"Yes, just on the other side of me. Do you want to tell her about your secret river in Efrafa?"
"No, not now. It would be better, wouldn't it, if I told her later?"
"Yes, I think you're right. She's better left alone for the moment. She's had enough surprises for one day."
If the other rabbits had been expecting Hazel to speak to them about the newcomers, they were disappointed. Neither he nor Bigwig said anything more by way of explaining Flyairth's arrival. Hazel simply went to sleep, and soon everyone else did the same. Flyairth remained restless and nervous for some time, but as the burrow grew warmer from the natural heat of so many bodies, she gradually relaxed and slept as soundly as the rest. In the middle of the night Hazel woke, slipped outside and went into both the other burrows to be sure that all was well. Finding that it was, he did not go back to his place beside Hyzenthlay but simply went to sleep again where he found himself.
Next day he made no special effort to question Flyairth but, having gone outside in a more or less hopeless attempt to silflay, went back to drowsing underground, like any other rabbit in winter. In the course of the day, several rabbits, both bucks and does, asked him whether he meant to tell them anything about the mysterious circumstances of Flyairth's arrival among them, but he simply replied that they were free to ask her and that the more rabbits she could talk to and get to know, the better for her and for them: as far as he was concerned, she was no different from any other rabbit. Only to Fiver did he say more.
"What do you make of her?"
"There's something unusual about her," replied Fiver. "She's no ordinary rabbit. She's got a lot on her mind: a lot that she's not going to talk about--or not yet, anyway. But whatever it is, she doesn't mean us any harm. And she's not crazy, like that poor Silverweed in Cowslip's warren. I think you're right to leave her alone to settle in and see what happens. Something unusual will happen; I'm sure of that, and so is Vilthuril. But obviously we can't send her away in all this snow and bitter cold. Let's see how she gets on with our rabbits. That'll tell us a good deal, for a start. We don't need to treat her in any special way; or not yet, anyhow."
That afternoon Flyairth approached Hazel on her own account.
"Hazel-rah, why weren't you and Bigwig afraid of the men last night? I was more frightened than I've ever been in my life."
"Oh, well, we're more or less used to them, you see," replied Hazel. "I was sure they wouldn't hurt us."
"But men, as close as that? It's not natural to rabbits. It must be dangerous."
Hazel said nothing more, and after a short time Flyairth asked, "Have all the rabbits come down now?"
"Yes," replied Hazel. "There's no one up there now. We shan't go back until it gets warmer."
"Of course, I didn't get a chance to see very much last night. Will you take me back there? Some of the rabbits have been describing the warren to me, and I'd like to see it again."
"Now?" asked Hazel rather soporifically.
She was downright. "Yes. Well, before it gets dark."
Hazel, good-natured as ever, agreed to go, and persuaded Bigwig to join them. The three set out, climbed the steep slope and went across to the footpath and the trees. The snow, frozen hard, was still lying, and Flyairth looked closely at the prints left by the men and the hrududu.
&nbs
p; "Do men walk along this path very often?" she asked.
"In summer they do, quite a lot."
Flyairth followed them the few yards to the holes leading down into the Honeycomb. She was full of admiration and looked closely at the run in which Bigwig had fought and beaten General Woundwort.
"These Efrafan rabbits--they'd come to beat you, had they, and take the warren away from you?"
They told her about the dog, and how Hazel had been brought back from the farm.
"That's wonderful," she said. "What courage! Weren't you afraid?"
"We were all of us afraid," said Hazel. Not wishing to seem to be boasting, he went on, "It was really El-ahrairah who saved us. Dandelion'll tell you all about it, if you care to ask him. He's the rabbit for telling stories."
After they had looked at the sleeping burrows and were about to go back down the hill, she paused at the mouth of Kehaar's run and again gazed about her.
"You say men come along that path--as close to you as that? And they haven't done you any harm?"
"There's no particular reason why they should," answered Bigwig. "They don't grow flayrah or anything up here."
"But they must know you're here. The Blindness--aren't you afraid of the Blindness?"
"No. I don't think the men mind us being here."