Watership Down (52 page)

Bigwig's first impulse was to fight Woundwort on the spot. He realized immediately that this would be futile and would only bring the whole place round his ears. There was nothing to do but obey. He followed Woundwort through the undergrowth and into the shade of the bridle path. Despite the sunset, the evening seemed heavy with cloud and among the trees it was sultry and gray. The thunder was building up. He looked at Woundwort and waited.

       
"You were out of the Near Hind burrows this afternoon?" began Woundwort.

       
"Yes, sir," replied Bigwig. He still disliked addressing Woundwort as "sir," but since he was supposed to be an Efrafan officer, he could not very well do otherwise. However, he did not add that Chervil had given him permission. He had not been accused of anything as yet.

       
"Where did you go?"

       
Bigwig swallowed his annoyance. No doubt Woundwort knew perfectly well where he had been.

       
"I went to the Left Flank Mark, sir. I was in their burrows."

       
"Why did you go?"

       
"To pass the time and learn something from listening to the officers."

       
"Did you go anywhere else?"

       
"No, sir."

       
"You met one of the Left Flank Owsla--a rabbit named Groundsel."

       
"Very likely. I didn't learn all their names."

       
"Have you ever seen that rabbit before?"

       
"No, sir. How could I?"

       
There was a pause.

       
"May I ask what this is all about, sir?" said Bigwig.

       
"I'll ask the questions," said Woundwort. "Groundsel has seen
you
before. He knew you by the fur on your head. Where do you think he saw you?"

       
"I've no idea."

       
"Have you ever run from a fox?"

       
"Yes, sir, a few days ago, while I was coming here."

       
"You led it onto some other rabbits and it killed one of them. Is that correct?"

       
"I didn't intend to lead it onto them. I didn't know they were there."

       
"You didn't tell us anything about this?"

       
"It never occurred to me. There's nothing wrong in running from a fox."

       
"You've caused the death of an Efrafan officer."

       
"Quite by accident. And the fox might have got him anyway, even if I'd not been there."

       
"It wouldn't," said Woundwort. "Mallow wasn't the rabbit to run onto a fox. Foxes aren't dangerous to rabbits who know their business."

       
"I'm sorry the fox got him, sir. It was a stroke of very bad luck."

       
Woundwort stared at him out of his great, pale eyes.

       
"Then one more question, Thlayli. That patrol was on the track of a band of rabbits--strangers. What do you know about them?"

       
"I saw their tracks too, about that time. I can't tell you any more than that."

       
"You weren't with them?"

       
"If I'd been with them, sir, would I have come to Efrafa?"

       
"I told you I'd ask the questions. You can't tell me where they might have gone?"

       
"I'm afraid I can't, sir."

       
Woundwort stopped staring and sat silent for some time. Bigwig felt that the General was waiting for him to ask if that was all and whether he could now go. He determined to remain silent himself.

       
"Now there's another thing," said Woundwort at last. "About this white bird in the field this morning. You're not afraid of these birds?"

       
"No, sir. I've never heard of one hurting a rabbit."

       
"But they have been known to, for all your wide experience, Thlayli. Anyway, why did you go near it?"

       
Bigwig thought quickly. "To tell you the truth, sir, I think I may have been trying to make an impression on Captain Chervil."

       
"Well, you could have a worse reason. But if you're going to impress anyone, you'd better start with me. The day after tomorrow I'm taking out a Wide Patrol myself. It will cross the iron road and try to pick up traces of those rabbits--the rabbits Mallow would have found if you hadn't gone and blundered into him. So you'd better come along and show us how good you are then."

       
"Very well, sir; I shall be glad to."

       
There was another silence. This time Bigwig decided to make as if to go. He did so, and immediately a fresh question stopped him short.

       
"When you were with Hyzenthlay, did she tell you why she was put into the Near Hind Mark?"

       
"Yes, sir."

       
"I'm not at all sure the trouble's over there, Thlayli. Keep an eye on it. If she'll talk to you, so much the better. Perhaps those does are settling down and perhaps they aren't. I want to know."

       
"Very well, sir," said Bigwig.

       
"That's all," said Woundwort. "You'd better get back to your Mark now."

       
Bigwig made his way into the field. The silflay was almost over, the sun had set and it was growing dark. Heavy clouds dimmed the afterlight. Kehaar was nowhere to be seen. The sentries came in and the Mark began to go underground. Sitting alone in the grass, he waited until the last rabbit had disappeared. There was still no sign of Kehaar. He hopped slowly to the hole. Entering, he knocked into one of the police escort, who was blocking the mouth to make sure that Blackavar did not try to bolt as he was taken down.

       
"Get out of my way, you dirty little tale-bearing bloodsucker," said Bigwig. "Now go and report that," he added

over his shoulder, as he went down to his burrow.

*
     
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*

       
As the light faded from the thick sky, Hazel slipped once more across the hard, bare earth under the railway arch, came out on the north side and sat up to listen. A few moments later Fiver joined him and they crept a little way into the field, toward Efrafa. The air was close and warm and smelled of rain and ripening barley. There was no sound close by, but behind and below them, from the water meadow on the nearer bank of the Test, came faintly the shrill, incessant fussing of a pair of sandpipers. Kehaar flew down from the top of the embankment.

       
"You're sure he said tonight?" asked Hazel for the third time.

       
"Ees bad," said Kehaar. "Maybe dey catch 'im. Ees finish Meester Pigvig. You t'ink?"

       
Hazel made no reply.

       
"I can't tell," said Fiver. "Clouds and thunder. That place up the field--it's like the bottom of a river. Anything could be happening in there."

       
"Bigwig's there. Suppose he's dead? Suppose they're trying to make him tell them--"

       
"Hazel," said Fiver. "Hazel-rah, you won't help him by staying here in the dark and worrying. Quite likely there's nothing wrong. He's just had to sit tight for some reason. Anyway, he won't come tonight--that's certain now--and our rabbits are in danger here. Kehaar can go up tomorrow at dawn and bring us another message."

       
"I dare say you're right," said Hazel, "but I hate to go. Just suppose he were to come. Let Silver take them back and I'll stay here."

       
"You couldn't do any good by yourself, Hazel, even if your leg was all right. You're trying to eat grass that isn't there. Why don't you give it a chance to grow?"

       
They returned under the arch and as Silver came out of the bushes to meet them, they could hear the other rabbits stirring uneasily among the nettles.

       
"We'll have to give it up for tonight, Silver," said Hazel. "We must get them back over the river now, before it's completely dark."

       
"Hazel-rah," said Pipkin, as he slipped by, "it--it is going to be all right, isn't it? Bigwig will come tomorrow, won't he?"

       
"Of course he will," said Hazel, "and we'll all be here to help him. And I'll tell you something else, Hlao-roo. If he doesn't come tomorrow, I'm going into Efrafa myself."

       
"I'll come with you, Hazel-rah," said Pipkin.

*
     
*
     
*

       
Bigwig crouched in his burrow, pressed against Hyzenthlay. He was trembling, but not with cold: the stuffy runs of the Mark were dense with thunder; the air felt like a deep drift of leaves. Bigwig was close to utter nervous exhaustion. Since leaving General Woundwort, he had become more and more deeply entangled in all the age-old terrors of the conspirator. How much had Woundwort discovered? Clearly, there was no information that failed to reach him. He knew that Hazel and the rest had come from the north and crossed the iron road. He knew about the fox. He knew that a gull, which should have been far away at this time of year, was hanging round Efrafa and that he, Bigwig, had deliberately been near it. He knew that Bigwig had made a friend of Hyzenthlay. How long could it be before he took the final step of fitting all these things together? Perhaps he had already done so and was merely waiting to arrest them in his own time?

       
Woundwort had every advantage. He sat secure at the junction of all paths, seeing clearly down each, while he, Bigwig, ludicrous in his efforts to measure up to him as an enemy, clambered clumsily and ignorantly through the undergrowth, betraying himself with every movement. He did not know how to get in touch with Kehaar again. Even if he managed to do so, would Hazel be able to bring the rabbits a second time? Perhaps they had already been spotted by Campion on patrol? To speak to Blackavar would be suspect. To go near Kehaar would be suspect. Through more holes than he could possibly stop, his secret was leaking--pouring--out.

       
There was worse to come.

       
"Thlayli," whispered Hyzenthlay, "do you think you and I and Thethuthinnang could get away tonight? If we fought the sentry at the mouth of the run, we might be able to get clear before a patrol could start after us."

       
"Why?" asked Bigwig. "What makes you ask that?"

       
"I'm frightened. We told the other does, you see, just before the silflay. They were ready to run when the bird attacked the sentries, and then nothing happened. They all know about the plan--Nelthilta and the rest--and it can't be long before the Council find out. Of course we've told them that their lives depend on keeping quiet and that you're going to try again. Thethuthinnang's watching them now: she says she'll do her best not to sleep. But no secret can be kept in Efrafa. It's even possible that one of the does is a spy, although Frith knows we chose them as carefully as we could. We may all be arrested before tomorrow morning."

       
Bigwig tried to think clearly. He could certainly succeed in getting out with a couple of resolute, sensible does. But the sentry--unless he could kill him--would raise the alarm at once and he could not be sure of finding the way to the river in the dark. Even if he did, it was possible that the pursuit might follow him over the plank bridge and into the middle of his unprepared, sleeping friends. And at the best he would have come out of Efrafa with no more than a couple of does, because his nerve had failed. Silver and the others would not know what he had had to endure. They would know only that he had run away.

       
"No, we mustn't give up yet," he said, as gently as he could. "It's the thunder and the waiting that make you feel so much upset. Listen, I promise you that by this time tomorrow you'll be out of Efrafa forever and the others with you. Now go to sleep here for a little while and then go back and help Thethuthinnang. Keep thinking of those high downs and all that I told you. We'll get there--our troubles won't last much longer."

       
As she fell asleep beside him, Bigwig wondered how on earth he was going to fulfill this promise and whether they would be woken by the Council police. "If we are," he thought, "I'll fight until they tear me to bits. They'll make no Blackavar out of me."

*
     
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