The wing trails like a banner in defeat,No more to use the sky for ever but live withfamine and pain a few days.
He is strong and pain is worse to the strongincapacity is worse.
No one but death the redeemer will humble that head,The intrepid readiness, the terrible eyes.
Robinson Jeffers, Hurt HawksHuman beings say, "It never rains but it pours." This is not very apt, for itfrequently does rain without pouring. The rabbits' proverb is better expressed.
They say, "One cloud feels lonely"; and indeed it is true that the appearance of asingle cloud often means that the sky will soon be overcast. However that may be,the very next day provided a dramatic second opportunity to put Hazel's idea intopractice.
It was early morning and the rabbits were beginning to silflay, coming up intoclear gray silence. The air was still chilly. There was a good deal of dew and nowind. Five or six wild duck flew overhead in a swiftly moving V, intent on somefar-off destination. The sound made by their wings came down distinctly,diminishing as they went away southward. The silence returned. With the meltingof the last of the twilight there grew a kind of expectancy and tension, as though itwere thawing snow about to slide from a sloping roof. Then the whole down andall below it, earth and air, gave way to the sunrise. As a bull, with a slight butirresistible movement, tosses its head from the grasp of a man who is leaning overthe stall and idly holding its horn, so the sun entered the world in smooth,gigantic power. Nothing interrupted or obscured its coming. Without a sound, theleaves shone and the grass coruscated along the miles of the escarpment.
Outside the wood, Bigwig and Silver combed their ears, sniffed the air andhopped away, following their own long shadows to the grass of the gallop. As theymoved over the short turf -- nibbling, sitting up and looking round them -- theyapproached a little hollow, no more than three feet across. Before they reachedthe edge Bigwig, who was ahead of Silver, checked and crouched, staring.
Although he could not see into the hollow, he knew that there was some creaturein it -- something fairly big. Peering through the blades of grass round his head,he could see the curve of a white back. Whatever the creature was, it was nearly asbig as himself. He waited, stock still, for some little time, but it did not move.
"What has a white back, Silver?" whispered Bigwig.
Silver considered. "A cat?""No cats here.""How do you know?"At that moment they both heard a low, breathy hissing from the hollow. Itlasted for a few moments. Then there was silence once more.
Bigwig and Silver had a good opinion of themselves. Apart from Holly, theywere the only survivors of the Sandleford Owsla and they knew that theircomrades looked up to them. The encounter with the rats in the barn had been nojoke and had proved their worth. Bigwig, who was generous and honest, hadnever for a moment resented Hazel's courage on the night when his ownsuperstitious fear had got the better of him. But the idea of going back to theHoneycomb and reporting that he had glimpsed an unknown creature in thegrass and left it alone was more than he could swallow. He turned his head andlooked at Silver. Seeing that he was game, he took a final look at the strange whiteback and then went straight up to the edge of the hollow. Silver followed.
It was no cat. The creature in the hollow was a bird -- a big bird, nearly a footlong. Neither of them had ever seen a bird like it before. The white part of itsback, which they had glimpsed through the grass, was in fact only the shouldersand neck. The lower back was light gray and so were the wings, which tapered tolong, black-tipped primaries folded together over the tail. The head was very darkbrown -- almost black -- in such sharp contrast to the white neck that the birdlooked as though it were wearing a kind of hood. The one dark red leg that theycould see ended in a webbed foot and three powerful, taloned toes. The beak,hooked slightly downward at the end, was strong and sharp. As they stared, itopened, disclosing a red mouth and throat. The bird hissed savagely and tried tostrike, but still it did not move.
"It's hurt," said Bigwig.
"Yes, you can tell that," replied Silver. "But it's not wounded anywhere that Ican see. I'll go round--""Look out!" said Bigwig. "He'll have you!"Silver, as he started to move round the hollow, had come closer to the bird'shead. He jumped back just in time to avoid a quick, darting blow of the beak.
"That would have broken your foot," said Bigwig.
As they squatted, looking at the bird -- for they both sensed intuitively that itwould not rise -- it suddenly burst into loud, raucous cries -- "Yark! Yark!
Yark!" -- a tremendous sound at close quarters -- that split the morning andcarried far across the down. Bigwig and Silver turned and ran.
They collected themselves sufficiently to pull up short of the wood and make amore dignified approach to the bank. Hazel came to meet them in the grass.
There was no mistaking their wide eyes and dilated nostrils.
"Elil?" asked Hazel.
"Well, I'm blessed if I know, to tell you the truth," replied Bigwig. "There's agreat bird out there, like nothing I've ever seen.""How big? As big as a pheasant?""Not quite so big," admitted Bigwig, "but bigger than a wood pigeon: and a lotfiercer.""Is that what cried?""Yes. It startled me, all right. We were actually beside it. But for some reasonor other it can't move.""Dying?""I don't think so.""I'll go and have a look at it," said Hazel.
"It's savage. For goodness' sake be careful."Bigwig and Silver returned with Hazel. The three of them squatted outside thebird's reach as it looked sharply and desperately from one to the other. Hazelspoke in the hedgerow patois.
"You hurt? You no fly?"The answer was a harsh gabbling which they all felt immediately to be exotic.
Wherever the bird came from, it was somewhere far away. The accent was strangeand guttural, the speech distorted. They could catch only a word here and there.
"Come keel -- kah! kah! -- you come keel -- yark! -- t'ink me finish -- me nofinish -- 'urt you damn plenty--" The dark brown head flickered from side to side.
Then, unexpectedly, the bird began to drive its beak into the ground. Theynoticed for the first time that the grass in front of it was torn and scored withlines. For some moments it stabbed here and there, then gave up, lifted its headand watched them again.
"I believe it's starving," said Hazel. "We'd better feed it. Bigwig, go and getsome worms or something, there's a good fellow.""Er -- what did you say, Hazel?""Worms.""Me dig for worms?""Didn't the Owsla teach -- oh, all right, I'll do it," said Hazel. "You and Silverwait here."After a few moments, however, Bigwig followed Hazel back to the ditch andbegan to join him in scratching at the dry ground. Worms are not plentiful on thedowns and there had been no rain for days. After a time Bigwig looked up.
"What about beetles? Wood lice? Something like that?"They found some rotten sticks and carried them back. Hazel pushed oneforward cautiously.
"Insects."The bird split the stick three ways in as many seconds and snapped up the fewinsects inside. Soon there was a small pile of debris in the hollow as the rabbitsbrought anything from which it could get food. Bigwig found some horse dungalong the track, dug the worms out of it, overcame his disgust and carried themone by one. When Hazel praised him, he muttered something about "the firsttime any rabbit's done this and don't tell the blackbirds." At last, long after theyhad all grown weary, the bird stopped feeding and looked at Hazel.
"Finish eat." It paused. "Vat for you do?""You hurt?" said Hazel.
The bird looked crafty. "No hurt. Plenty fight. Stay small time, den go.""You stay there you finish," said Hazel. "Bad place. Come homba, comekestrel.""Damn de lot. Fight plenty.""I bet it would, too," said Bigwig, looking with admiration at the two-inch beakand thick neck.
"We no want you finish," said Hazel. "You stay here you finish. We help youmaybe.""Piss off!""Come on," said Hazel immediately to the others. "Let it alone." He began tolollop back to the wood. "Let it try keeping the kestrels off for a bit.""What's the idea, Hazel?" said Silver. "That's a savage brute. You can't make afriend out of that.""You may be right," said Hazel. "But what's the good of a blue tit or a robin tous? They don't fly any distance. We need a big bird.""But why do you want a bird so particularly?""I'll explain later," said Hazel. "I'd like Blackberry and Fiver to hear as well.
But let's go underground now. If you don't want to chew pellets, I do."During the afternoon Hazel organized more work on the warren. TheHoneycomb was as good as finished -- though rabbits are not methodical and arenever really certain when anything is finished -- and the surrounding burrowsand runs were taking shape. Quite early in the evening, however, he made his wayonce more to the hollow. The bird was still there. It looked weaker and less alert,but snapped feebly as Hazel came up.
"Still here?" said Hazel. "You fight hawk?""No fight," answered the bird. "No fight, but vatch, vatch, alvays vatch. Ees nogood.""Hungry?"The bird made no reply.
"Listen," said Hazel. "Rabbits not eat birds. Rabbits eat grass. We help you.""Vat for 'elp me?""Never mind. We make you safe. Big hole. Food too."The bird considered. "Legs fine. Ving no good. 'E bad.""Well, walk, then.""You 'urt me, I 'urt you like damn."Hazel turned away. The bird spoke again.
"Ees long vay?""No, not far.""Come, den."It got up with a good deal of difficulty, staggering on its strong blood-red legs.
Then it opened its wings high above its body and Hazel jumped back, startled bythe great, arching span. But at once it closed them again, grimacing with pain.
"Ving no good. I come."It followed Hazel docilely enough across the grass, but he was careful to keepout of its reach. Their arrival outside the wood caused something of a sensation,which Hazel cut short with a peremptory sharpness quite unlike his usualmanner.
"Come on, get busy," he said to Dandelion and Buckthorn. "This bird's hurtand we're going to shelter it until it's better. Ask Bigwig to show you how to get itsome food. It eats worms and insects. Try grasshoppers, spiders -- anything.
Hawkbit! Acorn! Yes, and you too, Fiver -- come out of that rapt trance, orwhatever you're in. We need an open, wide hole, broader than it's deep, with a flatfloor a little below the level of the entrance: by nightfall.""We've been digging all the afternoon, Hazel--""I know. I'll come and help you," said Hazel, "in just a little while. Only getstarted. The night's coming."The astonished rabbits obeyed him, grumbling. Hazel's authority was put tosomething of a test, but held firm with the support of Bigwig. Although he had noidea what Hazel had in mind, Bigwig was fascinated by the strength and courageof the bird and had already accepted the idea of taking it in, without troublinghimself about the reason. He led the digging while Hazel explained to the bird, aswell as he could, how they lived, their ways of protecting themselves from theenemies and the kind of shelter they could provide. The amount of food therabbits produced was not very large, but once inside the wood the bird clearly feltsafer and was able to hobble about and do some foraging for itself.
By owl time Bigwig and his helpers had scratched out a kind of lobby inside theentrance to one of the runs leading down from the wood. They lined the floorwith beech twigs and leaves. As darkness began to fall, the bird was installed. Itwas still suspicious, but seemed to be in a good deal of pain. Evidently, since itcould not think of any better plan for itself, it was ready to try a rabbit hole tosave its life. From outside, they could see its dark head alert in the gloom, theblack eyes still watchful. It was not asleep when they themselves finished a latesilflay and went underground.
Black-headed gulls are gregarious. They live in colonies where they forage andfeed, chatter and fight all day long. Solitude and reticence are unnatural to them.
They move southward in the breeding season and at such times a wounded one isonly too likely to find itself deserted. The gull's savagery and suspicion had beendue partly to pain and partly to the unnerving knowledge that it had nocompanions and could not fly. By the following morning its natural instincts tomix with a flock and to talk were beginning to return. Bigwig made himself itscompanion. He would not hear of the gull going out to forage. Before ni-Frith therabbits had managed to produce as much as it could eat -- for a time, at all events-- and were able to sleep through the heat of the day. Bigwig, however, remainedwith the gull, making no secret of his admiration, talking and listening to it forseveral hours. At the evening feed he joined Hazel and Holly near the bank whereBluebell had told his story of El-ahrairah.
"How's the bird now?" asked Hazel.
"A good deal better, I think," replied Bigwig. "He's very tough, you know. Mygoodness, what a life he's had! You don't know what you're missing! I could sitand listen to him all day.""How was it hurt?""A cat jumped on him in a farmyard. He never heard it until the last moment.
It tore the muscle of one of his wings, but apparently he gave it something toremember before he made off. Then he got himself up here somehow or other andjust collapsed. Think of standing up to a cat! I can see now that I haven't reallystarted yet. Why shouldn't a rabbit stand up to a cat? Let's just suppose that--""But what is this bird?" interrupted Holly.
"Well, I can't quite make out," answered Bigwig. "But if I understand himproperly -- and I'm not at all sure that I do -- he says that where he comes fromthere are thousands of his kind -- more than we can possibly imagine. Their flocksmake the whole air white and in the breeding season their nests are like leaves ina wood -- so he says.""But where? I've never seen one, even.""He says," said Bigwig, looking very straight at Holly, "he says that a long wayfrom here the earth stops and there isn't any more.""Well, obviously it stops somewhere. What is there beyond?""Water.""A river, you mean?""No," said Bigwig, "not a river. He says there's a vast place of water, going onand on. You can't see to the other side. There isn't another side. At least there is,because he's been there. Oh, I don't know -- I must admit I can't altogetherunderstand it.""Was it telling you that it's been outside the world and come back again? Thatmust be untrue.""I don't know," said Bigwig, "but I'm sure he's not lying. This water,apparently, moves all the time and keeps breaking against the earth: and when hecan't hear that, he misses it. That's his name -- Kehaar. It's the noise the watermakes."The others were impressed in spite of themselves.
"Well, why's it here?" asked Hazel.
"He shouldn't be. He ought to have been off to this Big Water place a long timeago, to breed. Apparently a lot of them come away in winter, because it gets socold and wild. Then they go back in summer. But he's been hurt once already thisspring. It was nothing much, but it held him up. He rested and hung around arookery for a bit. Then he got stronger and left them, and he was coming alongwhen he stopped in the farmyard and met this foul cat.""So when it's better it'll go on again?" said Hazel.
"Yes.""We've been wasting our time, then.""Why, Hazel, what is it you have in mind?""Go and get Blackberry and Fiver: we'd better have Silver, too. Then I'llexplain."The quiet of the evening silflay, when the western sun shone straight along theridge, the grass tussocks threw shadows twice as long as themselves and the coolair smelled of thyme and dog roses, was something which they had all come toenjoy even more than former evenings in the meadows of Sandleford. Althoughthey could not know it, the down was more lonely than it had been for hundredsof years. There were no sheep, and villagers from Kingsclere and Sydmonton nolonger had any occasion to walk over the hills, either for business or for pleasure.
In the fields of Sandleford the rabbits had seen men almost every day. Here, sincetheir arrival, they had seen one, and him on a horse. Looking round the littlegroup that gathered on the grass, Hazel saw that all of them -- even Holly -- werelooking stronger, sleeker and in better shape than when they had first come to thedown. Whatever might lie ahead, at least he could feel that he had not failed themso far.
"We're doing well here," he began, "or so it seems to me. We're certainly not abunch of hlessil any more. But all the same, there's something on my mind. I'msurprised, as a matter of fact, that I should be the first one of us to start thinkingabout it. Unless we can find the answer, then this warren's as good as finished, inspite ............