaste on his face.
    ‘You can’t put off the inevitable,’ he told him. ‘Bird food won’t keep us alive.’
    The other male limped from a wound sustained in a fight with a young fox. ‘Maybe,’ he grunted. ‘But we can’t simply curl up and die.’
    ‘Might as well,’ was Slow Otter’s opinion. ‘Oh,’ he moaned, ‘my stomach’s as hollow as a rotten log.’
    The four bitch otters had scattered on their ownquests. One still had thoughts of returning some day to her deserted holt by Farthing stream. ‘I could slip in unnoticed,’ she told herself. ‘A single otter doesn’t make much of a splash. No-one would suspect.’ Then she thought about what an endlessly solitary existence would be like and shuddered. ‘No. That’s not sensible,’ she said mournfully. ‘I can’t go alone. I must have a companion.’ She turned to glance back at the two males. There was not much encouragement to be had there. She sighed forlornly and turned again to her foraging.
    Sleek Otter left the cottage garden and found herself in a wide muddy expanse planted with vegetables. She threaded her way through these, turning every so often to make sure she wasn’t observed. Another field stretched ahead. There was no sign or smell of water in that direction. She paused, reminding herself of the little pond and its situation near a human dwelling. Perhaps that was the key to other stocks of fish. Sleek Otter decided to seek out similar habitations.
    There was a collection of buildings comprising a bungalow and various outhouses within easy distance of the vegetable field. Sleek Otter ran determinedly towards it. Desperation made her bold. She pattered cautiously into a yard. Everything was quiet enough. In the darkness the unmistakable sound of swishing water reached her ears. She trotted swiftly forward to investigate. She found six huge, round metal-sided vats spaced around the yard. These were sunk deep into concrete so that the tops were about a metre above ground level. Hosepipes ran to and from each, draining and replenishing water in a continual cycle. Every so often a splash or a plunge could be heard inone of the tanks. There were things moving in them – living things. Sleek Otter was filled with excitement. She ran to the nearest container and leapt up, balancing herself on the tank’s rim.
    ‘Fish!’ she whistled. ‘Hordes of them!’ She watched the writhings and weavings of hundreds of plump silver trout. There were so many fish, there scarcely seemed to be a space unfilled. The water was literally