Richard Adams - Watership Down

Watership Down

Richard Adams

AVON BOOKS, INC.

1350 Avenue of the Americas

New York, New York 10019

Copyright 1972 by Rex Collings, Ltd.

Text excerpt from Tales from Watership Down copyright 1996 Richard Adams

Decorations copyright 1996 John Lawrence

Published by arrangement with Macmillan Publishing Company, Inc.

Visit our website at www.AvonBooks.com

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 73-6044

ISBN: 0-380-00293-0

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Macmillan Publishing Company, Inc., 866 Third Avenue, New York, New York 10022.

First Avon Books Printing: April 1975

AVON TRADEMARK REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. AND IN OTHER COUNTRIES, MARCA REGISTRADA, HECHO EN U.S.A.

Printed in the U.S.A.

To Juliet and Rosamond,

remembering the road to Stratford-on-Avon

Note

Nuthanger Farm is a real place, like all the other places in the book. But Mr. and Mrs. Cane, their little girl Lucy and their farmhands are fictitious and bear no intentional resemblance to any persons known to me, living or dead.

Acknowledgements

I acknowledge with gratitude the help I have received not only from my family but also from my friends Reg Sones and Hal Summers, who read the book before publication and made valuable suggestions.

I also wish to thank warmly Mrs. Margaret Apps and Miss Miriam Hobbs, who took pains with the typing and helped me very much.

I am indebted, for a knowledge of rabbits and their ways, to Mr. R. M. Lockley's remarkable book, The Private Life of the Rabbit. Anyone who wishes to know more about the migrations of yearlings, about pressing chin glands, chewing pellets, the effects of over-crowding in warrens, the phenomenon of re-absorption of fertilized embryos, the capacity of buck rabbits to fight stoats, or any other features of Lapine life, should refer to that definitive work.

Contents

MAP

PART I THE JOURNEY

1 The Notice Board

2 The Chief Rabbit

3 Hazel's Decision

4 The Departure

5 In the Woods

6 The Story of the Blessing of El-ahrairah

7 The Lendri and the River

8 The Crossing

9 The Crow and the Beanfield

10 The Road and the Common

11 Hard Going

12 The Stranger in the Field

13 Hospitality

14 "Like Trees in November"

15 The Story of the King's Lettuce

16 Silverweed

17 The Shining Wire

PART II ON WATERSHIP DOWN

18 Watership Down

19 Fear in the Dark

20 A Honeycomb and a Mouse

21 "For El-ahrairah to Cry"

22 The Story of the Trial of El-ahrairah

23 Kehaar

24 Nuthanger Farm

25 The Raid

26 Fiver Beyond

27 "You Can't Imagine it Unless You've been There"

28 At the Foot of the Hill

29 Return and Departure

PART III EFRAFA

30 A New Journey

31 The Story of El-ahrairah and the Black Rabbit of Inl

32 Across the Iron Road

33 The Great River

34 General Woundwort

35 Groping

36 Approaching Thunder

37 The Thunder Builds Up

38 The Thunder Breaks

PART IV HAZEL-RAH

39 The Bridges

40 The Way Back

41 The Story of Rowsby Woof and the Fairy Wogdog

42 News at Sunset

43 The Great Patrol

44 A Message from El-ahrairah

45 Nuthanger Farm Again

46 Bigwig Stands His Ground

47 The Sky Suspended

48 Dea ex Machina

49 Hazel Comes Home

50 And Last

Epilogue

PART I The Journey

1. The Notice Board

CHORUS: Why do you cry out thus, unless at some vision of horror?

CASSANDRA: The house reeks of death and dripping blood.

CHORUS: How so? 'Tis but the odor of the altar sacrifice.

CASSANDRA: The stench is like a breath from the tomb.

Aeschylus, Agamemnon

The primroses were over. Toward the edge of the wood, where the ground became open and sloped down to an old fence and a brambly ditch beyond, only a few fading patches of pale yellow still showed among the dog's mercury and oak-tree roots. On the other side of the fence, the upper part of the field was full of rabbit holes. In places the grass was gone altogether and everywhere there were clusters of dry droppings, through which nothing but the ragwort would grow. A hundred yards away, at the bottom of the slope, ran the brook, no more than three feet wide, half choked with kingcups, watercress and blue brooklime. The cart track crossed by a brick culvert and climbed the opposite slope to a five-barred gate in the thorn hedge. The gate led into the lane.

The May sunset was red in clouds, and there was still half an hour to twilight. The dry slope was dotted with rabbits--some nibbling at the thin grass near their holes, others pushing further down to look for dandelions or perhaps a cowslip that the rest had missed. Here and there one sat upright on an ant heap and looked about, with ears erect and nose in the wind. But a blackbird, singing undisturbed on the outskirts of the wood, showed that there was nothing alarming there, and in the other direction, along the brook, all was plain to be seen, empty and quiet. The warren was at peace.

At the top of the bank, close to the wild cherry where the blackbird sang, was a little group of holes almost hidden by brambles. In the green half-light, at the mouth of one of these holes, two rabbits were sitting together side by side. At length, the larger of the two came out, slipped along the bank under cover of the brambles and so down into the ditch and up into the field. A few moments later the other followed.

The first rabbit stopped in a sunny patch and scratched his ear with rapid movements of his hind leg. Although he was a yearling and still below full weight, he had not the harassed look of most "outskirters"--that is, the rank and file of ordinary rabbits in their first year who, lacking either aristocratic parentage or unusual size and strength, get sat on by their elders and live as best they can--often in the open--on the edge of their warren. He looked as though he knew how to take care of himself. There was a shrewd, buoyant air about him as he sat up, looked around and rubbed both front paws over his nose. As soon as he was satisfied that all was well, he laid back his ears and set to work on the grass.

His companion seemed less at ease. He was small, with wide, staring eyes and a way of raising and turning his head which suggested not so much caution as a kind of ceaseless, nervous tension. His nose moved continually, and when a bumblebee flew humming to a thistle bloom behind him, he jumped and spun round with a start that sent two nearby rabbits scurrying for holes before the nearest, a buck with black-tipped ears, recognized him and returned to feeding.

"Oh, it's only Fiver," said the black-tipped rabbit, "jumping at bluebottles again. Come on, Buckthorn, what were you telling me?"

"Fiver?" said the other rabbit. "Why's he called that?"

"Five in the litter, you know: he was the last--and the smallest. You'd wonder nothing had got him by now. I always say a man couldn't see him and a fox wouldn't want him. Still, I admit he seems to be able to keep out of harm's way." *

The small rabbit came closer to his companion, lolloping on long hind legs.

"Let's go a bit further, Hazel," he said. "You know, there's something queer about the warren this evening, although I can't tell exactly what it is. Shall we go down to the brook?"

"All right," answered Hazel, "and you can find me a cowslip. If you can't find one, no one can."