Page 15 - Fables volume 3

Fox found him snuffling around an anthill. Hedgehog regarded
him balefully: foxes were among his natural predators. But Fox made
it clear that he was old and harmless, and merely wanted to talk. As
Hedgehog listened intently, Fox described his prior existence as
holder of a salon dedicated to open discourse and contemplation of
wonderful and exotic aspects of nature. He further explained that
being away from the world of affairs he was not prepared for the
influx of suddenly irrational and paranoid visitors. The deterioration
of civil society and concomitant thuggery and mayhem had not been
apparent to him until those terrified animals forced him to see it.
“Of course,” said Hedgehog. “In times of war, there are no atheists
in foxholes.” Fox replied, “Then I was right to leave. I wish to live,
but not as victim or aggressor. I came to you for advice: my friends
told me that you know one great thing.” Hedgehog nodded. “Yes, I
do, and in times like these it is enough. I know how to defend myself,
so that attackers are thwarted.” And he rolled into a ball, covering his
face, abdomen and limbs with his broad back, now flexed into a
sphere deploying thousands of outward-pointing needle-sharp spines.
Fox trotted around him, surveying the impregnable fortress from all
angles.
“Very impressive,” he told Hedgehog, as the latter uncoiled. “I
would gladly trade all my accumulated knowledge for that single skill.
Alas, I have no built-in armor.” Hedgehog shook his head
vehemently. “But my method is not the one great thing: it is the
principle. You must apply it yourself. What is your skill?”
“Digging burrows.”
“Then you must go beyond mere foxholes to a new level of
defensive digging. Those who cower in unhardened bunkers and
those who seek to kill them will not find you. You may perish alone,
dying of thirst or hunger, and you will not be in a position to sacrifice
yourself in the cause of ending this dark age, but it will not be for
want of rational effort; that is, of using the one great idea.”
Fox nodded, slowly and sadly. “Goodbye, Hedgehog, and thanks. I
shall find a suitable location and design a den which may instead be
my tomb. There I shall be brave, guarding the heritage of meekness.”

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