" 'My lord,' replied El-ahrairah, 'I have come to give you my life. My life for my people.'

"The Black Rabbit drew his claws along the floor.

" 'Bargains, bargains, El-ahrairah,' he said. There is not a day or a night but a doe offers her life for her kittens, or some honest captain of Owsla his life for his Chief Rabbit's. Sometimes it is taken, sometimes it is not. But there is no bargain, for here what is is what must be.'

"El-ahrairah was silent. But he thought, 'Perhaps I can trick him into taking my life. He would keep a promise, as Prince Rainbow kept his.'

" 'You are my guest, El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit. 'Stay in my burrow as long as you wish. You may sleep here. And you may eat here, and they are few indeed who can do as much. Let him eat,' he said to the Owsla.

" 'We will not eat, my lord,' said El-ahrairah, for he knew that if he ate the food which they gave him in that burrow, his secret thoughts would become plain and there would be an end of tricks.

" 'Then at least we must entertain you,' said the Black Rabbit. 'You must feel at home, El-ahrairah, and make yourself comfortable. Come, let us play bob-stones.'*

" 'Very well,' said El-ahrairah, 'and if I win, my lord, perhaps you will be so good as to accept my life in return for my people's safety.'

" 'I will,' said the Black Rabbit. 'But if I win, El-ahrairah, you shall give me both your tail and your whiskers.'

"The stones were brought and El-ahrairah sat down in the cold and the echoes to play against the Black Rabbit of Inle. Now, as you may suppose, El-ahrairah knew how to play bob-stones. He could play as well as any rabbit that ever covered a cast. But there--in that dreadful place, with the Black Rabbit's eyes upon him and the Owsla who made no sound--try as he would, his wits deserted him and even before he cast, he felt that the Black Rabbit knew what was down. The Black Rabbit showed never the least haste. He played as the snow falls, without sound or change, until at last El-ahrairah's spirit failed him and he knew that he could not win.

" 'You can pay your stakes to the Owsla, El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit, 'and they will show you a burrow to sleep in. I shall return tomorrow and if you are still here I will see you. But you are free to leave whenever you wish.'

"Then the Owsla took El-ahrairah away and cut off his tail and pulled out his whiskers; and when he came to himself, he was alone with Rabscuttle in a hollow stone burrow, with an opening to the mountain outside.

" 'Oh, master,' said Rabscuttle, 'what will you do now? For Frith's sake let us go away. I can feel for both of us in the dark.'

" 'Certainly not,' said El-ahrairah. He still hoped to get what he wanted from the Black Rabbit somehow and he felt sure that they had been put into this burrow so that they would be tempted to steal away. 'Certainly not. I can make do very well with some willow herb and clematis. Go out and get some, Rabscuttle, but make sure you come back before tomorrow evening. You had better try to bring some food, too, if you can.'

"Rabscuttle went out as he was told and El-ahrairah was left alone. He slept very little, partly for the pain and partly for the fear that never left him; but chiefly because he was still searching for some trick that would serve his turn. The next day Rabscuttle returned with some pieces of turnip, and after El-ahrairah had eaten them, Rabscuttle helped him to patch himself up with a gray tail and whiskers made from the winter drift of clematis and ragwort. In the evening he went to meet the Black Rabbit as though nothing had happened.

" 'Well, El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit--and he did not wrinkle his nose up and down when he sniffed, but thrust it forward, as a dog does--'my burrow cannot be what you are used to: but perhaps you have done your best to make yourself comfortable?'

" 'I have, my lord,' said El-ahrairah. 'I am glad that you allow me to stay.'

" 'Perhaps we will not play bob-stones tonight,' said the Black Rabbit. 'You must understand, El-ahrairah, that I have no wish to make you suffer. I am not one of the Thousand. I repeat, you may stay or leave as you please. But if you are going to remain, perhaps you would care to hear a story; and to tell one yourself, if you like.'

" 'Certainly, my lord,' said El-ahrairah. 'And if I can tell a story as good as yours, perhaps you will accept my life and grant the safety of my people.'

" 'I will,' said the Black Rabbit. 'But if not, El-ahrairah, you will have to forfeit your ears.' He waited to see whether El-ahrairah would refuse the wager but he did not.

"Then the Black Rabbit told such a tale of fear and darkness as froze the hearts of Rabscuttle and El-ahrairah where they crouched on the rock, for they knew that every word was true. Their wits turned. They seemed to be plunged in icy clouds that numbed their senses; and the Black Rabbit's story crept into their hearts like a worm into a nut, leaving them shriveled and empty. When at last that terrible story was ended, El-ahrairah tried to speak. But he could not collect his thoughts and he stammered and ran about the floor, like a mouse when the hawk glides low. The Black Rabbit waited silently, with no sign of impatience. At last it was clear that there would be no story from El-ahrairah, and the Owsla took him and put him into a deep sleep: and when he woke, his ears were gone and only Rabscuttle was beside him in the stone burrow, crying like a kitten.

" 'Oh, master,' said Rabscuttle, 'what good can this suffering bring? For the sake of Lord Frith and the green gra.s.s, let me take you home.'

" 'Nonsense,' said El-ahrairah. 'Go out and get me two good, big dock leaves. They will do very well for ears.'

" 'They will wither, master,' said Rabscuttle, 'and I am withered now.'

" 'They will last long enough,' said El-ahrairah grimly, for what I have to do. But I cannot find the way.'

"When Rabscuttle was gone, El-ahrairah forced himself to think clearly. The Black Rabbit would not accept his life. Also, it was plain that he himself would never be able to win any sort of wager against him: he might as well try to run a race across a sheet of ice. But if the Black Rabbit did not hate him, why did he inflict these sufferings upon him? To destroy his courage and make him give up and go away. But why not simply send him away? And why wait, before hurting him, till he himself proposed a wager and lost it? The answer came to him suddenly. These shadows had no power either to send him away or to hurt him, except with his own consent. They would not help him, no. They would seek possession of his will and break it if they could. But supposing that he could find among them something that would save his people, could they stop him from taking it away?

"When Rabscuttle came back, he helped El-ahrairah to diguise his horrible, maimed head with two dock leaves in place of ears, and after a while they slept. But El-ahrairah kept dreaming of his starving rabbits waiting in the runs to push back King Darzin's soldiers and placing all their hopes on him: and at last he woke, cold and cramped, and wandered out into the runs of the stone warren. As he limped along, trailing the dock leaves on either side of his head--for he could not raise or move them like the ears he had lost--he came to a place from which several narrow runs led down deeper into the ground; and here he found two of the ghastly, shadowy Owsla moving about some dark business of their own. They turned and stared, to make him afraid, but El-ahrairah was past being afraid and he stared back at them, wondering what they had in mind to persuade him to lose.

" 'Turn back, El-ahrairah,' said one at last. 'You have no business here, in the pit. You are alive; and have suffered much already.'

" 'Not as much as my people,' replied El-ahrairah.

" 'There is enough suffering here for a thousand warrens,' said the shadow. 'Do not be stubborn, El-ahrairah. In these holes lie all the plagues and diseases that come to rabbits--fever and mange and the sickness of the bowels. And here, too, in this nearest hole, lies the white blindness, that sends creatures hobbling out to die in the fields, where even the elil will not touch their rotting bodies. This is our task, to see that all these are ready for the use of Inle-rah. For what is is what must be.'

"Then El-ahrairah knew that he must give himself no time to think. He pretended to go back, but suddenly turned, rushed upon the shadows and plunged into the nearest hole faster than a raindrop into the ground. And there he lay, while the shadows flickered and gibbered about the entrance, for they had no power to move him, except by fear. After a time they went away and El-ahrairah was left alone, wondering whether he would be able to reach King Darzin's army in time without the use of whiskers or ears.

"At last, when he was sure that he must have stayed in the hole long enough to be infected, El-ahrairah came out and began to make his way back along the run. He did not know how soon the disease would appear or how long he would take to die, but plainly he ought to return as quickly as he could--if possible, before there was any sign of illness on him. Without going near Rabscuttle, he must tell him to hurry ahead, reach the rabbits in the warren and warn them to block all the holes and stay inside until King Darzin's army was destroyed.

"He blundered into a stone in the dark, for he was shivering and feverish and in any case he could feel little or nothing without his whiskers. At that moment a quiet voice said, 'El-ahrairah, where are you going?' He had heard nothing, but he knew that the Black Rabbit was beside him.

" 'I am going home, my lord,' he replied. 'You said that I might go when I wished.'

" 'You have some purpose, El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit. 'What is it?'

" 'I have been in the pit, my lord,' answered El-ahrairah. 'I am infected with the white blindness and I am going to save my people by destroying the enemy.'

" 'El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit, 'do you know how the white blindness is carried?'

"A sudden misgiving seized upon El-ahrairah. He said nothing.

" 'It is carried by the fleas in rabbits' ears, said the Black Rabbit. 'They pa.s.s from the ears of a sick rabbit to those of his companions. But, El-ahrairah, you have no ears and fleas will not go to dock leaves. You can neither catch nor carry the white blindness.'

"Then at last El-ahrairah felt that his strength and courage were gone. He fell to the ground. He tried to move, but his back legs dragged along the rock and he could not get up. He scuffled and then lay still in the silence.

" 'El-ahrairah,' said the Black Rabbit at last, this is a cold warren: a bad place for the living and no place at all for warm hearts and brave spirits. You are a nuisance to me. Go home. I myself will save your people. Do not have the impertinence to ask me when. There is no time here. They are already saved.'

"In that moment, while King Darzin and his soldiers were still jeering down the holes of the warren, confusion and terror came upon them in the falling darkness. The fields seemed full of huge rabbits with red eyes, stalking among the thistles. They turned and fled. They vanished in the night; and that is why no rabbit who tells the tales of El-ahrairah can say what kind of creatures they were or what they looked like. Not one of them has ever been seen, from that day to this.

"When at last El-ahrairah was able to rise to his feet, the Black Rabbit was gone and Rabscuttle was coming down the run, looking for him. Together they went out to the mountainside and made their way down the stone-rattling gully in the mist. They did not know where they were going, except that they were going away from the Black Rabbit's warren. But after a time it became plain that El-ahrairah was ill from shock and exhaustion. Rabscuttle dug a sc.r.a.pe and there they stayed for several days.

"Later, when El-ahrairah began to get better, they wandered on, but they could not find their way back. They were confused in their wits and had to beg help and shelter of other animals whom they met. Their journey home lasted three months, and many adventures they had. Some these, as you know, are stories in themselves. Once they lived with a lendri and found pheasants' eggs for him in the wood. And once they barely escaped from the middle of a hayfield when the hay was cutting. All the time, Rabscuttle looked after El-ahrairah, brought him fresh dock leaves and kept the flies from his wounds until they healed.

"At last, one day, they came back to the warren. It was evening, and as the sun stretched out all the hills, they could see any number of rabbits at silflay, nibbling in the gra.s.s and playing over the ant heaps. They stopped at the top of the field, sniffing the gorse and herb robert on the wind.

" 'Well, they look all right,' said El-ahrairah. 'A healthy lot, really. Let's just slip in quietly and see whether we can find one or two of the Owsla captains underground. We don't want a lot of fuss.'

"They made their way along the hedgerow, but could not altogether get their bearings, because apparently the warren had grown bigger and there were more holes than before, both in the bank and in the field. They stopped to speak to a group of smart young bucks and does sitting under the elder bloom.

" 'We want to find Loosestrife,' said Rabscuttle. 'Can you tell us where his burrow is?'

" 'I never heard of him,' answered one of the bucks. 'Are you sure he's in this warren?'

" 'Unless he's dead,' said Rabscuttle. 'But surely you must have heard of Captain Loosestrife? He was an officer of the Owsla in the fighting.'

" 'What fighting?' asked another buck.

" 'The fighting against King Darzin,' replied Rabscuttle.

" 'Here, do me a favor, old fellow, will you?' said the buck. 'That fighting--I wasn't born when it finished.'

" 'But surely you know the Owsla captains who were?' said Rabscuttle.

" 'I wouldn't be seen dead with them,' said the buck. 'What, that white-whiskered old bunch? What do we want to know about them?'

" 'What they did,' said Rabscuttle.

" 'That war lark, old fellow?' said the first buck. 'That's all finished now. That's got nothing to do with us.'

" 'If this Loosestrife fought King What's-His-Name, that's his business,' said one of the does. 'It's not our business, is it?'

" 'It was all a very wicked thing,' said another doe. 'Shameful, really. If n.o.body fought in wars, there wouldn't be any, would there? But you can't get old rabbits to see that.'

" 'My father was in it,' said the second buck. 'He gets on about it sometimes. I always go out quick. "They did this and then we did that" and all that caper. Makes you curl up, honest. Poor old geezer, you'd think he'd want to forget about it. I reckon he makes half of it up. And where did it get him, tell me that?'

" 'If you don't mind waiting a little while, sir,' said a buck to El-ahrairah, 'I'll go and see if I can find Captain Loosestrife for you. I don't actually know him myself, but then it's rather a big warren.'

" 'That's good of you,' said El-ahrairah, 'but I think I've got my bearings now and I can manage by myself.'

"El-ahrairah went along the hedgerow to the wood and sat alone under a nut bush, looking out across the fields. As the light began to fail, he suddenly realized that Lord Frith was close beside him, among the leaves.

" 'Are you angry, El-ahrairah?' asked Lord Frith.

" 'No, my lord,' replied El-ahrairah, 'I am not angry. But I have learned that with creatures one loves, suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them. A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, even though he may think otherwise himself.'

" 'Wisdom is found on the desolate hillside, El-ahrairah, where none comes to feed, and the stony bank where the rabbit scratches a hole in vain. But, speaking of gifts, I have brought a few trifles for you. A pair of ears, tail and some whiskers. You may find the ears slightly strange at first. I put a little starlight in them, but it is really quite faint: not enough, I am sure, to give away a clever thief like you. Ah, there is Rabscuttle coming back. Good, I have something for him, too. Shall we--' "

"Hazel! Hazel-rah!" It was Pipkin's voice from behind a clump of burdock on the edge of the little circle of listeners. "There's a fox coming up the combe!"

*Bob-stones is a traditional game of rabbits. It is played with small stones, fragments of sticks or the like. Fundamentally it is a very simple kind of gambling, on the lines of "Odds or Evens." A "cast" of stones on the ground is covered by the player's front paw. The opponent must then hazard some sort of surmise about its nature--e.g., one or two, light or dark, rough or smooth.

32. Across the Iron Road

Esprit de rivalite et de mesintelligence qui preserva plus d'une fois l'armee anglaise d'une defaite.

General Jourdan, Memoires Militaires Memoires Militaires Some people have the idea that rabbits spend a good deal of their time running away from foxes. It is true that every rabbit fears the fox and will bolt if it smells one. But many rabbits go all their lives without seeing a fox and probably only a few actually fall victim to an enemy who smells strongly and cannot run as fast as they can. A fox trying to catch a rabbit usually creeps upwind under cover--perhaps through a patch of woodland to the edge. Then, if he succeeds in getting close to where the rabbits are at silflay along the bank or in the field, he lies still and watches his chance for a quick s.n.a.t.c.h. It is said that sometimes he fascinates them, as the weasel does, by rolling and playing in the open, coming closer little by little until he can make a grab. However this may be, it is certain that no fox hunts rabbits by going openly up a combe at sunset.

Neither Hazel nor any of the rabbits who had been listening to Dandelion's story had ever seen a fox. Nevertheless, they knew that a fox in the open, plain to be seen, is not dangerous as long as it is spotted in time. Hazel realized that he had been careless to allow everyone to gather round Dandelion and to have failed to post even one sentry. What wind there was was from the northeast and the fox, coming up the combe from the west, might have broken in upon them without warning. But from this danger they had been saved by Fiver and Pipkin going into the open. Even in his flash of alarm as Pipkin spoke, it crossed Hazel's mind that Fiver, no doubt reluctant to advise him in front of the others, had probably seized the opportunity provided by Pipkin's fear to post himself as a sentry.

Hazel thought quickly. If the fox were not too close, all they had to do was run. There was woodland nearby and they could vanish into it, keeping more or less together, and simply continue on their way. He pushed through the burdocks.

"How close is it?" he asked. "And where's Fiver?"

"I'm here," replied Fiver, from a few yards away. He was squatting under the long briars of a dog rose and did not turn his head as Hazel came up beside him. "And there's the fox," he added. Hazel followed his gaze.

The rough, weed-covered ground of the combe sloped away below them, a long dip bounded on the north by Caesar's Belt. The last of the setting sun shone straight up it through a break in the trees. The fox was below them and still some way off. Although it was almost directly downwind and therefore must be able to smell them, it did not look as though it were particularly interested in rabbits. It was trotting steadily up the combe like a dog, trailing its white-tipped brush. In color it was sandy brown, with dark legs and ears. Even now, though obviously not hunting, it had a crafty, predatory look that made the watchers among the dog roses shiver. As it pa.s.sed behind a patch of thistles and disappeared from view, Hazel and Fiver returned to the others.

"Come on," said Hazel. "If you've never seen a fox, don't bother to go and look now. Just follow me."

He was about to lead the way up the south side of the combe when suddenly a rabbit shouldered him roughly aside, pushed past Fiver and was gone into the open. Hazel stopped and looked round in amazement.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Bigwig," answered Fiver, staring.

Together they went quickly back to the briars and once more looked into the combe. Bigwig, in full view, was loping warily downhill, straight toward the fox. They watched him, aghast. He drew near, but still the fox paid no attention.

"Hazel," said Silver from behind, "shall I--?"

"No one is to move," said Hazel quickly. "Keep still, all of you."

At about thirty yards' distance the fox saw the approaching rabbit. It paused for a moment and then continued to trot forward. It was almost upon him before Bigwig turned and began to limp up the north slope of the combe toward the trees of the Belt. The fox hesitated again and then followed him.

"What's he up to?" muttered Blackberry.

"Trying to draw it off, I suppose," replied Fiver.

"But he didn't have to! We should have got away without that."

"Confounded fool!" said Hazel. "I don't know when I've been so angry."

The fox had quickened its pace and was now some distance away from them. It appeared to be overtaking Bigwig. The sun had set and in the failing light they could just make him out as he entered the undergrowth. He disappeared and the fox followed. For several moments all was quiet. Then, horribly clear across the darkening, empty combe, there came the agonizing squeal of a stricken rabbit.

"O Frith and Inle!" cried Blackberry, stamping. Pipkin turned to bolt. Hazel did not move.

"Shall we go, Hazel?" asked Silver. "We can't help him now."

As he spoke, Bigwig suddenly broke out of the trees, running very fast. Almost before they could grasp that he was alive, he had recrossed the entire upper slope of the combe in a single dash and bolted in among them.

"Come on," said Bigwig, "let's get out of here!"

"But what--what--Are you wounded?" asked Bluebell in bewilderment.

"No," said Bigwig, "never better! Let's go!"

"You can wait until I'm ready," said Hazel in a cold, angry tone. "You've done your best to kill yourself and acted like a complete fool. Now hold your tongue and sit down!" He turned and, although it was rapidly becoming too dark to see any distance, made as though he were still looking out across the combe. Behind him, the rabbits fidgeted nervously. Several had begun to feel a dreamlike sense of unreality. The long day above ground, the close, overgrown combe, the frightening story in which they had been absorbed, the sudden appearance of the fox, the shock of Bigwig's inexplicable adventure--all these, following one upon another, had flooded their spirits and left them dull and bemused.

"Get them out, Hazel," whispered Fiver, "before they all go tharn."