Watership Down - Adams Richard George (книги полностью бесплатно .txt) 📗

11. Hard Going

When Hazel and Fiver reached the floor of the hollow they found Blackberry wailing for them, crouching on the peat and nibbling at a few brown stalks of sedge grass.

"Hello," said Hazel. "What's happened? Where are the others?"

"Over there," answered Blackberry. "There's been a fearful row. Bigwig told Hawkbit and Speedwell that he'd scratch them to pieces if they didn't obey him. And when Hawkbit said he wanted to know who was Chief Rabbit, Bigwig bit him. It seems a nasty business. Who is Chief Rabbit, anyway-you or Bigwig?"

"I don't know," answered Hazel, "but Bigwig's certainly the strongest. There was no need to go biting Hawkbit: he couldn't have gone back if he'd tried. He and his friends would have seen that if they'd been allowed to talk for a bit. Now Bigwig's put their backs up, and they'll think they've got to go on because he makes them. I want them to go on because they can see it's the only thing to do. There are too few of us for giving orders and biting people. Frith in a fog! Isn't there enough trouble and danger already?"

They went over to the far end of the pit. Bigwig and Silver were talking with Buckthorn under an overhanging broom. Nearby, Pipkin and Dandelion were pretending to feed on a patch of scrub. Some way away, Acorn was making a great business of licking Hawkbit's throat, while Speedwell watched.

"Keep still if you can, poor old chap," said Acorn, who obviously wanted to be overheard. "Just let me clean the blood out. Steady, now!" Hawkbit winced in an exaggerated manner and backed away. As Hazel came up, all the rabbits turned and stared at him expectantly.

"Look," said Hazel, "I know there's been some trouble, but the best thing will be to try to forget it. This is a bad place, but we'll soon get out of it."

"Do you really think we will?" asked Dandelion.

"If you'll follow me now," replied Hazel desperately, "I'll have you out of it by sunrise."

"If I don't," he thought, "they'll very likely tear me to bits: and much good may it do them."

For the second time he made his way out of the pit, and the others followed. The weary, frightening journey began again, broken only by alarms. Once a white owl swept silently overhead, so low that Hazel saw its dark, searching eyes looking into his own. But either it was not hunting or he was too big to tackle, for it disappeared over the heather; and although he waited motionless for some time, it did not return. Once Dandelion struck the smell of a stoat and they all joined him, whispering and sniffing over the ground. But the scent was old and after a time they went on again. In this low undergrowth their disorganized progress and uneven, differing rhythms of movement delayed them still more than in the wood. There were continual stampings of alarm, pausing, freezing to the spot at the sound of movement real or imagined. It was so dark that Hazel seldom knew for certain whether he was leading or whether Bigwig or Silver might not be ahead. Once, hearing an unaccountable noise in front of him, which ceased on the instant, he kept still for a long time; and when at last he moved cautiously forward, found Silver crouching behind a tussock of cocksfoot for fear of the sound of his own approach. All was confusion, ignorance, clambering and exhaustion. Throughout the bad dream of the night's journey, Pipkin seemed to be always close beside him. Though each of the others vanished and reappeared like fragments floating round a pool, Pipkin never left him; and his need for encouragement became at last Hazel's only support against his own weariness.

"Not far now, Hlao-roo, not far now," he kept muttering, until he realized that what he said had become meaningless, a mere refrain. He was not speaking to Pipkin or even to himself. He was talking in his sleep, or something very near it.

At last he saw the first of the dawn, like light faintly perceived round a corner at the far end of an unknown burrow; and in the same moment a yellowhammer sang. Hazel's feelings were like those which might pass through the mind of a defeated general. Where were his followers exactly? He hoped, not far away. But were they? All of them? Where had he led them? What was he going to do now? What if an enemy appeared at this moment? He had answers to none of these questions and no spirit left to force himself to think about them. Behind him, Pipkin shivered in the damp, and he turned and nuzzled him-much as the general, with nothing left to do, might fall to considering the welfare of his servant, simply because the servant happened to be there.

The light grew stronger and soon he could see that a little way ahead there was an open track of bare gravel. He limped out of the heather, sat on the stones and shook the wet from his fur. He could see Fiver's hills plainly now, greenish-gray and seeming close in the rain-laden air. He could even pick out the dots of furze bushes and stunted yew trees on the steep slopes. As he gazed at them, he heard an excited voice further down the track.

"He's done it! Didn't I tell you he'd do it?"

Hazel turned his head and saw Blackberry on the path. He was bedraggled and exhausted, but it was he who was speaking. Out of the heather behind him came Acorn, Speedwell and Buckthorn. All four rabbits were now staring straight at him. He wondered why. Then, as they approached, he realized that they were looking not at him, but past him at something further off. He turned round. The gravel track led downhill into a narrow belt of silver birch and rowan. Beyond was a thin hedge; and beyond that, a green field between two copses. They had reached the other side of the common.

"Oh, Hazel," said Blackberry, coming up to him round a puddle in the gravel. "I was so tired and confused, I actually began to wonder whether you knew where you were going. I could hear you in the heather, saying 'Not far now' and it was annoying me. I thought you were making it up. I should have known better. Frithrah, you're what I call a Chief Rabbit!"

"Well done, Hazel!" said Buckthorn. "Well done!"

Hazel did not know what to reply. He looked at them in silence and it was Acorn who spoke next.

"Come on!" he said. "Who's going to be first into that field? I can still run." He was off, slowly enough, down the slope, but when Hazel stamped for him to stop he did so at once.

"Where are the others?" said Hazel. "Dandelion? Bigwig?"

At that moment Dandelion appeared out of the heather and sat on the path, looking at the field. He was followed first by Hawkbit and then by Fiver. Hazel was watching Fiver as he took in the sight of the field, when Buckthorn drew his attention back to the foot of the slope.

"Look, Hazel," he said, "Silver and Bigwig are down there. They're waiting for us."

Silver's light-gray fur showed up plainly against a low spray of gorse, but Hazel could not see Bigwig until he sat up and ran toward them.

"Splendid, Hazel," he said. "Everybody's here. Let's get them into that field."

A few moments later they were under the silver birches and as the sun rose, striking flashes of red and green from the drops on ferns and twigs, they scrambled through the hedge, across a shallow ditch and into the thick grass of the meadow.