Watership Down (70 page)

       
"Did y'see Bob?"

       
"Never," said Lucy. "Where's 'e gone, then?"

       
"Bust 'is rope an' off. I know'd that old rope were gett'n on like, but I didn't reckon 'e could bust 'im. Anyways, I go' go in to Newbury s'mornin'. 'F'e turns up agen you'd best tie 'im up proper."

       
"I'll look out fer 'im, Dad," said Lucy. "I'll ge' bi' o' breakfast up to Mum now."

       
"Ah, that's good girl. I reckon she'll be right's a trivet tomorrer."

       
Doctor Adams arrived soon after ten. Lucy, who was making her bed and tidying her room later than she should have been, heard him stop his car under the elms at the top of the lane and went out to meet him, wondering why he had not driven up to the house as usual. He had got out of the car and was standing with his hands behind his back, looking down the lane, but he caught sight of her and called in the rather shy, abrupt way she was used to.

       
"Er--Lucy."

       
She ran up. He took off his pince-nez and put them in his waistcoat pocket.

       
"Is that your dog?"

       
The Labrador was coming up the lane, looking decidedly tired and trailing its broken rope. Lucy laid hold of it.

       
" 'E's bin off, Doctor. 'Bin ever so worried 'bout 'im."

       
The Labrador began to sniff at Doctor Adams' shoes.

       
"Something's been fighting with him, I think," said Doctor Adams. "His nose is scratched quite badly, and that looks like some kind of a bite on his leg."

       
"What d'you reckon t'was, then, Doctor?"

       
"Well, it might have been a big rat, I suppose, or perhaps a stoat. Something he went for that put up a fight."

       
"I got a rabbit s'mornin', Doctor. Woild one. 'E's aloive. I took 'un off o' the cat. On'y I reckon e's 'urt. Joo like see 'im?"

       
"Well, I'd better go and see Mrs. Cane first, I think." (Not "your mother," thought Lucy.) "And then if I've got time I'll have a look at the chap."

       
Twenty minutes later Lucy was holding the rabbit as quiet as she could while Doctor Adams pressed it gently here and there with the balls of two fingers.

       
"Well, there doesn't seem to be much the matter with him, as far as I can see," he said at last. "Nothing's broken. There's something funny about his hind leg, but that's been done some time and it's more or less healed--or as much as it ever will. The cat's scratched him across here, you see, but that's nothing much. I should think he'll be all right for a bit."

       
"No good to keep 'im, though, Doctor, would it? In 'utch, I mean."

       
"Oh, no, he wouldn't live shut up in a box. If he couldn't get out he'd soon die. No, I should let the poor chap go--unless you want to eat him."

       
Lucy laughed. "Dad'd be ever s'woild, though, if I was to let 'im go anywheres round 'ere. 'E always says one rabbit means 'undred an' one."

       
"Well, I'll tell you what," said Doctor Adams, taking his thin fob watch on the fingers of one hand and looking down at it as he held it at arm's length--for he was longsighted--"I've got to go a few miles up the road to see an old lady at Cole Henley. If you like to come along in the car, you can let him go on the down and I'll bring you back before dinner."

       
Lucy skipped. "I'll just go'n ask Mum."

       
On the ridge between Hare Warren Down and Watership Down, Doctor Adams stopped the car.

       
"I should think this would be as good as anywhere," he said. "There's not a lot of harm he can do here, if you come to think about it."

       
They walked a short distance eastward from the road and Lucy set the rabbit down. It sat stupefied for nearly half a minute and then suddenly dashed away over the grass.

       
"Yes, he
has
got something the matter with that leg, you see," said Doctor Adams. "But he could perfectly well live for years, as far as that goes. Born and bred in a briar patch, Brer Fox."

49.
   
Hazel Comes Home

Well, we've been lucky devils both

And there's no need of pledge or oath

To bind our lovely friendship fast,

  
By firmer stuff

  
Close bound enough.--

Robert Graves,
Two Fusiliers

Although Woundwort had shown himself at the last to be a creature virtually mad, nevertheless what he did proved not altogether futile. There can be little doubt that if he had not done it, more rabbits would have been killed that morning on Watership Down. So swiftly and silently had the dog come up the hill behind Dandelion and Blackberry that one of Campion's sentries, half asleep under a tussock after the long night, was pulled down and killed in the instant that he turned to bolt. Later--after it had left Woundwort--the dog beat up and down the bank and the open grass for some time, barking and dashing at every bush and clump of weeds. But by now the Efrafans had had time to scatter and hide, as best they could. Besides, the dog, unexpectedly scratched and bitten, showed a certain reluctance to come to grips. At last, however, it succeeded in putting up and killing the rabbit who had been wounded by glass the day before, and with this it made off by the way it had come, disappearing over the edge of the escarpment.

       
There could be no question now of the Efrafans renewing their attack on the warren. None had any idea beyond saving his own life. Their leader was gone. The dog had been set on them by the rabbits they had come to kill--of this they were sure. It was all one with the mysterious fox and the white bird. Indeed, Ragwort, the most unimaginative rabbit alive, had actually heard it underground. Campion, crouching in a patch of nettles with Vervain and four or five more, met with nothing but shivering agreement when he said that he was sure that they ought to leave at once this dangerous place, where they had already stayed far too long.

       
Without Campion, probably not one rabbit would have got back to Efrafa. As it was, all his skill as a patroller could not bring home half of those who had come to Watership. Three or four had run and strayed too far to be found and what became of them no one ever knew. There were probably fourteen or fifteen rabbits--no more--who set off with Campion, some time before ni-Frith, to try to retrace the long journey they had made only the previous day. They were not fit to cover the distance by nightfall: and before long they had worse to face than their own fatigue and low spirits. Bad news travels fast. Down to the Belt and beyond, the rumor spread that the terrible General Woundwort and his Owsla had been cut to pieces on Watership Down and that what was left of them was trailing southward in poor shape, with little heart to keep alert. The Thousand began to close in--stoats, a fox, even a tomcat from some farm or other. At every halt yet another rabbit was not to be found and no one could remember seeing what had happened to him. One of these was Vervain. It had been plain from the start that he had nothing left and, indeed, there was little reason for him to return to Efrafa without the General.

       
Through all the fear and hardship Campion remained steady and vigilant, holding the survivors together, thinking ahead and encouraging the exhausted to keep going. During the afternoon of the following day, while the Off Fore Mark were at silflay, he came limping through the sentry line with a straggling handful of six or seven rabbits. He was close to collapse himself and scarcely able to give the Council any account of the disaster.

       
Only Groundsel, Thistle and three others had the presence of mind to dart down the opened run when the dog came. Back in the Honeycomb, Groundsel immediately surrendered himself and his fugitives to Fiver, who was still bemused from his long trance, and scarcely restored to his senses sufficiently to grasp what was toward. At length, however, after the five Efrafans had remained crouching for some time in the burrow, listening to the sounds of the dog hunting above, Fiver recovered himself, made his way to the mouth of the run where Bigwig still lay half conscious, and succeeded in making Holly and Silver understand that the siege was ended. There was no lack of helpers to tear open the blocked gaps in the south wall. It so happened that Bluebell was the first through into the Honeycomb; and for many days afterward he was still improving upon his imitation of Captain Fiver at the head of his crowd of Efrafan prisoners--"like a tomtit rounding up a bunch of molting jackdaws," as he put it.

       
No one was inclined to pay them much attention at the time, however, for the only thoughts throughout the warren were for Hazel and Bigwig. Bigwig seemed likely to die. Bleeding in half a dozen places, he lay with closed eyes in the run he had defended and made no reply when Hyzenthlay told him that the Efrafans were defeated and the warren was saved. After a time, they dug carefully to broaden the run and as the day wore on the does, each in turn, remained beside him, licking his wounds and listening to his low, unsteady breathing.

       
Before this, Blackberry and Dandelion had burrowed their way in from Kehaar's run--it had not been blocked very heavily--and told their story. They could not say what might have happened to Hazel after the dog broke loose, and by the early afternoon everyone feared the worst. At last Pipkin, in great anxiety and distress, insisted on setting out for Nuthanger. Fiver at once said that he would go with him and together they left the wood and set off northward over the down. They had gone only a short distance when Fiver, sitting up on an anthill to look about, saw a rabbit approaching over the high ground to the west. They both ran nearer and recognized Hazel. Fiver went to meet him while Pipkin raced back to the Honeycomb with the news.

       
As soon as he had learned all that had happened--including what Groundsel had to tell--Hazel asked Holly to take two or three rabbits and find out for certain whether the Efrafans had really gone. Then he himself went into the run where Bigwig was lying. Hyzenthlay looked up as he came.

       
"He was awake a little while ago, Hazel-rah," she said. "He asked where you were; and then he said his ear hurt very much."

       
Hazel nuzzled the matted fur cap. The blood had turned hard and set into pointed spikes that pricked his nose.

       
"You've done it, Bigwig," he said. "They've all run away."

       
For several moments Bigwig did not move. Then he opened his eyes and raised his head, pouching out his cheeks and sniffing at the two rabbits beside him. He said nothing and Hazel wondered whether he had understood. At last he whispered, "Ees finish Meester Voundvort, ya?"

       
"Ya," replied Hazel. "I've come to help you to silflay. It'll do you good and we can clean you up a lot better outside. Come on: it's a lovely afternoon, all sun and leaves."

       
Bigwig got up and tottered forward into the devastated Honeycomb. There he sank down, rested, got up again and reached the foot of Kehaar's run.

       
"I thought he'd killed me," he said. "No more fighting for me--I've had enough. And you--your plan worked, Hazel-rah, did it? Well done. Tell me what it was. And how did you get back from the farm?"

"A man brought me in a hrududu," said Hazel, "nearly all the way."

       
"And you flew the rest, I suppose," said Bigwig, "burning a white stick in your mouth? Come on, tell me sensibly. What's the matter, Hyzenthlay?"

       
"Oh!" said Hyzenthlay, staring. "Oh!"

       
"What is it?"

       
"He did!"

       
"Did what?"

       
"He
did
ride home in a hrududu. And I saw him as he came--that night in Efrafa, when I was with you in your burrow. Do you remember?"

       
"I remember," said Bigwig. "I remember what I said, too. I said you'd better tell it to Fiver. That's a good idea--let's go and do it. And if he'll believe you, Hazel-rah, then I will."

50.
   
And Last

Professing myself, moreover, convinced that the General's unjust interference, so far from being really injurious to their felicity, was perhaps rather conducive to it, by improving their knowledge of each other, and adding strength to their attachment, I leave it to be settled by whomsoever it may concern. ...

Jane Austen,
Northanger Abbey