Watership Down (Watership Down 1)

' "That's good of you," said El-ahrairah, "but I think I've got my bearings now and I can manage by myself."

'El-ahrairah went along the hedgerow to the wood and sat alone under a nut-bush, looking out across the fields. As the light began to fail, he suddenly realized that Lord Frith was close beside him, among the leaves.

' "Are you angry, El-ahrairah?" asked Lord Frith.

' "No, my lord," replied El-ahrairah, "I am not angry. But I have learned that with creatures one loves, suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them. A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, even though he may think otherwise himself."

' "Wisdom is found on the desolate hillside, El-ahrairah, where none comes to feed, and the stony bank where the rabbit scratches a hole in vain. But speaking of gifts, I have brought a few trifles for you. A pair of ears, a tail and some whiskers. You may find the ears slightly strange at first. I put a little starlight in them, but it is really quite faint: not enough, I am sure, to give away a clever thief like you. Ah, there is Rabscuttle coming back. Good, I have something for him too. Shall we -" '

'Hazel! Hazel-rah!' It was Pipkin's voice from behind a clumb of burdock on the edge of the little circle of listeners. 'There's a fox coming up the combe!'

32. Across the Iron Road

Esprit de rivalite et de mesintelligence qui preserva plus d'une fois l'armee anglaise d'une defaite.

General Jourdan Memoires Militaires

Some people have the idea that rabbits spend a good deal of their time running away from foxes. It is true that every rabbit fears the fox and will bolt if it smells one. But many rabbits go all their lives without seeing a fox and probably only a few actually fall victim to an enemy who smells strongly and cannot run as fast as they can. A fox trying to catch a rabbit usually creeps upwind under cover - perhaps through a patch of woodland to the edge. Then, if he succeeds in getting close to where the rabbits are at silflay along the bank or in the field, he lies still and watches his chance for a quick snatch. It is said that sometimes he fascinates them, as the weasel does, by rolling and playing in the open, coming closer little by little until he can make a grab. However this may be, it is certain that no fox hunts rabbits by going openly up a combe at sunset.

Neither Hazel nor any of the rabbits who had been listening to Dandelion's story had ever seen a fox. Nevertheless, they knew that a fox in the open, plain to be seen, is not dangerous as long as it is spotted in time. Hazel realized that he had been careless to allow everyone to gather round Dandelion and to have failed to post even one sentry. What wind there was, was from the north-east and the fox, coming up the combe from the west, might have broken in upon them without warning. But from this danger they had been saved by Fiver and Pipkin going into the open. Even in his flash of alarm as Pipkin spoke, it crossed Hazel's mind that Fiver, no doubt reluctant to advise him in front of the others, had probably seized the opportunity provided by Pipkin's fear to post himself as a sentry.

Hazel thought quickly. If the fox were not too close, all they had to do was run. There was woodland near-by and they could vanish into it, keeping more or less together, and simply continue on their way. He pushed through the burdocks.

'How close is it?' he asked. 'And where's Fiver?'

'I'm here,' replied Fiver, from a few yards away. He was squatting under the long briars of a dog-rose and did not turn his head as Hazel came up beside him. 'And there's the fox,' he added. Hazel followed his gaze.

The rough, weed-covered ground of the combe sloped away below them, a long dip bounded on the north by Caesar's Belt. The last of the setting sun shone straight up it through a break in the trees. The fox was below them and still some way off. Although it was almost directly downwind and therefore must be able to smell them, it did not look as though it were particularly interested in rabbits. It was trotting steadily up the combe like a dog, trailing its white-tipped brush. In colour it was sandy brown, with dark legs and ears. Even now, though obviously not hunting, it had a crafty, predatory look that made the watchers among the dog-roses shiver. As it passed behind a patch of thistles and disappeared from view, Hazel and Fiver returned to the others.

'Come on,' said Hazel. 'If you've never seen a fox don't bother to go and look now. Just follow me.'

He was about to lead the way up the south side of the combe, when suddenly a rabbit shouldered him roughly aside, pushed past Fiver and was gone into the open. Hazel stopped and looked round in amazement.

'Who was that?' he asked.

'Bigwig,' answered Fiver, staring.

Together they went quickly back to the briars and once more looked into the combe. Bigwig, in full view, was loping warily downhill, straight towards the fox. They watched him aghast. He drew near, but still the fox paid no attention.

'Hazel,' said Silver from behind, 'shall I -?'

'No one is to move,' said Hazel quickly. 'Keep still, all of you.'

At about thirty yards' distance the fox saw the approaching rabbit. It paused for a moment and then continued to trot forwards. It was almost upon him before Bigwig turned and began to limp up the north slope of the combe towards the trees of the Belt. The fox hesitated again and then followed him.

'What's he up to?' muttered Blackberry.

'Trying to draw it off, I suppose,' replied Fiver.

'But he didn't have to! We should have got away without that.'

'Confounded fool!' said Hazel. 'I don't know when I've been so angry.'

The fox had quickened its pace and was now some distance away from them. It appeared to be overtaking Bigwig. The sun had set and in the failing light they could just make him out as he entered the undergrowth. He disappeared and the fox followed. For several moments all was quiet. Then, horribly clear across the darkening, empty combe, there came the agonizing squeal of a stricken rabbit.

'O Frith and Inle!' cried Blackberry, stamping. Pipkin turned to bolt. Hazel did not move.

'Shall we go, Hazel?' asked Silver. 'We can't help him now.'