Rags the little Border Terrier stirred from his comfortable position on the back seat of the car as it left the motorway and joined the slow moving summer traffic.

The journey from Liverpool had been long and boring for a dog who had recently celebrated his second birthday, but now as the Somerset countryside and small villages rolled past there were many things of interest. People were walking their dogs; cows, sheep and horses grazed in the fields, and Rags was beginning to look forward to his holiday in a caravan on Exmoor

When they eventually arrived at the camp site it was surrounded by open moorland, with hills, valleys, and a wonderful small stream to play in.

The next day Rags, his boss, and missus decided to go for a walk and picnic in a place where a lot of woolly sheep with horns were living. Because Rags was only used to city life, and had never seen sheep at close quarters, his boss kept him on the lead until they reached a lovely warm hollow, an ideal spot for their picnic.

It was a beautiful summer's day and there were no sheep around so Rags was at last allowed to wander free. His boss and missus had enjoyed the walk, and with the sun shining lay back to sunbathe. Soon they were fast asleep and Rags began to explore further, and further afield.

He set off up a fern covered hill, but because he had very short legs he was only able to see what was under the fern. He had travelled quite a long way when his nose detected a scent he had never encountered before, something in the back of his mind was forcing him to follow this scent, he was being drawn as if by a magnet. All at once he was in a clearing and there under a dead tree stump were two yellow brown eyes watching him.

After he had recovered his composure, Rags walked very steadily towards this strange animal wanting to introduce himselt~ as he felt sure this was a local resident. When he got near enough to speak he found himself face to face with a very old, large and bad tempered moorland fox known to everyone as 'Reynard'. Rags stopped, tried to find the right words but before he could say anything Reynard with a one sided growl, showing some of the largest, dirtiest teeth Rags had ever seen, turned, and made off down the other side of the hill.

Now this is where things first got out of hand. Rags hesitated knowing he should return to where he had left his boss, but all his ancestors had been with fox hunting kennels and this is what was drawing him on. In a flash he was after Reynard calling and chattering to him all the way. His little legs seemed to be propelled along and to make things worse the scent that had first attracted him was coming stronger with every step. On they went, first along the bank of the river, then over a broken down wall and up a dry ditch, , Reynard always that short distance ahead. Rags could not see where he was going most of the time but that inborn instinct kept driving him on.

At last they came to open rocky land again, and without a backward glance Reynard disappeared into a narrow slit in what otherwise looked like solid rock. Rags reached the slit, and although this was something he would not normally do, he threw caution to the winds and went inside. He was amazed how cool it was in there, and how large, as he followed Reynard's scent along this passage it began to get darker and darker, until he could only see a few inches in front of him.

There were many other passages to left and right from which came the most peculiar sounds, some of scuttling and others as if someone was asleep and snoring, on he went ignoring every thing except that scent luring him into what was now almost total darkness. The passage was beginning to narrow, and the ceiling became much lower, little Rags sometimes had to bend his legs and flatten his ears to get a long without scratching himself Suddenly he came to a very narrow entrance, the scent of Reynard was strong and Rag's instinct was screaming at him to be careful.

He cautiously put his head through the entrance when 'wham' what on earth is that? Something had him very painfully by his nose. He struggled and growled, but it was no use, Reynard's big teeth were fast in the end of his nose, and top jaw.

Rags shook his head, tugging this way and that, trying to free himself from that awful bite. The fox,s breath was hot and foul, and those two yellow brown eyes were staring hard into his own. At last with a super effort Rags managed to break away, leaving some of his skin with the fox and banging his ear on the hard sharp rock. He knew he had cut himself as he could feel his blood running down and dripping from the end of his nose. Brave as he was Rags decided that this was enough. He couldn't see, and he couldn't defend himself He started to make his way out, the fox was still growling behind him, but didn't follow.

Finding his way out of the rocks proved very difficult. The way in had been marked so well by that scent, and his nose was in perfect working order then. Coming out was quite another matter.

He came to a junction and stopped, trying to remember which path was the right one, listening as much as his racing heartbeats would allow. There were faint sound of rustling coming from the passage in front of him, but still unable to see anything he thought it unwise to disturb anyone else. He cautiously started along the other path going only a few yards before realising he was wrong. He heard the snorting sound when it was only a few feet ahead. Stopping dead in his tracks he tried to see or smell whatever, or whoever, it was in his way.

He had decided to return to the junction when something came charging towards him. Rags tucked his tail down, turned and was on his way out when the badger snapped at him. Luckily for Rags the old badger was just a little slower than he used to be, or he would have suffered a very grave injury. As it was he received a nasty gash across his flank.

He reached the junction, and without hesitation ran as fast as he could along the path where the rustling sounds had come from. To his great relief this turned out to be no more than a family of rats, who made way for him immediately, jumping up on ledges, allowing him to pass.

Several more times Rags came to places where he was uncertain which way he should go but by being very cautious he managed to steer clear of further trouble. When at last he could see a little, he knew he was on the right path. He wanted to be out of this place more than anything, and he had just remembered how long it was since he left his boss and missus sunbathing.

He came to the entrance and looked out, everything was different now. When he went in the sun was shining, and the day warm and bright, now it was almost dark and raining hard. Rags could not believe his eyes, how could it change so quickly?

He tried to find the path down from the rocks but everything looked the same to him, the fern was dripping wet, there was nothing to tell him which way he had come up. He started in one direction, changed his mind, and tried another, all the time the rain was soaking him. His head was sore, and the gash on his flank made walking difficult. It was almost completely dark now, and Rags was lost.

He wandered around through most of the night until early in the morning he found a hollow in a stone wall. Rags crept in and cold, wet, and hungry, he fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was daylight when he woke, the rain was still lashing down, and although his shelter had kept him fairly dry from above the water was now flooding almost up to the ledge where he had slept. He stood up trying to stretch, but was too stiff and cold. He knew he should move before the flood reached him but to do so he must swim a few feet to higher ground. Deciding it was time to go, Rags slipped gently into the water.

Reaching dry land again he felt a little better, and made for a tree stump in the distance which he approached very warily remembering the last one he had investigated. The mud was deep and sticky where the sheep had walked round and round rubbing their backs on a broken branch, but Rags could see that if he tucked himself in he would at last be out of this dreadful rain.

He lay quite still, trying to get warm, and doing his best to forget his hunger. It still rained, but there was no danger from floods as the old tree had groxvn on a very steep slope. Rags watched the little streams running down amongst the fern, and wished he knew what to do next. It started to get dark again, the little dog wanted to come out of his shelter to look for his boss but every time he ventured a few steps he became soaking wet.

All though that long night the storm continued. Rags curled himself into the smallest ball trying to sleep. At last the first signs of dawn came over the distant moorland, as the light improved the rain stopped, and Rags made up his mind to look for help. He came out from under his tree almost swimming through the deep slurry mud, and made his way down the side of the hill where the early morning sun was just beginning to cast its shadows.

Rags kept going down hill trying to avoid the covering of wet fern, his coat began to dry, and his little spirits rose, but he was soon faced with another problem, the river. It was roaring down from the high moorland completely blocking his path, he continued downstream keeping in the sunshine as much as possible.

The other bank seemed to be bright and cheerful, but how was he to cross? To try swimming in such a current would, he was sure, end in complete disaster. As he came over a small hill his heart leapt, in front of him was the bridge still a few inches clear of the torrent. He was over the bridge in a few seconds out once again in the warm sunshine.

He made his way along a footpath and tired, hungry, stiff and sore as he was, made good progress. Very tired now he sat in the middle of the track to rest. He had been there some little time when a noise made him turn around.

As he turned he saw a man and dog coming towards him. The dog seemed very friendly and the man was talking with a kind and gentle voice. Rags allowed himself to be picked up and at last felt safe again. He was taken to a police station where a message was sent to his owners who had reported him missing the day before.

He visited the vet who decided that he required no treatment other than a bath, a warm meal, and plenty of rest. His cuts and bruises healed, but he will never forget his First Holiday on Exmoor.