None of Hazel's rabbits had ever experienced so prolonged or bitter a frost. There was little nourishment in the thin, many-times-nibbled grass, and little warmth to be gained from bodies huddled together underground. They became torpid and drowsy. Some supposed that the frost would never come to an end, and were hard to convince that endurance was worthwhile and their proper response, as ordained by Lord Frith.
One afternoon the cold lessened slightly. Cloud filled the western sky and moved gradually closer until it lay overhead. Heavy it seemed, as though carrying an invisible load pressing upon the Down and holding it even stiller than the frost. There was not the least wind, yet the cloud mass, which now filled the whole sky, moved slowly eastward, thickening as it came.
Snow began to fall; at first only a little, scattered here and there and gone as it reached the ground. A light but bitter breeze sprang up, driving the flakes before it as they increased. Soon the fall grew heavy, so that there was nothing to be seen through the flakes but more distant flakes, spinning and whirling as they fell. Before long they began to cover the grass, lying between the tussocks in patches which grew and came together to form sheets. By dusk the whole Down was overlaid, and onto the smooth whiteness fell more snow, slowly covering and deepening the fragile mass.
Gazing out at the snow, Hazel, who had done his best every day to meet and talk with all his rabbits, knew that the time had come to lead them down to the winter burrows dug by Bluebell, Pipkin and the does during the autumn. He had never been to look them over, and for this he blamed himself. One thing was sure: there could be no more digging now, with the ground hard as rock. They would have to take the winter burrows as they found them.
However, he thought that first he would go down the hill by himself and see what the burrows were like. Then he realized that he would have to take Bluebell with him, since Bluebell had assured him that the holes were well concealed, and without him he would probably not be able to find them. Finally he decided to take Bluebell, Pipkin and any of the does who wanted to come.
He had got them together and was on the point of setting out, when he was joined by Bigwig, who wondered where they were going and why. When Hazel told him, he asked to join the party, and Hazel, peering out into the still-falling snow, felt glad enough to take him along.
The snow caused them to difficulty over the direction to take, for it was simply a matter of running the short distance to the northern edge of the Down and then descending the steep slope to its foot. They could see almost nothing, however, through the falling snow, and neither Bluebell nor Pipkin could remember where the holes were and how far along the foot of the Down they needed to go. After some fruitless searching, Pipkin ventured to say that he thought they had come too far and ought to turn back and look along a particular bank which he now recalled. He was proved right almost at once, when Bluebell, going a little way up a snowy slope, came upon one of the holes, concealed by a clump of thistles.
Hazel and Bigwig found him crouching over the mouth of the hole, looking at it in an uncertain way, as though puzzled.
"Hazel-rah," he said, "if I'm not mistaken, this hole's been in use for quite some time. What's more, I think there are some rabbits down there now." He moved aside. "See what you think."
Hazel put his front paws through the snow. He could not be sure, but certainly he seemed to feel a scraped depression in the frozen ground and a slight irregularity in the mouth of the hole itself. There was a fresh smell of rabbits. He turned to Bigwig.
"I think he's right. There are some rabbits down there. We'd better go in ourselves, I suppose, and find out who they are."
So saying, without hesitation he went into the hole. He knew that Bigwig was behind him and felt sure enough that the others would follow. It was quite a long run, without obstructions, but as far as he could tell there was no enemy waiting for him at the other end. He came out into the burrow and paused for Bigwig to join him.
It was at this moment that he found himself confronted by a heavy, burly doe, a complete stranger. Her manner was hostile, and behind her was clustered a group of several younger rabbits.
"What do you think you're doing, coming in here?" said the doe. "Get out, before I--"
She stopped on seeing Bigwig behind Hazel, and as she hesitated Bluebell and Pipkin came out into the burrow, followed by four does.
"I think you'd better tell us who you are and what you're doing here," said Hazel, quietly but firmly. "This is our burrow. We dug it."
As the doe still hesitated, Bigwig, at Hazel's side, said tentatively, "Could you possibly be ... are you ... that is ... is your name Flyairth, and have you come from Thinial?"
At this, the doe started, trembling with real fear. Her whole manner changed. Bigwig said nothing more. At length she replied, "Who are you? How could you know--" She broke off.
In a tone of greater confidence, Bigwig repeated, "Is your name Flyairth?"
"Have you come from Thinial, then?" she asked him.
"No, I haven't," answered Bigwig. "For the third time, is your name Flyairth?"
Hazel interposed. "Let's all settle down comfortably and explain ourselves to one another." Sitting down himself, he went on: "The burrows where we usually live are higher up, not far from here. We dug these burrows down here last autumn, to have somewhere more sheltered to go when it started snowing. We don't want to quarrel with you, but naturally we were surprised to find you here."
The doe spoke to Bigwig. "How do you know my name and where I've come from?"
"I can't explain," replied Bigwig, "or not now, anyway. Whether or not you can stay is for our Chief Rabbit here to decide."
Still she persisted. "But have you been to Thinial? How do you know about Thinial?"
"Never mind about that now," said Hazel. "We just want you to know that we're not your enemies. You can stay--for the time being. Bigwig here and I are going back up the hill now to bring down the rest of our rabbits."
"Let me come with you," said the doe. "I've never been up the hill as yet, and I ought to get to know your warren as soon as I can."
"All right," said Hazel, "but we shan't be able to show you much tonight. I just want to get our rabbits down here as quick as we can and let them settle in and go to sleep."
"I won't be any trouble to you," said Flyairth. "There's a full moon, so I'll be able to tag along quite easily."
"It's no distance, anyway," said Hazel. "We shan't be long. Bluebell and Hlao-roo, and you does--will you stay here until we come back? If the other two burrows are as good as this one, Bluebell, there'll be quite enough room for all of us."
"They're expandable, Hazel-rah, you see," said Bluebell. "The more rabbits you put in them, the bigger they get. And warmer too."
When Hazel, together with Bigwig and Flyairth, left the hole, night had fallen. The cloud had broken up, and the full moon, shining on the snow, gave them plenty of light. As they came off the steep slope and onto the top of the Down, Bigwig stopped, sniffing the air and looking about him.
"Wait a moment, Hazel-rah. There's something--well, something unusual."
Hazel also halted. "Yes, you're right. Whatever it is, I don't like it any more than you do. Still, we can't hang about here. Let's go on slowly and keep a good lookout."
The three rabbits approached the corner of the wood cautiously. They were a short distance away when Bigwig stopped again. "On the path, Hazel-rah. Something black, quite large. Can you see it?"
Hazel went a few yards nearer, peering ahead.
"Yes, I can see it. Surely it can't be what I think it is."
"Whatever it is," said Bigwig, "it's not moving. I don't think it's seen us, do you?"
"No," replied Hazel. "But I don't think it's alive at all."
"A trap?"
"No, it's not a trap. Still, whatever it is, we've got to go past it to get home."
They went forward yard by yard, Flyairth following Hazel somewhat hesitantly, till suddenly they both stopped at the same instant.
/>
Beside the track, motionless in the clear moonlight, lay a man. He was on his side and fully clothed, including boots and a woolen cap. From the scuffled snow, they could see that he had been dragged the short distance from the footpath. His eyes were closed, and his face looked, in some way, distorted.
"Let him alone," said Bigwig. "I don't care whether he's dead or not. Let's just let him alone."
Flyairth, who was plainly nervous, remained with Bigwig, while Hazel went a little closer, sniffing. "He's not dead. I can just feel his breath. But I agree about letting him alone."
"Look at the snow," said Bigwig. "D'you see? There were two of them walking together side by side. Then this one fell down--suddenly, I'd say--and the other dragged him to where he is now and then left him and went on, the same way that they'd been going."
"Hadn't we better go back?" said Flyairth. "It must be dangerous, surely? Men--even one like this--they're always dangerous."
"No, no, it's all right," said Bigwig impatiently. "Anyway, we're here now."
They turned away and went down into the Honeycomb and through it to the sleeping burrows, where the first rabbit they came upon was Holly.
"Everything all right down at the bottom, Hazel-rah?"
"Yes, fine. This is Flyairth, by the way. She's joining us. What I need just at the moment is to talk to Vilthuril and Fiver. Can you get hold of them, Holly?"
As soon as Vilthuril and Fiver joined them, Hazel and Bigwig took them back into the Honeycomb, to avoid meeting anyone else before they were ready. Flyairth came with them.
"This is going to be a surprise for you, Vilthuril," said Hazel. "Who do you think this is? You'll never guess, so I'll tell you. Flyairth, from Thinial."
Fiver was as much surprised as Vilthuril.
"Why has she come here?" asked Holly. "Does she know about us?"
"No, but she'll tell you all about it herself later. I've told her she can stay, and a few other rabbits she brought with her. What we have to do just now is to get everybody in here ready to go down to the holes at the bottom. Will you tell them?"
The rabbits gathered in the Honeycomb, full of curiosity as Hazel's news spread.
"Who are the other rabbits with her?" Hyzenthlay asked him.
"I'm not sure yet, but just her own family, I think. Her last litter."
"Has she told you how she got here? Or how she's come to be here at all, for the matter of that?"
"It's too long a story to tell now. You can ask her tomorrow. Is everyone here? Let's get on down the hill."
He went across to the mouth of one of the runs, Flyairth and Bigwig following him. As soon as he had got his head outside, however, he stopped dead, listening tensely.
"What is it, Hazel-rah?" asked Bigwig. "What's the matter?"
"A hrududu," replied Hazel, "coming straight up here, very fast. See the lights?"
As he, Flyairth and Bigwig peered from the mouth of the hole, the hrududu approached, bouncing and skidding up the track toward them. Flyairth, trembling, turned and would have bolted back among the rabbits below if Bigwig had not restrained her.
"We're not in danger," said Bigwig sharply. "Pull yourself together. This is no time to go tharn, with everybody wondering what's going on. Keep still."
Flyairth, though she seemed half crazy with terror, did what she was told as the hrududu reached the trees and came to a stop a few yards away.
"It's because of that man lying in the snow," said Bigwig. "They've come for him. That's what it is."
Even before the hrududu had slithered to a halt and begun reversing, two men jumped out and ran over to where the man was lying.
"Get his shoulders, David. I'll take his legs."
"But is he alive?"
"Don't know. Let's get him into the jeep first."
Between them, the two men managed to lift their heavy burden into the jeep.
"Not too fast going back, Alan. I want to have a look at him. Anyway, we don't want to shake him about more than we can help."
The hrududu set off in the direction from which it had come, and quiet returned. It was a considerable time, however, before Hazel and Bigwig took the other rabbits out onto the Down and toward its foot. Flyairth was staggering and could hardly keep up: it was only with the encouragement of Hyzenthlay that she was able to reach the concealed holes at the bottom.
Hazel took several of his veterans into the one where he had left Bluebell and Pipkin. Hyzenthlay, with Flyairth, followed him. The burrow was now crammed full, but no one complained or tried to leave.
Hazel lay down in the dark beside Hyzenthlay. After some time, Vilthuril, close by, whispered to him, "Is Flyairth really here?"
"Yes, just on the other side of me. Do you want to tell her about your secret river in Efrafa?"
"No, not now. It would be better, wouldn't it, if I told her later?"
"Yes, I think you're right. She's better left alone for the moment. She's had enough surprises for one day."
If the other rabbits had been expecting Hazel to speak to them about the newcomers, they were disappointed. Neither he nor Bigwig said anything more by way of explaining Flyairth's arrival. Hazel simply went to sleep, and soon everyone else did the same. Flyairth remained restless and nervous for some time, but as the burrow grew warmer from the natural heat of so many bodies, she gradually relaxed and slept as soundly as the rest. In the middle of the night Hazel woke, slipped outside and went into both the other burrows to be sure that all was well. Finding that it was, he did not go back to his place beside Hyzenthlay but simply went to sleep again where he found himself.
Next day he made no special effort to question Flyairth but, having gone outside in a more or less hopeless attempt to silflay, went back to drowsing underground, like any other rabbit in winter. In the course of the day, several rabbits, both bucks and does, asked him whether he meant to tell them anything about the mysterious circumstances of Flyairth's arrival among them, but he simply replied that they were free to ask her and that the more rabbits she could talk to and get to know, the better for her and for them: as far as he was concerned, she was no different from any other rabbit. Only to Fiver did he say more.
"What do you make of her?"
"There's something unusual about her," replied Fiver. "She's no ordinary rabbit. She's got a lot on her mind: a lot that she's not going to talk about--or not yet, anyway. But whatever it is, she doesn't mean us any harm. And she's not crazy, like that poor Silverweed in Cowslip's warren. I think you're right to leave her alone to settle in and see what happens. Something unusual will happen; I'm sure of that, and so is Vilthuril. But obviously we can't send her away in all this snow and bitter cold. Let's see how she gets on with our rabbits. That'll tell us a good deal, for a start. We don't need to treat her in any special way; or not yet, anyhow."
That afternoon Flyairth approached Hazel on her own account.
"Hazel-rah, why weren't you and Bigwig afraid of the men last night? I was more frightened than I've ever been in my life."
"Oh, well, we're more or less used to them, you see," replied Hazel. "I was sure they wouldn't hurt us."
"But men, as close as that? It's not natural to rabbits. It must be dangerous."
Hazel said nothing more, and after a short time Flyairth asked, "Have all the rabbits come down now?"
"Yes," replied Hazel. "There's no one up there now. We shan't go back until it gets warmer."
"Of course, I didn't get a chance to see very much last night. Will you take me back there? Some of the rabbits have been describing the warren to me, and I'd like to see it again."
"Now?" asked Hazel rather soporifically.
She was downright. "Yes. Well, before it gets dark."
Hazel, good-natured as ever, agreed to go, and persuaded Bigwig to join them. The three set out, climbed the steep slope and went across to the footpath and the trees. The snow, frozen hard, was still lying, and Flyairth looked closely at the prints left by the men and the hrududu.
&nbs
p; "Do men walk along this path very often?" she asked.
"In summer they do, quite a lot."
Flyairth followed them the few yards to the holes leading down into the Honeycomb. She was full of admiration and looked closely at the run in which Bigwig had fought and beaten General Woundwort.
"These Efrafan rabbits--they'd come to beat you, had they, and take the warren away from you?"
They told her about the dog, and how Hazel had been brought back from the farm.
"That's wonderful," she said. "What courage! Weren't you afraid?"
"We were all of us afraid," said Hazel. Not wishing to seem to be boasting, he went on, "It was really El-ahrairah who saved us. Dandelion'll tell you all about it, if you care to ask him. He's the rabbit for telling stories."
After they had looked at the sleeping burrows and were about to go back down the hill, she paused at the mouth of Kehaar's run and again gazed about her.
"You say men come along that path--as close to you as that? And they haven't done you any harm?"
"There's no particular reason why they should," answered Bigwig. "They don't grow flayrah or anything up here."
"But they must know you're here. The Blindness--aren't you afraid of the Blindness?"
"No. I don't think the men mind us being here."
"Men could destroy you all by giving you the Blindness. You know that?"
"They might, I suppose," replied Hazel, "but we don't think they will."
Flyairth said no more on the subject. As they went back down the hill, she returned to the question of how Bigwig had known her name and the name of Thinial. She evidently felt sure he could tell her more if he wanted to, but although he did not actually rebuff her, she got no more out of him.