Page 14 - Fables volume 3

naïvely and superstitiously assigned blame to mysterious forces
beyond earthly control. Their fate, they believed, was in the hands of
deities more likely malevolent than benevolent.
With a sinking feeling, Fox realized he had been living in a golden
age of tranquility, prosperity and rational inquiry. It was over. Now
he could not hope to maintain his way of life. Trying to do so would
leave him stuck in a fool’s paradise, easy picking for the first
marauder who discovered any of the foxholes he had carefully
excavated leading to his inner sanctum.
Ignorance no longer was the innocent precondition of learning. It
was a lack of commitment to survival. He had to take action! Fox
decided to close his home to visitors. By day he would use his
flagging strength to plug up the entryways. At night he slept fitfully,
unable to get dark thoughts out his mind. Finally, a single foxhole
remained, and its entrance was well hidden in a clump of bushes.
Even so, he did not feel safe. He felt exposed.
That was literally brought home to him one moonless night. He
awoke to the sounds of furtive digging directly overhead. One of his
old tunnels was being excavated! Just before the ceiling of his den
collapsed Fox summoned up his courage and barked as loudly as
possible, “Who’s there? I warn you to stay away!” The claw-
scratching stopped. “It’s me, your neighbor—Badger.” Fox was not
convinced. It might have been Badger; or it might have been an
imposter, invading his sanctuary with evil intent. “Go away! I’m
armed and ready to kill intruders!” It wasn’t true, of course. Fox’s
heart pounded in the ensuing silence.
After a minute, the unwelcome guest scrabbled back to ground
level and was heard no more. Fox collapsed, well aware his bluff
could have been called. He slept no more that night. He had been
lucky enough to survive a brush with the anarchy abroad in the land.
He could not risk another.
In the morning he collected a few prize possessions and left his
burrow. Fox knew many things, but none of them had served him
well in the new regime of dog-eat-dog. He did not want to be the
eater or the eaten. He needed knowledge that he did not have. A
short but perilous journey bypassing the rougher neighborhoods in
his area took him to the location several travelers had reported seeing
the creature he needed to consult: Hedgehog.
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