"Courts and camps are the only places to learn the world in.... Take the tone ofthe company that you are in.
The Earl of Chesterfield, Letters to His SonThe great burrow was less crowded than when they had left it. Nildro-hain wasthe first rabbit they met. She was among a group of three or four fine does whowere talking quietly together and seemed to be feeding as well. There was a smellof greenstuff. Evidently some kind of food was available underground, like theThrearah's lettuce. Hazel stopped to speak to Nildro-hain. She asked whether hehad gone as far as the well pit and the El-ahrairah of Laburnum.
"Yes, we did," said Hazel. "It's something quite strange to me, I'm afraid. ButI'd rather admire you and your friends than stones on a wall."As he said this, he noticed that Cowslip had joined them and that Strawberrywas talking to him quietly. He caught the words "never been near a Shape" and amoment later Cowslip replied, "Well, it makes no difference from our point ofview."Hazel suddenly felt tired and depressed. He heard Blackberry behind Cowslip'ssleek, heavy shoulder and went across to him.
"Come out into the grass," he said quietly. "Bring anyone else who'll come."At that moment Cowslip turned to him and said, "You'll be glad of somethingto eat now. I'll show you what we've got down here.""One or two of us are just going to silflay,"* said Hazel.
"Oh, it's still raining much too hard for that," said Cowslip, as though therecould be no two ways about it. "We'll feed you here.""I should be sorry to quarrel over it," said Hazel firmly, "but some of us need tosilflay. We're used to it, and rain doesn't bother us."Cowslip seemed taken aback for a moment Then he laughed.
The phenomenon of laughter is unknown to animals; though it is possible thatdogs and elephants may have some inkling of it. The effect on Hazel andBlackberry was overwhelming. Hazel's first idea was that Cowslip was showingthe symptom of some kind of disease. Blackberry clearly thought that he might begoing to attack them and backed away. Cowslip said nothing, but his eerielaughter continued. Hazel and Blackberry turned and scuttled up the nearest runas though he had been a ferret. Halfway up they met Pipkin, who was smallenough first to let them pass and then to turn round and follow them.
The rain was still falling steadily. The night was dark and, for May, cold. Theyall three hunched themselves in the grass and nibbled while the rain ran off theirfur in streams.
"My goodness, Hazel," said Blackberry, "did you really want to silflay? This isterrible! I was just going to eat whatever it is they have and then go to sleep.
What's the idea?""I don't know," replied Hazel. "I suddenly felt I had to get out and I wantedyour company. I can see what's troubling Fiver; though he'll get over it, I dare say.
There is something strange about these rabbits. Do you know they push stonesinto the wall?""They do what?"Hazel explained. Blackberry was as much at a loss as he had been himself. "ButI'll tell you another thing," he said. "Bigwig wasn't so far wrong. They do sing likethe birds. I was in a burrow belonging to a rabbit called Betony. His doe has alitter and she was making a noise over them rather like a robin in autumn. Tosend them to sleep, she said. It made me feel queer, I can tell you.""And what do you think of them, Hlao-roo?" asked Hazel.
"They're very nice and kind," answered Pipkin, "but I'll tell you how they strikeme. They all seem terribly sad. I can't think why, when they're so big and strongand have this beautiful warren. But they put me in mind of trees in November. Iexpect I'm being silly, though, Hazel. You brought us here and I'm sure it must bea fine, safe place.""No, you're not being silly. I hadn't realized it, but you're perfectly right. Theyall seem to have something on their minds.""But after all," said Blackberry, "we don't know why they're so few. They don'tfill the warren, anything like. Perhaps they've had some sort of trouble that's leftthem sad.""We don't know because they don't tell us. But if we're going to stay here we'vegot to learn to get on with them. We can't fight them: they're too big. And wedon't want them fighting us.""I don't believe they can fight, Hazel," said Pipkin. "Although they're so big,they don't seem like fighters to me. Not like Bigwig and Silver.""You notice a lot, don't you, Hlao-roo?" said Hazel. "Do you notice it's rainingharder than ever? I've got enough grass in my stomach for a bit. We'll go downagain now, but let's keep to ourselves for a while.""Why not sleep?" said Blackberry. "It's over a night and a day now and I'mdropping."They returned down a different hole and soon found a dry, empty burrow,where they curled up together and slept in the warmth of their own tired bodies.
When Hazel woke he perceived at once that it was morning -- some time aftersunrise, by the smell of it. The scent of apple blossom was plain enough. Then hepicked up the fainter smells of buttercups and horses. Mingled with these cameanother. Although it made him uneasy, he could not tell for some moments whatit was. A dangerous smell, an unpleasant smell, a totally unnatural smell -- quiteclose outside: a smoke smell -- something was burning. Then he rememberedhow Bigwig, after his reconnaissance on the previous day, had spoken of the littlewhite sticks in the grass. That was it. A man had been walking over the groundoutside. That must have been what had awakened him.
Hazel lay in the warm, dark burrow with a delightful sense of security. Hecould smell the man. The man could not smell him. All the man could smell wasthe nasty smoke he was making. He fell to thinking of the Shape in the well pit,and then dropped into a drowsy half-dream, in which El-ahrairah said that it wasall a trick of his to disguise himself as Poison Tree and put the stones in the wall,to engage Strawberry's attention while he himself was getting acquainted withNildro-hain.
Pipkin stirred and turned in his sleep, murmuring, "Sayn lay narn, Marli?" ("Isgroundsel nice, Mother?") and Hazel, touched to think that he must be dreamingof old days, rolled over on his side to give him room to settle again. At thatmoment, however, he heard a rabbit approaching down some run close by.
Whoever it was, he was calling -- and stamping as well, Hazel noticed -- in anunnatural way. The sound, as Blackberry had said, was not unlike birdsong. As hecame closer, Hazel could distinguish the word.
"Flayrah! Flayrah!"The voice was Strawberry's. Pipkin and Blackberry were waking, more at thestamping than the voice, which was thin and novel, not striking through theirsleep to any deep instinct. Hazel slipped out of the burrow into the run and atonce came upon Strawberry busily thumping a hind leg on the hard earth floor.
"My mother used to say, 'If you were a horse the ceiling would fall down,'" saidHazel. "Why do you stamp underground?""To wake everyone," answered Strawberry. "The rain went on nearly all night,you know. We generally sleep right through the early morning if it's roughweather. But it's turned fine now.""Why actually wake everybody, though?""Well, the man's gone by and Cowslip and I thought the flayrah ought not to lieabout for long. If we don't go and get it the rats and rooks come and I don't likefighting rats. I expect it's all in the day's work to an adventurous lot like you.""I don't understand,""Well, come along with me. I'm just going back along this run for Nildro-hain.
We haven't got a litter at present, you see, so she'll come out with the rest of us."Other rabbits were making their way along the run and Strawberry spoke toseveral of them, more than once remarking that he would enjoy taking their newfriends across the field. Hazel began to realize that he liked Strawberry. On theprevious day he had been too tired and bewildered to size him up. But now thathe had had a good sleep, he could see that Strawberry was really a harmless,decent sort of fellow. He was touchingly devoted to the beautiful Nildro-hain; andhe evidently had moods of gaiety and a great capacity for enjoyment. As theycame up into the May morning he hopped over the ditch and skipped into thelong grass as blithe as a squirrel. He seemed quite to have lost the preoccupied airthat had troubled Hazel the night before. Hazel himself paused in the mouth ofthe hole, as he always had behind the bramble curtain at home, and looked outacross the valley.
The sun, risen behind the copse, threw long shadows from the treessouthwestward across the field. The wet grass glittered and nearby a nut treesparkled iridescent, winking and gleaming as its branches moved in the lightwind. The brook was swollen and Hazel's ears could distinguish the deeper,smoother sound, changed since the day before. Between the copse and the brook,the slope was covered with pale lilac lady's-smocks, each standing separately inthe grass, a frail stalk of bloom above a spread of cressy leaves. The breezedropped and the little valley lay completely still, held in long beams of light andenclosed on either side by the lines of the woods. Upon this clear stillness, likefeathers on the surface of a pool, fell the calling of a cuckoo.
"It's quite safe, Hazel," said Cowslip behind him in the hole. "I know you'reused to taking a good look round when you silflay, but here we generally gostraight out."Hazel did not mean to alter his ways or take instructions from Cowslip.
However, no one had pushed him and there was no point in bickering over trifles.
He hopped across the ditch to the further bank and looked round him again.
Several rabbits were already running down the field toward a distant hedgedappled white with great patches of maybloom. He saw Bigwig and Silver andwent to join them, flicking the wet off his front paws step by step, like a cat.
"I hope your friends have been looking after you as well as these fellows havelooked after us, Hazel," said Bigwig. "Silver and I really feel at home again. If youask me, I reckon we've all made a big change for the better. Even if Fiver's wrongand nothing terrible has happened back at the old warren, I'd still say we're betteroff here. Are you coming along to feed?""What is this business about going to feed, do you know?" asked Hazel.
"Haven't they told you? Apparently there's flayrah to be had down the fields.
Most of them go every day."(Rabbits usually eat grass, as everyone knows. But more appetizing food -- e.g.,lettuce or carrots, for which they will make an expedition or rob a garden -- isflayrah.)"Flayrah? But isn't it rather late in the morning to raid a garden?" said Hazel,glancing at the distant roofs of the farm behind the trees.
"No, no," said one of the warren rabbits, who had overheard him. "Theflayrah's left in the field, usually near the place where the brook rises. We eithereat it there or bring it back -- or both. But we'll have to bring some back today.
The rain was so bad last night that no one went out and we ate almost everythingin the warren."The brook ran through the hedgerow, and there was a cattle wade in the gap.
After the rain the edges were a swamp, with water standing in every hoofprint.
The rabbits gave them a wide berth and came through by another gap further up,close to the gnarled trunk of an old crab-apple tree. Beyond, surrounding athicket of rushes, stood an enclosure of posts and rails half as high as a man.
Inside it, the kingcups bloomed and the brook whelmed up from its source.
On the pasture nearby Hazel could see scattered, russet-and-orange-coloredfragments, some with feathery light green foliage showing up against the darkergrass. They gave off a pungent, horsy smell, as if freshly cut. It attracted him. Hebegan to salivate and stopped to pass hraka. Cowslip, coming up nearby, turnedtoward him with his unnatural smile. But now Hazel, in his eagerness, paid noattention. Powerfully drawn, he ran out of the hedgerow toward the scatteredground. He came to one of the fragments, sniffed it and tasted it. It was carrot.
Hazel had eaten various roots in his life, but only once before had he tastedcarrot, when a cart horse had spilled a nose bag near the home warren. Thesewere old carrots, some half eaten already by mice or fly. But to the rabbits theywere redolent with luxury, a feast to drive all other feelings out of mind. Hazel satnibbling and biting, the rich, full taste of the cultivated roots filling him with awave of pleasure. He hopped about the grass, gnawing one piece after another,eating the green tops along with the slices. No one interrupted him. There seemedto be plenty for all. From time to time, instinctively, he looked up and sniffed thewind, but his caution was half-hearted. "If elil come, let them," he thought. "I'llfight the lot. I couldn't run, anyway. What a country! What a warren! No wonderthey're all as big as hares and smell like princes!" "Hello, Pipkin! Fill yourself upto the ears! No more shivering on the banks of streams for you, old chap!""He won't know how to shiver in a week or two," said Hawkbit, with his mouthfull. "I feel so much better for this! I'd follow you anywhere, Hazel. I wasn'tmyself in the heather that night. It's bad when you know you can't getunderground. I hope you understand.""It'............