and he felt that for some reason or other he had not struck the right note in complimenting them on their numbers. Perhaps there were not very many of them after all? Had there been disease? There was no smell or sign of it. These were the biggest and healthiest rabbits he had ever met. Perhaps their fidgeting and silence had nothing to do with what he had said? Perhaps it was simply that he had not spoken very well, being new to it, and they felt that he was not up to their fine ways? 'Never mind,' he thought. 'After last night I'm sure of my own lot. We wouldn't be here at all if we weren't handy in a pinch. These other fellows will just have to get to know us. They don't seem to dislike us, anyway.'
There were no more speeches. Rabbits have their own conventions and formalities, but these are few and short by human standards. If Hazel had been a human being he would have been expected to introduce his companions one by one and no doubt each would have been taken in charge as a guest by one of their hosts. In the great burrow, however, things happened differently. The rabbits mingled naturally. They did not talk for talking's sake, in the artificial manner that human beings - and sometimes even their dogs and cats - do. But this did not mean that they were not communicating; merely that they were not communicating by talking. All over the burrow, both the newcomers and those who were at home were accustoming themselves to each other in their own way and their own time; getting to know what the strangers smelt like, how they moved, how they breathed, how they scratched, the feel of their rhythms and pulses. These were their topics and subjects of discussion, carried on without the need of speech. To a greater extent than a human in a similar gathering each rabbit, as he pursued his own fragment, was sensitive to the trend of the whole. After a time, all knew that the concourse was not going to turn sour or break up in a fight. Just as a battle begins in a state of equilibrium between the two sides, which gradually alters one way or the other, until it is clear that the balance has tilted so far that the issue can no longer be in doubt - so this gathering of rabbits in the dark, beginning with hesitant approaches, silences, pauses, movements, crouchings side-by-side and all manner of tentative appraisals, slowly moved, like a hemisphere of the world into summer, to a warmer, brighter region of mutual liking and approval, until all felt sure that they had nothing to fear. Pipkin, some way away from Hazel, crouched at his ease between two huge rabbits who could have broken his back in a second, while Buckthorn and Cowslip started a playful scuffle, nipping each other like kittens and then breaking off to comb their ears in a comical pretence of sudden gravity. Only Fiver sat alone and apart. He seemed either ill or very much depressed, and the strangers avoided him instinctively.
The knowledge that the gathering was safely round the corner came to Hazel in the form of a recollection of Silver's head and paws breaking through gravel. At once he felt warm and relaxed. He had already crossed the whole length of the hall and was pressed close to two rabbits, a buck and doe, each of whom was fully as large as Cowslip. When both together took a few slow hops down one of the runs near-by, Hazel followed and little by little they all three moved out of the hall. They came to a smaller burrow, deeper underground. Evidently this belonged to the couple, for they settled down as though at home and made no objection when Hazel did the same. Here, while the mood of the great hall slowly passed from them, all three were silent for a time.
'Is Cowslip the Chief Rabbit?' asked Hazel at length.
The other replied with a question. 'Are you called Chief Rabbit?'
Hazel found this awkward to answer. If he replied that he was, his new friends might address him so for the future, and he could imagine what Bigwig and Silver would have to say about that. As usual, he fell back on plain honesty.
'We're only a few,' he said.' We left our warren in a hurry to escape from bad things. Most stayed behind and the Chief Rabbit was one of them. I've been trying to lead my friends, but I don't know whether they'd care to hear me called Chief Rabbit.'
'That'll make him ask a few questions,' he thought. ' "Why did you leave? Why didn't the rest come? What were you afraid of?" And whatever am I going to say?'
When the other rabbit spoke, however, it was clear that either he had no interest in what Hazel had said, or else he had some other reason for not questioning him.
'We don't call anyone Chief Rabbit,' he said. 'It was Cowslip's idea to go and see you this afternoon, so he was the one who went.'
'But who decides what to do about elil? And digging and sending out scouting parties and so on?'
'Oh, we never do anything like that. Elil keep away from here. There was a homba last winter, but the man who comes through the fields, he shot it with his gun.'
Hazel stared. 'But men won't shoot a homba.'
'Well, he killed this one, anyway. He kills owls too. We never need to dig. No one's dug in my lifetime. A lot of the burrows are lying empty, you know: rats live in one part, but the man kills them as well, when he can. We don't need expeditions. There's better food here than anywhere else. Your friends will be happy living here.'
But he himself did not sound particularly happy and once again Hazel felt oddly perplexed. 'Where does the man -' he began. But he was interrupted.
'I'm called Strawberry. This is my doe, Nildro-hain.* Some of the best empty burrows are quite close. I'll show you, in case your friends want to settle into them. The great burrow is a splendid place, don't you think? I'm sure there can't be many warrens where all the rabbits can meet together underground. The roof's all tree-roots, you know, and of course the tree outside keeps the rain from coming through. It's a wonder the tree's alive, but it is.'
Hazel suspected that Strawberry's talking had the real purpose of preventing his own questions. He was partly irritated and partly mystified.
'Never mind,' he thought. 'If we all get as big as these chaps we shall do pretty well. There must be some good food round here somewhere. His doe's a beautiful creature, too. Perhaps there are some more like her in the warren.'
Strawberry moved out of the burrow and Hazel followed him into another run, leading deeper down below the wood. It was certainly a warren to admire. Sometimes, when they crossed a run that led upwards to a hole, he could hear the rain outside, still falling in the night. But although it had now been raining for several hours, there was not the least damp or cold either in the deep runs or in the many burrows that they passed. Both the drainage and the ventilation were better than he had been accustomed to. Here and there other rabbits were on the move. Once they came upon Acorn, who was evidently being taken on a tour of the same kind. 'Very friendly, aren't they?' he said to Hazel as they passed one another.' I never dreamt we'd reach a place like this. You've got wonderful judgement, Hazel.' Strawberry waited politely for him to finish speaking and Hazel could not help feeling pleased that he must have heard.
At last, after skirting carefully round some openings from which there was a distinct smell of rats, they halted in a kind of pit. A steep tunnel led up into the air. Rabbit-runs tend to be bow-shaped; but this was straight, so that above them, through the mouth of the hole, Hazel could see leaves against the night sky. He realized that one wall of the pit was convex and made of some hard substance. He sniffed at it uncertainly.
'Don't you know what those are?' said Strawberry. 'They're bricks; the stones that men make their houses and barns out of. There used to be a well here long ago, but it's filled up now - the men don't use it any more. That's the outer side of the well-shaft. And this earth-wall here is completely flat because of some man-thing fixed behind it in the ground, but I'm not sure what.'
'There's something stuck on it,' said Hazel.' Why, they're stones, pushed into the surface! But what for?'
'Do you like it?' asked Strawberry.
Hazel puzzled over the stones. They were all the same size, and pushed at regular intervals into the soil. He could make nothing of them.
'What are they for?' he asked again.
'It's El-ahrairah,' said Strawberry. 'A rabbit called Laburnum did it, some time ago now. We have other
s, but this is the best. Worth a visit, don't you think?'
Hazel was more at a loss than ever. He had never seen a laburnum and was puzzled by the name, which in Lapine is 'Poison-tree'. How could a rabbit be called Poison? And how could stones be El-ahrairah? What, exactly, was it that Strawberry was saying was El-ahrairah? In confusion he said, 'I don't understand.'
'It's what we call a Shape,' explained Strawberry. 'Haven't you seen one before? The stones make the shape of El-ahrairah on the wall. Stealing the King's lettuce. You know?'
Hazel had not felt so much bewildered since Blackberry had talked about the raft beside the Enborne. Obviously, the stones could not possibly be anything to do with El-ahrairah. It seemed to him that Strawberry might as well have said that his tail was an oak tree. He sniffed again and then put a paw up to the wall.