"Let's go. Dad! Tell us what you want us to do!"

Slowly, Mrs. Fox got to her feet. She was suffering more than any of them from the lack of food and water. She was very weak. "I am so sorry," she said, "but I don't think I am going to be much help."

"You stay right where you are, my darling," said Mr. Fox. "We can handle this by ourselves."

"This time we must go in a very special direction," said Mr. Fox, pointing sideways and downward.

So he and his four children started to dig once again. The work went much more slowly now. Yet they kept at it with great courage, and little by little the tunnel began to grow.

"Dad, I wish you would tell us where we are going," said one of the children.

"I dare not do that," said Mr. Fox, "because this place I am hoping to get to is so marvellous that if I described it to you now you would go crazy with excitement. And then, if we failed to get there (which is very possible), you would die of disappointment. I don't want to raise your hopes too much, my darlings."

For a long long time they kept oil digging. For how long they did not know, because there were no days and no nights down there in the murky tunnel. But at last Mr. Fox gave the order to stop. "I think," he said, "we had better take a peep upstairs now and see where we are. I know where I want to be, but I can't possibly be sure we're anywhere near it."

Slowly, wearily, the foxes began to slope the tunnel up towards the surface. Up and up it went. . until suddenly they came to something hard above their heads and they couldn't go up any further. Mr. Fox reached up to examine this hard thing. "It's wood!" he whispered. "Wooden planks!"

"What does that mean, Dad?"

"It means, unless I am very much mistaken, that we are right underneath somebody's house," whispered Mr. Fox. "Be very quiet now while I take a peek."

Carefully, Mr. Fox began pushing up one of the floorboards. The board creaked most terribly and they all ducked down, waiting for something awful to happen. Nothing did. So Mr. Fox pushed up a second board. And then, very very cautiously, he poked his head up through the gap. He let out a shriek of excitement.

"I've done it!" he yelled. "I've done it first time! I've done it! I've done it!" He pulled himself up through the gap in the floor and started prancing and dancing with joy. "Come on up!" he sang out. "Come up and see where you are, my darlings! What a sight for a hungry fox! Hallelujah! Hooray! Hooray!"

The four Small Foxes scrambled up out of the tunnel and what a fantastic sight it was that now met their eyes! They were in a huge shed and the whole place was teeming with chickens. There were white chickens and brown chickens and black chickens by the thousand!

"Boggis's Chicken House Number One!" cried Mr. Fox. "It's exactly what I was aiming at! I hit it slap in the middle! First time! Isn't that fantastic! And, if I may say so, rather clever!"

The Small Foxes went wild with excitement. They started running around in all directions, chasing the stupid chickens.

"Wait!" ordered Mr. Fox. "Don't lose your heads! Stand back! Calm down! Let's do this properly! First of all, everyone have a drink of water!"

They all ran over to the chickens' drinking-trough and lapped up the lovely cool water. Then Mr. Fox chose three of the plumpest hens, and with a clever flick of his jaws he killed them instantly.

"Back to the tunnel!" he ordered. "Come on! No fooling around! The quicker you move, the quicker you shall have something to eat!"

One after another, they climbed down through the hole in the floor and soon they were all standing once again in the dark tunnel. Mr. Fox reached up and pulled the floorboards back into place. He did this with great care. He did it so that no one could tell they had ever been moved.

"My son," he said, giving the three plump hens to the biggest of his four small children, "run back with these to your mother. Tell her to prepare a feast. Tell her the rest of us will be along in a jiffy, as soon as we have made a few other little arrangements."

The Small Fox ran back along the tunnel as fast as he could, carrying the three plump hens. He was exploding with joy. "Just wait!"' he kept thinking, "just wait till Mummy sees these!" He had a long way to run but he never stopped once on the way and he came bursting in upon Mrs. Fox. "Mummy!" he cried, out of breath. "Look, Mummy, look! Wake up and see what I've brought you!"

Mrs. Fox, who was weaker than ever now from lack of food, opened one eye and looked at the hens. "I'm dreaming," she murmured and closed the eye again.

"You're not dreaming, Mummy! They're real chickens! We're saved! We're not going to starve!"

Mrs. Fox opened both eyes and sat up quickly. "But, my dear child!" she cried. "Where on earth …?"

"Boggis's Chicken House Number One!" spluttered the Small Fox. "We tunnelled right up under the floor and you've never seen so many big fat hens in all your life! And Dad said to prepare a feast! They'll be back soon!"

The sight of food seemed to give new strength to Mrs. Fox. "A feast it shall be!" she said, standing up. "Oh. what a fantastic fox your father is! Hurry up, child, and start plucking those chickens!"

Far away down in the tunnel, the fantastic Mr. Fox was saying, "Now for the next bit, my darlings! This one'll be as easy as pie! All we have to do is dig another little tunnel from here to there!"

"To where. Dad?"

"Don't ask so many questions. Start digging!"

Mr. Fox and the three remaining Small Foxes dug last and straight. They were all too excited now to feel tired or hungry. They knew they were going to have a whacking great feast before long and the fact that it was none other than Boggis's chickens they were going to eat made them churgle with laughter every time they thought of it. It was lovely to realize that while the fat farmer was sitting up there on the hill waiting for them to starve, he was also giving them their dinner without knowing it. "Keep digging," said Mr. Fox. "It's not much further."

All of a sudden a deep voice above their heads said, "Who goes there?" The foxes jumped. They looked up quickly and they saw, peeking through a small hole in the roof of the tunnel, a long black pointed furry face.

"Badger!" cried Mr. Fox.

"Foxy!" cried Badger. "My goodness me, I'm glad I've found someone at last! I've been digging around in circles for three days and nights and I haven't the foggiest idea where I am!"

Badger made the hole in the ceiling bigger and dropped down beside the foxes. A Small Badger (his son) dropped down after him. "Haven't you heard what's happening up on the hill?" Badger said excitedly "It's chaos! Half the wood has disappeared and there are men with guns all over the countryside! None of us can get out, even at night! We're all starving to death!"

"Who is we?" asked Mr. Fox.

"All us diggers. That's me and Mole and Rabbit and all our wives and children. Even Weasel, who can usually sneak out of the tightest spots, is right now hiding down my hole with Mrs. Weasel and six kids. What on earth are we going to do, Foxy? I think we're finished!"

Mr. Fox looked at his three children and he smiled. The children smiled back at him, sharing his secret. "My dear old Badger," he said, "this mess you're in is all my fault…"

"I know it's your fault!" said Badger furiously. "And the farmers are not going to give up till they've got you. Unfortunately, that means us as well. It means everyone on the hill." Badger sat down and put a paw around his small son. "We're done for," he said softly. "My poor wife up there is so weak she can't dig another yard."