Authors: Richard Adams
Hazel and Bigwig had decided that the raid should be carried out as soon after dark as the farm was quiet. This meant that they would cover the half mile to the outlying sheds at sunset, instead of risking the confusion of a night journey over ground that only Hazel knew. They could steal a meal among the swedes, halt till darkness and cover the short distance to the farm after a good rest. Then--provided they could cope with the cats--there would be plenty of time to tackle the hutch; whereas if they were to arrive at dawn they would be working against time before men came on the scene. Finally, the hutch rabbits would not be missed until the following morning.
"And remember," said Hazel, "it'll probably take these rabbits a long time to get to the down. We shall have to be patient with them. I'd rather do that in darkness, elil or no elil. We don't want to be messing about in broad daylight."
"If it comes to the worst," said Bigwig, "we can leave the hutch rabbits and bolt. Elil take the hindmost, don't they? I know it's tough, but if there's real trouble we ought to save our own rabbits first. Let's hope that doesn't happen, though."
When they came to set out, Fiver was nowhere to be seen. Hazel felt relieved, for he had been afraid that Fiver might say something that would lower their spirits. But there was nothing worse to contend with than Pipkin's disappointment at being left behind; and this was dispelled when Hazel assured him that the only reason was that he had already done his bit. Bluebell, Acorn and Pipkin came with them to the foot of the hill and watched them down the hedgerow.
They reached the sheds in the twilight after sunset The summer nightfall was unbroken by owls and so quiet that they could plainly hear the intermittent, monotonous "Chug chug chug" of a nightingale in the distant woods. Two rats among the swedes showed their teeth, thought better of it and left them alone. When they had foraged, they rested comfortably in the straw until the western light was quite gone.
Rabbits do not name the stars, but nevertheless Hazel was familiar with the sight of Capella rising; and he watched it now until it stood gold and bright in the dark northeastern horizon to the right of the farm. When it reached a certain point which he had fixed, beside a bare branch, he roused the others and led them up the slope toward the elms. Near the top he slipped through the hedge and brought them down into the lane.
Hazel had already told Bigwig of his promise to Fiver to keep out of danger; and Bigwig, who had changed much since the early days, had no fault to find.
"If that's what Fiver says, you'd better do it, Hazel," he said. "Anyhow it'll suit us. You stay outside the farm in a safe place and we'll bring the rabbits out to you: then you can take over and get us all away." What Hazel had not said was that the idea that he should remain in the lane was his own suggestion, and that Fiver had acquiesced only because he could not persuade him to give up the idea of the raid altogether.
Crouching under a fallen branch on the verge of the lane, Hazel watched the others as they followed Bigwig down toward the farmyard. They went slowly, rabbit fashion, hop, step and pause. The night was dark and they were soon out of sight, though he could hear them moving down the side of the long barn. He settled down to wait.
Bigwig's hopes of action were fulfilled almost at once. The cat that he met as he reached the far end of the barn was not Hazel's tabby, but another; ginger, black and white (and therefore a female); one of those slim, trotting, quick-moving, tail-twitching cats that sit on farm windowsills in the rain or keep watch from the tops of sacks on sunny afternoons. It came briskly round the corner of the barn, saw the rabbits and stopped dead.
Without an instant's hesitation Bigwig went straight for it, as though it had been the beech branch on the down. But quicker even than he Dandelion ran forward, scratched it and leaped clear. As it turned, Bigwig threw his full weight upon it from the other side. The cat closed with him, biting and scratching, and Bigwig rolled over on the ground. The others could hear him swearing like a cat himself and struggling for a hold. Then he sank one back leg into the cat's side and kicked backward rapidly, several times.
Anyone who is familiar with cats knows that they do not care for a determined assailant. A dog that tries to make itself pleasant to a cat may very well get scratched for its pains. But let that same dog rush in to the attack and many a cat will not wait to meet it. The farm cat was bewildered by the speed and fury of Bigwig's charge. It was no weakling and a good ratter, but it had the bad luck to be up against a dedicated fighter who was spoiling for action. As it scrabbled out of Bigwig's reach, Speedwell cuffed it across the face. This was the last blow struck, for the wounded cat made off across the yard and disappeared under the fence of the cow byre.
Bigwig was bleeding from three deep, parallel scratches on the inside of one hind leg. The others gathered round, praising him, but he cut them short, looking round the dark yard as he tried to get his bearings.
"Come on," he said. "Quickly, too, while the dog's still quiet. The shed: the hutch--where do we go?"
It was Hawkbit who found the little yard. Hazel had been anxious in case the shed door might be shut; but it stood just ajar and the five of them slipped in one after the other. In the thick gloom they could not make out the hutch, but they could both smell and hear the rabbits.
"Blackberry," said Bigwig quickly, "you come with me and get the hutch open. You other three, keep watching.
If another cat comes, you'll have to take it on yourselves."
"Fine," said Dandelion. "Just leave it to us."
Bigwig and Blackberry found the straw bale and climbed on the planks. As they did so, Boxwood spoke from the hutch.
"Who's that? Hazel-rah, have you come back?"
"Hazel-rah has sent us," answered Blackberry. "We've come to let you out. Will you come with us?"
There was a pause and some movement in the hay and then Clover replied, "Yes, let us out."
Blackberry sniffed his way round to the wire door and sat up, nosing over the frame, the hasp and the staple. It took him some time to realize that the leather hinges were soft enough to bite. Then he found that they lay so smooth and flush with the frame that he could not get his teeth to them. Several times he tried to find a grip and at last sat back on his haunches, at a loss.
"I don't-think this door's going to be any good," he said. "I wonder whether there's some other way?"
At that moment it happened that Boxwood stood on his hind legs and put his front paws high on the wire. Beneath his weight the top of the door was pressed slightly outward and the upper of the two leather hinges gave slightly where the outer nail held it to the body of the hutch itself. As Boxwood dropped back on all fours, Blackberry saw that the hinge had buckled and risen just clear of the wood.
"Try it now," he said to Bigwig.
Bigwig got his teeth to the hinge and pulled. It tore a very little.
"By Frith, that'll do," said Blackberry, for all the world like the Duke of Wellington at Salamanca. "We just need time, that's all."
The hinge had been well made and did not give way until they had put it to a great deal more tugging and biting. Dandelion grew nervous and twice gave a false alarm. Bigwig, realizing that the sentries were on the jump from watching and waiting with nothing to do, changed places with him and sent Speedwell up to take over from Blackberry. When at last Dandelion and Speedwell had pulled the leather strip off the nail, Bigwig came back to the hutch himself. But they did not seem much nearer to success. Whenever one of the rabbits inside stood up and rested its forepaws on the upper part of the wire, the door pivoted lightly on the axis of the staple and the lower hinge. But the lower hinge did not tear. Blowing through his whiskers with impatience, Bigwig brought Blackberry back from the threshold. "What's to be done?" he said. "We need some magic, like that lump of wood you shoved into the river."
Blackberry looked at the door as Boxwood, inside, pushed it again. The upright of the frame pressed tight against the lower strip of leather, but it held smooth and firm, offering no purchase for teeth.
"Push it the other way--push from this side," he said, "You push, Bigwig. Tell that rabbit inside to get down."
When Bigwig stood up and pushed the top of the door inward, the frame immediately pivoted much further than before, because there was no sill along the bottom of the outer side to stop it. The leather hinge twisted and Bigwig nearly lost his balance. If it had not been for the metal staple arresting the pivoting, he might actually have fallen inside the hutch. Startled, he jumped back, growling.
"Well, you said magic, didn't you?" said Blackberry with satisfaction. "Do it again."
No strip of leather held by only one broad-headed nail at each end can stand up for long to repeated twisting. Soon one of the nailheads was almost out of sight under the frayed edges.
"Careful now," said Blackberry. "If it gives way suddenly, you'll go flying. Just pull it off with your teeth."
Two minutes later the door hung sagging on the staple alone. Clover pushed the hinge side open and came out,
followed by Boxwood.
When several creatures--men or animals--have worked together to overcome something offering resistance and have at last succeeded, there follows often a pause--as though they felt the propriety of paying respect to the adversary who has put up so good a fight. The great tree falls, splitting, cracking, rushing down in leaves to the final, shuddering blow along the ground. Then the foresters are silent, and do not at once sit down. After hours, the deep snowdrift has been cleared and the lorry is ready to take the men home out of the cold. But they stand a while, leaning on their spades and only nodding unsmilingly as the car-drivers go through, waving their thanks. The cunning hutch door had become nothing but a piece of wire netting, tacked to a frame made from four strips of half-by-half; and the rabbits sat on the planks, sniffing and nosing it without talking. After a little while the other two occupants of the hutch, Laurel and Haystack, came hesitantly out and looked about them.
"Where is Hazel-rah?" asked Laurel.
"Not far away," said Blackberry. "He's waiting in the lane."
"What is the lane?"
"The lane?" said Blackberry in surprise. "Surely--"
He stopped as it came over him that these rabbits knew neither lane nor farmyard. They had not the least idea of their most immediate surroundings. He was reflecting on what this meant when Bigwig spoke.
"We mustn't wait about now," he said. "Follow me, all of you."
"But where?" said Boxwood.
"Well, out of here, of course," said Bigwig impatiently. Boxwood looked about him. "I don't know--" he began.
"Well, I do," said Bigwig. "Just come with us. Never mind anything else."
The hutch rabbits looked at each other in bewilderment. It was plain that they were afraid of the great, bristling buck, with his strange shock of fur and his smell of fresh blood. They did not know what to do or understand what was expected of them. They remembered Hazel; they had been excited by the forcing of the door and curious to come through it once it was open. Otherwise, they had no purpose whatever and no means of forming one. They had no more idea of what was involved than a small child who says he will accompany the climbers up the fell.
Blackberry's heart sank. What was to be done with them? Left to themselves, they would hop slowly about the shed and the yard until the cats got them. Of their own accord they could no more run to the hills than fly to the moon. Was there no simple, plain idea that might get them--or some of them--on the move? He turned to Clover.
"I don't suppose you've ever eaten grass by night," he said. "It tastes much better than by day. Let's all go and have some, shall we?"
"Oh, yes," said Clover, "I'd like that. But will it be safe? We're all very much afraid of the cats, you know. They come and stare at us sometimes through the wire and it makes us shiver."
This showed at least the beginnings of sense, thought Blackberry.
"The big rabbit is a match for any cat," he replied. "He nearly killed one on the way here tonight."
"And he doesn't want to fight another if he can help it" said Bigwig briskly. "So if you
do
want to eat grass by moonlight, let's go to where Hazel-rah's waiting for us."