Esprit de rivalité et de mésintelligence qui préserva plus d'une fois l'arméeanglaise d'une défaite.
General Jourdan, Mémoires MilitairesSome people have the idea that rabbits spend a good deal of their time runningaway from foxes. It is true that every rabbit fears the fox and will bolt if it smellsone. But many rabbits go all their lives without seeing a fox and probably only afew actually fall victim to an enemy who smells strongly and cannot run as fast asthey can. A fox trying to catch a rabbit usually creeps upwind under cover --perhaps through a patch of woodland to the edge. Then, if he succeeds in gettingclose to where the rabbits are at silflay along the bank or in the field, he lies stilland watches his chance for a quick snatch. It is said that sometimes he fascinatesthem, as the weasel does, by rolling and playing in the open, coming closer littleby little until he can make a grab. However this may be, it is certain that no foxhunts rabbits by going openly up a combe at sunset.
Neither Hazel nor any of the rabbits who had been listening to Dandelion'sstory had ever seen a fox. Nevertheless, they knew that a fox in the open, plain tobe seen, is not dangerous as long as it is spotted in time. Hazel realized that hehad been careless to allow everyone to gather round Dandelion and to have failedto post even one sentry. What wind there was was from the northeast and the fox,coming up the combe from the west, might have broken in upon them withoutwarning. But from this danger they had been saved by Fiver and Pipkin going intothe open. Even in his flash of alarm as Pipkin spoke, it crossed Hazel's mind thatFiver, no doubt reluctant to advise him in front of the others, had probably seizedthe opportunity provided by Pipkin's fear to post himself as a sentry.
Hazel thought quickly. If the fox were not too close, all they had to do was run.
There was woodland nearby and they could vanish into it, keeping more or lesstogether, and simply continue on their way. He pushed through the burdocks.
"How close is it?" he asked. "And where's Fiver?""I'm here," replied Fiver, from a few yards away. He was squatting under thelong briars of a dog rose and did not turn his head as Hazel came up beside him.
"And there's the fox," he added. Hazel followed his gaze.
The rough, weed-covered ground of the combe sloped away below them, a longdip bounded on the north by Caesar's Belt. The last of the setting sun shonestraight up it through a break in the trees. The fox was below them and still someway off. Although it was almost directly downwind and therefore must be able tosmell them, it did not look as though it were particularly interested in rabbits. Itwas trotting steadily up the combe like a dog, trailing its white-tipped brush. Incolor it was sandy brown, with dark legs and ears. Even now, though obviouslynot hunting, it had a crafty, predatory look that made the watchers among thedog roses shiver. As it passed behind a patch of thistles and disappeared fromview, Hazel and Fiver returned to the others.
"Come on," said Hazel. "If you've never seen a fox, don't bother to go and looknow. Just follow me."He was about to lead the way up the south side of the combe when suddenly arabbit shouldered him roughly aside, pushed past Fiver and was gone into theopen. Hazel stopped and looked round in amazement.
"Who was that?" he asked.
"Bigwig," answered Fiver, staring.
Together they went quickly back to the briars and once more looked into thecombe. Bigwig, in full view, was loping warily downhill, straight toward the fox.
They watched him, aghast. He drew near, but still the fox paid no attention.
"Hazel," said Silver from behind, "shall I--?""No one is to move," said Hazel quickly. "Keep still, all of you."At about thirty yards' distance the fox saw the approaching rabbit. It pausedfor a moment and then continued to trot forward. It was almost upon him beforeBigwig turned and began to limp up the north slope of the combe toward the treesof the Belt. The fox hesitated again and then followed him.
"What's he up to?" muttered Blackberry.
"Trying to draw it off, I suppose," replied Fiver.
"But he didn't have to! We should have got away without that.""Confounded fool!" said Hazel. "I don't know when I've been so angry."The fox had quickened its pace and was now some distance away from them. Itappeared to be overtaking Bigwig. The sun had set and in the failing light theycould just make him out as he entered the undergrowth. He disappeared and thefox followed. For several moments all was quiet. Then, horribly clear across thedarkening, empty combe, there came the agonizing squeal of a stricken rabbit.
"O Frith and Inlé!" cried Blackberry, stamping. Pipkin turned to bolt. Hazel didnot move.
"Shall we go, Hazel?" asked Silver. "We can't help him now."As he spoke, Bigwig suddenly broke out of the trees, running very fast. Almostbefore they could grasp that he was alive, he had recrossed the entire upper slopeof the combe in a single dash and bolted in among them.
"Come on," said Bigwig, "let's get out of here!""But what -- what -- Are you wounded?" asked Bluebell in bewilderment.
"No," said Bigwig, "never better! Let's go!""You can wait until I'm ready," said Hazel in a cold, angry tone. "You've doneyour best to kill yourself and acted like a complete fool. Now hold your tongueand sit down!" He turned and, although it was rapidly becoming too dark to seeany distance, made as though he were still looking out across the combe. Behindhim, the rabbits fidgeted nervously. Several had begun to feel a dreamlike senseof unreality. The long day above ground, the close, overgrown combe, thefrightening story in which they had been absorbed, the sudden appearance of thefox, the shock of Bigwig's inexplicable adventure -- all these, following one uponanother, had flooded their spirits and left them dull and bemused.
"Get them out, Hazel," whispered Fiver, "before they all go tharn."Hazel turned at once. "Well, no fox," he said cheerfully. "It's gone and we'll go,too. For goodness' sake keep close together, because if anyone gets lost in thedark we may not find him again. And remember, if we come upon any strangerabbits, you're to attack them at once and ask questions afterward."They skirted the side of the wood that lay along the southern edge of the combeand then, in ones and twos, slipped across the empty road beyond. Little by littletheir spirits cleared. They found themselves in open farmland -- indeed, theycould both smell and hear the farm, not far away on the evening side -- and thegoing was easy: smooth, wide pasture fields, sloping gently downhill and dividednot by hedges but by broad, low banks, each as wide as a lane and overgrown withelder, dogwood and spindle. It was true rabbit country, reassuring after the Beltand the tangled, goose-grassed combe; and when they had covered a gooddistance over the turf -- halting continually to listen and sniff and running, nowone and now another, from each piece of cover to the next -- Hazel felt safe ingiving them a rest. As soon as he had sent out Speedwell and Hawkbit as sentries,he led Bigwig to one side.
"I'm angry with you," he said. "You're the one rabbit we're not going to be able............