"Those ... those ... sights ... those things ... the rabbit and the boy--they melted, even as the men spoke. They vanished, like frost on the grass when you breathe on it. And the men--they noticed nothing strange. I believe now that they saw the boy and spoke to him as part of a kind of dream, and that as he and his poor victim vanished, they remembered nothing of it. Well, be that as it may, they'd evidently come there because they'd heard the rabbit squeal, and you could see why at once.
"One of them was carrying the body of a rabbit dead of the White Blindness. I saw its poor eyes and I could see, too, that the body was still warm. I don't know whether you know how men go about this dirty work, but what they do is to put the still-warm body of a dead rabbit down a hole in a warren before the fleas have left the ears. Then, as the body turns cold, the fleas go to other rabbits, who catch the White Blindness from them. There's nothing you can do but run away--and that only if you realize in time what the danger is.
"The men stood looking round them and pointing at the deserted holes. Neither of them was the farmer--we all knew what he looked like. He must have asked them to come and bring the body of the rabbit and then been too lazy to go out with them; just told them where to go, and they weren't too sure about the exact place. You could see that from the way they looked about. "After a little, one of them trod out his white stick and started burning another, and then they went over to a hole and pushed the body right down it with a long pole. After that, they went away.
"We went away too--I can't remember how. Fescue was as good as mad: when we got back to Nutley Copse he just lay tharn in the first burrow he found and wouldn't come out next day or the day after. I don't know what happened to him in the end--I never saw him after that. Stitchwort and I managed to get hold of a burrow of our own later that summer, and we shared it for a long time. We never spoke of what we'd seen, even when we were alone together. Stitchwort was killed later, when the Efrafans attacked the warren.
"I know you all think I'm unfriendly. Perhaps you've been thinking I don't like anyone here--that I'm against you. It isn't that--now you know it isn't. Oh, what haunts me always is that I keep thinking ... does that wretched rabbit have to go through it all again and again and again, forever? The stone--the pain ... and might we too--"
The big, burly Coltsfoot lay sobbing like a kitten. Pipkin, too, was crying, and Hazel could feel Blackberry trembling against his side in the dark of the Honeycomb. Then Fiver spoke, with a quiet assurance that cut through the horror in the burrow like the calling of a plover across bare fields at night.
"No, Coltsfoot. That's not the way of it. It's true enough that there are many terrible and dangerous things in that land beyond, where you went with your friends that night; but in the end, however far away it may seem, Frith keeps his promise to El-ahrairah. I know this, and you can believe it. Those weren't real creatures that you saw. Only, in places where bad things have happened, sometimes a kind of strange force lingers on, like lonely pools of water after a storm; and now and then some of us fall into those pools. What you saw wasn't real--you said so yourself. It was an echo you heard, not a voice. And remember, it saved your warren that evening. Where else might that body have been put otherwise--and who can understand all that Frith knows and brings to pass?"
He was silent and, although Coltsfoot made no answer, himself said no more. Evidently he felt that Coltsfoot must take it from there on his own, without repetition or argument to convince him. After a little, the others dispersed to their sleeping burrows, leaving Coltsfoot and Fiver alone.
Coltsfoot did take it. For several days afterward, he was to be seen at silflay with Fiver, quietly browsing over the grass, talking and listening to his new friend.
As the bitter winter passed, his spirits gradually lightened, and by the following spring he had become quite a talkative and cheerful rabbit, not infrequently to be found telling stories to kittens under the bank.
"Fiver," said Bluebell one evening in early April, when the scent of the first violets was drifting under the new beech leaves, "do you think you could order a nice, gentle, unfrightening sort of ghost for me? Only I've been thinking--they seem almost to do quite a bit of good in the long run."
"The very long run," answered Fiver, "for those who can run without stopping."
7
Speedwell's Story
It is a far, far better thing to have a firm anchor in nonsense
than to put out on the troubled seas of thought.
J. K. GALBRAITH, The Affluent Society
"Oh, you're always asking me for a story," said Dandelion, one evening in the Honeycomb when everyone had crowded in out of the April rain. "Why don't you ask someone else to tell a story? What about Speedwell there? He tells almost as many jokes as Bluebell, but I've never heard him tell a story yet. I'm sure all those jokes ought to add up to a story, that's if they're laid end to end properly. How about it, Speedwell?"
"Yes, yes," they all chorused. "Speedwell, tell us a story!"
"Well, all right," said Speedwell, as soon as he could make himself heard. "I will tell you a story, about an adventure I had last summer. But while I'm telling it, I don't want any rabbits interrupting or asking questions. The first rabbit who interrupts goes out into the rain. Is that agreed?"
They all agreed, chiefly out of curiosity to learn what Speedwell was going to tell them, and when everyone had settled down comfortably, he began.
"It was one day toward the end of last summer, when the weather was terribly hot and dry, that I decided to go and get my fur cooled. I've always thought it's a great pity that rabbits can't take their fur off in hot weather, but at least it's a relief to go to the Cooler's."
Hawkbit was spluttering on the edge of a question. Speedwell stopped, and Hawkbit hurriedly swallowed what he had been going to say. Speedwell resumed.
"Well, so I set off down the hill to the field where the Iron Tree grows. But when I got there, I found that someone had planted butterflies--blue ones--all over it, and I couldn't get it to do what I wanted. So I just lined up all the biggest butterflies I could see and told them to fly with me across to the farm.
"When we reached the farm, before we even came down, what should I see but a fox sitting up in the farmyard, eating the lettuces? I told the butterflies to attack it, but they were afraid to, so I just jumped down and went to find a bucket to put the fox in. I found the bucket, all right, hung up to dry on the clothesline, but some starlings had been using it for a nest, and I had to take it with all the nestlings in it, squeaking for food. I told them there was a nice, fresh fox all ready for them, but when they jumped out, they frightened the fox so much that it ran away, with all the nestlings chasing after it. I let them go and kept the bucket for myself.
"Well, I was playing with the bucket, rolling it backward and forward across the yard, when suddenly a badger looked out of it and asked what I thought I was doing, waking him up. I told him he couldn't have been there long, because I'd only just seen it empty myself, but he only said, 'Ho, we'll see about that!' and got out and began chasing me. Well, there was only one thing for it. I took off my head and sent it rolling away, down to the road, and the badger after it, gor-boom! gor-boom! Then I sat down where I was, and the farmer's little girl came out and brought me a big plateful of carrots."
At this point Bluebell said, "But--" Speedwell waited, but Bluebell turned it into a cough, and Speedwell went on.
"When I'd finished the carrots, I could hear a lot of scrabbling and stamping not far off, so I went to see what it was all about. And in the ditch I found a whole crowd of hedgehogs, all arguing which of them was the most prickly. I told them I was, and at that they all came for me, fairly bellowing with rage like a lot of sheep. I ran away as fast as I could, but all the same they'd have caught me if I hadn't suddenly come upon my head sitting in a puddle. I put it on again quick and looked really fiercely at those hedgehogs, so that they all rolled over one another trying to get away. I let them go and sat down for a rest
.
"But would you believe it? Inside two and a half breaths of fresh air, down flies Kehaar and three of his mates, all asking where were they and what had happened to Bigwig. I told them Bigwig was busy climbing a tree to get out of the heat, but at that they all came up and sat down round me, asking was I sure I was telling the truth. That made me really cross, and I said to them they could be sure I'd never told the truth in my life. I wanted to get away from them, so I lifted myself up by my ears and climbed into a lettuce tree just behind me. I hid behind the lettuces and waited until the seagulls had all flown away. Then I ate every single lettuce I could find and three that I couldn't, just to make sure.
"When I came down, feeling a lot heavier, there was a beautiful stream of clear water running along beside a bed of roses and crocuses. So I picked a crocus--a nice, yellow one--jumped into it and sat down, and there I was, floating along without a care in the world, when all of a sudden I remembered that I'd been going to have my fur cooled. It wasn't far to the Cooler's, so I rammed my crocus up against the bank, told it to wait until I got back, and ran across the field. There were two horses grazing there, a green one and a sky-blue one, so I asked the green one to be so kind as to let me ride him as far as the Cooler's, and the sky-blue one said he'd be delighted, so off we went together."
At this moment Hawkbit was seized with a fit of coughing, through which could be heard occasional words--"nonsense"--"whoever"--"sky-blue horse." Speedwell waited politely until Hawkbit had finished coughing and then remarked, "Where was I? Oh, yes, of course.
"I really looked wonderful, riding on that sky-blue horse. All the blackbirds and pinkbirds for miles around came to look at us. We got to the Cooler's in no time, and I asked my sky-blue horse to wait outside.
"It was splendid at the Cooler's, and I soon felt a whole lot better. As soon as I'd got all the ice out of my fur, I went outside and whatever do you think? There were that fox and that badger sitting up together, talking to each other and saying all the nastiest things they could think of about me. I just picked them up and banged their two heads together so that they rang like a cuckoo in April. Then I jumped back on my beautiful sky-blue horse and we galloped away. 'Where to, master?' asks the horse. 'Well,' I said, 'I think we ought to go and see to my yellow crocus boat in the stream, if it's not too far.' 'Not too far, master?' says my horse. 'Why, we're there!' And so we were, only we'd been going backward, you see, and so of course I hadn't noticed.
"There was my boat, safe and sound. The horse got in and then I got in, and off we went upstream and down dale. Sure enough, there was the farmer's dear little daughter waiting for us on the bank, and I took her for a ride on my sky-blue horse.
"We went to the rabbits' meeting--oh, thousands and thousands of rabbits--and when they saw us, they all said, 'Let's make him our Chief--our King--and little Lucy shall be his Queen!'
"So there we were, King and Queen of the rabbits, and Lucy was covered with flowers and I was covered with dandelion leaves! I dug a nice hole for us to sleep in together, and I told her stories until she fell asleep. My horse slept too, but then his master came looking for him, and the farmer came looking for his Lucy. He had a whole bushel of hay with him, so my horse didn't go hungry, and my dear Lucy rode him all the way home to the farm, and I promised to come and see her every time it rained. It rained honey for her and lettuce leaves for me, and we fairly lived like the King and Queen we were.
"Rabbits so clever
As blue as the sky!
Rabbits forever,
A rabbit am I!
"You take the left hand,
I'll take the right.
You be the black queen,
I'll be the white!
"And that's the end of my story," said Speedwell.
PART II
8
The Story of the Comical Field
But as the night fell, he begun [sic] to be sensible of some
creature keeping pace with him and, as he thought, peering and
looking upon him from the next Alley to that he was in.
M. R. JAMES, "Mr. Humphreys and His Inheritance"
This (said Dandelion) is one of the many stories that are told about the adventures of El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle during their long return journey from the stone burrow of the Black Rabbit of Inle.
They went slowly, for both of them were exhausted and badly shocked by their terrible experience. The weather, however, was kind. Day after day was sunny and warm. El-ahrairah used to sleep in the afternoons, while Rabscuttle kept watch for any elil who might be about. But the days were peaceful: there were no alarms or sudden escapes, and gradually El-ahrairah began to recover some of his old energy and strength. The larks sang high and the blackbirds sang low, and it seemed as though Lord Frith himself was making it easy for them to rejoin the placid natural world they thought of as their own.
One bright, clear evening, toward sunset, the two of them were lolloping gently across a hilltop, keeping an eye out, as they went, for some sheltered, safe place where they might be able to spend the night. Having come over the crest, they stopped to look at the land below and to choose their best way down.
It was exactly the kind of farming country they were used to: green fields--for it was early summer--and patches of woodland where the new leaves were glinting in the sun. Somewhere far off, a man was chugging about on a hrududu. All was as accustomed as could be--except for one curious feature, of a kind which neither of them had seen before.
Not far from a lonely-looking road stood a big house--smokeless chimneys, glassless windows and broken roofs. As any rabbit could perceive, it was in ruins and deserted, for there were no men anywhere around it. They could see the overgrown, jungly garden and the paths all covered with weeds. There were a few sheds here and there, and El-ahrairah was just thinking that one of them would make a good shelter for the night, when he noticed something else distinctly unusual.
On the nearer side of the garden, divided from it by a low wall, lay a piece of ground about the size of an ordinary meadow. It could in fact have been a meadow, except that it was all broken up into green paths, bordered by thick hedges running every which way. It lay empty in the westering sunshine, and although El-ahrairah remained looking at it for some time, he saw no sign of animals or birds.
"What do you suppose that is?" he asked Rabscuttle. "It's obviously some kind of man-thing, but I've never seen a place like it before, have you?"
"I don't know any more than you do, master," replied Rabscuttle. "It's no good to us, that's certain. We'd do best to let it alone, wouldn't we?"
"No, I'd like to have a closer look at it," replied El-ahrairah. "Let's go down that way. It can't do us any harm, and I'd like to know what on earth it's for. I can't see that it's any use at all, even to men."
They went slowly down the hillside, stopped for a bite of grass, made their way along a couple of hedgerows, and soon found themselves quite near what El-ahrairah had named "the comical field." There was no gate or any sort of entry that they could see, so El-ahrairah, more and more puzzled, led the way along one side.
"There must be a way in," he said to Rabscuttle, "or what's the good of it?"
Rabscuttle hadn't changed his first idea that they ought to let it alone, but the truth was that he was glad to see his master getting back some of his old spirits and evidently up for a bit of adventure or mischief, for he had been drained and low for many days since leaving the Black Rabbit. So he said nothing and followed obediently as El-ahrairah went along the hedge to the far end and turned the corner.
The first thing they saw when they got round the corner was a solitary rabbit feeding in a patch of short grass. His back was turned to them, and he took no notice as they made their way up to him. As soon as he became aware of them, he jumped and looked at them nervously. However, he did not run away but remained where he was, only trembling a little as El-ahrairah greeted him and wished him well. They could see now that he was old, with graying fur, peering
eyes and slow movements. In some curious way that he could not pin down, El-ahrairah found himself not much liking the look of him, but this, he thought, must be due to one of the odd, confused spells that had been coming upon him from time to time since leaving the Black Rabbit. He knew he was not altogether himself, but he had grown accustomed to paying little attention to these intermittent feelings.
The old rabbit told them that his name was Greenweed. He had lived here for a long time, he said. There were no other rabbits now, and he was quite alone. El-ahrairah asked him whether he wasn't afraid of elil, living so solitarily, but he answered that no elil ever troubled him. "I expect I'm too old and tough," he said. "I wouldn't be to their taste." El-ahrairah could not tell whether this was meant seriously or as a joke.
After sunset, when they were settling down together for the night, El-ahrairah asked Greenweed about the big, ruined house and whether he could remember a time when men had lived there.
"Indeed I can," replied Greenweed. "Once, there used to be any number of men."
"Why did they go?" asked El-ahrairah.
"That I can't tell," said he. "As I seem to recall, they went away a few at a time, until there was none left."
"And this strange place, this comical field of green paths: Do you know what it was for? What was the use of it?"
"It was of no practical use," answered Greenweed. "I've seen men go in there--wander about until they got to the middle, they used to--and then do their best to find their way out again. They did it just for sport; it was a kind of game they used to play. You ought to pay it a visit while you're here."
El-ahrairah was puzzled. "A game? That seems stupid."
"Well," said Greenweed, "that's only one of the stupid things men do to amuse themselves. If you'd lived as close to them as I have, you'd know that. But it's worth going into, all the same."
Tales From Watership Down Page 7