'Steady, steady,' said Strawberry. 'You might damage it and that wouldn't do. Never mind. We'll come again some other time.'
'But where are -' Hazel was beginning, when Strawberry once more interrupted him.
'I expect you'll be hungry now. I know I am. It's going on raining all night, I'm certain of that, but we can feed underground here, you know. And then you can sleep in the great burrow, or in my place if you prefer. We can go back more quickly than we came. There's a run that goes almost straight. Actually, it passes across -'
He chatted on relentlessly, as they made their way back. It suddenly occurred to Hazel that these desperate interruptions seemed to follow any question beginning' Where?' He thought he would put this to the proof. After a while Strawberry ended by saying, 'We're nearly at the great burrow now, but we're coming in by a different way.'
'And where -' said Hazel. Instantly Strawberry turned into a side run and called,' Kingcup? Are you coming down to the great burrow?' There was silence. 'That's odd!' said Strawberry, returning and once more leading the way. 'He's generally there about this time. I often call for him, you know.'
Hazel, hanging back, made a quick search with nose and whiskers. The threshold of the burrow was covered with a day-old fall of soft soil from the roof above. Strawberry's prints had marked it plainly and there were no others whatsoever.
14. 'Like Trees in November'
Courts and camps are the only places to learn the world in ... Take the tone of the company that you are in.
The Earl of Chesterfield Letters to his Son
The great burrow was less crowded than when they had left it. Nildro-hain was the first rabbit they met. She was among a group of three or four fine does who were talking quietly together and seemed to be feeding as well. There was a smell of green-stuff. Evidently some kind of food was available underground, like the Threarah's lettuce. Hazel stopped to speak to Nildro-hain. She asked whether he had gone as far as the well-pit and the El-ahrairah of Laburnum.
'Yes, we did,' said Hazel.' It's something quite strange to me, I'm afraid. But I'd rather admire you and your friends than stones on a wall.'
As he said this, he noticed that Cowslip had joined them and that Strawberry was talking to him quietly. He caught the words - 'Never been near a Shape' - and a moment later Cowslip replied, 'Well, it makes no difference from our point of view.'
Hazel suddenly felt tired and depressed. He heard Blackberry behind Cowslip's sleek, heavy shoulder and went across to him.
'Come out into the grass,' he said quietly. 'Bring anyone else who'll come.'
At that moment Cowslip turned to him and said, 'You'll be glad of something to eat now. I'll show you what we've got down here.'
'One or two of us are just going to silflay,'* said Hazel.
'Oh, it's still raining much too hard for that,' said Cowslip, as though there could be no two ways about it. 'We'll feed you here.'
'I should be sorry to quarrel over it,' said Hazel firmly, 'but some of us need to silflay. We're used to it, and rain doesn't bother us.'
Cowslip seemed taken aback for a moment. Then he laughed.
The phenomenon of laughter is unknown to animals; though it is possible that dogs and elephants may have some inkling of it. The effect on Hazel and Blackberry was overwhelming. Hazel's first idea was that Cowslip was showing the symptom of some kind of disease. Blackberry clearly thought that he might be going to attack them and backed away. Cowslip said nothing, but his eerie laughter continued. Hazel and Blackberry turned and scuttled up the nearest run as though he had been a ferret. Half-way up they met Pipkin, who was small enough first to let them pass and then to turn round and follow them.
The rain was still falling steadily. The night was dark and for May, cold. They all three hunched themselves in the grass and nibbled, while the rain ran off their fur in streams.
'My goodness, Hazel,' said Blackberry, 'did you really want to silflay? This is terrible! I was just going to eat whatever it is they have and then go to sleep. What's the idea?'
'I don't know,' replied Hazel. 'I suddenly felt I had to get out and I wanted your company. I can see what's troubling Fiver; though he'll get over it, I dare say. There is something strange about these rabbits. Do you know they push stones into the wall?'
'They do what?'
Hazel explained. Blackberry was as much at a loss as he had been himself. 'But I'll tell you another thing,' he said. 'Bigwig wasn't so far wrong. They do sing like the birds. I was in a burrow belonging to a rabbit called Betony. His doe has a litter and she was making a noise over them rather like a robin in autumn. To send them to sleep, she said. It made me feel queer, I can tell you.'
'And what do you think of them, Hlao-roo?' asked Hazel.
'They're very nice and kind,' answered Pipkin, 'but I'll tell you how they strike me. They all seem terribly sad. I can't think why, when they're so big and strong and have this beautiful warren. But they put me in mind of trees in November. I expect I'm being silly though, Hazel. You brought us here and I'm sure it must be a fine, safe place.'
'No, you're not being silly. I hadn't realized it, but you're perfectly right. They all seem to have something on their minds.'
'But after all,' said Blackberry, 'we don't know why they're so few. They don't fill the warren, anything like. Perhaps they've had some sort of trouble that's left them sad.'
'We don't know because they don't tell us. But if we're going to stay here we've got to learn to get on with them. We can't fight them: they're too big. And we don't want them fighting us.'