"He could perceive that you had never seen the Hole in the Sky. Never speak of it again. Rabbits who have seen it, like yourself, don't want to talk about it, and those who haven't only think you're strange."
El-ahrairah took the experience to heart and felt himself the wiser. He never again saw the Hole in the Sky, and he never spoke glibly about it, especially to rabbits who he could perceive had undergone suffering something like his own.
6
The Rabbit's Ghost Story
There ain't from a man to a sheep in these parts uses
Wailin' Well, nor haven't done all the years I've lived here.
M. R. JAMES, "Wailing Well"
Of the five Efrafans who surrendered to Fiver in the ravaged Honeycomb on the morning of Woundwort's defeat, four came in a short time to be liked well enough by Hazel and his friends.
Groundsel, indeed, who possessed a skill in patrolling even greater than Blackavar's, was, despite his passionate devotion to the General's memory, a valuable addition to the warren, while young Thistle, freed from Efrafan discipline, soon developed a most attractive warmth and gaiety.
The exception was Coltsfoot. Nobody knew what to make of Coltsfoot. A dour, silent rabbit, civil enough to Hazel and Bigwig but inclined to be distinctly brusque in his dealings with others, he had little enough to say even to his fellow Efrafans. On silflay he was nearly always to be seen grazing yards away from anybody else; and certainly no one would have dreamed of asking him to tell a story.
Hazel, when Bigwig complained to him one day about "that pestilential fellow with a face as long as a rook's beak," counseled letting him alone, since that seemed to be what he wanted, and waiting to see how he would go on as he came to feel more at home.
Bluebell, asked to refrain from jokes at Coltsfoot's expense, remarked that he was always mistaking his silent, mournful stare for that of a cow which had got shrunk in the rain.
The first part of the winter following that momentous summer turned out deceptively mild. November was full of sunny days, bringing out the tiny, white flowers of chickweed and shepherd's purse and even, here and there below the Down, breaking the smooth, black knobs of ash buds and disclosing the tiny, dark-red styles along the nut-bush branches.
Kehaar flew in one day, amid great rejoicing, and brought with him a friend, on Lekkri, whose speech (as Silver remarked) set a new record for total incomprehensibility. Kehaar, of course, knew nothing of all that had happened since the morning after the great breakout from Efrafa. He heard the tale from Dandelion one windy, cloud-blown afternoon of flying beech leaves and rippling grass, and at the end remarked to the uncomprehending narrator that the Nuthanger cat was "verser mean dan plenty cormorants"--a view which Lekkri corroborated with a rasping croak that made a young rabbit nearby jump a foot in the air and bolt for his hole.
Often, on fine mornings, the two gulls could be seen from the north slope of the Down, shining white in the thin sunshine as they foraged together over the plowed field below, already green with next year's wheat.
One afternoon toward the end of the month, Blackavar had taken Scabious and young Threar (the son of Fiver) on a training raid to the garden of Ladle Hill House, about a mile away to the west. ("A soft touch," as he called it.) Hazel had felt some anxiety about the youngsters going so far, but had left the decision (which resembled Edward III's "Que l'enfant gagne ses eperons" at Crecy) to Bigwig, as captain of Owsla. They were not back by twilight, and Hazel, after watching with Bigwig in the November nightfall until it was almost completely dark, came down into the Honeycomb in some anxiety.
"Don't worry, Hazel-rah," said Bigwig cheerfully. "Likely as not Blackavar's keeping them out all night for the experience."
"But he told you he wouldn't," answered Hazel. "Don't you remember he said--"
Just then there was a scuffling from up Kehaar's run, and after a few moments the three adventurers appeared, muddy and tired, but otherwise, to all appearances, none the worse.
Everyone felt relieved and pleased. Scabious, however, who seemed very much subdued, merely lay down on the floor where he was.
"What kept you?" asked Hazel rather sharply.
Blackavar said nothing. He had the air of a leader who is reluctant to speak ill of his subordinates.
"It was my fault, Hazel-rah," said Sc
abious, rather jerkily. "I had a--a nasty turn on the Down, coming back. I don't know what to make of it, I'm sure. Blackavar says--"
"Stupid young fellow, he's been listening to too many stories," said Blackavar. "Now look, Scabious, you're home and safe. Why not leave it there?"
"What was it?" persisted Hazel, in a more kindly tone.
"Oh, he thinks he saw the General's ghost out on the Down," said Blackavar impatiently. "I've told him--"
"I did," said Scabious. "Blackavar told me to go and look ahead, round some bushes, and I was out there by myself when I saw him. All black round the ears ... a huge, great ... just the way they tell you--"
"And I've told you that was a hare," interrupted Blackavar with some annoyance. "Frith on a cow, I saw it myself! Do you think I don't know what a hare looks like?... Couldn't get him to move until I kicked him," he added to Bigwig in an undertone. "Talk about tharn--"
"It was a ghost," said Scabious, but with less conviction. "Perhaps it was a ghost hare--"