At other times on the walk back to the wood they would have fun racing one another to a gate or a tree or a hedge and when they got there they would be laughing for joy; Warrigal, of course, always won, and Nab would have come next but with an instinctive sense of good manners he always let the girl beat him. Brock however was not so polite and would do his utmost to beat her, sometimes running under her legs so that they both toppled over on to the snow; she laughing and he uttering little barks and yelps of amusement.
Beth also taught Nab the joys of snowball fighting. He had been walking slightly ahead of her and when suddenly he realized she was not by his side and turned around to find her, an icy cold lump of snow hit him on the chest. Then when she bent down to scoop up another handful he copied her and with some delight hit her squarely on the shoulder only to find he had been hit on the neck again and the cold snow was beginning to creep down inside his garments. From then on they had a running battle until their hands grew cold. Then Nab copied her again as she cupped them around her mouth and breathed very hard on them and found to his surprise that this warmed them. There was so much he would learn from her, he thought, his curiosity at the ways of the Urkku awakened, but first he would have to try to learn to speak her language. He looked at her and smiled and his heart lifted again for joy when she smiled back.
So lost were they all in the happiness of that walk that they did not realize how far they had come until suddenly they were by the gate near the pond and with a thrill of anticipation saw in the distance the tops of the trees of Silver Wood. The thought of home put a new lightness and urgency into their step and they were soon going under the fence into the flat field at the front of the wood. It was at that point that they first began to realize that something was wrong. The wood was too quiet; not a sound was to be heard and not a movement was to be seen, neither the hooting of Wythen nor the scurrying of rabbits around the front of the wood as they played and ate as they always did in the evening. But it was not just the absence of any signs of life that caused the hearts of the animals to start beating faster; the appearance of the wood seemed different as well. Even at this distance they would normally have been able to make out the large looming shapes of the belts of rhododendron and the familiar sight of the Old Beech standing at the centre of the front of the wood, but with a growing sense of panic and horror they could not find them. The nearer they got the more they lost their bearings so that they did not know which part of the wood to make for. They were running now, fast, blindly, and the silver moonlight which had before seemed magical now shone down coldly and cruelly to expose the dreadful sight before them. Now they were at the old fence which surrounded the wood and before them they could clearly see the remains of their home. With the blood pounding in their ears and their stomachs heavy and knotted with the sickness of despair they looked at the tracks left by the tractors in the soft ground as they had pulled the rhododendrons up and left them in a pile on one side, and they saw the stumps of the trees where the saws had cut through them sending them crashing down to the ground where the ones that had not yet been sawn remained lying uselessly amongst the debris which had once been the floor of the wood. Not all the trees had been felled yet; the men had started at the front and were working back so that the trees they had seen in the distance were those which had been in the back part of the wood beyond the little stream. Everywhere the smell of the Urkku lingered on the air; the fumes from the tractors and the cloying smell of cigarettes, and pieces of paper littered the ground, either frozen to the earth or floating on the gusts of wind that blew across from the hills in the distance. And then Nab saw the first of the familiar red tubes which he dreaded; cartridges were strewn everywhere and as the animals picked their way over the great ruts left by the diggers they found dark streaks of blood on the black earth and tufts of hair and fur lying on the floor.
Slowly now, for they were numb with horror, they walked amongst the mess that had been their home. When an area had been cleared of trees the diggers had moved in to grub up the bracken and any remaining shrubs or saplings and in these areas there was no trace left of the wood for them to recognize, just a churned up expanse of muddy earth, but where this had not yet been done they could just about get their bearings and so eventually they came to the Old Beech, lying half sawn up on the earth. The freshly cut flat top of the stump was a very light pink colour and showed up clearly in the moonlight. They stood staring at it for a long while, unable to believe their eyes. Beth stood behind them, realizing that the wood had been their home and understanding their grief at what had happened. She herself had often looked at the wood from afar and thought how beautiful it was, and when she had heard in the village that it was to be cleared she had felt deeply sad for the animals that lived there.
Brock, Nab and Warrigal looked at the entrance to the sett, open now and exposed for all to see and the thought of Tara drove itself through the numbness of their minds until finally Brock slowly dragged himself across the unfamiliar ground at the front of the sett, scarred and cut by the tractor that had pulled at Nab’s rhododendron bush. He was just about to go down the hole when a movement caught his eye amongst the heap of bushes piled up just beyond the sett. The others had also seen it and they looked round as Sam slowly emerged from cover. His head was bent low and his tail was tucked round under his back legs so that as he walked he appeared to be hunched up. His tan coat, which normally shone with life, was now all matted with mud and the front of his shoulder on the right was covered in a dark red cake of dried blood. There was also a graze across his nose which showed up as a red stripe running from the black tip and ending up on his forehead in a deep gash. He limped heavily towards them without even raising his head, stopping when he got to where Brock was standing. Warrigal and Nab went forward but Beth stayed where she was, shocked by the transformation of this night from one of the greatest joy to the misery she now saw before I her.