Watership Down Part 5

"My name is Cowslip," said the other. "I don't want anything. I hear you've come a long way."

"Perhaps we have," said Bigwig. "We know how to defend ourselves, too."

"I'm sure you do," said Cowslip, looking round at the mud-stained, bedraggled rabbits with an air of being too polite to comment. "But it can be hard to defend oneself against the weather. There's going to be rain and I don't think your sc.r.a.pes are finished." He looked at Bigwig, as though waiting for him to ask another question. Bigwig seemed confused. Clearly, he could make no more of the situation than Hazel. There was silence except for the sound of the rising wind. Above them, the branches of the oak tree were beginning to creak and sway. Suddenly, Fiver came forward.

"We don't understand you," he said. "It's best to say so and try to get things clear. Can we trust you? Are there many other rabbits here? Those are the things we want to know."

Cowslip showed no more concern at Fiver's tense manner than he had at anything that had gone before. He drew a forepaw down the back of one ear and then replied, "I think you're puzzling yourselves unnecessarily. But if you want the answers to your questions, then I'd say yes, you can trust us: we don't want to drive you away. And there is a warren here, but not as big a one as we should like. Why should we want to hurt you? There's plenty of gra.s.s, surely?"

In spite of his strange, clouded manner, he spoke so reasonably that Hazel felt rather ashamed.

"We've been through a lot of danger," he said. "Everything new seems like danger to us. After all, you might be afraid that we were coming to take your does or turn you out of your holes."

Cowslip listened gravely. Then he answered, "Well, as to holes, that was something I thought I might mention. These sc.r.a.pes aren't very deep or comfortable, are they? And although they're facing out of the wind now, you ought to know that this isn't the usual wind we get here. It's blowing up this rain from the south. We usually have a west wind and it'll go straight into these holes. There are plenty of empty burrows in our warren and if you want to come across you'll be welcome. And now if you'll excuse me, I won't stay any longer. I hate the rain. The warren is round the corner of the wood opposite."

He ran down the slope and over the brook. They watched him leap the bank of the further copse and disappear through the green bracken. The first scatters of rain were beginning to fall, pattering into the oak leaves and p.r.i.c.king the bare pink skin inside their ears.

"Fine, big fellow, isn't he?" said Buckthorn. "He doesn't look as though he had much to bother about, living here."

"What should we do, Hazel, do you think?" asked Silver. "It's true what he said, isn't it? These sc.r.a.pes--well, we can crouch in them out of the weather, but no more than that. And as we can't all get into one, we shall have to split up."

"We'll join them together," said Hazel, "and while we're doing that I'd like to talk about what he said. Fiver, Bigwig and Blackberry, can you come with me? The rest of you split how you like."

The new hole was short, narrow and rough. There was no room for two rabbits to pa.s.s. Four were like beans in a pod. For the first time, Hazel began to realize how much they had left behind. The holes and tunnels of an old warren become smooth, rea.s.suring and comfortable with use. There are no snags or rough corners. Every length smells of rabbit--of that great, indestructible flood of Rabbitry in which each one is carried along, sure-footed and safe. The heavy work has all been done by countless great-grandmothers and their mates. All the faults have been put right and everything in use is of proved value. The rain drains easily and even the wind of midwinter cannot penetrate the deeper burrows. Not one of Hazel's rabbits had ever played any part in real digging. The work they had done that morning was trifling and all they had to show for it was rough shelter and little comfort.

There is nothing like bad weather to reveal the shortcomings of a dwelling, particularly if it is too small. You are, as they say, stuck with it and have leisure to feel all its peculiar irritations and discomforts. Bigwig, with his usual brisk energy, set to work. Hazel, however, returned and sat pensive at the lip of the hole, looking out at the silent, rippling veils of rain that drifted across and across the little valley between the two copses. Closer, before his nose, every blade of gra.s.s, every bracken frond was bent, dripping and glistening. The smell of last year's oak leaves filled the air. It had turned chilly. Across the field the bloom of the cherry tree under which they had sat that morning hung sodden and spoiled. While Hazel gazed, the wind slowly veered round into the west, as Cowslip had said it would, and brought the rain driving into the mouth of the hole. He backed down and rejoined the others. The pattering and whispering of the rain sounded softly but distinctly outside. The fields and woods were shut in under it, emptied and subdued. The insect life of the leaves and gra.s.s was stilled. The thrush should have been singing, but Hazel could hear no thrush. He and his companions were a muddy handful of scratchers, crouching in a narrow, drafty pit in lonely country. They were not out of the weather. They were waiting, uncomfortably, for the weather to change.

"Blackberry," said Hazel, "what did you think of our visitor and how would you like to go to his warren?"

"Well," replied Blackberry, "what I think is this. There's no way of finding out whether he's to be trusted except to try it. He seemed friendly. But then, if a lot of rabbits were afraid of some newcomers and wanted to deceive them--get them down a hole and attack them--they'd start--wouldn't they?--by sending someone who was plausible. They might want to kill us. But then again, as he said, there's plenty of gra.s.s and as for turning them out or taking their does, if they're all up to his size and weight they've nothing to fear from a crowd like us. They must have seen us come. We were tired. Surely that was the time to attack us? Or while we were separated, before we began digging? But they didn't. I reckon they're more likely to be friendly than otherwise. There's only one thing beats me. What do they stand to get from asking us to join their warren?"

"Fools attract elil by being easy prey," said Bigwig, cleaning the mud out of his whiskers and blowing through his long front teeth. "And we're we're fools until we've learned to live here. Safer to teach us, perhaps. I don't know--give it up. But I'm not afraid to go and find out. If they fools until we've learned to live here. Safer to teach us, perhaps. I don't know--give it up. But I'm not afraid to go and find out. If they do do try any tricks, they'll find I know a few as well. I wouldn't mind taking a chance, to sleep somewhere more comfortable than this. We haven't slept since yesterday afternoon." try any tricks, they'll find I know a few as well. I wouldn't mind taking a chance, to sleep somewhere more comfortable than this. We haven't slept since yesterday afternoon."

"Fiver?"

"I think we ought to have nothing to do with that rabbit or his warren. We ought to leave this place at once. But what's the good of talking?"

Cold and damp, Hazel felt impatient. He had always been accustomed to rely on Fiver and now, when he really needed him, he was letting them down. Blackberry's reasoning had been first-rate and Bigwig had at least shown which way any sound-hearted rabbit would be likely to lean. Apparently the only contribution Fiver could make was this beetle-spirited vaporing. He tried to remember that Fiver was undersized and that they had had an anxious time and were all weary. At this moment the soil at the far end of the burrow began to crumble inward: then it fell away and Silver's head and front paws appeared.

"Here we are," said Silver cheerfully. "We've done what you wanted, Hazel: and Buckthorn's through next door. But what I'd like to know is, how about What's-His-Name? Cowpat--no--Cowslip? Are we going to his warren or not? Surely we're not going to sit cowering in this place because we're frightened to go and see him. Whatever will he think of us?"

"I'll tell you," said Dandelion, from over his shoulder. "If he's not honest, he'll know we're afraid to come: and if he is is, he'll think we're suspicious, cowardly skulkers. If we're going to live in these fields, we'll have to get on terms with his lot sooner or later, and it goes against the grain to hang about and admit we daren't visit them."

"I don't know how many of them there are," said Silver, "but we're we're quite a crowd. Anyhow, I hate the idea of just keeping away. How long have rabbits been elil? Old Cowslip wasn't afraid to come into the middle of us, was he?" quite a crowd. Anyhow, I hate the idea of just keeping away. How long have rabbits been elil? Old Cowslip wasn't afraid to come into the middle of us, was he?"

"Very well," said Hazel. "That's how I feel myself. I just wanted to know whether you did. Would you like Bigwig and me to go over there first, by ourselves, and report back?"

"No," said Silver. "Let's all go. If we're going at all, for Frith's sake let's do it as though we weren't afraid. What do you say, Dandelion?"

"I think you're right."

"Then we'll go now," said Hazel. "Get the others and follow me."

Outside, in the thickening light of the late afternoon, with the rain trickling into his eyes and under his scut, he watched them as they joined him. Blackberry, alert and intelligent, looking first up and then down the ditch before he crossed it. Bigwig, cheerful at the prospect of action. The steady, reliable Silver. Dandelion, the dashing storyteller, so eager to be off that he jumped the ditch and ran a little way into the field before stopping to wait for the rest. Buckthorn, perhaps the most sensible and staunch of them all. Pipkin, who looked round for Hazel and then came over to wait beside him. Acorn, Hawkbit and Speedwell, decent enough rank-and-filers as long as they were not pushed beyond their limits. Last of all came Fiver, dejected and reluctant as a sparrow in the frost. As Hazel turned from the hole, the clouds in the west broke slightly and there was a sudden dazzle of watery, pale gold light.

"O El-ahrairah!" thought Hazel. "These are rabbits we're going to meet. You know them as well as you know us. Let it be the right thing that I'm doing."

"Now, brace up, Fiver!" he said aloud. "We're waiting for you, and getting wetter every moment."

A soaking b.u.mblebee crawled over a thistle bloom, vibrated its wings for a few seconds and then flew away down the field. Hazel followed, leaving a dark track behind him over the silvered gra.s.s.

13. Hospitality

In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon.

All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.

Tennyson, The Lotus-Eaters The Lotus-Eaters The corner of the opposite wood turned out to be an acute point. Beyond it, the ditch and trees curved back again in a re-entrant, so that the field formed a bay with a bank running all the way round. It was evident now why Cowslip, when he left them, had gone among the trees. He had simply run in a direct line from their holes to his own, pa.s.sing on his way through the narrow strip of woodland that lay between. Indeed, as Hazel turned the point and stopped to look about him, he could see the place where Cowslip must have come out. A clear rabbit track led from the bracken, under the fence and into the field. In the bank on the further side of the bay the rabbit holes were plain to see, showing dark and distinct in the bare ground. It was as conspicuous a warren as could well be imagined.

"Sky above us!" said Bigwig. "Every living creature for miles must know that's there! Look at all the tracks in the gra.s.s, too! Do you think they sing in the morning, like the thrushes?"

"Perhaps they're too secure to bother about concealing themselves," said Blackberry. "After all, the home warren was fairly plain to be seen."

"Yes, but not like that! A couple of hrududil could go down some of those holes."

"So could I," said Dandelion. "I'm getting dreadfully wet."

As they approached, a big rabbit appeared over the edge of the ditch, looked at them quickly and vanished into the bank. A few moments later two others came out and waited for them. They, too, were sleek and unusually large.

"A rabbit called Cowslip offered us shelter here," said Hazel. "Perhaps you know that he came to see us?"

Both rabbits together made a curious, dancing movement of the head and front paws. Apart from sniffing, as Hazel and Cowslip had done when they met, formal gestures--except between mating rabbits--were unknown to Hazel and his companions. They felt mystified and slightly ill at ease. The dancers paused, evidently waiting for some acknowledgment or reciprocal gesture, but there was none.

"Cowslip is in the great burrow," said one of them at length. "Would you like to follow us there?"

"How many of us?" asked Hazel.

"Why, all of you," answered the other, surprised. "You don't want to stay out in the rain, do you?"

Hazel had supposed that he and one or two of his comrades would be taken to see the Chief Rabbit--who would probably not be Cowslip, since Cowslip had come to see them unattended--in his burrow, after which they would all be given different places to go to. It was this separation of which he had been afraid. He now realized with astonishment that there was apparently a part of the warren underground which was big enough to contain them all together. He felt so curious to visit it that he did not stop to make any detailed arrangements about the order in which they should go down. However, he put Pipkin immediately behind him. "It'll warm his little heart for once," he thought, "and if the leaders do do get attacked, I suppose we can spare him easier than some." Bigwig he asked to bring up the rear. "If there's any trouble, get out of it," he said, "and take as many as you can with you." Then he followed their guides into one of the holes in the bank. get attacked, I suppose we can spare him easier than some." Bigwig he asked to bring up the rear. "If there's any trouble, get out of it," he said, "and take as many as you can with you." Then he followed their guides into one of the holes in the bank.

The run was broad, smooth and dry. It was obviously a highway, for other runs branched off it in all directions. The rabbits in front went fast and Hazel had little time to sniff about as he followed. Suddenly he checked. He had come into an open place. His whiskers could feel no earth in front and none was near his sides. There was a good deal of air ahead of him--he could feel it moving--and there was a considerable s.p.a.ce above his head. Also, there were several rabbits near him. It had not occurred to him that there would be a place underground where he would be exposed on three sides. He backed quickly and felt Pipkin at his tail. "What a fool I was!" he thought. "Why didn't I put Silver there?" At this moment he heard Cowslip speaking. He jumped, for he could tell that he was some way away. The size of the place must be immense.

"Is that you, Hazel?" said Cowslip. "You're welcome, and so are your friends. We're glad you've come."

No human beings, except the courageous and experienced blind, are able to sense much in a strange place where they cannot see, but with rabbits it is otherwise. They spend half their lives underground in darkness or near-darkness, and touch, smell and hearing convey as much or more to them than sight. Hazel now had the clearest knowledge of where he was. He would have recognized the place if he had left at once and come back six months later. He was at one end of the largest burrow he had ever been in; sandy, warm and dry, with a hard, bare floor. There were several tree roots running across the roof and it was these that supported the unusual span. There was a great number of rabbits in the place--many more than he was bringing. All had the same rich, opulent smell as Cowslip.

Cowslip himself was at the other end of the hall and Hazel realized that he was waiting for him to reply. His own companions were still coming out of the entrance burrow one by one and there was a good deal of scrabbling and shuffling. He wondered if he ought to be very formal. Whether or not he could call himself a Chief Rabbit, he had had no experience of this sort of thing. The Threarah would no doubt have risen to the occasion perfectly. He did not want to appear at a loss or to let his followers down. He decided that it would be best to be plain and friendly. After all, there would be plenty of time, as they settled down in the warren, to show these strangers that they were as good as themselves, without risking trouble by putting on airs at the start.

"We're glad to be out of the bad weather," he said. "We're like all rabbits--happiest in a crowd. When you came over to see us in the field, Cowslip, you said your warren wasn't large, but judging by the holes we saw along the bank, it must be what we'd reckon a fine, big one."

As he finished he sensed that Bigwig had just entered the hall, and knew that they were all together again. The stranger rabbits seemed slightly disconcerted by his little speech and he felt that for some reason or other he had not struck the right note in complimenting them on their numbers. Perhaps there were not very many of them after all? Had there been disease? There was no smell or sign of it. These were the biggest and healthiest rabbits he had ever met. Perhaps their fidgeting and silence had nothing to do with what he had said? Perhaps it was simply that he had not spoken very well, being new to it, and they felt that he was not up to their fine ways? "Never mind," he thought. "After last night I'm sure of my own lot. We wouldn't be here at all if we weren't handy in a pinch. These other fellows will just have to get to know us. They don't seem to dislike us, anyway."

There were no more speeches. Rabbits have their own conventions and formalities, but these are few and short by human standards. If Hazel had been a human being he would have been expected to introduce his companions one by one and no doubt each would have been taken in charge as a guest by one of their hosts. In the great burrow, however, things happened differently. The rabbits mingled naturally. They did not talk for talking's sake, in the artificial manner that human beings--and sometimes even their dogs and cats--do. But this did not mean that they were not communicating; merely that they were not communicating by talking. All over the burrow, both the newcomers and those who were at home were accustoming themselves to each other in their own way and their own time; getting to know what the strangers smelled like, how they moved, how they breathed, how they scratched, the feel of their rhythms and pulses. These were their topics and subjects of discussion, carried on without the need of speech. To a greater extent than a human in a similar gathering, each rabbit, as he pursued his own fragment, was sensitive to the trend of the whole. After a time, all knew that the concourse was not going to turn sour or break up in a fight. Just as a battle begins in a state of equilibrium between the two sides, which gradually alters one way or the other until it is clear that the balance has tilted so far that the issue can no longer be in doubt--so this gathering of rabbits in the dark, beginning with hesitant approaches, silences, pauses, movements, crouchings side by side and all manner of tentative appraisals, slowly moved, like a hemisphere of the world into summer, to a warmer, brighter region of mutual liking and approval, until all felt sure that they had nothing to fear. Pipkin, some way away from Hazel, crouched at his ease between two huge rabbits who could have broken his back in a second, while Buckthorn and Cowslip started a playful scuffle, nipping each other like kittens and then breaking off to comb their ears in a comical pretense of sudden gravity. Only Fiver sat alone and apart. He seemed either ill or very much depressed, and the strangers avoided him instinctively.

The knowledge that the gathering was safely round the corner came to Hazel in the form of a recollection of Silver's head and paws breaking through gravel. At once, he felt warm and relaxed. He had already crossed the whole length of the hall and was pressed close to two rabbits, a buck and a doe, each of whom was fully as large as Cowslip. When both together took a few slow hops down one of the runs nearby, Hazel followed and little by little they all three moved out of the hall. They came to a smaller burrow, deeper underground. Evidently this belonged to the couple, for they settled down as though at home and made no objection when Hazel did the same. Here, while the mood of the great hall slowly pa.s.sed from them, all three were silent for a time.

"Is Cowslip the Chief Rabbit?" asked Hazel at length.

The other replied with a question. "Are you called Chief Rabbit?"

Hazel found this awkward to answer. If he replied that he was, his new friends might address him so for the future, and he could imagine what Bigwig and Silver would have to say about that. As usual, he fell back on plain honesty.

"We're only a few," he said. "We left our warren in a hurry to escape from bad things. Most stayed behind and the Chief Rabbit was one of them. I've been trying to lead my friends, but I don't know whether they'd care to hear me called Chief Rabbit."

"That'll make him ask a few questions," he thought. " 'Why did you leave? Why didn't the rest come? What were you afraid of?' And whatever am I going to say?"

When the other rabbit spoke, however, it was clear that either he had no interest in what Hazel had said, or else he had some other reason for not questioning him.

"We don't call anyone Chief Rabbit," he said. "It was Cowslip's idea to go and see you this afternoon, so he was the one who went."

"But who decides what to do about elil? And digging and sending out scouting parties and so on?"

"Oh, we never do anything like that that. Elil keep away from here. There was a homba last winter, but the man who comes through the fields, he shot it with his gun."

Hazel stared. "But men won't shoot a homba."

"Well, he he killed killed this this one, anyway. He kills owls too. We never need to dig. No one's dug in my lifetime. A lot of the burrows are lying empty, you know: rats, live in one part, but the man kills them as well, when he can. We don't need expeditions. There's better food here than anywhere else. Your friends will be happy living here." one, anyway. He kills owls too. We never need to dig. No one's dug in my lifetime. A lot of the burrows are lying empty, you know: rats, live in one part, but the man kills them as well, when he can. We don't need expeditions. There's better food here than anywhere else. Your friends will be happy living here."

But he himself did not sound particularly happy and once again Hazel felt oddly perplexed. "Where does the man--" he began. But he was interrupted.

"I'm called Strawberry. This is my doe, Nildro-hain.* Some of the best empty burrows are quite close. I'll show you, in case your friends want to settle into them. The great burrow is a splendid place, don't you think? I'm sure there can't be many warrens where all the rabbits can meet together underground. The roofs all tree roots, you know, and of course the tree outside keeps the rain from coming through. It's a wonder the tree's alive, but it is."

Hazel suspected that Strawberry's talking had the real purpose of preventing his own questions. He was partly irritated and partly mystified.

"Never mind," he thought. "If we all get as big as these chaps, we shall do pretty well. There must be some good food round here somewhere. His doe's a beautiful creature, too. Perhaps there are some more like her in the warren."

Strawberry moved out of the burrow and Hazel followed him into another run, leading deeper down below the wood. It was certainly a warren to admire. Sometimes, when they crossed a run that led upward to a hole, he could hear the rain outside, still falling in the night. But although it had now been raining for several hours, there was not the least damp or cold either in the deep runs or in the many burrows that they pa.s.sed. Both the drainage and the ventilation were better than he had been accustomed to. Here and there other rabbits were on the move. Once they came upon Acorn, who was evidently being taken on a tour of the same kind. "Very friendly, aren't they?" he said to Hazel as they pa.s.sed one another. "I never dreamed we'd reach a place like this. You've got wonderful judgment, Hazel." Strawberry waited politely for him to finish speaking and Hazel could not help feeling pleased that he must have heard.

At last, after skirting carefully round some openings from which there was a distinct smell of rats, they halted in a kind of pit. A steep tunnel led up into the air. Rabbit runs tend to be bow-shaped; but this was straight, so that above them, through the mouth of the hole, Hazel could see leaves against the night sky. He realized that one wall of the pit was convex and made of some hard substance. He sniffed at it uncertainly.

"Don't you know what those are?" said Strawberry. "They're bricks; the stones that men make their houses and barns out of. There used to be a well here long ago, but it's filled up now--the men don't use it any more. That's the outer side of the well shaft. And this earth wall here is completely flat because of some man thing fixed behind it in the ground, but I'm not sure what."

"There's something stuck on it," said Hazel. "Why, they're stones, pushed into the surface! But what for?"

"Do you like it?" asked Strawberry.

Hazel puzzled over the stones. They were all the same size, and pushed at regular intervals into the soil. He could make nothing of them.

"What are they for?" he asked again.

"It's El-ahrairah," said Strawberry. "A rabbit called Laburnum did it, some time ago now. We have others, but this is the best. Worth a visit, don't you think?"

Hazel was more at a loss than ever. He had never seen a laburnum and was puzzled by the name, which in Lapine is "Poison Tree." How could a rabbit be called Poison? And how could stones be El-ahrairah? What, exactly, was it that Strawberry was saying was El-ahrairah? In confusion he said, "I don't understand."

"It's what we call a Shape," explained Strawberry. "Haven't you seen one before? The stones make the shape of El-ahrairah on the wall. Stealing the King's lettuce. You You know?" know?"

Hazel had not felt so much bewildered since Blackberry had talked about the raft beside the Enborne. Obviously, the stones could not possibly be anything to do with El-ahrairah. It seemed to him that Strawberry might as well have said that his tail was an oak tree. He sniffed again and then put a paw up to the wall.

"Steady, steady," said Strawberry. "You might damage it and that wouldn't do. Never mind. We'll come again some other time."

"But where are--" Hazel was beginning, when Strawberry once more interrupted him.

"I expect you'll be hungry now. I know I am. It's going on raining all night, I'm certain of that, but we can feed underground here, you know. And then you can sleep in the great burrow, or in my place if you prefer. We can go back more quickly than we came. There's a run that goes almost straight. Actually, it pa.s.ses across--"

He chatted on relentlessly, as they made their way back. It suddenly occurred to Hazel that these desperate interruptions seemed to follow any question beginning "Where?" He thought he would put this to the proof. After a while Strawberry ended by saying, "We're nearly at the great burrow now, but we're coming in by a different way."

"And where--" said Hazel. Instantly Strawberry turned into a side run and called, "Kingcup? Are you coming down to the great burrow?" There was silence, "That's odd!" said Strawberry, returning and once more leading the way. "He's generally there about this time. I often call for him, you know."

Hazel, hanging back, made a quick search with nose and whiskers. The threshold of the burrow was covered with a day-old fall of soft soil from the roof above. Strawberry's prints had marked it plainly and there were no others whatsoever.

*Song of the Blackbird."

14. ''Like Trees in November"

Courts and camps are the only places to learn the world in. ... Take the tone of the company that you are in.

The Earl of Chesterfield, Letters to His Son Letters to His Son The great burrow was less crowded than when they had left it. Nildro-hain was the first rabbit they met. She was among a group of three or four fine does who were talking quietly together and seemed to be feeding as well. There was a smell of greenstuff. Evidently some kind of food was available underground, like the Threarah's lettuce. Hazel stopped to speak to Nildro-hain. She asked whether he had gone as far as the well pit and the El-ahrairah of Laburnum.

"Yes, we did," said Hazel. "It's something quite strange to me, I'm afraid. But I'd rather admire you and your friends than stones on a wall."

As he said this, he noticed that Cowslip had joined them and that Strawberry was talking to him quietly. He caught the words "never been near a Shape" and a moment later Cowslip replied, "Well, it makes no difference from our point of view."

Hazel suddenly felt tired and depressed. He heard Blackberry behind Cowslip's sleek, heavy shoulder and went across to him.

"Come out into the gra.s.s," he said quietly. "Bring anyone else who'll come."