The Forest of Fear

Dear Diary,

Whilst we each struggled separately to free ourselves from our bonds, all to no avail, I suggested we concentrate our efforts on freeing Chesterton. As he is the strongest, he would then be able to help free us or to defend us if the need should arise.

In doing so, I managed to speak with Miss Wright, and I fear I may have overplayed my part since our departure. She seemed genuinely surprised that I wanted to help. I tried to assure the poor dear that we were companions. Yes, companions. And I explained to her that just as Chesterton had spoken of our fear, we must not forget its companion: hope.

Luckily, the old woman, Hur, I believe her name was, rather conveniently, entered the cave and promised to free us if we would promise not to help them make fire. We of course assented and she instructed us to flee into the trees.

Having been unconscious for my journey to the cave, I depended on my companions to remember the way. We ran quite a way until I had to stop to catch my breath. Chesterton being the tiresome young fellow he is, seems to have elected himself leader of our little party, and moaned about the time we were losing while we gathered our breath. I told him so be it, but I would not follow his orders blindly and I would appreciate if he would stop looking at me as if I were the weakest link in this party.

Just as we were preparing to get underway again, we heard a fearful sound. I urged the party forward, but Miss Wright and Chesterton insisted on coming to the aid of one of our pursuers who had been attacked by a wild beast. Susan, of course, cast her lot with them and I had no choice but to follow.

Why must they get involved? There can be no good to come from it. I know. It is best not to involve oneself with the affairs of others. But I suppose that wisdom comes with age.

At any rate, I must admit Chesterton did an admirable job caring for the injured fellow. These savages seem incapable of understanding kindness or compassion. His mate had great difficulty believing we were actually trying to help him and not kill him outright, but eventually relented and allowed Chesterton to provide aid. She still jealously would not allow Susan to touch him. Hmph! Miss Wright, however, was able to convince her to gather water to clean the wound.

Again I saw how low their level of trust in me has sunk as I reached for the fallen man’s stone knife and Chesterton grasped my wrist. As if I planned to split the man’s skull! Preposterous! But I’ll let the young fool continue to believe what he wishes.

Chesterton then got the outrageous idea to carry the man to the ship in search of antiseptic, and against my objections (but of course with Susan’s encouragement) we rigged a stretcher from Chesterton’s coat and carried him toward the TARDIS.

As we approached, it became obvious that the TARDIS was surrounded. As we turned to flee, it became obvious that so were we.

Based upon the teleplay by Anthony Coburn, first broadcast on BBC 7th December, 1963