Woundwort made his way back to the Crixa. Chervil, being on duty with his Mark, remained where he was. Campion accompanied the General.

        At this hour the Crixa was all green shade, with red gleams of sun that winked through the moving leaves. The damp grass along the edges of the paths was dotted with spikes of mauve bugle, and the sanicles and yellow archangels flowered thickly. Under an elder bush, on the far side of the track, two Owslafa, or Council police, were waiting; and with them was the stranger.

        Woundwort saw at once what Campion had meant. The stranger was a big rabbit, heavy but alert, with a rugged, seasoned appearance and the look of a fighter. He had a curious thick growth of fur--a kind of topknot--on the crown of his head. He stared at Woundwort with a detached, appraising air which the General had not encountered for a very long time.

        "Who are you?" said Woundwort.

        "My name is Thlayli," replied the Stranger.

        "Thlayli, sir," prompted Campion.

        The stranger said nothing.

        "The patrol brought you in, I'm told. What were you doing?"

        "I've come to join Efrafa."

        "Why?"

        "I'm surprised you ask. It's your warren, isn't it? Is there anything odd about someone wanting to join?"

        Woundwort was nonplused. He was no fool and it was, he could not help feeling, extremely odd that any right-minded rabbit should choose to walk into Efrafa of his own accord. But he could hardly say so.

        "What can you do?"

        "I can run and fight and spoil a story telling it. I've been an officer in an Owsla."

        "Fight, can you? Could you fight him?" said Woundwort, looking at Campion.

        "Certainly, if you wish." The stranger reared up and aimed a heavy cuff at Campion, who leaped back just in time.

        "Don't be a fool," said Woundwort. "Sit down. Where were you in an Owsla?"

        "Far off. The warren was destroyed by men, but I escaped. I've been wandering some time. It won't surprise you that I heard of Efrafa. I've come a long way to join it. I thought you might have some use for me."

        "Are you alone?"

        "I am now."

        Woundwort considered again. It was likely enough that this rabbit had been an officer in an Owsla. Any Owsla would want him. If he was speaking the truth, he had had wits enough to escape the destruction of his warren and survive a long journey through open country. It must have been a very long journey, for there was no warren within the normal range of the Efrafan patrols.

        "Well," he said at length, "I dare say we might be able to find some use for you, as you put it. Campion here will look after you tonight, and tomorrow morning you'll come before the Council. Meanwhile, don't start fighting, do you see? We can give you plenty to do without that."

        "Very well."

        The following morning, after the Council had discussed the predicament of the warren due to the recent losses, General Woundwort proposed that, for a start, they might do worse than try the big newcomer as an officer in the Near Hind Mark, under the instruction of Captain Chervil. The Council, having seen him, agreed. By ni-Frith Thlayli, still bleeding from the Mark gash inflicted in his left haunch, had taken up his duties.

35.    Groping

This world, where much is to be done, and little known...

Dr. Johnson

"And then before the Mark silflay," said Chervil, "I always have a look at the weather. The previous Mark send a runner, of course, to say when they're going down, and he reports on the weather, but I always go and have a look for myself as well. In moonlight we put the sentries fairly close in and keep on the move ourselves to make sure no one goes too far. But in rain or darkness we send the Mark up in small groups, one after the other, and each group has a sentry in charge. In absolutely desperate weather we ask the General's permission to postpone the silflay."

        "But do they often try to run away?" asked Bigwig. During the afternoon he had been up and down the runs and crowded burrows with Chervil and Avens, the other Mark officer, and had thought to himself that never in his life had he seen such a cheerless, dispirited lot of rabbits. "They don't strike me as a very difficult bunch."

        "Most of them are no trouble, it's true," said Avens, "but you never know when trouble's coming. For instance, you'd have said there wasn't a more docile lot in Efrafa than the Right Flank. And then one day they get four hlessil wished on them by the Council, and the next evening Bugloss isn't very quick in the uptake for some reason, and suddenly these hlessil play a trick on him and bunk. And that's the end of him--to say nothing of poor old Charlock, killed on the iron road. When something like that happens, it happens like lightning and it isn't always planned: sometimes it's more like a frenzy. A rabbit tears away on impulse and if you don't knock him over quick, the next thing you know three more will be off after him. The only safe way is to watch all the time when they're above ground and do your own relaxing when you can. After all, that's what we're here for--that and the patrols."

        "Now, about burying hraka," said Chervil, "you can't be too strict. If the General finds any hraka in the fields he'll stuff your tail down your throat. They always try to dodge burying, though. They want to be natural, the anti-social little beasts. They just don't realize that everyone's good depends on everyone's cooperation. What I do is to set three or four of them to dig a new trough in the ditch every day, as a punishment. You can nearly always find someone to punish if you try hard enough. Today's squad fills up yesterday's trough and digs another. There are special runs leading into the bottom of the ditch and the Mark have got to use those and no others when they go out to pass hraka. We keep a hraka sentry in the ditch to make sure they come back."

        "How do you check them in after silflay?" asked Bigwig.

        "Well, we know them all by sight," replied Chervil, "and we watch them go down. There are only two entrance holes for the Mark and one of us sits at each hole. Every rabbit knows which hole he has to use and I should certainly miss any of mine who didn't go down. The sentries come in last of all--I only call them in when I'm quite sure that all the Mark are down. And once they're down, of course, they can't very well get out, with a sentry at each hole. Digging I should hear. You're not allowed to dig in Efrafa without permission from the Council. The only really dangerous time is when there's an alarm--say, a man or a fox. Then we all bolt for the nearest hole, of course. So far, it doesn't seem to have occurred to anyone that he could bolt the other way and have quite a long start before he was missed. Still, no rabbit will bolt toward elil, and that's the real safeguard."

        "Well, I admire your thoroughness," said Bigwig, thinking to himself that his secret task seemed to be even more hopeless than he had expected. "I'll get the hang of it all as soon as I can. When do we have the chance of a patrol?"

        "I expect the General will take you on patrol himself, to begin with," said Avens. "He did me. You may not be so keen when you've had a day or two with him--you'll be worn out. Still, I must admit, Thlayli, you're a fine size, and if you've been living rough for some time you'll probably manage it all right."

        At this moment a rabbit with a white scar across his throat came down the run.

        "The Neck Mark's just going down, Captain Chervil, sir," he said. "It's a beautiful evening: I should make the most of it."

        "I was wondering when you were going to show up," replied Chervil. "Tell Captain Sainfoin I'm bringing my Mark up at once."

        Turning to one of his own sentries who was close by, Chervil told him to go round the burrows and send everyone up for silflay.

        "Now," he said, "Avens, you go to the further hole as usual, and Thlayli can join me on the nearer one. We'll send four sentries out to the line, to start with, and when the Mark have all gone out we'll add four more and keep two in reserve. I'll see you in the usual place, by the big flint in the bank."

        Bigwig followed Chervil along the run, down which came the scents of warm grass, clover and hop trefoil. He had found most of the runs closer and stuffier than he was used to, no doubt because there were so few holes into the open air. The prospect of an evening silflay, even in Efrafa, was pleasant. He thought of the beech leaves rustling above the far-off Honeycomb, and sighed. "I wonder how old Holly's getting on," he thought, "and whether I'll ever see him again: or Hazel either, for the matter of that. Well, I'll give these blighters something to think about before I've finished. I do feel lonely, though. How hard it is to carry a secret by yourself!"

        They reached the mouth of the hole and Chervil went outside to look round. When he returned, he took up station at the top of the run. As Bigwig found a place alongside, he noticed for the first time, in the opposite wall of the run, a kind of recess like an open cave. In this, three rabbits were squatting. Those on either side had the tough, stolid look of members of the Owslafa. But it was at the one in the middle that he stared. This rabbit had very dark fur--almost black. But this was not the most remarkable thing about him. He was dreadfully mutilated. His ears were nothing but shapeless shreds, ragged at the edges, seamed with ill-knit scars and beaded here and there with lumps of proud, bare flesh. One eyelid was misshapen and closed askew. Despite the cool, exciting air of the July evening, he seemed apathetic and torpid. He kept his gaze fixed on the ground and blinked continually. After a time he lowered his head and rubbed his nose on his forepaws in a listless manner. Then he scratched his neck and settled down in his former drooping position.

        Bigwig, his warm, impulsive nature stirred by curiosity and pity, went across the run.

        "Who are you?" he asked.

        "My name is Blackavar, sir," replied the rabbit. He did not look up and spoke without expression, as though he had answered this question many times before.

        "Are you going to silflay?" said Bigwig. No doubt, he thought, this was some hero of the warren, wounded in a great fight and now infirm, whose past services merited an honorable escort when he went out.

        "No, sir," answered the rabbit.

        "Why ever not?" said Bigwig. "It's a lovely evening."

        "I don't silflay at this time, sir."

        "Then why are you here?" asked Bigwig, with his usual directness.

        "The Mark that has the evening silflay, sir," began the rabbit. "The Mark that has--they come--I--" He hesitated and fell silent.

        One of the Owslafa spoke. "Get on with it," he said.

        "I come here for the Mark to see me," said the rabbit in his low, drained voice. "Every Mark should see how I have been punished as I deserve for my treachery in trying to leave the warren. The Council were merciful--the Council were merciful--the Council--I can't remember it, sir, I really can't," he burst out, turning to the sentry who had spoken. "I can't seem to remember anything."

        The sentry said nothing. Bigwig, after staring in shocked silence for a few moments, rejoined Chervil.

        "He's supposed to tell everybody who asks," said Chervil, "but he's getting sort of stupid after half a month of it. He tried to run away. Campion caught him and brought him back and the Council ripped up his ears and said he had to be shown at every morning and evening silflay, as an example to the others. But if you ask me, he won't last much longer. He'll meet a blacker rabbit than himself one of these nights."

        Bigwig shuddered, partly at Chervil's tone of callous indifference and partly at his own memories. The Mark were filing up now and he watched as they went past, each darkening the entrance for a moment before hopping out under the hawthorn. It was clear that Chervil prided himself on knowing his rabbits by name. He spoke to most of them and was at pains to show that he had some knowledge of their personal lives. It seemed to Bigwig that the answers he got were not particularly warm or friendly, but he did not know whether to put that down to dislike of Chervil or merely to the lack of spirit that seemed to be common to the rank and file in Efrafa. He was closely on the watch--as Blackberry had advised him to be--for any signs of disaffection or rebellion, but he could see little grounds for hope in the expressionless faces that went by. At the end came a little group of three or four does, talking among themselves.

        "Well, are you getting on all right with your new friends, Nelthilta?" said Chervil to the first, as she passed him.

        The doe, a pretty, long-nosed rabbit not more than three months old, stopped and looked at him.

        "You'll get on yourself one day, Captain, I dare say," she replied. "Like Captain Mallow--he got on, you know. Why don't you send some does on Wide Patrol?"

        She paused for Chervil to reply, but he made no answer and did not speak to the does who followed Nelthilta out into the field.

        "What did she mean by that?" asked Bigwig.

        "Well, there's been trouble, you know," said Chervil. "A bunch of does in the Near Fore started a row at a Council meeting. The General said they must be broken up and we had a couple sent to us. I've been keeping an eye on them. They're no trouble themselves, but Nelthilta's taken up with them and it seems to have made her cheeky and resentful: sort of thing you saw just now. I don't really mind that--it shows they feel the Owsla's on top. If the young does became quiet and polite I should be much more worried: I should wonder what they were up to. All the same, Thlayli, I'd like you to do what you can to get to know those particular does and bring them a bit more into line."

        "Right," said Bigwig. "By the way, what are the rules about mating?"

        "Mating?" said Chervil. "Well, if you want a doe, you have one--any doe in the Mark, that is. We're not officers for nothing, are we? The does are under orders and none of the bucks can stop you. That just leaves you and me and Avens; and we shall hardly quarrel. There are plenty of does, after all."

        "I see," said Bigwig. "Well, I'll silflay now. Unless you've got any other ideas, I'll go and talk to some of the Mark and then go round the sentries and get the lie of the land. What about Blackavar?"

        "Leave him," said Chervil. "He's none of our business. The Owslafa will keep him here until the Mark come back and after that they'll take him away."

        Bigwig made his way into the field, conscious of the wary glances of the rabbits he passed. He felt perplexed and apprehensive. How was he to begin his dangerous task? Begin he must, in one way or another, for Kehaar had made it clear that he was not ready to wait. There was nothing for it but to take a chance and trust somebody. But whom? A warren like this must be full of spies. Probably only General Woundwort knew who the spies were. Was there a spy watching him now?

        "I shall just have to trust my feelings," he thought. "I'll go round the place a bit and see if I can make any friends. But I know one thing--if I do succeed in getting any does out of here, I'll take that poor wretched Blackavar with me as well. Frith on a bridge! It makes me angry just to think of him being forced to sit there like that. General Woundwort indeed! A gun's too good for him."

        Nibbling and pondering, he moved slowly over the open meadow in the evening sun. After a while he found that he was approaching a small hollow, much like the one on Watership Down where he and Silver had found Kehaar. In this hollow there were four does, with their backs to him. He recognized them as the little group who had gone out last. They had evidently finished the hungry, intent stage of feeding and were browsing and talking at leisure, and he could see that one of them had the attention of the other three. Even more than most rabbits, Bigwig loved a story and now he felt attracted by the prospect of hearing something new in this strange warren. He moved quietly up to the edge of the hollow just as the doe began to speak.

        At once he realized that this was no story. Yet he had heard the like before, somewhere. The rapt air, the rhythmic utterance, the intent listeners--what was it they recalled? Then he remembered the smell of carrots, and Silverweed dominating the crowd in the great burrow. But these verses went to his heart as Silverweed's had not.

Long ago

The yellowhammer sang, high on the thorn.

He sang near a litter that the doe brought out to play,

He sang in the wind and the kittens played below.

Their time slipped by all under the elder bloom.

But the bird flew away and now my heart is dark

And time will never play in the fields again.

Long ago

The orange beetles clung to the rye-grass stems.

The windy grass was waving. A buck and doe

Ran through the meadow. They scratched a hole in the bank,

They did what they pleased all under the hazel leaves.

But the beetles died in the frost and my heart is dark;

And I shall never choose a mate again.

The frost is falling, the frost falls into my body.

My nostrils, my ears are torpid under the frost.

The swift will come in the spring, crying "News! News!

Does, dig new holes and flow with milk for your litters."

I shall not hear. The embryos return

Into my dulled body. Across my sleep

There runs a wire fence to imprison the wind.

I shall never feel the wind blowing again.

        The doe was silent and her three companions said nothing: but their stillness showed plainly enough that she

had spoken for all of them. A flock of starlings passed overhead, chattering and whistling, and a liquid dropping fell into the grass among the little group, but none moved or startled. Each seemed taken up with the same melancholy thoughts--thoughts which, however sad, were at least far from Efrafa.

        Bigwig's spirit was as tough as his body and quite without sentimentality, but, like most creatures who have experienced hardship and danger, he could recognize and respect suffering when he saw it. He was accustomed to sizing up other rabbits and deciding what they were good for. It struck him that these does were not far from the end of their powers. A wild animal that feels that it no longer has any reason to live reaches in the end a point when its remaining energies may actually be directed toward dying. It was this state of mind that Bigwig had mistakenly attributed to Fiver in the warren of the snares. Since then his judgment had matured. He felt that despair was not far from these does; and from all that he had heard of Efrafa, both from Holly and from Chervil, he could understand why. He knew that the effects of overcrowding and tension in a warren show themselves first in the does. They become infertile and aggressive. But if aggression cannot mend their troubles, then often they begin to drift toward the only other way out. He wondered what point on this dismal path these particular does had reached.

        He hopped down into the hollow. The does, disturbed from their thoughts, looked at him resentfully and drew back.

        "I know you're Nelthilta," said Bigwig to the pretty young doe who had retorted to Chervil in the run. "But what's your name?" he went on, turning to the doe beside her.

        After a pause, she answered reluctantly, "Thethuthinnang, sir."*

        "And yours?" said Bigwig, to the doe who had spoken the verses.

        She turned to him a look of such wretchedness, so full of accusation and suffering, that it was all he could do not to beg her then and there to believe that he was her secret friend and that he hated Efrafa and the authority which he represented. Nelthilta's rejoinder to Chervil in the run had been full of hatred, but this doe's gaze spoke of wrongs beyond her power to express. As Bigwig stared back at her, he suddenly recalled Holly's description of the great yellow hrududu that had torn open the earth above the destroyed warren. "That might have met a look like this," he thought. Then the doe answered, "My name is Hyzenthlay, sir."

        "Hyzenthlay?" said Bigwig, startled out of his self-possession. "Then it was you who--" He stopped. It might be dangerous to ask whether she remembered speaking to Holly. But whether she did or not, here, evidently, was the rabbit who had told Holly and his companions about the troubles of Efrafa and the discontent of the does. If he remembered Holly's story rightly, she had already made some sort of attempt to leave the warren. "But," he thought, as he met once more her desolate eyes, "what is she good for now?"

        "May we have permission to go, sir?" asked Nelthilta. "The company of officers absolutely overpowers us, you see: we find a little of it goes an awfully long way."

        "Oh--yes--certainly--by all means," replied Bigwig in confusion. He remained where he was as the does hopped away, Nelthilta raising her voice to remark, "What a great oaf!" and half looking round in the evident hope that he would take her up.

        "Oh, well, there's one of them with some spirit left, anyway," he thought, as he made his way out to the sentries.

        He spent some time talking to the sentries and learning how they were organized. It was a depressingly efficient system. Each sentry could reach his neighbor in a matter of moments; and the appropriate stamping signal--for they had more than one--would bring out the officers and the reserves. If necessary, the Owslafa could be alerted in almost no time at all and so could Captain Campion, or whatever officer might be patrolling the outskirts of the warren. Since only one Mark fed at a time, there could hardly be any confusion about where to go if an alarm were given. One of the sentries, Marjoram, told him about the attempted escape by Blackavar.

        "He pretended to feed his way out as far as he could," said Marjoram, "and then he made a dash. He actually managed to knock down two sentries who tried to stop him; and I doubt whether anyone on his own has ever done as much as that. He ran like mad, but Campion had got the alarm, you see, and he simply moved round and intercepted him further down the fields. Of course, if he hadn't smashed up the sentries, the Council might have let him off more lightly."

        "Do you like the warren life?" asked Bigwig.

        "It's not too bad now I'm in the Owsla," answered Marjoram, "and if I can get to be an officer it'll be better still. I've done two Wide Patrols now--they're the thing for getting yourself noticed. I can track and fight as well as most, but of course they want more than that from an officer. I think our officers are a strong bunch, don't you?"

        "Yes, I do," said Bigwig with feeling. It struck him that Marjoram evidently did not know that he himself was a newcomer to Efrafa. At any rate, he showed neither jealousy nor resentment. Bigwig was beginning to realize that in this place nobody was told more than was good for him, or got to know much except what was before his nose. Marjoram probably supposed that he, Bigwig, had been promoted out of another Mark.

        As darkness fell, just before the end of the silflay, Captain Campion came up the field with a patrol of three and Chervil ran out to meet him on the sentry line. Bigwig joined them and listened to the talk. He gathered that Campion had been out as far as the iron road but had found nothing unusual.

        "Don't you ever go beyond the iron road?" he asked.

        "Not very often," answered Campion. "It's wet, you know--bad rabbit country. I have been there, but on these

ordinary circuit patrols I'm really looking nearer home. My job is partly to notice anything new that the Council ought to know about, and partly to make sure we pick up anyone who bolts. Like that miserable Blackavar--and he gave me a bite I shan't forget, before I got him down. On a fine evening like this, I generally go down as far as the bank of the iron road and then work along this side of it. Or sometimes I go out in the other direction, as far as the barn. It all depends what's wanted. By the way, I saw the General earlier this evening and I rather think he means to take you on patrol in two or three days' time, as soon as you've settled down and your Mark have come off the dawn and evening silflay."

        "Why wait for that?" said Bigwig with all the enthusiasm he could assume. "Why not sooner?"

        "Well, a Mark generally keeps a full Owsla when it's on dawn and evening silflay. The rabbits are more lively at those times, you see, and need more supervision. But a Mark that's on ni-Frith and fu-Inlé silflay can generally spare Owsla for a Wide Patrol. Now I'll leave you here. I've got to take my lot to the Crixa and report to the General."

        As soon as the Mark had gone underground and Blackavar had been taken away by his escort, Bigwig excused himself to Chervil and Avens and went to his own burrow. Although the rank and file were cramped underground, the sentries had two large, roomy burrows to themselves, while each officer had a private burrow. By himself at last, Bigwig settled down to think over his problem.

        The difficulties were bewildering. He was fairly certain that with Kehaar's help he himself could escape from Efrafa whenever he wished. But how in the world was he to bring a bunch of does out--supposing that any were ready to try it? If he took it upon himself to call the sentries in during a silflay, Chervil would see in a matter of moments what he had done. The only possibility, then, was to make the break-out during the day: to wait until Chervil was asleep and then order a sentry to leave his post at the mouth of one of the holes. Bigwig considered. He could see no flaw in this idea. Then the thought came to him, "And what about Blackavar?" Blackavar presumably spent the day under guard in some special burrow. Probably hardly anyone knew where--no one knew anything in Efrafa--and certainly no one would tell. So he would have to leave Blackavar: no realistic plan could include him.

        "I'll be jiggered if I leave him," muttered Bigwig to himself. "I know Blackberry would say I was a fool. Still, he's not here and I'm doing this myself. But suppose I wreck the whole thing because of Blackavar? Oh, Frith in a barn! What a business!"

        He thought until he realized that he was thinking in circles. After a time, he fell asleep. When he woke, he could tell that it was moonlight outside, fine and still. It occurred to him that perhaps he might start his venture from the other end--by persuading some of the does to join him and working out a plan afterward, perhaps with their help. He went down the run until he came upon a young rabbit sleeping as best he could outside an overcrowded burrow. He woke him.

        "Do you know Hyzenthlay?" he asked.

        "Oh, yes, sir," replied the rabbit, with a rather pathetic attempt to sound brisk and ready.

        "Go and find her and tell her to come to my burrow," said Bigwig. "No one else is to come with her. Do you understand?"

        "Yes, sir."

        When the youngster had scurried off, Bigwig returned to his burrow, wondering whether there would be any suspicion. It seemed unlikely. From what Chervil had said, it was common enough for Efrafan officers to send for does. If he were questioned he had only to play up. He lay down and waited.

        In the dark, a rabbit came slowly up the run and stopped at the entrance to the burrow. There was a pause.

        "Hyzenthlay?" said Bigwig.

        "I am Hyzenthlay."

        "I want to talk to you," said Bigwig.

        "I am in the Mark, sir, and under your orders. But you have made a mistake."

        "No, I haven't," replied Bigwig. "You needn't be afraid. Come in here, close beside me."

        Hyzenthlay obeyed. He could feel her fast pulse. Her body was tense: her eyes were closed and her claws dug into the floor.

        "Hyzenthlay," whispered Bigwig in her ear, "listen carefully. You remember that many days ago now, four rabbits came to Efrafa in the evening. One had very pale gray fur and one had a healed rat bite in his foreleg. You talked with their leader--his name was Holly. I know what he told you."

        She turned her head in fear. "How do you know?"

        "Never mind. Only listen to me."

        Then Bigwig spoke of Hazel and Fiver; of the destruction of the Sandleford warren and the journey to Watership Down. Hyzenthlay neither moved nor interrupted.

        "The rabbits who talked to you that evening," said Bigwig, "who told you about the warren that was destroyed and of how they had come to ask for does from Efrafa--do you know what became of them?"

        Hyzenthlay's reply was no more than the faintest murmur in his ear.

        "I know what I heard. They escaped the next evening. Captain Charlock was killed pursuing them."

        "And was any other patrol sent after them, Hyzenthlay? The next day, I mean?"

        "We heard that there was no officer to spare, with Bugloss under arrest and Charlock dead."

        "Those rabbits returned to us safely. One of them is not far away now, with our Chief Rabbit and several more. They are cunning and resourceful. They are waiting for me to bring does out of Efrafa--as many as I can get to come. I shall be able to send them a message tomorrow morning."

        "How?"

        "By a bird--if all goes well." Bigwig told her about Kehaar. When he had finished, Hyzenthlay made no reply and he could not tell whether she was considering all that he had said or whether fear and disbelief had so troubled her that she did not know what to say. Did she think he was a spy trying to trap her? Did she perhaps wish only that he would let her go away? At last he said,

        "Do you believe me?"

        "Yes, I believe you."

        "Might I not be a spy sent by the Council?"

        "You are not. I can tell."

        "How?"

        "You spoke of your friend--the one who knew that that warren was a bad place. He is not the only such rabbit. Sometimes I can tell these things, too: but not often now, for my heart is in the frost."

        "Then will you join me--and persuade your friends as well? We need you: Efrafa doesn't need you."

        Again she was silent. Bigwig could hear a worm moving in the earth nearby and faintly down the tunnel came the sound of some small creature pattering through the grass outside. He waited quietly, knowing that it was vital that he should not upset her.

        At last she spoke again, so low in his ear that the words seemed barely more than broken cadences of breathing.

        "We can escape from Efrafa. The danger is very great, but in that we can succeed. It is beyond that I cannot see. Confusion and fear at nightfall--and then men, men, it is all things of men! A dog--a rope that snaps like a dry branch. A rabbit--no, it is not possible!--a rabbit that rides in a hrududu! Oh, I have become foolish--tales for kittens on a summer evening. No, I cannot see as I did once: it is like the shapes of trees beyond a field of rain."

        "Well, you'd better come and meet this friend of mine," said Bigwig. "He talks just like that, and I've come to trust him, so I trust you, too. If you feel we're going to succeed, that's fine. But what I'm asking is whether you'll bring your friends to join us."

        After another silence, Hyzenthlay said, "My courage--my spirit: it's so much less than it was. I'm afraid to let you rely on me."

        "I can tell that. What is it that's worn you down? Weren't you the leader of the does who went to the Council?"

        "There was myself and Thethuthinnang. I don't know what's happened to the other does who were with us. We were all in the Right Fore Mark then, you know. I've still got the Right Fore mark, but I've been marked again since. Blackavar--you saw him?"

        "Yes, of course."

        "He was in that Mark. He was our friend and encouraged us. Only a night or two after the does went up to speak to the Council, he tried to run away, but he was caught. You've seen what they did to him. That was the same evening that your friends came: and the next night they escaped. After that, the Council sent for us does once more. The General said that no one else would have the chance to run away. We were to be split up among the Marks, no more than two to each Mark. I don't know why they left Thethuthinnang and me together. Perhaps they didn't stop to think. Efrafa's like that, you know. The order was 'Two to each Mark,' so as long as the order was carried out it didn't particularly matter which two. Now I'm frightened and I feel the Council are always watching."

        "Yes, but I'm here now," said Bigwig.

        "The Council are very cunning."

        "They'll need to be. We've got some rabbits who are far more cunning, believe me. El-ahrairah's Owsla, no less. But tell me--was Nelthilta with you when you went to the Council?"

        "Oh, no, she was born here, in the Near Hind. She's got spirit, you know, but she's young and silly. It excites her to let everyone see that she's a friend of rabbits who are thought of as rebels. She doesn't realize what she's doing or what the Council are really like. It's all a kind of game to her--to cheek the officers and so on. One day she'll go too far and get us into trouble again. She couldn't be trusted with a secret, on any account."

        "How many does in this Mark would be ready to join an escape?"

        "Hrair. There's a great deal of discontent, you know. But, Thlayli, they mustn't be told until a very short time before we run--not just Nelthilta, but all of them. No one can keep a secret in a warren and there are spies everywhere. You and I must make a plan ourselves and tell no one but Thethuthinnang. She and I will get enough does to come with us when the time comes."

        Bigwig realized that he had stumbled, quite unexpectedly, upon what he needed most of all: a strong, sensible friend who would think on her own account and help to bear his burden.

        "I'll leave it to you to pick the does," he said. "I can make the chance to run if you'll have them ready to take it."

        "When?"

        "Sunset will be best, and the sooner the better. Hazel and the others will meet us and fight any patrol that follows. But the main thing is that the bird will fight for us. Even Woundwort won't be expecting that."

        Hyzenthlay was silent again and Bigwig realized with admiration that she was going over what he had said and searching for flaws.

        "But how many can the bird fight?" she said at last. "Can he drive them all away? This is going to be a big break-out and, make no mistake, Thlayli, the General himself will be after us with the best rabbits he has. We can't go on running away forever. They won't lose track of us and sooner or later they'll overtake us."

        "I told you our rabbits were more cunning than the Council. I don't think you'd really understand this part, however carefully I explained. Have you ever seen a river?"

        "What is a river?"

        "Well, there you are. I can't explain. But I promise you we shan't have to run far. We shall actually disappear before the Owsla's eyes--if they're there to see. I must say I'm looking forward to that."

        She said nothing and he added, "You must trust me, Hyzenthlay. Upon my life, we're going to vanish. I'm not deceiving you."

        "If you were wrong, those who died quickly would be the lucky ones."

        "No one's going to die. My friends have prepared a trick that El-ahrairah himself would be proud of."

        "If it is to be at sunset," she said, "it must be tomorrow or the next night. In two days the Mark loses the evening silflay. You know that?"

        "Yes, I'd heard. Tomorrow, then. Why wait longer? But there is one other thing. We're going to take Blackavar."     "Blackavar? How? He is guarded by Council police."

        "I know. It adds very much to the risk, but I've decided that I can't leave him behind. What I mean to do is this. Tomorrow evening, when the Mark silflay, you and Thethuthinnang must keep the does near you--as many as you've got together--ready to run. I shall meet the bird a little way out in the meadow and tell him to attack the sentries as soon as he sees me go back into the hole. Then I shall come back and deal with Blackavar's guards myself. They won't be expecting anything of the sort. I'll have him out in a moment and join you. There'll be complete confusion and in that confusion we'll run. The bird will attack anyone who tries to follow us. Remember, we go straight down to the great arch in the iron road. My friends will be waiting there. You've only to follow me--I'll lead the way."

        "Captain Campion may be on patrol."

        "Oh, I do hope he is," said Bigwig. "I really do."

        "Blackavar may not run at once. He will be as startled as the guards."

        "Is it possible to warn him?"

        "No. His guards never leave him and they take him out to silflay alone."

        "For how long will he have to live like that?"

        "When he has been to every Mark in turn, the Council will kill him. We all feel sure of that."

        "Then that settles it. I won't go without him."

        "Thlayli, you are very brave. Are you cunning, too? All our lives will depend on you tomorrow."

        "Well, can you see anything wrong with the plan?"

        "No, but I am only a doe who has never been out of Efrafa. Suppose something unexpected happens?"

        "Risk is risk. Don't you want to get out and come and live on the high downs with us? Think of it!"

        "Oh, Thlayli! Shall we mate with whom we choose and dig our own burrows and bear our litters alive?"

        "You shall: and tell stories in the Honeycomb and silflay whenever you feel like it. It's a fine life, I promise you."

        "I'll come! I'll run any risk."

        "What a stroke of luck that you should be in this Mark," said Bigwig. "Before this talk with you tonight, I was at my wits' end, wondering whatever I was going to do."

        "I'll go back to the lower burrows now, Thlayli. Some of the other rabbits are bound to wonder why you sent for me. It's not mating time with me, you see. If I go now, we can say you made a mistake and were disappointed. Don't forget to say that."

        "I won't. Yes, go now, and have them ready at silflay tomorrow evening, I shan't fail you."

        When she had gone, Bigwig felt desperately tired and lonely. He tried to hold in his mind that his friends were not far off and that he would see them again in less than a day. But he knew that all Efrafa lay between himself and Hazel. His thoughts broke up into the dismal fancies of anxiety. He fell into a half-dream, in which Captain Campion turned into a seagull and flew screaming over the river, until he woke in panic: and dozed again, to see Captain Chervil driving Blackavar before him toward a shining wire in the grass. And over all, as big as a horse in a field, aware of all that passed from one end of the world to the other, brooded the gigantic figure of General Woundwort. At last, worn out with his apprehensions, he passed into a deep sleep where even his fear could not follow, and lay without sound or movement in the solitary burrow.

*Thethuthinnang: "Movement of Leaves." The first and last syllables are stressed, as in the phrase "Once in a way."

36.    Approaching Thunder

We was just goin' ter scarper

When along comes Bill 'Arper,

So we never done nuffin' at all

Music Hall Song

Bigwig wavered gradually up from sleep, like a bubble of marsh gas from the bed of a still stream. There was another rabbit beside him in the burrow--a buck. He started up at once and said, "Who is it?"

        "Avens," replied the other. "Time for silflay, Thlayli. Larks have gone up. You're a sound sleeper."

        "I dare say," said Bigwig. "Well, I'm ready." He was about to lead the way down the run, but Avens' next words brought him to a halt.

        "Who's Fiver?" said Avens.

        Bigwig grew tense. "What did you say?"

        "I said, who's Fiver?"

        "How should I know?"

        "Well, you were talking in your sleep. You kept saying, 'Ask Fiver, ask Fiver.' I wondered who he was."

        "Oh, I see. A rabbit I knew once. He used to foretell the weather and so on."

        "Well, he could do it now, then. Can you smell the thunder?"

        Bigwig sniffed. Mixed with the scents of grass and cattle came the warm, thick smell of a heavy cloud mass, still far off. He perceived it uneasily. Almost all animals are disturbed by the approach of thunder, which oppresses them with its mounting tension and breaks the natural rhythm by which they live. Bigwig's inclination was to go back to his burrow, but he had little doubt that no mere trifle like a thundery morning would be allowed to interfere with the timetable of an Efrafan Mark.

        He was right. Chervil was already at the entrance, squatting opposite Blackavar and his escort. He looked round as his officers came up the run.

        "Come on, Thlayli," he said. "Sentries are out already. Does the thunder worry you?"

        "It does rather," replied Bigwig.

        "It won't break today," said Chervil. "It's a long way off yet. I'd give it until tomorrow evening. Anyway, don't let the Mark see it affects you. Nothing's to be altered unless the General says so."

        "Couldn't wake him up," said Avens, with a touch of malice. "There was a doe in your burrow last night, Thlayli, wasn't there?"

        "Oh, was there?" said Chervil. "Which one?"

        "Hyzenthlay," replied Bigwig.

        "Oh, the marli tharn,"* said Chervil. "Funny, I didn't think she was ready."

        "She wasn't," said Bigwig. "I made a mistake. But if you remember, you asked me to do what I could to get to know the awkward squad and bring them a bit more under control, so I kept her talking for a time, just the same."

        "Get anywhere?"

        "Hard to say, really," said Bigwig, "but I'll keep at it."

        He spent the time while the Mark went out in deciding upon the best and quickest way to enter the hole and attack Blackavar's escort. He would have to put one of them out of action in no time at all and then go straight for the other, who would be that much less unprepared. If he had to fight him, it would be better to avoid doing it between Blackavar and the mouth of the hole, for Blackavar would be as bewildered as the rest and might bolt back down the run. If he was going to bolt anywhere he must bolt outward. Of course, with any luck, the second guard might make off underground without fighting at all, but one could not count on that. Efrafan Owslafa were not given to running away.

        As he went out into the field, he wondered whether he would be spotted by Kehaar. The arrangement had been that Kehaar would find him whenever he might come above ground on the second day.

        He need not have worried. Kehaar had been over Efrafa since before dawn. As soon as he saw the Mark come up, he alighted a little way out in the field, halfway between the undergrowth and the sentry line, and began pecking about in the grass. Bigwig nibbled his way slowly toward him and then settled down to feed without a glance in his direction. After a while, he sensed that Kehaar was behind him, a little to one side.

        "Meester Pigvig, I t'ink ees not goot ve talk much. Meester 'Azel, 'e say vat you do? Vat you vant?"

        "I want two things, Kehaar--both at sunset tonight. First, our rabbits must be down by the big arch. I shall come through that arch with the does. If we're pursued, you and Hazel and the rest must be ready to fight. The boat thing, is it still there?"

        "Ya, ya, men no take heem. I tell Meester 'Azel vat you say."

        "Good. Now listen, Kehaar, this is the second thing, and it's terribly important. You see those rabbits out beyond us, in the field? They're the sentries. At sunset, you meet me here. Then I shall run back to those trees and go down a hole. As soon as you see me go in, attack the sentries--terrify them, drive them away. If they won't run, hurt them. They must be driven off. You'll see me come out again almost at once and then the does--the mothers--will start running with me and we'll go straight down to the arch. But we may very well be attacked on the way. If that happens, can you pile in again?"

        "Ya, ya. I fly at dem--dey no stop you."

        "Splendid. That's it, then. Hazel and the others--are they all right?"

        "Fine--fine. Dey say you damn good fella. Meester Pluebell, 'e say to pring one mudder for everyone else and two for 'im."

        Bigwig was trying to think of some appropriate reply to this when he saw Chervil running across the grass toward him. At once, without speaking again to Kehaar, he took a few hops in Chervil's direction and began biting busily at a patch of clover. As Chervil came up, Kehaar flew low above their heads and disappeared over the trees.

        Chervil looked after the flying gull and then turned to Bigwig.

        "Aren't you afraid of those birds?" he asked.

        "Not particularly," answered Bigwig.

        "They sometimes attack mice, you know, and rabbit kittens, too," said Chervil. "You were taking a risk, feeding there. Why were you so careless?"

        For answer, Bigwig sat up and gave Chervil a playful cuff, hard enough to roll him over.

        "That's why," he said.  

        Chervil got up with a sulky air. "All right, so you're heavier than I am," he said. "But you've got to learn, Thlayli, that there's more than weight to being an Efrafan officer. And it doesn't alter the fact that those birds can be dangerous. Anyway, it's not the season for them and that's odd, for a start. It'll have to be reported."

        "Whatever for?"

        "Because it's unusual. Everything unusual has to be reported. If we don't report it and someone else does, nice fools we shall look when we have to say we saw it. We couldn't say we didn't--several of the Mark have seen it. In fact, I shall go and report it now. Silflay's nearly over, so if I'm not back in time, you and Avens had better see the Mark underground yourselves."

        As soon as Chervil had left him, Bigwig went to look for Hyzenthlay. He found her in the hollow with Thethuthinnang. Most of the Mark did not appear to be unduly affected by the thunder, which was still distant, as Chervil had said. The two does, however, were subdued and nervous. Bigwig told them what he had arranged with Kehaar.

        "But will this bird really attack the sentries?" asked Thethuthinnang. "I've never heard of anything like that."

        "It will, I promise you. Get the does together as soon as silflay begins this evening. When I come out with Blackavar, the sentries will be running for cover."

        "And which way do we run?" asked Thethuthinnang.

        Bigwig took them well out into the field, so that they could see the distant arch in the embankment about four hundred yards away.

        "We're bound to meet Campion," said Thethuthinnang. "You know that?"

        "I believe he had some trouble stopping Blackavar," replied Bigwig. "So I'm sure he won't be good enough for me and the bird. Look, there's Avens bringing in the sentries--we'll have to go. Now, don't worry. Chew your pellets and get some sleep. If you can't sleep, sharpen up your claws: you may need them."

        The Mark went underground and Blackavar was taken away by the escort. Bigwig returned to his burrow and tried to put the coming evening out of his mind. After some time he gave up the idea of spending the day alone. He made a round of the lower burrows, joined a game of bob-stones, heard two stories and told one himself, passed hraka in the ditch and then, on an impulse, went to Chervil and obtained his consent to visit another Mark. He wandered across the Crixa, found himself in the middle of the ni-Frith silflay with the Left Flank Mark and went underground with them. Their officers shared a single large burrow and here he met some experienced veterans and listened with interest to their stories of Wide Patrols and other exploits. In the mid-afternoon he came back to the Near Hind relaxed and confident, and slept until one of the sentries woke him for silflay.

        He went up the run. Blackavar was already slumped in his alcove. Squatting beside Chervil, Bigwig watched the Mark go out. Hyzenthlay and Thethuthinnang passed him without a glance. They looked tense but steady. Chervil followed the last rabbit.

        Bigwig waited until he was sure that Chervil had had time to get well away from the hole. Then, with a last, quick look to where Blackavar was sitting, he went out himself. The bright sunset dazzled him and he sat up on his hind legs, blinking and combing the fur along one side of his face as his eyes got accustomed to the light. A few moments later he saw Kehaar come flying across the field.

        "This is it, then," he said to himself. "Here we go."

        At that moment a rabbit spoke from behind him.

        "Thlayli, I want a few words with you. Just come back under the bushes, will you?"

        Bigwig dropped on his front paws and looked round.

        It was General Woundwort.

*Marli--a doe. Tharn--stupefied, distraught. In this particular context, the nearest translation might be "the maiden all forlorn."

37.    The Thunder Builds Up

You k'n hide de fier, but w'at you gwine do wid de smoke?

Joel Chandler Harris, Proverbs of Uncle Remus

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.

*      *      *

        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."

*      *      *

        When he woke, he found that he was alone in the burrow. For a moment he wondered whether Hyzenthlay had been arrested. Then he felt sure that the Owslafa could not have removed her while he slept. She must have woken and slipped back to Thethuthinnang without disturbing him.

        It was a little before dawn, but the oppression in the air had not lessened. He slipped up the run to the entrance. Moneywort, the sentry on duty, was peering uneasily out of the mouth of the hole, but turned as he approached.

        "I wish it would rain, sir," he said. "The thunder's enough to turn the grass sour, but not much hope of it breaking before the evening, I'd say."

        "It's bad luck for the Mark's last day on dawn and evening," replied Bigwig. "Go and wake Captain Chervil. I'll take your place here until the Mark come up."

        When Moneywort had gone, Bigwig sat in the mouth of the hole and sniffed the heavy air. The sky seemed as close as the tops of the trees, covered with still cloud and flushed on the morning side with a lurid, foxy glow. Not a lark was up, not a thrush singing. The field before him was empty and motionless. The longing to run came over him. In less than no time he could be down to the arch. It was a safe bet that Campion and his patrol would not be out in weather like this. Every living creature up and down the fields and copses must be muted, pressed down as though under a great, soft paw. Nothing would be moving, for the day was unpropitious and instincts were blurred and not to be trusted. It was a time to crouch and be silent. But a fugitive would be safe. Indeed, he could not hope for a better chance.

        "O Lord with the starlight ears, send me a sign!" said Bigwig.

        He heard movement in the run behind him. It was the Owslafa bringing up the prisoner. In the thundery twilight, Blackavar looked more sick and dejected than ever. His nose was dry and the whites of his eyes showed. Bigwig went out into the field, pulled a mouthful of clover and brought it back.

        "Cheer up," he said to Blackavar. "Have some clover."

        "That's not allowed, sir," said one of the escort.

        "Oh, let him have it, Bartsia," said the other. "There's no one to see. It's hard enough for everyone on a day like this, let alone the prisoner."

        Blackavar ate the clover and Bigwig took up his usual place as Chervil arrived to watch the Mark go out.

        The rabbits were slow and hesitant and Chervil himself seemed unable to rise to his usual brisk manner. He had little to say as they passed him. He let both Thethuthinnang and Hyzenthlay go by in silence. Nelthilta, however, stopped of her own accord and stared impudently at him.

        "Under the weather, Captain?" she said "Brace up, now. You may have a surprise soon, who knows?"

        "What do you mean?" answered Chervil sharply.

        "Does might grow wings and fly," said Nelthilta, "and before very much longer, too. Secrets go faster than moles underground."

        She followed the other does into the field. For a moment Chervil looked as though he were going to call her back.

        "I wonder whether you could have a look at my off hind foot?" said Bigwig. "I think I've got a thorn in it."

        "Come on, then," said Chervil, "outside. Not that we'll be able to see much better there."

        But whether because he was still thinking about what Nelthilta had said, or for some other reason, he did not make a particularly thorough search for the thorn--which was perhaps as well, for there was no thorn there.

        "Oh, confound it!" he said, looking up, "there's that dratted white bird again. What's it keep coming here for?"      "Why does it worry you?" asked Bigwig. "It's not doing any harm--only looking for snails."

        "Anything out of the ordinary is a possible source of danger," replied Chervil, quoting Woundwort. "And you keep away from it today, Thlayli, d'you see? That's an order."

        "Oh, very well," said Bigwig. "But surely you know how to get rid of them? I thought all rabbits knew that." "Don't be ridiculous. You're not suggesting attacking a bird that size, with a beak as thick as my front paw?"

        "No, no--it's a sort of charm thing that my mother taught me. You know, like 'Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home.' That works and so does this--or it always used to with my mother."

        "The ladybird thing only works because all ladybirds crawl to the top of the stem and then fly."

        "Well, all right," said Bigwig, "have it your own way. But you don't like the bird and I've offered to get rid of it for you. We had a lot of these charms and sayings in my old warren. I only wish we'd had one to get rid of men."

        "Well, what is the charm?" said Chervil.

        "You say,

                "O fly away, great bird so white,

                 And don't come back until tonight.

"Of course, you have to use hedgerow talk. No use expecting them to understand Lapine. Let's have a go, anyway. If it doesn't work, we're none the worse, and if it does, the Mark will think it was you who drove the bird away. Where's it got to? I can hardly see anything in this light. Oh, there it is, look, behind those thistles. Well, you run like this. Now you have to hop to this side, then to the other side, scratch with your legs--that's right, splendid--cock your ears and then go straight on until--ah! Here we are; now then:

                "O fly away, great bird so white,

                 And don't come back until tonight.

"There you are, you see. It did work. I think there's more than we know to some of these old rhymes and spells. Of course, it might have been just going to fly away anyway. But you must admit it's gone."

        "Probably all that prancing about as we came up to it," said Chervil sourly. "We must have looked completely mad. What on earth will the Mark think? Anyway, now we're out here, we may as well go round the sentries."

        "I'll stop and feed, if you don't mind," said Bigwig. "I didn't get much last night, you know."

*      *      *

        Bigwig's luck was not altogether out. Later that morning, quite unexpectedly, he came upon a chance to talk to Blackavar alone. He had been through the sweltering burrows, finding everywhere quick breathing and feverish pulses; and he was just wondering whether he could not plausibly go and press Chervil to ask the Council's permission for the Mark to spend part of the day in the bushes above ground--for that might very well bring some sort of opportunity with it--when he began to feel the need to pass hraka. No rabbit passes hraka underground: and, like schoolchildren who know that they cannot very well be refused a request to go to the lavatory as long as it is not too soon after the last time, the Efrafan rabbits used to slip into the ditch for a breath of air and a change of scene. Although they were not supposed to be allowed to go more often than was necessary, some of the Owsla were easier than others. As Bigwig approached the hole that led into the ditch, he found two or three young bucks loitering in the run and, as usual, set himself to act his part as convincingly as he could.

        "Why are you hanging about here?" he asked.

        "The prisoner's escort are up at the hole and they turned us back, sir," answered one. "They're not letting anyone out for the moment."

        "Not to pass hraka?" said Bigwig.

        "No, sir."

        Indignant, Bigwig made his way to the mouth of the hole. Here he found Blackavar's escort talking to the sentry on duty.

        "I'm afraid you can't go out for the moment, sir," said Bartsia. "The prisoner's in the ditch, but he won't be long."

        "Neither shall I," said Bigwig. "Just get out of the way, will you?" He pushed Bartsia to one side and hopped into the ditch.

        The day had become even more lowering and overcast. Blackavar was squatting a little way off, under an overhanging plume of cow parsley. The flies were walking on his shreds of ears, but he seemed not to notice them. Bigwig went along the ditch and squatted beside him.

        "Blackavar, listen," he said quickly. "This is the truth, by Frith and the Black Rabbit. I am a secret enemy of Efrafa. No one knows this but you and a few of the Mark does. I'm going to escape with them tonight and I'm going to take you as well. Don't do anything yet. When the time comes I'll be there to tell you. Just brace up and get yourself ready."

        Without waiting for an answer, he moved away as though to find a better spot. Even so, he was back at the hole before Blackavar, who evidently meant to stay outside for as long as the escort--clearly in no hurry themselves--would allow.

        "Sir," said Bartsia, as Bigwig came in, "that's the third time, sir, that you've disregarded my authority. Council police can't be treated in this way. I'm afraid I shall have to report it, sir."

        Bigwig made no reply and returned up the run.

        "Wait a bit longer if you can," he said as he passed the bucks. "I don't suppose that poor fellow will get out again today."

        He wondered whether to go and look for Hyzenthlay, but decided that it would be prudent to keep away from her. She knew what to do, and the less they were seen together the better. His head ached in the heat and he wanted only to be alone and quiet. He went back to his burrow and slept.

38.    The Thunder Breaks

Why, now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark!

The storm is up and all is on the hazard!

Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Late in the afternoon it came on dark and very close. It was plain that there would be no true sunset. On the green path by the riverbank, Hazel sat fidgeting as he tried to imagine what might be going on in Efrafa.

        "He told you he wanted you to attack the sentries while the rabbits were feeding, didn't he," he said to Kehaar, "and that he'd bring the mothers out in the confusion?"

        "Ya, say dis, but not 'appen. Den 'e say go away, come again tonight."

        "So that's still what he means to do. The question is, when will they be feeding? It's getting dark already. Silver, what do you think?"

        "If I know them, they won't alter anything they usually do," said Silver. "But if you're worried in case we're not there in time, why not go now?"

        "Because they're always patrolling. The longer we wait up there, the greater the risk. If a patrol finds us before Bigwig comes, it won't be just a matter of getting ourselves away. They'll realize we're there for some purpose and give the alarm, and that'll be the end of any chance he's got."

        "Listen, Hazel-rah," said Blackberry. "We ought to reach the iron road at the same time as Bigwig and not a moment before. Why don't you take them all over the river now and wait in the undergrowth, near the boat? Once Kehaar's attacked the sentries, he can fly back and tell us."

        "Yes, that's it," answered Hazel. "But once he's told us, we must get up there in no time at all. Bigwig's going to need us as well as Kehaar."

        "Well, you won't be able to dash up to the arch," said Fiver, "with your leg. The best thing you can do is to get on the boat and have the rope gnawed half through by the time we come back. Silver can look after the fighting, if there's going to be any."

        Hazel hesitated. "But some of us are probably going to get hurt. I can't stay behind."

        "Fiver's right," said Blackberry. "You will have to wait on the boat, Hazel. We can't risk your being left to be picked up by the Efrafans. Besides, it's very important that the rope should be half gnawed--that's a job for someone sensible. It mustn't break too soon or we're all finished."

        It took them some time to persuade Hazel. When at last he agreed, he was still reluctant.

        "If Bigwig doesn't come tonight," he said, "I shall go and find him, wherever he is. Frith knows what may have happened already."

        As they set off up the left bank, the wind began to blow in fitful, warm gusts, with a multifoliate rustling through the sedges. They had just reached the plank bridge when there came a rumble of thunder. In the intense, strange light, the plants and leaves seemed magnified and the fields beyond the river very near. There was an oppressive stillness.

        "You know, Hazel-rah," said Bluebell, "this really is the funniest evening I've ever gone looking for a doe."

        "It's going to get a lot funnier soon," said Silver. "There'll be lightning and pouring rain. For goodness' sake, all of you, don't panic, or we'll never see our warren again. I think this is going to be a rough business," he added quietly to Hazel. "I don't like it much."

*      *      *

        Bigwig woke to hear his name repeated urgently.

        "Thlayli! Thlayli! Wake up! Thlayli!"

        It was Hyzenthlay.

        "What is it?" he said. "What's the matter?"

        "Nelthilta's been arrested."

        Bigwig leaped to his feet.

        "How long ago? How did it happen?"

        "Just now. Moneywort came down to our burrow and told her to come up to Captain Chervil at once. I followed them up the run. When she got to Chervil's burrow, there were two Council police waiting just outside and one of them said to Chervil, 'Well, as quick as you can, and don't be long.' And then they took her straight out. They must have gone to the Council. Oh, Thlayli, what shall we do? She'll tell them everything--"

        "Listen to me," said Bigwig. "There's not a moment to lose. Go and get Thethuthinnang and the others and bring them up to this burrow. I shan't be here, but you must wait quietly until I come back. It won't be long. Quick now! Everything depends on it."

        Hyzenthlay had hardly disappeared down the run when Bigwig heard another rabbit approaching from the opposite direction.

        "Who's there?" he said, turning swiftly.

        "Chervil," answered the other. "I'm glad you're awake. Listen, Thlayli, there's going to be a whole lot of trouble.

Nelthilta's been arrested by the Council. I was sure she would be, after my report to Vervain this morning. Whatever it was she was talking about, they'll get it out of her. I dare say the General will be here himself as soon as he knows what's what. Now look here, I've got to go over to the Council burrow at once. You and Avens are to stay here and get the sentries on duty immediately. There'll be no silflay and no one is to go outside for any reason whatever. All the holes are to be double-guarded. Now, you understand these orders, don't you?"

        "Have you told Avens?"

        "I haven't time to go looking for Avens; he's not in his burrow. Go and alert the sentries yourself. Send someone to find Avens and someone else to tell Bartsia that Blackavar won't be wanted this evening. Then sit on those holes--and the hraka holes, too--with every sentry you've got. For all I know, there may be some plot to make a break-out. We arrested Nelthilta as quietly as we could, but the Mark are bound to realize what's happened. If necessary you're to get rough, do you see? Now I'm off."

        "Right," said Bigwig. "I'll get busy at once."

        He followed Chervil to the top of the run. The sentry at the hole was Marjoram. As he stood clear to let Chervil pass, Bigwig came up behind him and looked out into the overcast.

        "Did Chervil tell you?" he said. "Silflay's early tonight, on account of the weather. The orders are that we're to get on with it at once."

        He waited for Marjoram's reply. If Chervil had already told him that no one was to go out, it would be necessary to fight him. But after a moment Marjoram said, "Have you heard any thunder yet?"

        "Get on with it at once, I said," answered Bigwig. "Go down and get Blackavar and the escort up, and be quick, too. We'll need to get the Mark out immediately if they're to feed before the storm breaks."

        Marjoram went and Bigwig hurried back to his own burrow. Hyzenthlay had lost no time. Three or four does were crammed into the burrow itself and nearby, in a side run, Thethuthinnang was crouching with several more. All were silent and frightened and one or two were close to the stupefaction of terror.

        "This is no time to go tharn," said Bigwig. "Your lives depend on doing as I say. Listen, now. Blackavar and the police guards will be up directly. Marjoram will probably come up behind them and you must find some excuse to keep him talking. Soon after, you'll hear fighting, because I'm going to attack the police guards. When you hear that, come up as fast as you can and follow me out into the field. Don't stop for anything."

        As he finished speaking, he heard the unmistakable sound of Blackavar and the guards approaching. Blackavar's weary, dragging gait was like that of no other rabbit. Without waiting for the does to reply, Bigwig returned to the mouth of the run. The three rabbits came up in single file, Bartsia leading.

        "I'm afraid I've brought you up here for nothing," said Bigwig. "I've just been told that silflay's canceled for this evening. Have a look outside and you'll see why."

        As Bartsia went to look out of the hole, Bigwig slipped quickly between him and Blackavar.

        "Well, it looks very stormy, certainly," said Bartsia, "but I shouldn't have thought--"

        "Now, Blackavar!" cried Bigwig, and leaped on Bartsia from behind.

        Bartsia fell forward out of the hole with Bigwig on top of him. He was not a member of the Owslafa for nothing and was reckoned a good fighter. As they rolled over on the ground, he turned his head and sank his teeth in Bigwig's shoulder. He had been trained to get a grip at once and to hold it at all costs. More than once in the past this had served him well. But in fighting a rabbit of Bigwig's strength and courage it proved a mistake. His best chance would have been to keep clear and use his claws. He retained his hold like a dog, and Bigwig, snarling, brought both his own back legs forward, sank his feet in Bartsia's side and then, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, forced himself upward. He felt Bartsia's closed teeth come tearing out through his flesh and then he was standing above him as he fell back on the ground, kicking helplessly. Bigwig leaped clear. It was plain that Bartsia's haunch was injured. He struggled, but could not get up.

        "Think yourself lucky," said Bigwig, bleeding and cursing, "that I don't kill you."

        Without waiting to see what Bartsia would do, he jumped back into the hole. He found Blackavar grappling with the other guard. Just beyond them, Hyzenthlay was coming up the run with Thethuthinnang behind her. Bigwig gave the guard a tremendous cuff on the side of the head, which knocked him clear across the run and into the prisoner's alcove. He picked himself up, panting, and stared at Bigwig without a word.

        "Don't move," said Bigwig. "There'll be worse to come if you do. Blackavar, are you all right?"

        "Yes, sir," said Blackavar, "but what do we do now?"

        "Follow me," said Bigwig, "all of you. Come on!"

        He led the way out again. There was no sign of Bartsia, but as he looked back to make sure that the others were following, he caught a glimpse of the astonished face of Avens peering out of the other hole.

        "Captain Chervil wants you!" he called, and dashed away into the field.

        As he reached the clump of thistles where he had spoken to Kehaar that morning, a long roll of thunder sounded from across the valley beyond. A few great, warm drops of rain were falling. Along the western horizon the lower clouds formed a single purple mass, against which distant trees stood out minute and sharp. The upper edges rose into the light, a far land of wild mountains. Copper-colored, weightless and motionless, they suggested a glassy fragility like that of frost. Surely, when the thunder struck them again they would vibrate, tremble and shatter, till warm shards, sharp as icicles, fell flashing down from the ruins. Racing through the ocher light, Bigwig was impelled by a frenzy of tension and energy. He did not feel the wound in his shoulder. The storm was his own. The storm would defeat Efrafa.

        He was well out into the great field and looking for a sight of the distant arch when he felt along the ground the first stamping thuds of the alarm. He pulled up and looked about him. There did not seem to be any stragglers. The does--however many there were--were well up with him, but scattered to either side. Rabbits in flight tend to keep away from each other, and the does had opened out as they left the hole. If there was a patrol between him and the iron road they would not get past it without loss unless they came closer together. He would have to collect them, despite the delay. Then another thought came to him. If they could get out of sight, their pursuers might be puzzled, for the rain and the failing light would make tracking difficult.

        The rain was falling faster now and the wind was rising. Over on the evening side, a hedge ran down the length of the field toward the iron road. He saw Blackavar nearby and ran across to him.

        "I want everyone the other side of that hedge," he said. "Can you get hold of some of them and bring them that way?"

        Bigwig remembered that Blackavar knew nothing except that they were on the run. There was no time to explain about Hazel and the river.

        "Go straight to that ash tree in the hedge," he said, "and take all the does you can pick up on the way. Get through to the other side and I'll be there as soon as you are."

        At this moment Hyzenthlay and Thethuthinnang came running toward them, followed by two or three other does. They were plainly confused and uncertain.

        "The stamping, Thlayli!" panted Thethuthinnang. "They're coming!"

        "Well, run, then," said Bigwig. "Keep near me, all of you."

        They were better runners than he had dared to hope. As they made for the ash tree, more does fell in with them and it seemed to him that they ought now to be a match for a patrol, unless it were a very strong one. Once through the hedge he turned south and, keeping close beside it, led them down the slope. There, ahead of him, was the arch in the overgrown embankment. But would Hazel be there? And where was Kehaar?

*      *      *

        "Well, and what was to happen after that, Nelthilta?" asked General Woundwort. "Make sure you tell us everything, because we know a good deal already. Let her alone, Vervain," he added. "She can't talk if you keep cuffing her, you fool."

        "Hyzenthlay said--oh! oh!--she said a big bird would attack the Owsla sentries," gasped Nelthilta, "and we would run away in the confusion. And then--"

        "She said a bird would attack the sentries?" interrupted Woundwort, puzzled. "Are you telling the truth? What sort of a bird?"

        "I don't--I don't know," panted Nelthilta. "The new officer--she said he had told the bird--"

        "What do you know about a bird?" said Woundwort, turning to Chervil.

        "I reported it, sir," replied Chervil. "You'll not forget, sir, that I reported the bird--"

        There was a scuffling outside the crowded Council burrow and Avens came pushing his way in.

        "The new officer, sir!" he cried. "He's gone! Taken a crowd of the Mark does with him. Jumped on Bartsia and broke his leg, sir! Blackavar's cut and run, too. We never had a chance to stop them. Goodness knows how many have joined him. Thlayli--it's Thlayli's doing!"

        "Thlayli?" cried Woundwort. "Embleer Frith, I'll blind him when I catch him! Chervil, Vervain, Avens--yes and you two as well--come with me. Which way has he gone?"

        "He was going downhill, sir," answered Avens.

        "Lead the way you saw him take," said Woundwort.

        As they came out from the Crixa, two or three of the Efrafan officers checked at the sight of the murky light and increasing rain. But the sight of the General was more alarming still. Pausing only to stamp the escape alarm, they set out behind him toward the iron road.

        Very soon they came upon traces of blood which the rain had not yet washed away, and these they followed toward the ash tree in the hedge to the west of the warren.

*      *      *

        Bigwig came out from the further side of the railway arch, sat up and looked round him. There was no sign either of Hazel or of Kehaar. For the first time since he had attacked Bartsia he began to feel uncertain and troubled. Perhaps, after all, Kehaar had not understood his cryptic message that morning? Or had some disaster overtaken Hazel and the rest? If they were dead--scattered--if there was no one left alive to meet him? He and his does would wander about the fields until the patrols hunted them down.

        "No, it shan't come to that," said Bigwig to himself. "At the worst we can cross the river and try to hide in the woodland. Confound this shoulder! It's going to be more nuisance than I thought. Well, I'll try to get them down to the plank bridge at least. If we're not overtaken soon, perhaps the rain will discourage whoever's after us; but I doubt it."

        He turned back to the does waiting under the arch. Most of them looked bewildered. Hyzenthlay had promised that they were to be protected by a great bird and that the new officer was going to work a secret trick to evade the pursuit--a trick which would defeat even the General. These things had not happened. They were wet through. Runnels of water were trickling through the arch from the uphill side, and the bare earth was beginning to turn into mud. Ahead of them there was nothing to be seen but a track leading through the nettles into another wide and empty field.

        "Come on," said Bigwig. "It's not far now and then we'll all be safe. This way."

        All the rabbits obeyed him at once. There was something to be said for Efrafan discipline, thought Bigwig grimly, as they left the arch and met the force of the rain.

        Along one side of the field, beside the elms, farm tractors had pounded a broad, flat path downhill toward the

water meadow below--that same path up which he had run three nights before, after he had left Hazel by the boat. It was turning muddy now--unpleasant going for rabbits--but at least it led straight to the river and was open enough for Kehaar to spot them if he should turn up.

        He had just begun to run once more when a rabbit overtook him.

        ''Stop, Thlayli! What are you doing here? Where are you going?"

        Bigwig had been half expecting Campion to appear and had made up his mind to kill him if necessary. But now that he actually saw him at his side, disregarding the storm and the mud, self-possessed as he led his patrol, no more than four strong, into the thick of a pack of desperate runaways, he could feel only what a pity it was that the two of them should be enemies and how much he would have liked to have taken Campion with him out of Efrafa.

        "Go away," he said. "Don't try to stop us, Campion. I don't want to hurt you."

        He glanced to his other side. "Blackavar, get the does to close up. If there are any stragglers the patrol will jump on them."

        "You'd do better to give in now," said Campion, still running beside him. "I shan't let you out of my sight, wherever you go. There's an escape patrol on the way--I heard the signal. When they get here you won't stand a chance. You're bleeding badly now."

        "Curse you!" cried Bigwig, striking at him. "You'll bleed too, before I've done."

        "Can I fight him, sir?" said Blackavar. "He won't beat me a second time."

        "No," answered Bigwig, "he's only trying to delay us. Keep running."

        "Thlayli!" cried Thethuthinnang suddenly, from behind him. "The General! The General! Oh, what shall we do?"

        Bigwig looked back. It was indeed a sight to strike terror into the bravest heart. Woundwort had come through the arch ahead of his followers and was running toward them by himself, snarling with fury. Behind him came the patrol. In one quick glance Bigwig recognized Chervil, Avens and Groundsel. With them were several more, including a heavy, savage-looking rabbit whom he guessed to be Vervain, the head of the Council police. It crossed his mind that if he were to run, immediately and alone, they would probably let him go as he had come, and feel glad to be so easily rid of him. Certainly the alternative was to be killed. At this moment Blackavar spoke.

        "Never mind, sir," he said. "You did your very best and it nearly came off. We may even be able to kill one or two of them before it's finished. Some of these does can fight well when they're put to it."

        Bigwig rubbed his nose quickly against Blackavar's mutilated ear and sat back on his haunches as Woundwort came up to them.

        "You dirty little beast," said Woundwort. "I hear you've attacked one of the Council police and broken his leg. We'll settle with you here. There's no need to take you back to Efrafa."

        "You crack-brained slave-driver," answered Bigwig. "I'd like to see you try."

        "All right," said Woundwort, "that's enough. Who have we got? Vervain, Campion, put him down. The rest of you, start getting these does back to the warren. The prisoner you can leave to me."