The Witch Family (10 page)

"Be good!" she muttered sarcastically. "That's what that banquisher ordered. What I'm doing is, I'm turning into a regular old rocking-chair woman, losing my witch skill." She rocked so hard for a moment that the chair nearly went over backward. Seizing her telescope again, she studied the painting field. "I'm not Head Witch of all the witches for nothing. Am I?

"No!" she croaked. Her croak was so awful that it produced a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning. There was also a loud foreboding buzz to which she paid no heed, nor to the bite she suddenly received. Shouting "Heh-heh!" Old Witch jumped up, cavorted around the porch, did the backanally, and again seized her telescope. This telescope was so strong and magical that if someone winked twenty miles away, Old Witch could see the wink. Again she turned it upon the painting field.

From his camouflage place on the porch Malachi did not need a telescope to see what Old Witch saw. With his two compound telescopic eyes, he could see much farther than people, even witch people, do. Malachi had no difficulty in spotting now what was employing Old Witch's attention.

Hundreds of little rabbits, painting the eggs for Easter in their painting field. That is the scene that Old Witch with her telescope, and Malachi with his telescopic eyes, could see. To Malachi, the sight was a worry and a responsibility. To Old Witch it was a pleasant and enticing one, and she made crunching sounds with her two long teeth. She brushed the air around her head as though ridding it of what sounded like an angry bumblebee, though she could not see it. "That bee be not going to get the better of me!" she muttered with irritation.

Now, as has been said before, rabbits were what this old witch liked best in the world to eat. She was also fond of their painted Easter eggs. The more prettily painted they were, the better she liked them, and she ate shell and all. Yes, and she needed rabbits for purposes other than for plain eating. Their paws
she needed for charms to give to captured princes to help them win the pretty princess. In return the prince would have to forfeit his firstborn child to her or else be blinded in the brambles. Catching rabbits had been Old Witch's greatest wickedness in the days before Amy had banished her
to the bare and bleak glass hill. And Old Witch, watching the rabbits below in the painting field, made up her mind to fly down the glass hill on her broomstick and steal rabbits. She chose not to remind herself that if Amy discovered this wickedness (and how could Amy help but discover it, since Amy was in charge of all that was going on?), she would have to forfeit the right to be the real Halloween witch who sails across the sky that night.

"On to the painting field!" she screeched. She liked this rallying cry and repeated it again and again.

Old Witch got her powerful old weather-beaten broomstick from behind the door. She rode around the room on it saying, "Heh-heh!" and causing Little Witch Girl and Weeny Witchie to laugh miniature wicked "heh-hehs." Then she uttered the following abracadabra:

"Abracadabra
A B C
What is it that I do see?
Hotch
Cotch
In the Potch
Rabbits, rabbits
for wicked ME."

Then she said, "Tcluck-tluck," to her broomstick and she screeched, "Oh, the hurly-burly!" Old Tom leaped on the broomstick, and whee-ee! off they flew.

Though it was early April, a terrible, cold wind sprang up. Black clouds darkened the sky, thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed. Down below in the painting field, at these awful manifestations, signs, and portents, the rabbits pricked up their long antennae ears. Their alarm was furthered, their fears confirmed by the arrival of Malachi, the bumblebee, who had shot down from the glass hill like a streak of neon light, preceding Old Witch by minutes only and buzzing loudly as he came.

"
WICKED OLD WITCH BE ON THE WAY.
THUS SHE DISOBEYS THE RULES OF AMY!
SHE COMES! MY BITES SHE HEEDS NOT!
MY WARNINGS SHE HEEDS NOT! I PROPHESY YOUR EXTINCTION IF YOU DO NOT ACT SWIFTLY. TO YOUR POSTS, RABBITS. I WILL TO MINE. I MUST NOT LONG LEAVE LITTLE WITCH GIRL OR WEENY WITCH.
"

Since Malachi spelled all these words as he frenziedly darted here and there, and since this was a much longer speech than he ordinarily gave, the rabbits recognized their dire need for action. Buzzing a final portentous warning in Headman Rabbit's ear, "
RABBITS, BEWARE
!" Malachi flew back, a long streak of golden light against the blackened sky, to his camouflage place on the witch's porch.

Rabbits are very clever animals. They knew that Old Witch was their worst enemy. They knew how much she liked to catch rabbits and pop them into her old black shawl, to make into a stew, if not to eat them whole as they were! And also, they knew she liked to make use of them in abracadabras and incantations, all of which were horrible for rabbits. Rabbits are not interested in being charms for princes, however much in danger the princes may be. Nor do they like to have one of their paws hanging from someone's key ring. They like to lead their own life, whatever it may be. In this case it was painting Easter eggs.

Not long ago, Head Easter Rabbit had had a message from Amy saying that Old Witch was good now and that the rabbits need not worry about her except, possibly, on Halloween. Halloween was the only time that Old Witch was going to be allowed to be the wicked old witch, and Amy advised all rabbits to hide then, just plain hide. Still, Head Rabbit worried anyway. He rightfully knew Old Witch too well to take any chances, and he had warned all rabbits to be on guard against her at all times. Even while the rabbits were painting their eggs, he had guards stationed all over the painting field in case Old Witch should return. He often held witch drills, just as you have fire drills, and every single rabbit—man, mother, and child—knew what he or she was expected to do in case of witch emergency.

So now, at Malachi's terrifying predictions, Head Rabbit sounded the witch alarm. He blew the trumpet. He clanged the cymbals, and every single rabbit ran to his post and did what he had been rehearsed to do.

First they rolled their painted eggs (the child rabbits helped with this job) into a great and vaulted cave. Mothers and small rabbit children stayed there. Then, from out of the cave, the rabbits rolled hundreds of round rocks, which they had long ago, in the slack season, painted to look exactly like Easter eggs in case Old Witch should return and with which they hoped to deceive her.

Then they got out all the Easter bunnies, the toy ones stuffed with sawdust and cotton, which they were going to deliver to Amy and Clarissa and other boys and girls on Easter eve. They stood these toy rabbits here and there all over the painting field and placed wet brushes in their paws. Beside each of the toy rabbits, which they hoped would be taken for real ones, they placed piles of the pretty painted rocks, which they hoped would be taken for the real painted Easter eggs.

They finished these artful preparations just in the nick of time, for the awful "heh-heh" of the wicked old witch could now plainly be heard. Every single rabbit then, with the exception of one, Brave Jack by name, who was to be the signal corps all by himself, dived into the cave.

This cave was situated in the middle of the painting field. It had once been a cyclone cellar belonging to a lovely old mansion, which had burned down years ago. It was hidden by high bushes, so it was unknown to man and beast, except for the rabbits and their good friends, the titmice, and other little field animals. Even Old Witch knew nothing about this cave. She could not get into it with abracadabra because she did not know about it. You cannot ask to get into something with magic if you do not know that it exists.

"Heh-heh!" she cackled as she idled her broomstick high over the silent field. Her greedy eyes could now, without the help of her telescope, take in the tempting sight of all the little rabbits (toy ones) stationed all around with piles of painted eggs (rocks) beside them.

If only Old Witch would gather up the toy rabbits and rock eggs in her greed and never know the difference!

It was as still as night in the painting field. Brave Jack was in position, alerted to give the rabbits in their hideout news, warnings, and general information concerning Old Witch.

"Who will be the guard?" Head Rabbit had asked.

"I will," Brave Jack had quickly answered—to everyone's relief. Rabbits are very timid, and none of them would
like
the job of staying outside in the danger, instead of inside in a nice safe cyclone cellar that—they hoped—Old Witch knew nothing about. Brave Jack was as timid as all the rest. But someone had to say, "I will," and he had been the one to say it. This shows that he had a special sort of bravery way inside upon which he could count, timid or not, in any sort of rough pinch such as this, the coming of great Old Witch. So, he took up his post beside a small, secret passageway, hidden by a pot of green paint, that led into the main one to the cyclone cellar. If need be, and if he had time to do so, he could escape this way.

The plot was for Brave Jack to look like a toy rabbit. He was to stand in the grass without moving, his nose not twitching, tuft of tail not twitching either, eyes not blinking, whiskers stiff, amidst all the make-believe rabbits who were supposed to look real. This he did. He desperately hoped that Old Witch would not pick him out from all the other rabbits who were really toys. The clever real rabbits had flavored the sawdust of the fake ones with bouillon and sage, and had even added a little parsley, so they would taste like stew, Old Witch's favorite dish. But Jack had not seasoned himself with sage and parsley. He had, instead, rubbed himself all over with henbane, a deadly poison, in case Old Witch should grab him. And he did his best to look more like a toy than the real toy ones did, a hard thing for him to do with his heart pounding at the rate of a mile a minute and with the sound of "heh-heh" growing nearer and nearer.

Brave Jack held a little shovel in his hand. With this he was to thump signals to those below. In a panic he went over the signals in his mind. One thump, here Old Witch is. Two thumps, roll rocks in front of entrance way, for she is at it. Three, she is getting in anyway—get ready to fight. Four thumps, Brave Jack himself is in grave danger, and if he does not thump again four times within two minutes, they may have to send up another sentinel. And five, all clear, she's gone.

Brave Jack certainly did have a great deal on his mind. Suppose he mixed up any of the first four with number five! The rabbits would come tumbling out, and there Old Witch would be! Well, he must not think of that and he must not get confused.

Now, having taken in the whole picture and having idled and drooled long enough, suddenly Old Witch swooped down. In a great blow, with gusts of wind that whistled through the pines and tall oaks of the painting field, she came. Frightened birds flew blindly hither and thither, and some, blown against the huge trunks of the oak trees, were knocked unconscious and fell stunned to the ground.

But Old Witch was not interested in knocked-out birds. She was only interested in juicy little fat rabbits and their pretty painted eggs.

Thump! went Jack's shovel, giving the signal that meant, she's here! And, thump! went his heart, and the hearts of all the real, right, regular, alive rabbits down below as they realized that their enemy was riding around above them in the painting field.

"Heh-heh! Hi-hi! he-he! ho-ho!"

What an awful laugh Old Witch had! It could be heard as far away as Garden Lane, where, in the room high up behind the ginkgo tree, Amy, with her friend Clarissa, was still drawing eggs and rabbits and a great old witch in their midst.

It had suddenly grown dark, and the girls had had to turn on the light. "O-o-oh!" said Clarissa. "It's spooky. Did you say that Old Witch catched any rabbits?"

Amy did not answer. "Did you hear that?" she asked solemnly. "
That
sounded like Old Witch. Besides, it's thundering, I think."

So, she and Clarissa got under an old soft rose and blue silk quilt, and they hid.