Watership Down (22 page)

20.
   
A Honeycomb and a Mouse

His face was that of one who has undergone a long journey.

The Epic of Gilgamesh

In the Sandleford warren, Holly had been a rabbit of consequence. He was greatly relied upon by the Threarah and had more than once carried out difficult orders with a good deal of courage. During the early spring, when a fox had moved into a neighboring copse, Holly, with two or three volunteers, had kept it steadily under observation for several days and reported all its movements, until one evening it left as suddenly as it had come. Although he had decided on his own initiative to arrest Bigwig, he had not the reputation of being vindictive. He was, rather, a stander of no nonsense who knew when duty was done and did it himself. Sound, unassuming, conscientious, a bit lacking in the rabbit sense of mischief, he was something of the born second-in-command. There could have been no question of trying to persuade him to leave the warren with Hazel and Fiver. To find him under Watership Down at all, therefore, was astonishing enough. But to find him in such a condition was all but incredible.

       
In the first moments after they had recognized the poor creature under the hemlock, Hazel and Dandelion felt completely stupefied, as though they had come upon a squirrel underground or a stream that flowed uphill. They could not trust their senses. The voice in the dark had proved not to be supernatural, but the reality was frightening enough. How could Captain Holly be here, at the foot of the down? And what could have reduced him--of all rabbits--to this state?

       
Hazel pulled himself together. Whatever the explanation might be, the immediate need was to take first things first. They were in open country, at night, away from any refuge but an overgrown ditch, with a rabbit who smelled of blood, was crying uncontrollably and looked as though he could not move. There might very well be a stoat on his trail at this moment. If they were going to help him they had better be quick.

       
"Go and tell Bigwig who it is," he said to Dandelion, "and come back with him. Send Speedwell up the hill to the others and tell him to make it clear that no one is to come down. They couldn't help and it would only add to the risk."

       
Dandelion had no sooner gone than Hazel became aware that something else was moving in the hedge. But he had no time to wonder what it might be, for almost immediately another rabbit appeared and limped to where Holly was lying.

       
"You must help us if you can," he said to Hazel. "We've had a very bad time and my master's ill. Can we get underground here?"

       
Hazel recognized him as one of the rabbits who had come to arrest Bigwig, but he did not know his name.

       
"Why did you stay in the hedge and leave him to crawl about in the open?" he asked.

       
"I ran away when I heard you coming," replied the other rabbit. "I couldn't get the captain to move. I thought you were elil and there was no point in staying to be killed. I don't think I could fight a field mouse."

       
"Do you know me?" said Hazel. But before the other could answer, Dandelion and Bigwig came out of the darkness. Bigwig stared at Holly for a moment and then crouched before him and touched noses.

       
"Holly, this is Thlayli," he said. "You were calling me."

       
Holly did not answer, but only stared fixedly back at him. Bigwig looked up. "Who's that who came with him?" he said. "Oh, it's you, Bluebell. How many more of you?"

       
"No more," said Bluebell. He was about to go on when Holly spoke.

       
"Thlayli," he said. "So we
have
found you."

       
He sat up with difficulty and looked around at them.

       
"You're Hazel, aren't you?" he asked. "And that's--oh, I should know, but I'm in very poor shape, I'm afraid."

       
"It's Dandelion," said Hazel. "Listen--I can see that you're exhausted, but we can't stay here. We're in danger. Can you come with us to our holes?"

       
"Captain," said Bluebell, "do you know what the first blade of grass said to the second blade of grass?"

       
Hazel looked at him sharply, but Holly replied, "Well?"

       
"It said, 'Look, there's a rabbit! We're in danger!' "

       
"This is no time--" began Hazel.

       
"Don't silence him," said Holly. "We wouldn't be here at all without his blue tit's chatter. Yes, I can go now. Is it far?"

       
"Not too far," said Hazel, thinking it all too likely that Holly would never get there.

       
It took a long time to climb the hill. Hazel made them separate, himself remaining with Holly and Bluebell while Bigwig and Dandelion went out to either side. Holly was forced to stop several times and Hazel, full of fear, had hard work to suppress his impatience. Only when the moon began to rise--the edge of its great disc growing brighter and brighter on the skyline below and behind them--did he at last beg Holly to hurry. As he spoke he saw, in the white light, Pipkin coming down to meet them.

       
"What are you doing?" he said sternly. "I told Speedwell no one was to come down."

       
"It isn't Speedwell's fault," said Pipkin. "You stood by me at the river, so I thought I'd come and look for you, Hazel. Anyway, the holes are just here. Is it really Captain Holly you've found?"

       
Bigwig and Dandelion approached.

       
"I'll tell you what," said Bigwig. "These two will need to rest for a good long time. Suppose Pipkin here and Dandelion take them to an empty burrow and stay with them as long as they want? The rest of us had better keep away until they feel better."

       
"Yes, that's best," said Hazel. "I'll go up with you now."

       
They ran the short distance to the thorn trees. All the other rabbits were above ground, waiting and whispering together.

       
"Shut up," said Bigwig, before anyone had asked a question. "Yes, it is Holly, and Bluebell is with him--no one else. They're in a bad way and they're not to be troubled. We'll leave this hole empty for them. Now I'm going underground myself and so will you if you've got any sense."

       
But before he went, Bigwig turned to Hazel and said, "You got yourself out of that ditch down there instead of me, didn't you, Hazel? I shan't forget that."

       
Hazel remembered Buckthorn's leg and took him down with him. Speedwell and Silver followed them.

       
"I say, what's happened, Hazel?" asked Silver. "It must be something very bad. Holly would never leave the Threarah."

       
"I don't know," replied Hazel, "and neither does anyone else yet. We'll have to wait until tomorow. Holly may stop running, but I don't think Bluebell will. Now let me alone to do this leg of Buckthorn's."

       
The wound was a great deal better and soon Hazel fell asleep.

       
The next day was as hot and cloudless as the last. Neither Pipkin nor Dandelion was at morning silflay; and Hazel relentlessly took the others up to the beech hanger to go on with the digging. He questioned Strawberry about the great burrow and learned that its ceiling, as well as being vaulted with a tangle of fibers, was strengthened by roots going vertically down into the floor. He remarked that he had not noticed these.

       
"There aren't many, but they're important," said Strawberry. "They take a lot of the load. If it weren't for those roots the ceiling would fall after heavy rain. On stormy nights you could sense the extra weight in the earth above, but there was no danger."

       
Hazel and Bigwig went underground with him. The beginnings of the new warren had been hollowed out among the roots of one of the beech trees. It was still no more than a small, irregular cave with one entrance. They set to work to enlarge it, digging between the roots and tunneling upward to make a second run that would emerge inside the wood. After a time Strawberry stopped digging and began moving about between the roots, sniffing, biting and scuffling in the soil with his front paws. Hazel supposed that he was tired and pretending to be busy while he had a rest, but at length he came back to them and said that he had some suggestions.

       
"It's this way," he explained. "There isn't a big spread of fine roots above here. That was a lucky chance in the great burrow and I don't think you can expect to find it again. But, all the same, we can do pretty well with what we've got."

       
"And what
have
we got?" asked Blackberry, who had come down the run while he was talking.

       
"Well, we've got several thick roots that go straight down--more than there were in the great burrow. The best thing will be to dig round them and leave them. They shouldn't be gnawed through and taken out. We shall need them if we're going to have a hall of any size."

       
"Then our hall will be full of these thick, vertical roots?" asked Hazel. He felt disappointed.

       
"Yes, it will," said Strawberry, "but I can't see that it's going to be any the worse for that. We can go in and out among them and they won't hinder anyone who's talking or telling a story. They'll make the place warmer and they'll help to conduct sound from above, which might be useful some time or other."

       
The excavation of the hall (which came to be known among them as the Honeycomb) turned out to be something of a triumph for Strawberry. Hazel contented himself with organizing the diggers and left it to Strawberry to say what was actually to be done. The work went on in shifts and the rabbits took it in turns to feed, play and lie in the sun above ground. Throughout the day the solitude remained unbroken by noise, men, tractors, or even cattle, and they began to feel still more deeply what they owed to Fiver's insight. By the late afternoon the big burrow was beginning to take shape. At the north end, the beech roots formed a kind of irregular colonnade. This gave way to a more open central space: and beyond, where there were no supporting roots, Strawberry left blocks of the earth untouched, so that the south end consisted of three or four separate bays. These narrowed into low-roofed runs that led away into sleeping burrows.

       
Hazel, much better pleased now that he could see for himself how the business was going to turn out, was sitting with Silver in the mouth of the run when suddenly there was a stamping of "Hawk! Hawk!" and a dash for cover by the rabbits outside. Hazel, safe where he was, remained looking out past the shadow of the wood to the open, sunlit grass beyond. The kestrel sailed into view and took up station, the black-edged flange of its tail bent down and its pointed wings beating rapidly as it searched the down below.

       
"But do you think it
would
attack us?" asked Hazel, watching it drop lower and recommence its poised fluttering. "Surely it's too small?"

       
"You're probably right," replied Silver. "All the same, would you care to go out there and start feeding?"

       
"I'd like to try standing up to some of these elil," said Bigwig, who had come up the run behind them. "We're afraid of too many. But a bird from the air would be awkward, especially if it came fast. It might get the better of even a big rabbit if it took him by surprise."

       
"See the mouse?" said Silver suddenly. "There, look. Poor little beast."

       
They could all see the field mouse, which was exposed in a patch of smooth grass. It had evidently strayed too far from its hole and now could not tell what to do. The kestrel's shadow had not passed over it, but the rabbits' sudden disappearance had made it uneasy and it was pressed to the ground, looking uncertainly this way and that. The kestrel had not yet seen it, but could hardly fail to do so as soon as it moved.

       
"Any moment now," said Bigwig callously.

       
On an impulse, Hazel hopped down the bank and went a little way into the open grass. Mice do not speak Lapine, but there is a very simple, limited
lingua franca
of the hedgerow and woodland. Hazel used it now.

       
"Run," he said. "Here; quick."

       
The mouse looked at him, but did not move. Hazel spoke again and the mouse began suddenly to run toward him as the kestrel turned and slid sideways and downward. Hazel hastened back to the hole. Looking out, he saw the mouse following him. When it had almost reached the foot of the bank it scuttered over a fallen twig with two or three green leaves. The twig turned, one of the leaves caught the sunlight slanting through the trees and Hazel saw it flash for an instant. Immediately the kestrel came lower in an oblique glide, closed its wings and dropped.