42. News at Sunset

You will be sure to prove that the act is unjust and hateful to the gods?

Yes, indeed, Socrates; at least, if they will listen to me.

Plato Euthyphro

As he came to the end of his story, Dandelion remembered that he was supposed to be relieving Acorn as sentry. The post was a little way away, near the eastern corner of the wood, and Hazel – who wanted to see how Boxwood and Speedwell were getting on with a hole they were digging – went with Dandelion along the foot of the bank. He was just going down the new hole when he noticed that some small creature was pattering about in the grass. It was the mouse that he had saved from the kestrel. Pleased to see that he was still safe and sound, Hazel turned back to have a word with him. The mouse recognized him and sat up, washing his face with his front paws and chattering effusively.

‘Is a good a days, a hot a days. You like? Plenty for eata, keepa warm is a no trouble. Down in a bottom a hill is a harvest. I go for a corn a but is a long a way. I tink a you go away, is a not a long a you come a back, yes?’

‘Yes,’ said Hazel, ‘A lot of us went away, but we found what we were looking for and now we’ve come back for good.’

‘Is a good. Is a lots of rabbits a now, keepa grass a short.’

‘What difference does it make to him if the grass is short?’ said Bigwig who, with Blackavar, was lolloping and nibbling close by. ‘He doesn’t eat it.’

‘Is a good a for get about, you know?’ said the mouse in a familiar tone which made Bigwig shake his ears with irritation. ‘Is a run along a queek – but is a no seeds a from a short a grass. Now is a warren a here and now a today is a new a rabbits a come, soon is another warren a more. New a rabbits is a your friends a too?’

‘Yes, yes, all friends,’ said Bigwig, turning away. ‘There was something I wanted to say, Hazel, about the new-born rabbits, when they’re ready to come above ground.’

Hazel, however, had remained where he was, looking intently at the mouse.

‘Wait a moment, Bigwig,’ he said. ‘What did you say, mouse, about another warren? Where is there going to be another warren?’

The mouse was surprised. ‘You not a know? Not a your friends?’

‘I don’t know until you tell me. What did you mean about new rabbits and another warren soon?’

His tone was urgent and inquisitive. The mouse became nervous and, after the manner of his kind, began to say what he thought the rabbits would like to hear.

‘Maybe is a no warren. Is a plenty good a rabbits ’ere, is all a my friends. Is a no more a rabbits. Not a for want other rabbits.’

‘But what other rabbits?’ persisted Hazel.

‘No sir, no sir, no other rabbits, is a not a go for soon a rabbits, all stay ’ere are my friends, a save a me a very good a my life, zen ‘ow can I if a she mek me?’ twittered the mouse.

Hazel considered this lot briefly, but it beat him.

‘Oh, come on, Hazel,’ said Bigwig. ‘Let the poor little beast alone. I want to talk to you.’

Hazel ignored him. Going close to the mouse, he bent his head and spoke quietly and firmly.

‘You’ve often said you’re our friend,’ he said.’ If you are, tell me, and don’t be afraid, what you know about other rabbits coming.’

The mouse looked confused. Then he said, ‘I not a see other rabbits, sir, but a my brother ‘e say a yellow-hammer say is a new rabbits, plenty, plenty rabbits, a come to combe over on a morning side. Maybe is a lots a rubbish. I tell you a wrong, you no like a mouse for more, not a friend a more.’

‘No, that’s all right,’ said Hazel. ‘Don’t worry. Just tell me again. Where did the bird say these new rabbits were?’

‘ ’E say is a come a justa now on a morning side. I not a see.’

‘Good fellow,’ said Hazel. ‘That’s very helpful.’ He turned back to the others. ‘What d’you make of this, Bigwig?’ he asked.

‘Not much,’ answered Bigwig. ‘Long-grass rumours. These little creatures say anything and change it five times a day. Ask him again fu Inlé – he’ll tell you something else.’

‘If you’re right, then I’m wrong and we can all forget it,’ said Hazel. ‘But I’m going to get to the bottom of this. Someone must go and see. I’d go myself, but I’ve got no speed with this leg.’

‘Well, leave it for tonight, anyway,’ said Bigwig. ‘We can –’

‘Someone must go and see,’ repeated Hazel firmly. ‘A good patroller, too. Blackavar, go and get Holly for me, will you?’

‘I’m here, as it happens,’ said Holly, who had come along the top of the bank while Hazel was speaking. ‘What’s the trouble, Hazel-rah?’

‘There’s a rumour of strangers on the down, on the morning side,’ replied Hazel, ‘and I wish I knew more. Can you and Blackavar run over that way – say as far as the top of the combe – and find out what’s going on?’

‘Yes, of course, Hazel-rah,’ said Holly. ‘If there really are some other rabbits there, we’d better bring them back with us, hadn’t we? We could do with a few more.’

‘It depends who they are,’ said Hazel. ‘That’s what I want to find out. Go at once, Holly, will you? Somehow it worries me not to know.’

Holly and Blackavar had hardly set off when Speedwell appeared above ground. He had an excited, triumphant look which attracted everyone’s attention immediately. He squatted in front of Hazel and looked round him in silence, to make sure of his effect.

‘You’ve finished the hole?’ asked Hazel.

‘Never mind the hole,’ answered Speedwell. ‘I didn’t come up to say that. Clover’s had her litter. All good, healthy kittens. Three bucks and three does, she says.’

‘You’d better go up in the beech tree and sing that,’ said Hazel. ‘See that everybody knows! But tell them not to go crowding down disturbing her.’

‘I shouldn’t think they would,’ said Bigwig. ‘Who’d be a kitten again, or even want to see one – blind and deaf and no fur?’

‘Some of the does may want to see them,’ said Hazel. ‘They’re excited, you know. But we don’t want Clover disturbed into eating them or anything miserable like that.’

‘It looks as though we really are going to live a natural life again at last, doesn’t it?’ said Bigwig, as they browsed their way along the bank. ‘What a summer it’s been! What a – what a desperate lark! I keep dreaming I’m back in Efrafa, you know; but it’ll pass off, I suppose. One thing I brought back out of that place, though, and that’s the value of keeping a warren hidden. As we get bigger, Hazel, we ought to take care of that. We’ll do better than Efrafa, though. When we’ve reached the right size, rabbits can be encouraged to leave.’

‘Well, don’t you leave,’ said Hazel, ‘or I’ll tell Kehaar to bring you back by the scruff of the neck. I’m relying on you to produce us a really good Owsla.’

‘It’s certainly something to look forward to,’ said Bigwig. ‘Take a pack of young fellows across to the farm and chase the cats out of the barn to get an appetite. Well, it’ll come. I say, this grass is as dry as horse-hair on barbed wire, isn’t it? What about a run down the hill to the fields – just you and I and Fiver? Corn’s been cut, you know, and there should be good pickings. I expect they’re going to burn off the field, but they haven’t done it yet.’

‘No, we must wait a bit,’ said Hazel.’ I want to hear what Holly and Blackavar have to say when they come in.’

‘That needn’t keep you long,’ replied Bigwig. ‘Here they come already, unless I’m much mistaken. Straight down the open track, too! Not bothered about keeping hidden, are they? What a rate they’re going!’

‘There’s something wrong,’ said Hazel, staring at the approaching rabbits.

Holly and Blackavar reached the long shadow of the wood at top speed, as though they were being pursued. The watchers expected them to slow down as they came to the bank, but they kept straight on and appeared actually to be going to run underground. At the last moment Holly stopped, looked about him and stamped twice. Blackavar disappeared down the nearest hole. At the stamping, all the rabbits above ground ran for cover.

‘Here, wait a minute,’ said Hazel, pushing past Pipkin and Hawkbit as they came across the grass. ‘Holly, what’s the alarm? Tell us something, instead of stamping the place to pieces. What’s happened?’

‘Get the holes filled in!’ gasped Holly. ‘Get everyone underground! There’s not a moment to lose.’ His eyes rolled white and he panted foam over his chin.

‘Is it men, or what? There’s nothing to be seen, heard or smelt. Come on, tell us something and stop gibbering, there’s a good chap.’

‘It’ll have to be quick, then,’ said Holly. ‘That combe – it’s full of rabbits from Efrafa.’

‘From Efrafa? Fugitives, do you mean?’

‘No,’ said Holly, ‘not fugitives. Campion’s there. We ran right into him and three or four more that Blackavar recognized. I believe Woundwort’s there himself. They’ve come for us – don’t make any mistake about that.’

‘You’re sure it’s more than a patrol?’

‘I’m certain,’ answered Holly. ‘We could smell them: and we heard them, too – below us in the combe. We wondered what so many rabbits could be doing there and we were going down to see when we suddenly came face to face with Campion. We looked at him and he looked at us and then I realized what it must mean and we turned and ran. He didn’t follow us – probably because he’d had no orders. But how long will it take them to get here?’

Blackavar had returned from underground, bringing Silver and Blackberry.

‘We ought to leave at once, sir,’ he said to Hazel. ‘We might be able to get quite a long way before they come.’

Hazel looked about him. ‘Anyone who wants to go can go,’ he said. ‘I shan’t. We made this warren ourselves and Frith only knows what we’ve been through on account of it. I’m not going to leave it now.’

‘Neither am I,’ said Bigwig. ‘If I’m for the Black Rabbit there’s one or two from Efrafa will come with me.’

There was a short silence.

‘Holly’s right to want to stop the holes,’ went on Hazel. ‘It’s the best thing to do. We fill the holes in, good and thorough. Then they have to dig us out. The warren’s deep. It’s under a bank, with tree roots all through it and over the top. How long can all those rabbits stay on the down without attracting elil? They’ll have to give it up.’

‘You don’t know these Efrafans,’ said Blackavar. ‘My mother used to tell me what happened at Nutley Copse. It would be better to go now.’

‘Well, go on then,’ answered Hazel. ‘I’m not stopping you. And I’m not leaving this warren. It’s my home.’ He looked at Hyzenthlay, heavy with young, who was sitting in the mouth of the nearest hole and listening to the talk. ‘How far do you think she’ll get? And Clover – do we leave her or what?’

‘No, we must stay,’ said Strawberry. ‘I believe El-ahrairah will save us from this Woundwort: and if he doesn’t, I’m not going back to Efrafa, I’ll tell you that.’

‘Fill in the holes,’ said Hazel.

As the sun set, the rabbits fell to clawing and scrabbling in the runs. The sides were hard with the hot weather. It was not easy to get started and when the soil began to fall, it was light and powdery and did little to block the holes. It was Blackberry who hit upon the idea of working outwards from inside the Honeycomb itself, scratching down the ceilings of the runs where they came into the meeting hall and blocking the holes by breaking the underground walls into them. One run, leading up into the wood, was left open for coming and going. It was the one where Kehaar used to shelter and the lobby at the mouth was still cluttered with guano. As Hazel passed the place, it occurred to him that Woundwort did not know that Kehaar had left them. He dug out as much of the mess as he could and scattered it about. Then, as the work went on below, he squatted on the bank and watched the darkening eastern sky-line.

His thoughts were very sad. Indeed, they were desperate. Although he had spoken resolutely in front of the others, he knew only too well how little hope there was of saving the warren from the Efrafans. They knew what they were doing. No doubt they had their methods of breaking into a closed warren. It was the faintest of chances that elil would disperse them. Most of the Thousand hunted rabbits for food. A stoat or a fox took a rabbit and took no more until it was ready to hunt again. But the Efrafans were accustomed to a death here and there. Unless General Woundwort himself were killed, they would stay until the job was done. Nothing would stop them, short of some unexpected catastrophe.

But suppose that he himself were to go and talk to Woundwort? Might there not just possibly be a chance of getting him to see sense? Whatever had happened at Nutley Copse, the Efrafans could not fight to the finish against rabbits like Bigwig, Holly and Silver without losing lives – probably a good many lives. Woundwort must know this. Perhaps it might not be too late, even now, to persuade him to agree to a new plan – a plan that would be as good for one warren as the other.

‘And perhaps it might be,’ thought Hazel grimly. ‘But it’s a possible chance and so I’m afraid the Chief Rabbit has got to take it. And since this savage brute is probably not to be trusted, I suppose the Chief Rabbit must go alone.’

He returned to the Honeycomb and found Bigwig.

‘I’m off to talk to General Woundwort, if I can get hold of him,’ he said. ‘You’re Chief Rabbit until I come back. Keep them at it.’

‘But Hazel,’ said Bigwig, ‘wait a moment. It’s not safe –’

‘I shan’t be long,’ said Hazel. ‘I’m just going to ask him what he’s up to.’

A moment later he was down the bank and limping up the track, pausing from time to time to sit up and look about him for an Efrafan patrol.