"Well, then the four of us ran off into the dark and, sure enough, after we'd gone a little way two sentries popped up and tried to stop us. We all piled straight into them. I thought they'd run, but they didn't. They fought like mad and one of them tore Buckthorn all down the nose. But of course there were four of us; and in the end we broke past them and simply tore across the field. We had no idea which way we were going, what with the rain and the night: we just ran. I think the reason why the pursuit was a bit slow off the mark was because poor old Bugloss wasn't there to give the orders. Anyway, we had a fair start. But presently we could hear that we were being followed-and, what was worse, we were being overtaken.
"The Efrafan Owsla are no joke, believe me. They're all picked for size and strength and there's nothing they don't know about moving in wet and darkness. They're all so much afraid of the Council that they're not afraid of anything else. It wasn't long before I knew we were in trouble. The patrol that was after us could actually follow us in the dark and rain faster than we could run away, and before long they were close behind. I was just going to tell the others that there was nothing for it but to turn and fight when we came to a great, steep bank that seemed to slope almost straight up into the air. It was steeper than this hillside below us here, and the slope seemed to be regular, as if men had made it.
"Well, there was no time to think about it, so up we went. It was covered with rough grass and bushes. I don't know how far it was to the top exactly, but I should guess it was as high as a well-grown rowan tree-perhaps a bit higher. When we got to the top we found ourselves on small, light stones that shifted as we ran on them. That gave us away completely. Then we came upon broad, flat pieces of wood and two great, fixed bars of metal that made a noise-a kind of low, humming noise in the dark. I was just saying to myself, 'This is men's work, all right, when I fell over the other side. I hadn't realized that the whole top of the bank was only a very short distance across and the other side was just as steep. I went head over heels down the bank in the dark and fetched up against an elder bush-and there I lay."
Holly stopped and fell silent, as though pondering on what he remembered. At last he said,
"It's going to be very hard to describe to you what happened next. Although all four of us were there, we don't understand it ourselves. But what I'm going to say now is the cold truth. Lord Frith sent one of his great Messengers to save us from the Efrafan Owsla. Each one of us had fallen over the edge of the bank in one place or another. Buckthorn, who was half blinded with his own blood, went down almost to the bottom. I'd picked myself up and was looking back at the top. There was just enough light in the sky to see the Efrafans if they came over. And then-then an enormous thing-I can't give you any idea of it-as big as a thousand hrududil-bigger-came rushing out of the night. It was full of fire and smoke and light and it roared and beat on the metal lines until the ground shook beneath it. It drove in between us and the Efrafans like a thousand thunderstorms with lightning. I tell you, I was beyond being afraid. I couldn't move. The flashing and the noise-they split the whole night apart. I don't know what happened to the Efrafans: either they ran away or it cut them down. And then suddenly it was gone and we heard it disappearing, rattle and bang, rattle and bang, far away in the distance. We were completely alone.
"For a long time I couldn't move. At last I got up and found the others, one by one, in the dark. None of us said a word. At the bottom of the slope we discovered a kind of tunnel that went right through the bank from one side to the other. We crept into it and came out on the side where we'd gone up. Then we went a long way through the fields, until I reckoned we must be well clear of Efrafa. We crawled into a ditch and slept there, all four of us, until morning. There was no reason why anything shouldn't have come and killed us, and yet we knew we were safe. You may think it's a wonderful thing to be saved by Lord Frith in his power. How many rabbits has that happened to, I wonder? But I tell you, it was far more frightening than being chased by the Efrafans. Not one of us will forget lying on that bank in the rain while the fire creature went by above our heads. Why did it come on our account? That's more than we shall ever know.
"The next morning I cast around a bit and soon I knew which was the right direction. You know how you always do. The rain had stopped and we set out. But it was a very hard journey back. We were exhausted long before the end-all except Silver: I don't know what we'd have done without him. We went on for a day and a night without any real rest at all. We all felt that the only thing we wanted to do was to get back here as soon as we could. When I reached the wood this morning I was just limping along in a bad dream. I'm not really much better than poor old Strawberry, I'm afraid. He never complained, but he'll need a long rest and I rather think I shall, too. And Buckthorn-that's the second bad wound he's had. But that's not the worst now, is it? We've lost Hazel: the worst thing that could have happened. Some of you asked me earlier this evening if I would be Chief Rabbit. I'm glad to know you trust me, but I'm completely done in and I can't possibly take it on yet. I feel as dry and empty as an autumn puffball-I feel as though the wind could blow my fur away."
28. At the Foot of the Hill
Marvellous happy it was to be
Alone, and yet not solitary.
O out of terror and dark, to come
In sight of home.
Walter de la Mare, The Pilgrim
"You're not too tired to silflay, are you?" asked Dandelion. "And at the proper time of day, for a change? It's a lovely evening, if my nose says right. We ought to try not to be more miserable than we can help, you know."
"Just before we silflay," said Bigwig, "can I tell you, Holly, that I don't believe anyone else could have brought himself and three other rabbits safely back out of a place like that?"
"Frith meant us to get back," replied Holly. "That's the real reason why we're here."
As he turned to follow Speedwell up the run that led into the wood, he found Clover beside him. "You and your friends must find it strange to go outside and eat grass," he said. "You'll get used to it, you know. And I can promise you that Hazel-rah was right when he told you it's a better life here than in a hutch. Come with me and I'll show you a patch of nice, short tail-grass, if Bigwig hasn't had it all while I've been away."
Holly had taken to Clover. She seemed more robust and less timid than Boxwood and Haystack and was evidently doing her best to adapt herself to warren life. What her stock might be he could not tell, but she looked healthy.
"I like it underground all right," said Clover, as they came up into the fresh air. "The closed space is really very much like a hutch, except that it's darker. The difficult thing for us is going to be feeding in the open. We're not used to being free to go where we like and we don't know what to do. You all act so quickly and half the time I don't know why. I'd prefer not to feed very far from the hole, if you don't mind."
They moved slowly across the sunset grass, nibbling as they went: Clover was soon absorbed in feeding, but Holly stopped continually to sit up and sniff about him at the peaceful, empty down. When he noticed Bigwig, a little way off, staring fixedly to the north, he at once followed his gaze.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's Blackberry," replied Bigwig. He sounded relieved.
Blackberry came hopping rather slowly down from the skyline. He looked tired out, but as soon as he saw the other rabbits he came on faster and made his way to Bigwig.
"Where have you been?" asked Bigwig. "And where's Fiver? Wasn't he with you?"
"Fiver's with Hazel," said Blackberry. "Hazel's alive. He's been wounded-it's hard to tell how badly-but he won't die."
The other three rabbits looked at him speechlessly. Blackberry waited, enjoying the effect.
"Hazel's alive?" said Bigwig. "Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," said Blackberry. "He's at the foot of the hill at this very moment, in that ditch where you were the night Holly and Bluebell arrived."
"I can hardly believe it," said Ho
lly. "If it's true, it's the best news I've ever heard in my life. Blackberry, you really are sure? What happened? Tell us."
"Fiver found him," said Blackberry. "Fiver took me with him, nearly all the way back to the farm: then he went along the ditch and found Hazel gone to ground up a land drain. He was very weak from loss of blood and he couldn't get out of the drain by himself. We had to drag him by his good hind leg. He couldn't turn round, you see."
"But how on earth did Fiver know?"
"How does Fiver know what he knows? You'd better ask him. When we'd got Hazel into the ditch, Fiver looked to see how badly he was hurt. He's got a nasty wound in one hind leg, but the bone isn't broken: and he's torn all along one side. We cleaned up the places as well as we could and then we started out to bring him back. It's taken us the whole evening. Can you imagine it-daylight, dead silence and a lame rabbit reeking of fresh blood? Luckily, it's been the hottest day we've had this summer-not a mouse stirring. Time and again we had to take cover in the cow parsley and rest. I was all on the jump, but Fiver was like a butterfly on a stone. He sat in the grass and combed his ears. 'Don't get upset, he kept saying. 'There's nothing to worry about. We can take our time. After what I'd seen, I'd have believed him if he'd said we could hunt foxes. But when we got to the bottom of the hill Hazel was completely finished and he couldn't go any further. He and Fiver have taken shelter in the overgrown ditch and I came on to tell you. And here I am."
There was silence while Bigwig and Holly took in the news. At last Bigwig said, "Will they stay there tonight?"
"I think so," replied Blackberry. "I'm sure Hazel won't be able to manage the hill until he's a good deal stronger."
"I'll go down there," said Bigwig. "I can help to make the ditch a bit more comfortable, and probably Fiver will be able to do with someone else to help to look after Hazel"
"I should hurry, then, if I were you," said Blackberry. "The sun will be down soon."
"Hah!" said Bigwig, "If I meet a stoat, it'd better look out, that's all. I'll bring you one back tomorrow, shall I?" He raced off and disappeared over the edge.
"Let's go and get the others together," said Holly. "Come on, Blackberry, you'll have to tell the whole thing, from the beginning."
The three quarters of a mile in the blazing heat, from Nuthanger to the foot of the hill, had cost Hazel more pain and effort than anything in his life. If Fiver had not found him, he would have died in the drain. When Fiver's urging had penetrated his dark, ebbing stupor, he had at first actually tried not to respond. It was so much easier to remain where he was, on the far side of the suffering he had undergone. Later, when he found himself lying in the green gloom of the ditch, with Fiver searching his wounds and assuring him that he could stand and move, still he could not face the idea of setting out to return. His torn side throbbed and the pain in his leg seemed to have affected his senses. He felt dizzy and could not hear or smell properly. At last, when he understood that Fiver and Blackberry had risked a second journey to the farm, in the broadest of daylight, solely to find him and save his life, he forced himself to his feet and began to stumble down the slope to the road. His sight was swimming and he had to stop again and again. Without Fiver's encouragement he would have lain down once more and given up. In the road, he could not climb the bank and had to limp along the verge until he could crawl under a gate. Much later, as they came under the pylon line, he remembered the overgrown ditch at the foot of the hill and set himself to reach it. Once there, he lay down and at once returned to the sleep of total exhaustion.
When Bigwig arrived, just before dark, he found Fiver snatching a quick feed in the long grass. It was out of the question to disturb Hazel by digging, and they spent the night crouched beside him on the narrow floor.
Coming out in the gray light before dawn, the first creature Bigwig saw was Kehaar, foraging between the elders. He stamped to attract his attention and Kehaar sailed across to him with one beat of his wings and a long glide.
"Meester Pigvig, you find Meester 'Azel?"
"Yes," said Bigwig, "he's in the ditch here."
" 'E not dead?"
"No, but he's wounded and very weak. The farm man shot him with a gun, you know."
"You get black stones out?"
"How do you mean?"
"Alvays vid gun ees coming liddle black stones. You never see?"
"No, I don't know about guns."
"Take out black stones, 'e get better. 'E come now, ya?"
"I'll see," said Bigwig. He went down to Hazel and found him awake and talking to Fiver. When Bigwig told him that Kehaar was outside he dragged himself up the short run and into the grass.
"Dis damn gun," said Kehaar. "'E put liddle stones for 'urt you. I look, ya?"
"I suppose you'd better," said Hazel. "My leg's still very bad, I'm afraid."
He lay down and Kehaar's head flicked from side to side as though he were looking for snails in Hazel's brown fur. He peered closely up the length of the torn flank.
"Ees not stones 'ere," he said. "Go in, go out-no stop. Now I see you leg. Maybe 'urt you, not long."
Two shotgun pellets were buried in the muscle of the haunch. Kehaar detected them by smell and removed them exactly as he might have picked spiders out of a crack. Hazel had barely time to flinch before Bigwig was sniffing at the pellets in the grass.
"Now ees more bleed," said Kehaar. "You stay, vait maybe vun, two day. Den goot like before. Dose rabbits up dere, all vait, vait for Meester 'Azel. I tell dem 'e come." He flew off before they could reply.
As things turned out, Hazel stayed three days at the foot of the hill. The hot weather continued and for much of the time he sat under the elder branches, dozing above ground like some solitary hlessi and feeling his strength returning. Fiver stayed with him, keeping the wounds clean and watching his recovery. Often they would say nothing for hours together, lying in the rough, warm grass while the shadows moved to evening, until at last the local blackbird cocked its tail and tuck-tucked away to roost. Neither spoke of Nuthanger Farm, but Hazel showed plainly enough that for the future Fiver, when he gave advice, would have no hard task to get him to accept it.
"Hrairoo," said Hazel one evening, "what would we have done without you? We'd none of us be here, would we?"
"You're sure we are here, then?" asked Fiver.
"That's too mysterious for me," replied Hazel. "What do you mean?"
"Well, there's another place-another country, isn't there? We go there when we sleep; at other times, too; and when we die. El-ahrairah comes and goes between the two as he wants, I suppose, but I could never quite make that out, from the tales. Some rabbits will tell you it's all easy there, compared with the waking dangers that they understand. But I think that only shows they don't know much about it. It's a wild place, and very unsafe. And where are we really-there or here?"
"Our bodies stay here-that's good enough for me. You'd better go and talk to that Silverweed fellow-he might know more."
"Oh, you remember him? I felt that when we were listening to him, you know. He terrified me and yet I knew that I understood him better than anyone else in that place. He knew where he belonged, and it wasn't here. Poor fellow, I'm sure he's dead. They'd got him, all right-the ones in that country. They don't give their secrets away for nothing, you know. But look! Here come Holly and Blackberry, so we'd better feel sure we're here just for the moment, anyway."
Holly had already come down the hill on the previous day to see Hazel and tell again the story of his escape from Efrafa. When he had spoken of his deliverance by the great apparition in the night, Fiver had listened attentively and asked one question, "Did it make a noise?" Later, when Holly had gone back, he told Hazel that he felt sure there was some natural explanation, though he had no idea what it could be. Hazel, however, had not been greatly interested. For him, the important thing was their disappointment and the reason for it. Holly had achieved nothing and this was entirely due to the unexpected unfriendliness of the Efrafan rabbits. T
his evening, as soon as they had begun to feed, Hazel returned to the matter.
"Holly," he said, "we're hardly any nearer to solving our problem, are we? You've done wonders and got nothing to show for it, and the Nuthanger raid was only a silly lark, I'm afraid-and an expensive one for me, at that. The real hole has still got to be dug."
"Well," said Holly, "you say it was only a lark, Hazel, but at least it gave us two does: and they're the only two we've got."
"Are they any good?"
The kind of ideas that have become natural to many male human beings in thinking of females-ideas of protection, fidelity, romantic love and so on-are, of course, unknown to rabbits, although rabbits certainly do form exclusive attachments much more frequently than most people realize. However, they are not romantic and it came naturally to Hazel and Holly to consider the two Nuthanger does simply as breeding stock for the warren. This was what they had risked their lives for.
"Well, it's hard to say, yet," replied Holly. "They're doing their best to settle down with us-Clover particularly. She seems very sensible. But they're extraordinarily helpless, you know-I've never seen anything like it-and I'm afraid they may turn out to be delicate in bad weather. They might survive next winter and then again they might not. But you weren't to know that when you got them out of the farm."
"With a bit of luck, they might each have a litter before the winter," said Hazel. "I know the breeding season's over, but everything's so topsy-turvy with us here that there's no saying."
"Well, you ask me what I think," said Holly. "I'll tell you. I think they're precious little to be the only thing between us and the end of everything we've managed to do so far. I think they may very well not have any kittens for some time, partly because this isn't the season and partly because the life's so strange to them. And when they do, the kittens will very likely have a lot of this man-bred hutch stock in them. But what else is there to hope for? We must do the best we can with what we've got."
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