Hey there, and welcome back to Animal Farm: The Novelization. I hope everyone had a fun, safe, and free Halloween this year.
The next two chapters may contain some shout-outs to other pieces of animal literature from the UK. Both are separated by several decades, but they're still both entertaining stories.
Uploading Date: November 1, 2021
Enjoy!
Chapter 15: Life On the Run
Several years had passed since Sam and his friends had fled Animal Farm. Sam and Jessie had grown old together, yet they were not mates. Jessie had vowed not to have another mate after Pinscher had betrayed her and Bluebell and had died. Then again, Sam had seen Jessie as a mother figure and wouldn't see her in any other way.
Years in the wild had not been too kind to both dogs. Their fur had become matted and often dirty, unless if they went through a river or stream. They roamed at the edge of villages and towns, foraging for leftover scraps; they knew that the great city of London was north of their location, but they would never set paw into a city. Whenever they went into the woods, they would either try catching fish in the streams or hunt down any rabbits or mice. Shelter came in the forms of either old buildings in towns and villages or fallen logs and rocks in the woods. Benjamin and Muriel had a somewhat easier time in finding food due to being herbivores, but their shelter had to be under the canopies of trees.
If Sam had to say it, he and Jessie did not feel as free as they thought they would. They had to keep watching the skies for any pigeons. They were sure to hear the humans talking about Animal Farm; some were even farmers who wanted a piece of what Animal Farm had. So he and his companions had to make sure that they didn't stay for long near the villages and towns.
One cloudy day in early summer, Sam and Jessie were padding alongside the highway, outside the nearest village. They were wondering if something had been hit and killed by passing motorcars. Roadkill was a sorry meal, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
"Find anything?" Sam called to Jessie, who was on the other side of the road.
"Just a squirrel or two," replied Jessie, and she held up two squirrels by the tails in her jaws. "They're not much of a meal. Do you want one?"
Sam's belly growled with hunger, as it often had during the past few years. It had been a long time since he had tasted actual meat. These squirrels being roadkill aside, he wasn't one to turn down from a meaty meal. He padded over to Jessie and grabbed a squirrel, sinking his teeth into it. The meat wasn't exactly fresh, but they knew that food was food.
Something began crashing through the bushes, and Sam crouched, prepared to spring away from the beast. But he and Jessie relaxed when they saw who it was: Benjamin, whom they hadn't seen for three days. The old donkey looked even older than ever, his gray muzzle even grayer.
"I was looking for you two everywhere," Benjamin said, reaching the dogs. "I hadn't seen you for the past few days. How are you?"
"We're doing alright," said Jessie, and the dogs relaxed. "Sam and I found something to eat. How are you and Muriel?"
"I'm fine," said Benjamin, his voice hollow. "As for Muriel...it's hard to say when one is buried six feet deep."
At this, Sam dropped the squirrel meat he had been devouring. "Muriel's dead?"
"Yes. It was old age. I buried her near a lake." Benjamin nodded his head to the trees behind him, where the lake supposedly was. "She told me that she had wanted to see a lake before she died. At least she seemed free in her last moments on earth."
Sam and Jessie bowed their heads in sorrow. While they weren't too familiar with the female goat, they did get to know her better once they had fled from Animal Farm. She had been an adventurous old goat who liked traveling England and Scotland before settling in Pinchfield.
The dogs were just finished with the squirrels when a car zoomed by with a loud honk. A newspaper flew out from the car window and hit Benjamin in the face, who brayed from irritation before he shook it off of his head. He was able to pin the newspaper down with his hoof before reading through it.
"I thought you weren't one for reading," Jessie joked.
"I'm not. At least, not aloud," said Benjamin. "Jones is in the newspaper. Animal Farm won't have to worry about him anymore, no matter what Squealer says. He died just yesterday."
The two dogs were surprised. They hadn't heard anything of Jones at all ever since the Battle of the Cowshed all those years ago. While they had no love for the farmer, it was still surprising to hear of his death, and they even felt a flash of pity in their hearts.
"How did he die?" asked Sam. "Where was he?"
"In the hospital," said Benjamin, and he looked back down to the newspaper. "But from what it says in this paper, he killed himself by overdrinking. Maybe the pigeons have heard about it now."
At the mention of the pigeons, Sam shuddered, and he was unable to keep silent about his earlier thoughts. Were there pigeons everywhere in England, and not just in cities and farms?
"We're still not free," he said aloud. "Free means being able to live life. But with the fear of Animal Farm's pigeons being around...that's not free."
Benjamin rolled his eyes. "Again, you've forgotten that I'm friends with some of the pigeons. They won't reveal our location even if they find us. There was no need to keep watching the skies."
Sam wanted to believe Benjamin. But for now, it was better to be safe than sorry. For now, the three friends decided to stick by the road to look for more leftover food thrown out or run over.
...
The three remaining fugitives had left the edge of the nearest village, out to the countryside. Sam normally loved the countryside, with not many buildings or smoke in line of sight, nothing but trees and fields, perhaps a river or mountain. How he longed to be relaxing on a morning like this, observing the scenery while laying beside his owners' porch chairs.
But the threat of Napoleon and the farms they had fought with still hung in the warm dry air. He tried to remember Benjamin telling him that there was no need to watch the skies since the pigeons hadn't been seen for a long time. All that they had going for them out in the countryside, with no other companions or real shelter, was hope.
Sam was still lost in his thoughts when he felt something feathery bump his leg, which Jessie alerted him of by barking. He looked down and gazed at the object with curiosity.
It was a pheasant. It was a dead pheasant. The poor animal was laying by the side of the road, its neck torn and bloody. An animal had probably killed it and left it there.
"One of you didn't kill that, did you?" asked Benjamin, eying the pheasant with confusion.
"Nope," said Sam. He bent forward and sniffed the dead creature three times. "It smells fresh. Someone must've killed it recently."
"I'd like some too," said Jessie. "But didn't Animalism say that we shouldn't kill or eat other animals?"
"We're not at Animal Farm anymore," reasoned Benjamin. "I hardly think their rules apply to the outside world. You had no problem eating that squirrel by the road outside the village." He turned away from the others, adding, "If you want to eat it, be my guest. I'm a bit hungry myself. I'll be right back after I eat."
He plodded away, heading deeper into the forest for something to eat. The two dogs were left to discuss over who would get the pheasant first.
"Benjamin was right about the squirrel," said Jessie with a frown. "What was I thinking? Here, Sam." She nudged the dead bird towards him until it was at his paws. "You can have this. You need your strength."
Sam had to admit, the scent of pheasant meat did sound like a perfect lunch or dinner. But poor Jessie looked worse off than he did. Being an older dog, her fur was less shiny than it had when she was younger, with some of her ribs visible.
"No, you can have it," Sam insisted, nudging the pheasant to Jessie. "You need this a lot more than I do. I can look for something else to eat."
Jessie flashed him a grateful look and took a hold of the dead pheasant. It was still limp and somewhat warm in her mouth, confirming that it was killed not too long ago.
"Pardon me, madam, but drop that pheasant."
Jessie dropped the pheasant and sat up. A red fox was slinking towards the two dogs. His reddish fur was a fiery orange in the sunlight, and his white-tipped plume of a tail swished to and fro like a soldier brandishing a cutlass. While foxes were usually no threats to two or more dogs, they were already not in the best condition to fight after scavenging for so long.
"But we found the pheasant first," protested Jessie.
"Correction: It's my pheasant. I caught it, fair and square," said the fox, amber eyes narrowing. "I was taking it home to my mate, for she's expecting kits. As for the pheasant, I was going to come back and bury it after I was finished finding water."
"So you're going to be a father?"
"Ex-actly," said the fox with a twinkle in his eye. "But I wasn't expecting a thief to steal from a thief. Now I suggest you drop that pheasant, Miss Collie, or I'll have no choice but to attack."
But Sam jumped in the way, placing himself between Jessie and the fox. "My companion's not well," he said. "I was the one who told her that she could have the pheasant. So if you want to attack someone, attack me."
The fox shrugged. "Very well. An old dog is no challenge for a fox anyway."
With the sudden speed of a train, he lunged at Sam, teeth bared and ready to attack. Sam took the attack on his left flank and shoved him back so that the fox was pushed away from Jessie. The fox was quick, though, and came running back with full force. Sam reached up to grab the fox by the neck and threw him down to the ground, briefly gaining the upper hand. But the smaller canine grabbed one of Sam's front paws and pulled him down, quickly twisting himself up and pinning Sam to the ground with both paws.
As the fox was ready to finish Sam off, however, a loud whinny stopped him in his tracks. The fox clambered off of Sam, who looked up in time to see a horse trotting towards the battle scene. Just her presence alone seemed to cause the fox to wilt from the sight and drop the confrontational act.
"Mr. Fox," whinnied the white mare, her voice creaking yet holding some authority. "What have I told you? You're too near the sanctuary to attack others. Would you want them hunting you down for this?"
"Sorry, ma'am," said he, backing away. "But I had a right to attack these two dogs. They were taking food that my mate needs."
"But they didn't know that it was your food," said the mare, pawing the ground. "It was an accident that these two ended up near your den. Look, I'll take it from here now. Just leave them alone."
The fox sniffed a few times and slowly backed away. He had wanted food, not a fight. Aside from the fact that he was much smaller, the idea of facing down a horse wasn't a good idea, no matter how dainty that horse would look.
Finally, the fox nodded. "Good. I was going to leave anyway," he declared, casting the dogs one more stare. "If they were to fully take my mate's meal, that little dog would be getting one cuss of a fight."
He snatched the pheasant up and trotted away, slipping into the undergrowth. Sam and Jessie sighed with relief. Even though the latter was hungrier than before, it was good to avoid another fight and live for another day.
Behind them, the mare snorted in satisfaction before turning her attention to the newcomers. "I heard barking nearby, so I followed the sounds," she said. "And it looked like you two needed help."
"Thanks," said Sam. "That fox looked like he was ready to maul us for that pheasant."
"I don't blame him," the mare explained. "He's looking for food like you two are. I know where to find some."
Jessie was looking up at the mare, narrowing her eyes. She looked familiar, like someone that they knew at Animal Farm. There were even dark blue ribbons in her mane, and there was a scent of sugar on her nose and mouth.
Then Jessie exclaimed one name: "Mollie?"
The white mare nodded. "It's been a long time, Jessie and Sam," she said. "I'm glad to see some familiar faces."
It was hard to believe it. Mollie - the horse that had fled from Animal Farm - was finally here. She didn't look as pretty as she had in her youth, with her mane being a bit messier. But she now looked wiser, more comfortable in traveling the country roads without a human with her.
"It's good to see you again, Mollie," said Jessie. "Looks like you're doing well."
"Thank you," said Mollie. "But you two look like nothing more than skin and bone. Snowball might help you with food, but I wouldn't trust him completely."
At the mention of the pig, Sam and Jessie shared shocked looks. "Snowball's around here?" asked Sam.
"Yes. He's made a farm of his own in the woods," explained Mollie, nodding her head behind her, "for runaway farm animals and even wild animals."
A crash in the undergrowth caught the animals' attention. Benjamin had come ambling out of the woods, chewing and swallowing the last of nearby grass.
"Hello, Benjamin," Mollie greeted him with a small smile.
"I heard everything, Mollie. You're still alive," Benjamin remarked when he recognized her. "Looks like you've moved past being a vain and silly young mare. Snowball's farm must be good for something."
"Oh no, I'm not living there. I would never live the life he wants other animals to lead," said Mollie. "I never believed in the things that Animal Farm stood for. Yes, I've always loved sugar and ribbons, looking pretty for humans. I pull their carts for them, and they make sure that I'm taken care of. And I have to admit, I did leave the farm for selfish reasons: ribbons, sugar, and human care."
"I understand, Mollie," Jessie finally said. Beside her, Benjamin only snorted yet said nothing about it.
"But things hadn't always been good," confessed Mollie. "You saw the publican I was with, right? After he died, I was sold to the knackers, where they were going to slit my throat and melt me down for glue. But a young girl got her mother to buy me and bring me to a sanctuary, where animals are given a second chance in life." She gave a small smile and swished her tail. "It's a far better land than Animal Farm could ever be."
"Which glue factory were you at?" asked Benjamin.
"Is it important?" asked Mollie curiously.
Benjamin nodded, grief visible in his eyes. "Yes, very. Boxer died there. He was at - "
"'Alfred Simmonds, Horse Slaughterer and Glue Boiler, Willingdon,'" Mollie recited as if she were reading a newspaper, and her voice took on a much sadder tone. "'Dealer in Hides and Bone-Meal. Kennels Supplied'. I know, I was there shortly after Boxer died."
"So you have heard about Boxer?" said Sam.
Mollie nodded as she gently nuzzled the old donkey, her eyes getting misty. "Yes. Word reached us through the pigeons, though one pigeon personally told me the truth. Boxer had been kind to me while I lived on Animal Farm, strong and kind but sadly not the smartest. I was sad to hear that he had been sold to the knacker's, and I was beyond disgusted at what Napoleon and the pigs had done. After that, I promised to help any animal that is either abused or lost, and I'm able to do that with the sanctuary I live at now."
The three fugitives joined her in mourning for the dead Clydesdale. Sam noticed that Mollie was gently nuzzling Benjamin, who had tears trickling down his cheeks; it was the second time that he had noticed Benjamin openly cry.
When they were finished mourning, Benjamin said, "You said that you know where Snowball is at, Mollie. Is he around here, or are you fooling us old codgers?"
"I'm not joking," said Mollie, turning around to head down the road. "I visit him from time to time. Follow me, you three."
And that was what Sam and Jessie did. They followed the white mare down the unfamiliar road. While they walked, they let Mollie know what all went on after Boxer had been sold to the glue factory. They told her about the time they had spent in the wild and near human settlements, and how Muriel had died and was buried near a lake. In return, Mollie told them about her life as a publican's horse and her new life after having been rescued from the glue factory and given to a sanctuary
It wasn't long before they left the open fields and arrived under the cover of the forest. Not far away from the forest entrance, they finally came across a farm with gray farm buildings: a gray barn, a gray cottage, and a gray henhouse. This was neither Foxwood nor Pinchfield, but a nice farm in the forest. It was a smaller farm than either of the farms, with only one field useful for growing vegetables.
"What made you not trust Snowball?" asked Benjamin as they approached the entrance of the farm.
"It wasn't because I liked a life of sugar and ribbons, which I still like," Mollie defended herself. "But the more Snowball talked about rebelling against humans and all animals were good, the less sense he made. He wasn't as mean or cruel as Napoleon, but I doubt he would have been good for long had he stayed longer. And I don't want to disrespect Old Major's memory, but he was wrong about humans being enemies and animals being friends. That's not to say that he was completely wrong," she added when Jessie gave her a surprised look. "Some animals are certainly overworked and abused on some farms. But that doesn't describe all humans; some do want to take care of animals and their welfare."
"I couldn't agree more," said Sam. He remembered his humans from several years back, when they had cared for him after he had escaped from Napoleon's Animal Guard. Looking at his companions, he hoped that one day, they would find a nice human who would take the utmost care of them.
Suddenly, a chant rose in their ears. It was a song that they hadn't heard before, but it had the same nature as "Beasts of England". And a very familiar voice - a firm and crisp voice - was singing this to someone:
"Beasts of the world, we shall unite
Rise up and ready for the fight
Soon or late, the day will be
When Man's defeated and we are free
Soon or late, the day will be
When Man's defeated and we are free."
The three fugitives shared a look, Mollie giving them a knowing smile. She led the way down the path and towards the farm buildings. It was when they reached the barn did they find out what was going on.
Several farm animals had gathered outside the barn, singing the song along with the familiar voice. There were several pigs and sheep already singing, and a cow had arrived to start mooing the song. It wasn't just farm animals here, they realized. Sam even saw a badger and an otter chanting the same thing, as well as twin fawns. They kept quiet while the song continued:
"Though our lives be full of misery
And our limbs are tired and worn
Our dreams will not be broken
And our hearts will not be torn
Our dreams will not be broken
And our hearts will not be torn."
The animals cheered, and Jessie smiled when they gave each other encouraging words and nudges. Then the three fugitives heard another chant that chilled them to the bone:
"Long live Forest Farm! Long live Comrade Snowball!"
To be continued...
