At this moment, from out in the darkening field, there came the sound of a stamp on the ground. It was followed by another, closer to them, and they caught a glimpse of a white tail. They both immediately ran to the ditch. Now that they had to use it in earnest, they found it even narrower than they had thought. There was just room to turn round at the far end and as they did so Speedwell and Dandelion tumbled in behind them.
'What is it?' asked Hazel. 'What did you hear?'
'There's something coming up the line of the hedge,' replied Speedwell. 'An animal. Making a lot of noise, too.'
'Did you see it?'
'No, and I couldn't smell it either. It's down-wind. But I heard it plainly enough.'
'I heard it too,' said Dandelion. 'Something fairly big - as big as a rabbit, anyway - moving clumsily but trying to keep concealed, or so it seemed to me.'
'Homba?'
'No, that we should have smelt,' said Bigwig, 'wind or no wind. From what you say, it sounds like a cat. I hope it's not a stoat. Hoi, hoi, u embleer hrair! What a nuisance! We'd better sit tight for a bit. But get ready to bolt if it spots us.'
They waited. Soon it grew dark. Only the faintest light came through the tangled summer growth above them. The far end of the ditch was so much overgrown that they could not see out of it, but the place where they had come in showed as a patch of sky - an arc of very dark blue. As the time passed, a star crept out from among the overhanging grasses. It seemed to pulsate in a rhythm as faint and uneven as that of the wind. At length Hazel turned his eyes away from watching it.
'Well, we can snatch some sleep here,' he said. 'The night's not cold. Whatever it was you heard, we'd better not risk going out.'
'Listen,' said Dandelion. 'What's that?'
For a moment Hazel could hear nothing. Then he caught a distant but clear sound - a kind of wailing or crying, wavering and intermittent. Although it did not sound like any sort of hunting call, it was so unnatural that it filled him with fear. As he listened, it ceased.
'What in Frith's name makes a noise like that?' said Bigwig, his great fur cap hackling between his ears.
'A cat?' said Speedwell, wide-eyed.
'That's no cat!' said Bigwig, his lips drawn back in a stiffened, unnatural grimace. 'That's no cat! Don't you know what it is? Your mother -' He broke off. Then he said, very low, 'Your mother told you, didn't she?'
'No!' cried Dandelion, 'No! It's some bird - some rat - wounded -'
Bigwig stood up. His back was arched and his head nodded on his stiffened neck.
'The Black Rabbit of Inle,' he whispered. 'What else - in a place like this?'
'Don't talk like that!' said Hazel. He could feel himself trembling, and braced his legs against the sides of the narrow cut.
Suddenly the noise sounded again, nearer: and now there could be no mistake. What they heard was the voice of a rabbit, but changed out of all recognition. It might have come from the cold spaces of the dark sky outside, so unearthly and desolate was the sound. At first there was only a wailing. Then, distinct and beyond mistaking, they heard - they all heard - words.
'Zorn! Zorn!'* cried the dreadful, squealing voice. 'All dead! 0 zorn!'
Dandelion whimpered. Bigwig was scuffling into the ground.
'Be quiet!' said Hazel, 'and stop kicking that earth over me! I want to listen.'
At that moment, quite distinctly, the voice cried, 'Thlayli! O Thlayli!'
At this, all four rabbits felt the trance of utter panic. They grew rigid. Then Bigwig, his eyes set in a fixed, glazed stare, began to jerk his way up the ditch towards the opening. 'You have to go,' he muttered, so thickly that Hazel could hardly catch the words. 'You have to go when he calls you.'
Hazel felt so much frightened that he could no longer collect his wits. As on the river bank, his surroundings became unreal and dream-like. Who - or what - was calling Bigwig by name? How could any living creature in this place know his name? Only one idea remained to him - Bigwig must be prevented from going out, for he was helpless. He scrambled past him, pressing him against the side of the ditch.
'Stay where you are,' he said, panting. 'Whatever sort of rabbit it is, I'm going to see for myself.' Then, his legs almost giving way beneath him, he pulled himself out into the open.
For a few moments he could see little or nothing; but the smells of dew and elder-bloom were unchanged and his nose brushed against cool grass-blades. He sat up and looked about him. There was no creature near-by.
'Who's there?' he said.
There was silence, and he was about to speak again when the voice replied, 'Zorn! O zorn!'