Tales from Watership Down (3 page)

“Sir,” he said, “where is that King and which way shall I go to find him?”

He heard them conversing together, and at length the
first Ilip said, “It would be too far for you to walk. You would lose your way. You would starve and die. You may come with me. I will take you on my back.”

Full of gratitude, El-ahrairah prostrated himself before the Ilips and thanked them again and again. Finally one of them said, “Here you go, then,” took him between its teeth and put him down on the first Ilip’s back. It was roughly furred, and he had no difficulty in holding on.

They set out, going what seemed very fast. As they went, El-ahrairah explained to the Ilip that his friend the glanbrin was waiting for him at the place of stones, and asked whether they could go by that way.

“We can stop there, certainly,” replied the Ilip. “It’s on our way. But directly your friend smells me, he’ll run.”

“If you could put me down, sir, a little way off,” said El-ahrairah, “I’ll find him and explain. Then you could come up to us and take us both.”

To this the Ilip agreed. El-ahrairah found the glanbrin, who at first was terrified at the very thought of riding on an Ilip’s back. At length, however, El-ahrairah persuaded him, and the Ilip set out again, carrying them both.

Traveling at the Ilip’s speed, it seemed no distance at all to the place where El-ahrairah had first met the glanbrin. When they got there, he told the Ilip the story of his friend’s loss of his beautiful doe.

“Is it far to the burrow you left?” asked the Ilip.

“Oh, no, sir,” replied the glanbrin. “It’s quite close by.”

Guided by the glanbrin, the Ilip took them there.
When Shindyke, the great buck who had taken Flairgold for himself, smelled the Ilip outside the burrow, he came out and ran away as fast as he could go. The glanbrin explained everything to Flairgold, who was delighted to take him back as her mate. She said she had hated Shindyke but had been given no choice.

The glanbrin and El-ahrairah said goodbye to each other with much sincerity and mutual gratitude, and the Ilip set out once more with El-ahrairah to the court of the King of Yesterday.

Soon they were in twilight, and never had El-ahrairah been more glad to see it. The Ilip put him down on the edge of the forest.

“The King’s court’s over there,” he said. “I’ll leave you now. I’m glad to have been able to help a friend of Lord Frith.”

With this the Ilip disappeared into the forest, and El-ahrairah set off toward the court.

As he came out from among the trees, he found himself crossing a rough field, full of weeds. Upon the further side was a straggling hawthorn hedge and an old, half-broken gate. El-ahrairah, slipping through the gate, was confronted by a creature about the same size as himself, with long ears like his own but having a long tail. He greeted him politely and asked where he could find the King of Yesterday.

“I can take you to him,” said the creature. “Are you by any chance an English rabbit? Yes? Well, I always thought it was bound to come.”

“And you?” asked El-ahrairah.

“I am a potoroo. We’ll go this way, down toward the river. The King will probably be in the big courtyard.”

They went down the field together and through a gap in the hedge to the bank of a very still river, which appeared to El-ahrairah to be scarcely flowing at all. His companion spoke quietly to a kind of heron, brown-plumaged and with a black head, which was wading in the shallows. The bird took a few steps across to them and stared intently at El-ahrairah, who felt uncomfortable under its scrutiny.

“An English rabbit,” said the potoroo. “Just come. I’m taking him to the King.”

The heron made no reply but merely resumed its listless wading. El-ahrairah and his companion went on along the bank. The path led into a gloomy shrubbery, planted with yew and laurel, beyond which stood some old sheds, forming three sides of a kind of courtyard. The floor was of earth beaten (or trodden) hard, and here were lying a number of animals, all unknown to El-ahrairah. Among them, in the center, stood a great, horned beast somewhat resembling a gigantic cow, but unkempt and shaggy. As they entered the courtyard this animal raised its heavy, bearded head and then came slowly toward them. El-ahrairah felt frightened and turned to bolt.

“You needn’t be afraid,” said his companion. “This is the King. He won’t hurt you.”

El-ahrairah, still trembling, lay flat on the ground as the big animal nuzzled him, sniffing with its warm nostrils
until he felt wet all over. At length, in a very deep but not unfriendly voice, it said, “Please stand up and tell me what you are.”

“I am an English rabbit, Your Majesty.”

“What, are they all gone so soon?”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, I don’t understand.”

“Are your people not extinct?”

“Certainly not, Your Majesty. We’re numerous, I’m glad to say. I’ve made a long and dangerous journey to come before you and beg a great favor for my people.”

“But this is the Kingdom of Yesterday. Did you know this when you set out to come here?”

“I have heard the name, Your Majesty, but I don’t know its meaning.”

“Every creature in my kingdom is extinct. How did you get here if you are not extinct?”

“An Ilip brought me on its back through a forest of darkness. The darkness almost drove me mad.”

The King nodded his huge head. “I see; yes. You couldn’t have come here in any other way. But—the Ilips didn’t kill you? You have magic, then?”

“Well, yes, of a sort, Your Majesty. I have the blessing and protection of Lord Frith, and as you see, I’m wearing an astral collar. May I make so bold as to ask what you are?”

“I am an Oregon Bison. I rule this country, appointed by Lord Frith. When you arrived just now, I was about to take a walk among my people. You may come with me.”

They set off from the courtyard into the fields beyond. These were full of hundreds of animals, all different, and birds were flying overhead. To El-ahrairah it seemed a bleak, melancholy place, but naturally he said nothing of this to the King. He stopped to admire a bird with a black-spotted body and bright-red wings, tail and cheeks—a kind of woodpecker, as it seemed—which was at work on a nearby tree trunk. He asked its name.

“It’s a Guadalupe Flicker,” said the King. “We have only too many woodpeckers here; I wish we had not.”

As they went on, more and more animals and birds appeared, many of whom spoke to the King and inquired about El-ahrairah. He saw species of lions and of tigers, and a kind of jaguar which rubbed its head against the King’s leg and walked beside them for some time.

“Have you any rabbits?” asked El-ahrairah.

“Not one,” replied the King. “Not yet.”

At this, El-ahrairah felt deeply gratified and even triumphant, for he recalled Lord Frith’s promise to him of long ago, that although he and his people should have a thousand enemies, yet they should never be destroyed. He told the King all about it.

“It is entirely by human beings that every one of my subjects has been destroyed,” the King told him, as they stopped to admire and talk to a splendid grizzly bear, whose coat of light-brown fur was tipped with silver. “Some, like my Mexican friend here, the men quite deliberately shot, trapped and poisoned out of existence; but many others
vanished because men destroyed their natural habitats and they couldn’t adapt themselves to live elsewhere.”

They were coming to a forest, whose tall trees, tangled together with creeper, actually shut out a large part of the sky. El-ahrairah felt nervous. He had had quite enough of forests for the time being. But the King, it seemed, was concerned only to watch the birds among the outer precincts. Most splendid they were, finches, honeycreepers, dark-plumaged molokai, macaws and many more, all living at peace and acknowledging their allegiance to the king.

“This forest,” said the King, “is vast and grows daily. If you went in, you would soon be lost and never find your way out again. It consists of all the forest destroyed by human beings. Of late years it has grown so fast that Lord Frith has told me that he is thinking of appointing a second king to rule it.” He smiled. “A king who might well be a tree himself, El-ahrairah. What would you think of that?”

“I would think that Lord Frith, in his wisdom, is justified in all his ways, Your Majesty.”

The King laughed. “A very good reply. Come, we’ll stroll back now. There is an assembly at sunset, and you’ll be able to ask me the favor you are seeking for your people. I promise to help if I can.”

They walked back by way of the river, in which the King showed El-ahrairah several fishes—New Zealand Grayling, Thicktail Chub, Blackfin Cisco and others—all of which had become extinct. Back at the courtyard, they found animals and birds already assembling, and as the
sun set, the King announced that he would start the meeting.

He began by introducing El-ahrairah, telling them that he had come to the Court of Yesterday to beg for a favor which would greatly benefit the rabbits of whom he was the Chief. Then he asked El-ahrairah to take his place in the middle of all the creatures present and tell them what he had come to ask for.

El-ahrairah spoke to them about his people, of their strength and speed and cunning, and of how they lacked only one faculty to make them rivals of all other animals—namely, the Sense of Smell. When he had finished speaking, he could tell that all the birds and animals felt themselves on his side and eager to help him.

Then the King spoke. “My good friend,” he said, “most brave and worthy rabbit, how gladly would I grant your request. But alas! we in this kingdom are no longer the guardians of the Sense of Smell. It is true that the Ilips gave it to us to keep many years ago, but here, in the Land of Yesterday, we were never able to put it to any use. Then one day an emissary, a gazelle, came to us from the King of Tomorrow, requesting us to lend them the Sense of Smell. They would return it soon, the gazelle promised. So we gave it to him to take back to their King. But you know how it often is with things that are lent: they don’t get returned. Having no use for it here, we forgot all about it; and so, I dare say, have they. It must still be at the court of the King of Tomorrow, and I can only advise you,
friend rabbit, to seek it there. I am very sorry to disappoint you.”

“Is it far?” asked El-ahrairah. He was thinking that if anyone else referred him elsewhere he would explode with frustration; yet what could he do?

“I fear it certainly is far,” replied the King. “It must be many days’ journey for a rabbit. Dangerous too.”

“Your Majesty,” cried a brindled, heavy-muzzled gray wolf. “I will carry him there on my back. It will be no distance for me.”

El-ahrairah gladly accepted the offer, and that very night they set out together, for the Kenai wolf told him that he preferred traveling by night and sleeping by day.

They traveled for three nights; a long way, but El-ahrairah saw little of the countries through which they passed, because of the all-surrounding darkness. The wolf told him that his people had once been among the largest of all wolves. They had inhabited a place called the Kenai Peninsula, in a bitterly cold country far away, where they had lived by hunting a huge kind of deer called “moose.” “But the human beings killed us all,” he said.

As dawn was about to break at the end of their third night together, the wolf put El-ahrairah gently down and said, “I can take you no further, friend rabbit. I’m extinct, you see, so I can’t go into the Land of Tomorrow. You’ll have to ask your way to the King’s court from here. Good luck! I hope all goes well and that they give you what you are seeking so bravely.”

So El-ahrairah entered the Land of Tomorrow and began asking the way to the King’s court. He asked raccoons, chipmunks, groundhogs and many more. All were friendly and helpful, and his journey was easy enough. At length, one morning, he heard in the distance an alarming clamor, as though all the animals in the world were fighting together.

“Whatever is all that noise?” he asked a koala bear perched in a nearby tree.

“That, cobber? Oh, that’s only a meeting at the King’s court,” answered the koala. “Noisy lot, aren’t they? You soon get used to it, though. Some are a bit ocker, but they’re nearly all quite harmless.”

El-ahrairah went on until he came to two great ornamental gates, all of gold, set in a hedge of copper-leaved prunus in white bloom. As he was looking through the gates at the garden beyond, a peacock, its tail fully spread, came up and asked him what he wanted. El-ahrairah replied that he had made a long and dangerous journey to seek an audience of the King.

“I’ll let you in with pleasure,” said the peacock, “but you’ll find it hard to get near the King and talk to him. There are thousands of creatures all trying to do that. The King holds a meeting every day. Today’s will be starting quite soon now. You’d better go in and try your luck.” And he swung open one of the gates.

Going into the gardens, El-ahrairah found himself pressed among a crowd of animals, birds and reptiles, all
chattering together and all determined to speak with the King if they could. He felt dispirited, for he could not imagine how he could possibly manage to get to the King in competition with a throng like this. As well as he could, he made his way through them to the further side.

Here he found a long, grassy field, which sloped smoothly down to a flat lawn at the bottom. A few animals were already gathering together on the slope, and El-ahrairah asked a passing bobcat what was going to happen.

“Why, the King will be coming soon,” answered the bobcat, “to hear the requests of animals who petition him.”

“Will there be many?” asked El-ahrairah.

“There always are,” replied the bobcat. “More than the King can ever hear in one day. Some animals have been coming here for days and still can’t get a hearing.”

The slope was filling up fast. Looking at all the animals, El-ahrairah felt his heart sink. He would never, he thought, be able to speak to the King with this lot all contending. Never, that was, unless he could think of a clever trick of some kind. He racked his brains. A trick, a rabbit trick! Lord Frith, a rabbit trick!