1 The Three
Farmers
Down
in the valley there were three farms. The owners of these farms had done well.
They were rich men. They were also nasty men. All three of them were about as nasty and mean as any men you
could meet. Their names were Farmer Boggis, Farmer Bunce and Farmer Bean.
Boggis was a chicken farmer. He kept
thousand of chickens. He was enormously fat. This was because he ate three
boiled chickens smothered with dumplings every day for breakfast, lunch and
supper.
Bunce was a duck-and-goose farmer.
He kept thousands of ducks and geese. He was a kind of pot-bellied dwarf. He
was so short his chin would have been underwater in the shallow end of any
swimming-pool in the world. His food was doughnuts and goose-livers. He mashed
the livers into a disgusting paste and then stuffed the paste into the
doughnuts. This diet gave him a tummy-ache and a beastly temper.
Bean was a turkey-and-apple farmer.
He kept thousands of turkeys in an orchard full of apple trees. He never ate
any food at all. Instead, he drank gallons of strong cider which he made from
the apples in the orchard. He was as thin as a pencil and the cleverest of them
all.
Boggis and Bunce and Bean
One fat, one short, one lean.
These horrible crooks
So different in looks
Were none the less equally mean.
That is what the children round
about used to sing when they saw them.
2 Mr
Fox
On a
hill above the valley there was a wood.
In the wood there was a huge tree.
Under the tree there was a hole.
In the hole lived Mr Fox and Mrs Fox
and their four Small Foxes.
Every evening as soon as it got
dark, Mr Fox would say to Mrs Fox, ‘Well, my darling, what shall it be this
time? A plump chicken from Boggis? A duck or a goose from Bunce? Or a nice
turkey from Bean?’ And when Mrs Fox had told him what she wanted, Mr Fox would creep down into the valley in the darkness of the night and help himself.
Boggis and Bunce and Bean knew very
well what was going on, and it made them wild with rage. They were not men who
liked to give anything away. Less still did they like anything to be stolen
from them. So every night each of them would take his shotgun and hide in a dark
place somewhere on his own farm, hoping to catch the robber.
But Mr Fox was too clever for them.
He always approached a farm with the wind blowing in his face, and this mean
that if any man were lurking in the shadows ahead, the wind would carry the
smell of that man to Mr Fox’s nose from far away. Thus, if Mr Boggis was hiding
behind his Chicken House Number One, Mr Fox would smell him out from fifty
yards off and quickly change direction, heading for Chicken House Number Four
at the other end of the farm.
‘Dang and blast that lousy beast!’
cried Boggis.
‘I’d like to rip his guts out!’ said Bunce.
‘He must be killed!’ cried Bean.
‘But how?’ said Boggis. ‘How on earth can we catch the blighter?’
Bean picked his nose delicately with a long finger. ‘I have a plan,’ he
said.
‘You’ve never had a decent plan yet,’ said Bunce.
‘Shup up and listen,’ said Bean. ‘Tomorrow night we will all hide just
outside the hole where the fox lives. We will wait there until he comes out.
Then . . . Bang! Bang-bang-bang.’
‘Very clever,’ said Bunce. ‘But first we shall have to find the hole.’
‘My dear Bunce, I’ve already found it,’ said the crafty Bean. ‘It’s up
in the wood on the hill. It’s under a
huge tree. . .’
1 Los tres granjeros
Abajo, en el valle,
había tres granjas. Los dueños de estas granjas las habían hecho prosperar.
Eran ricos. Eran también tacaños. Todos ellos eran tan crueles y miserables
como ningún hombre que pudiera encontrarse. Sus nombres eran granjero Boggis,
granjero Bunce y granjero Bean.
Boggis era un
granjero de pollos. Tenía miles. Era gordísimo y lo era porque comía tres
pollos cocidos estofados con pudín todos los días en el desayuno, en la comida
y en la cena.
Bunce era un granjero
de patos y gansos. Tenía miles de patos y gansos. Era una clase de enano
panzón. Era tan chaparro que su barbilla hubiera estado bajo el agua en la
parte poco profunda de cualquier alberca en el mundo. Su comida consistía en
rosquitas fritas con hígados de ganso. Mezclaba los hígados en una pasta desagradable
y entonces rellenaba las rosquillas fritas con la pasta. Esta dieta le dio un
dolor de barriga y un carácter irascible, brutal.
Bean era un granjero
de pavos y manzanas. Tenía miles de pavos en un huerto lleno de árboles de
manzanas. Nunca comía cualquier alimento, en su lugar bebía galones de cidra
fuerte que sacaba de las manzanas de su huerto. Era tan delgado como un lápiz y
era el más listo de todos ellos.
Boggis y Bunce y Bean
Uno gordo, uno
chaparro, uno delgado.
Estos estafadores
horribles
Tan diferentes en
apariencia
Ninguno era,
igualmente, el menos miserable.
Esto es lo que los
niños a su alrededor acostumbraban cantar cuando los veían.
2 El señor
Zorro
Sobre una colina arriba del valle estaba un bosque.
En el bosque, había un árbol enorme.
Bajo el árbol, había un agujero.
En el agujero, vivían el señor Zorro, la
señora Zorra y sus cuatro zorritos.
Cada tarde
tan pronto como obscurecía, el señor Zorro decía a la señora Zorra: ‘Bien mi
amor, ¿Qué tendremos esta vez? ¿Un pollo gordo de Boggis? ¿Un pato o un ganso de Bunce? O, ¿un
pavo fino de Bean?’ Y cuando la señora Zorra le decía lo que quería, el señor
Zorro andando a gatas bajaba al valle en la oscuridad de la noche y se servía a
su gusto.
Boggis, Bunce
y Bean sabían muy bien lo que pasaba y esto los hacía violentos y rabiosos. No
eran hombres a quienes les agradara desprenderse de algo. Y menos, todavía, que
los robaran. Así, cada noche, cada uno de ellos tomaba su fusil y se escondían
en un lugar oscuro, en algún sitio de su propia granja, esperando capturar al
ladrón.
Pero el señor
Zorro era muy listo para ellos, siempre se acercaba a una granja con el viento
soplándole en la cara y esto significaba que si cualquier hombre estaba
escondido en las sombras delante de él, el viento acarreaba desde lejos el olor
de aquel hombre hacia la nariz del zorro. Así, si el señor Boggis estaba
escondido detrás de sus Casa de Pollos Número Uno, el señor Zorro lo olía a
cincuenta yardas y con rapidez cambiaba
de dirección, adelantándose a la Casa de Pollos Número Cuatro en el otro confín
de la granja.
‘¡Maldición y
maldición que bestia infame!’, gritaba Boggis.
‘¡Me gustaría
arrancarle sus entrañas!’, decía Bunce.
‘¡Tenemos que
matarlo!’ exclamaba Bean.
‘¿Pero
cómo?’, dijo Boggis. ‘¿Cómo, en la tierra, podemos capturar al bribón?’
Bean escarbó
su nariz delicadamente con su dedo largo. ‘Tengo un plan,’ dijo.
‘Nunca
tuviste un plan decente todavía,’ dijo Bunce.
‘Callen y
escuchen,’ dijo Bean. ‘Mañana en la noche nos esconderemos justo fuera del
agujero donde el señor Zorro vive. Esperaremos ahí hasta que salga. Entonces. .
. ¡bang! Bang-bang-bang.’
‘Muy listo,’
dijo Bunce. ‘Pero primero tendremos que encontrar el agujero.’
‘Mi estimado
Bunce, ya lo encontré,’ dijo el astuto Bean. ‘Está arriba en el bosque sobre la
colina. Está
debajo de un árbol enorme. . .’
Questionnaire
Where were the tree farms? Down the valley. Who were
the owners of these farms? They were rich men and also nasty men. Were they as
nasty and mean as any man you could meet? They were worst men as any men you
could meet. What were their names? Their names were Farmer Boggis, Farmer Bunce
and Farmer Bean.
What did Boggis do for his living? Boggis bred
chickens. How was his appearance? He was enormously fat. Why was he so fat?
Because he ate three boiled chickens smothered with dumplings every day for
breakfast, lunch and supper.
What did Bunce do for his living? Bunce raised ducks
and geese. How many ducks and geese did he have? He had thousands of ducks and
geese. How was his appearance? He was very short. What did he eat? His food was
doughnuts and goose-livers. How did he cook his food? He mashed the livers and
then stuffed the paste into the doughnuts. What happens with his diet? It gave
him a tummy-ache and a beastly temper.
What did Bean do for his living? He bred turkeys and
he kept and orchard of apple trees. How many turkeys did he have in his
orchard? He kept thousands of turkeys. What does Bean eat? He doesn’t eat any food;
instead, he drank gallons of strong cider. How was his appearance? He was as
thin as a pencil. Was he clever? He was the cleverest of them all.
Who was fat? Boggis.
Who was short? Bunce.
Who was lean? Bean.
Who were they? They were horrible crooks.
Were they different? Yes, because their appearances.
Were they means? Yes, because they were the worst of
all men.
What did the children sing when they saw them? Boggis
and Bunce and Bean. . .
Questionnaire
2 Mr Fox
Where was there a wood? It was on a hill above the
valley. What was there in the wood? There was a huge tree. What was under the
tree? There was a hole. Who lived in the hole? Mr Fox and Mrs Fox and their
four Small Foxes lived in the hole. What
did Mr Fox do every evening? Mr Fox asked Mrs Fox , what shall it be this time? Mrs Fox waited Mr
Fox’s offerings. What did Mr Fox offer
to Mrs Fox? Mr Fox offered a chicken from Boggis, a duck or a goose from Bunce,
a Turkey from Bean. What did Mr Fox do after Mrs Fox told him what she wanted?
Mr Fox crept down into the valley to help himself.
Did Boggis, Bunce and Bean know what
was going on? They knew very well what was going on. How did they react? They
reacted with rage. Did they enjoy giving anything away? No, they were no men
who liked to give anything away. They didn’t like to be stolen. What did they
do every night? They took their shotgun, hoping to catch the robber.
Was Mr Fox clever? Yes, he was clever than Boggis,
Bunce and Bean. How Mr Fox approached a farm? He walked with the wind blowing
in his face. What did happen when a man was lurking in the shadows? The wind
would carry the smell of that man to Mr Fox’s nose. What did Mr Fox do when
there was a man? Mr Fox would smell him out from fifty yards off and he changed
direction, heading for the other end of the farm.
What did Boggis cry? They cried ‘Dang and Blast that
lousy beast!’ What did Bunce say? ‘I’d like to rip his guts out? What did Bean
cry? He must be killed!’
What was the question of Boggis? How are we going to
catch him? Bean answered ‘I have a plan.’ What did Bunce say? He said ‘You’ve
never had a decent plan yet. What was Bean’s answer? Shup up and listen,
tomorrow night we will hide just outside the hole where the fox lives, and then
. . . Bang! Bang-bang-bang. What did
Bunce say? He said ‘but first, we shall have to find the hole. What did bean
answer? I’ve already found it. Where was the hole? It’s up in the wood on the
hill under a huge tree.
3 the shooting
‘Well, my darling,’ said Mr Fox. ‘What shall it be
tonight?’
‘I think we’ll have duck tonight, ‘said Mrs Fox.
‘Bring us two fat ducks, if you please. One for you
and me, and one for the children.’
‘Ducks it shall be!’ said Mr Fox. ‘Bunce’s best!’
‘Now do be carefull,’ said Mrs Fox.
‘My darling,’ said Mr Fox, ‘I can smell those goons a
mile away. I can even smell one from the other. Boggis gives off a filthy stink
of rotten chicken-skins. Bunce reeks of goose-livers, and as for Bean, the
fumes of apple cider hang around him like poisonous gases.’
‘Yes, but just don’t get careless,’ said Mrs Fox. ‘You
know they’ll be waiting for you, all three of them.’
‘Don’t you worry about me,’ said Mr Fox. ‘I’ll see you
later.’
But Mr Fox would not have been quite so cocky had he
known exactly where the three farmers
were waiting at that moment. They were just outside the entrance to the hole,
each one crouching behind a tree with his gun loaded. And what is more, they
had chosen their positions very carefully, making sure that the wind was not blowing
from them towards the fox’s hole. In fact, it was blowing in the opposite
direction. There was no chance of them being ‘smelled out.’
Mr Fox crept up the dark tunnel to the mouth of his
hole. He pocked his long handsome face out into the night air and sniffed once.
He moved an inch or two forward and stopped.
He sniffed again. He was always especially careful
when coming out from his hole.
He inched forward a little more. The half of his body
was now in the open.
His black nose twitched from side to side, sniffing
and sniffing for the scent of danger. He found none, and he was just about to
go trotting forward into the wood when he heard or thought he heard a tiny
noise, a soft rustling sound, as though a patch of dry leaves.
Mr Fox flattened his body against the ground and lay
very still, his ears pricked. He waited a long time, but he heard nothing more.
‘It most have been a field-mouse,’ he told himself,
‘or some other small animal.’
He crept a little further out of the hole. . . then
further still. He was almost right out in the open now. He took a last careful
look around. The wood was murky and very still. Somewhere in the sky the moon
was shining.
Just then, his sharp night-eyes caught a glint of
something bright behind a tree not for away. It was a small silver speck of
moonlight shining on a polished surface. Mr Fox lay still, watching it. What on
earth was it? Now it was moving. It was coming up and up. . . Great heavens! It was the barrel of a gun!
Quick as a whip, Mr Fox jumped back into his hole and at that same instant the
entire wood seemed to explode around him. Bang-bang!
Bang-bang! Bang-bang!
The smoke from the three guns floated upward in the
night air. Boggis and Bunce and Bean came out from behind their trees and
walked toward the hole.
‘Did we get him?’ said Bean.
One of them shone a flashlight on the hole, and there
on the ground, in the circle of light, half in and half out of the hole, lay
the poor tattered bloodstained remains of. . . a fox’s tail. Bean picked it up.
‘We got the tail but we missed the fox,’ he said, tossing the thing away.
‘Dang and blast!’ said Boggis. ‘We shot too late. We
should have let fly the moment he poked his head out.’
‘He won’t be poking it out again in a hurry,’ Bunce
said.
Bean pulled a flash from his pocket and took a swig of
cider. Then he said, ‘It’ll take three days at least before he gets hungry
enough to come out again. I’m not sitting around here waiting f or that. Let’s
dig him out.’
‘Ah,’ said Boggis. ‘Now you’re talking sense. We can
dig him out in a couple hours. We know he’s there.’
‘I reckon there’s a whole family of them down that
hole,’ Bunce said.
‘Then we’ll have the lot,’ said Bean. ‘Get the
shovels!’
3 The shooting
El tiroteo
¡Bueno!, mi amada mujercita, dijo el
señor Zorro. ¿Qué tendremos esta noche?
¿Qué
tendremos esta noche? Creo que tendremos pavo esta noche, dijo la señora Zorro.
Nos
puedes traer dos patos gordos, por favor. Uno para ti y para mí y uno para los
niños.
Tendremos
patos, dijo el señor Zorro. Los mejores son los de Bunce.
Ahora
se cuidadoso, dijo la señora Zorro.
¡Bueno!,
mi amada mujercita, dijo el señor Zorro, puedo oler esos imbéciles a una milla
de distancia. Y aún puedo distinguirlos por el olor. Boggis emite un hedor
asqueroso de pieles de pollo podrido. Bunce hecha humo de hígados de ganso y en
cuanto a Bean, los vapores de cidra de manzana lo rodean como gases venenosos.
Sí,
pero solamente no seas descuidado, dijo la señora Zorro. Sabes que te están
esperando los tres.
No
te preocupes por mí, dijo el señor Zorro. Te veré al rato.
Pero
el señor Zorro no habría estado tan presumido si hubiera sabido donde lo estaban esperando, en aquel
momento, los tres granjeros. Se encontraban justamente fuera de la entrada del
agujero. Cada uno agazapado detrás de un árbol con su fusil cargado. Y, además,
habían escogido sus posiciones muy cuidadosamente, asegurándose que el viento
no estuviera soplando desde ellos hacia el agujero del zorro. De hecho, estaba
soplando en la dirección opuesta. No había ninguna posibilidad de que fueran
olidos.
El
señor Zorro trepó por el túnel oscuro a la boca de su agujero, asomó su larga
cara hermosa fuera del agujero en el aire nocturno y olfateó una vez más.
Se
movió hacia adelante una o dos pulgadas y se detuvo, olfateó otra vez. Siempre
era especialmente cuidadoso cuando salía de su agujero, se adelantó un poco
más. La mitad delantera de su cuerpo ahora estaba en lo descubierto.
Su
negra nariz volteaba de un lado a otro, oliendo, oliendo el indicio del
peligro. No encontró ninguno y estaba a punto de salir trotando al bosque
cuando escuchó o pensó haber escuchado un ruidito, un suave sonido crujiente
como si alguien hubiera movido un pie tan delicadamente sobre un pedazo de
hojas secas.
El
señor Zorro aplanó su cuerpo contra el piso y permaneció muy quieto, sus oídos
se aguzaban, espero un largo rato, pero no escuchó nada más.
‘Debe
haber sido un ratón de campo,’ pensó o algún otro animalito.
Se
arrastró un poco más fuera del agujero. . . entonces además de eso se quedó
inmóvil, ahora estaba casi afuera en lo descubierto, echó una última mirada
cuidadosa a su alrededor. El bosque estaba sombrío y muy tranquilo. En alguna
parte, en el cielo, la luna estaba brillando.
Justo
entonces, sus agudos ojos nocturnos captaron un destello de algo brillante no
lejos detrás de un árbol. Era un pequeño resplandor plateado del brillo de la
luz de la luna sobre una superficie pulida. El señor Zorro permanecía quieto,
observándolo. ¡Diablos! ¿Qué era aquello? Ahora se estaba moviendo, estaba
surgiendo, saliendo. . . ¡Por los cielos! ¡Era el cañón de un rifle! Rápido
como un látigo, el señor Zorro retrocedió a su agujero y en el mismo instante
el bosque entero pareció explotar a su alrededor. ¡Bang-bang! ¡Bang-bang!
¡Bang-bang!
El
humo de los tres fusiles flotaba hacia arriba en el aire de la noche. Boggis y
Bunce y Bean salieron de detrás de sus árboles y caminaron hacia el agujero.
¿Lo
pescamos? decía Bean.
Uno
de ellos hizo brillar un rayo de luz
sobre el agujero y ahí, en el suelo, en el círculo de luz, mitad dentro y mitad
fuera del agujero, estaban los pobres restos deshilachados manchados de sangre
de. . . una cola de zorro. Bean los levantó. ‘Conseguimos la cola pero perdimos
al zorro,’ dijo, meneando a distancia aquello.
¡Maldición¡
y ¡Maldición¡ dijo Boggis. ‘Disparamos muy tarde. Permitimos que pasara el
momento en que sacó su cabeza.’
‘No
la sacará otra vez tan pronto,’ dijo Bunce.
Bean
sacó un frasco de bolsillo de su bolso y tomó un trago de sidra. Entonces dijo
‘tomará tres días al menos antes de que tenga suficiente hambre para que vuelva
a salir. No voy a sentarme aquí esperando a que salga. Cavemos para sacarlo.’
‘Ah,’
dijo Boggis. ‘Ahora hablas con sentido. Podemos cavar y sacarlo en un par de
horas. Sabemos que está ahí.’
‘Considero
que hay todo una familia del zorro ahí, abajo, en ese agujero,’ dijo Bunce.
‘Entonces
tendremos el grupo,’ dijo Bean. ‘¡Consigamos las palas!’
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