Watership Down - Adams Richard George - Страница 11
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"How's the paw?" said Hazel.
Pipkin put it to the ground. Then he stood on it.
"It feels much better," he said. "I think I shall be able to go as well as the others now. They won't leave me behind, will they?"
Hazel rubbed his nose behind Pipkin's ear. "No one's going to leave anyone else behind," he said. "If you had to stay, I'd stay with you. But don't pick up any more thorns, Hlao-roo, because we may have to go a long way."
The next moment all the rabbits leaped up in panic. From close at hand the sound of a shot tore across the fields. A peewit rose screaming. The echoes came back in waves, like a pebble rolling round a box, and from the wood across the river came the clattering of wood pigeons' wings among the branches. In an instant the rabbits were running in all directions through the bean rows, each one tearing by instinct toward holes that were not there.
Hazel stopped short on the edge of the beans. Looking about him, he could see none of the others. He waited, trembling, for the next shot: but there was silence. Then he felt, vibrating along the ground, the steady tread of a man going away beyond the crest over which they had come that morning. At that moment Silver appeared, pushing his way through the plants close by.
"I hope it's the crow, don't you?" said Silver.
"I hope no one's been silly enough to bolt out of this field," answered Hazel. "They're all scattered. How can we find them?"
"I don't think we can," said Silver. "We'd better go back to where we were. They'll come in time."
It was in fact a long time before all the rabbits had come back to the hollow in the middle of the field. As he waited, Hazel realized more fully than ever how dangerous was their position, without holes, wandering in country they did not know. The lendri, the dog, the crow, the marksman-they had been lucky to escape them. How long would their luck hold? Would they really be able to travel on as far as Fiver's high place-wherever it might be?
"I'd settle for any decent, dry bank, myself," he thought, "as long as there was some grass and no men with guns. And the sooner we can find one the better."
Hawkbit was the last to return and as he came up Hazel set off at once. He looked cautiously out from among the beans and then darted into the hedgerow. The wind, as he stopped to sniff it, was reassuring, carrying only the scents of evening dew, may and cow dung. He led the way into the next field, a pasture: and here they all fell to feeding, nibbling their way over the grass as easily as though their warren were close by.
When he was halfway across the field, Hazel became aware of a hrududu approaching very fast on the other side of the further hedge. It was small and less noisy than the farm tractor which he had sometimes watched from the edge of the primrose wood at home. It passed in a flash of man-made, unnatural color, glittering here and there and brighter than a winter holly tree. A few moments later came the smells of petrol and exhaust. Hazel stared, twitching his nose. He could not understand how the hrududu could move so quickly and smoothly through the fields. Would it return? Would it come through the fields faster than they could run, and hunt them down?
As he paused, wondering what was best to be done, Bigwig came up.
"There's a road there, then," he said. "That'll give some of them a surprise, won't it?"
"A road?" said Hazel, thinking of the lane by the notice board. "How do you know?"
"Well, how do you suppose a hrududu can go that fast? Besides, can't you smell it?"
The smell of warm tar was now plain on the evening air.
"I've never smelled that in my life," said Hazel with a touch of irritation.
"Ah," said Bigwig, "but then you were never sent out stealing lettuces for the Threarah, were you? If you had been, you'd have learned about roads. There's nothing to them, really, as long as you let them alone by night. They're elil then, all right."
"You'd better teach me, I think," said Hazel. "I'll go up with you and we'll let the others follow."
They ran on and crept through the hedge. Hazel looked down at the road in astonishment. For a moment he thought that he was looking at another river-black, smooth and straight between its banks. Then he saw the gravel embedded in the tar and watched a spider running over the surface.
"But that's not natural," he said, sniffing the strange, strong smells of tar and oil. "What is it? How did it come there?"
"It's a man thing," said Bigwig. "They put that stuff there and then the hrududil run on it-faster than we can; and what else can run faster than we?"
"It's dangerous, then? They can catch us?"
"No, that's what's so odd. They don't take any notice of us at all. I'll show you, if you like."
The other rabbits were beginning to reach the hedge as Bigwig hopped down the bank and crouched on the verge of the road. From beyond the bend came the sound of another approaching car. Hazel and Silver watched tensely. The car appeared, flashing green and white, and raced down toward Bigwig. For an instant it filled the whole world with noise and fear. Then it was gone and Bigwig's fur was blowing in the whack of wind that followed it down the hedges. He jumped back up the bank among the staring rabbits.
"See? They don't hurt you," said Bigwig. "As a matter of fact, I don't think they're alive at all. But I must admit I can't altogether make it out."
As on the riverbank, Blackberry had moved away and was already down on the road on his own account, sniffing out toward the middle, halfway between Hazel and the bend. They saw him start and jump back to the shelter of the bank.
"What is it?" said Hazel.
Blackberry did not answer, and Hazel and Bigwig hopped toward him along the verge. He was opening and shutting his mouth and licking his lips, much as a cat does when something disgusts it.
"You say they're not dangerous, Bigwig," he said quietly. "But I think they must be, for all that."
In the middle of the road was a flattened, bloody mass of brown prickles and white fur, with small black feet and snout crushed round the edges. The flies crawled upon it, and here and there the sharp points of gravel pressed up through the flesh.
"A yona," said Blackberry. "What harm does a yona do to anything but slugs and beetles? And what can eat a yona?"
"It must have come at night," said Bigwig.
"Yes, of course. The yonil always hunt by night. If you see them by day, they're dying."
"I know. But what I'm trying to explain is that at night the hrududil have great lights, brighter than Frith himself. They draw creatures toward them, and if they shine on you, you can't see or think which way to go. Then the hrududu is quite likely to crush you. At least, that's what we were taught in the Owsla. I don't intend to try it."
"Well, it will be dark soon," said Hazel. "Come on, let's get across. As far as I can see, this road's no good to us at all. Now that I've learned about it, I want to get away from it as soon as I can."
By moonrise they had made their way through Newtown churchyard, where a little brook runs between the lawns and under the path. Wandering on, they climbed a hill and came to Newtown Common-a country of peat, gorse and silver birch. After the meadows they had left, this was a strange, forbidding land. Trees, herbage, even the soil-all were unfamiliar. They hesitated among the thick heather, unable to see more than a few feet ahead. Their fur became soaked with the dew. The ground was broken by rifts and pits of naked black peat, where water lay and sharp white stones, some as big as a pigeon's, some as a rabbit's skull, glimmered in the moonlight. Whenever they reached one of these rifts the rabbits huddled together, waiting for Hazel or Bigwig to climb the further side and find a way forward. Everywhere they came upon beetles, spiders and small lizards which scurried away as they pushed through the fibrous, resistant heather. Once Buckthorn disturbed a snake, and leaped into the air as it whipped between his paws to vanish down a hole at the foot of a birch.
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