Chapter THREE - A Heart in the Frost

When Hazel and Vilthuril arrived at Clover's burrow, they found her fast asleep, and rather than wake her settled down on either side, pressed close against her tense body, feeling the beating of her quick pulse and listening to her rapid, shallow breathing. The warm, watchful darkness and the all-pervading smell of rabbits were comforts to Hazel, but he still could not ignore the questions that beat against the inside of his head like some angry woodpecker on a rotten tree-stump. Why had Blackavar stopped running? How could he have died so suddenly? Would Léaozen let her own sadness get the better of her? Most of all, though, he wondered again and again whether he, as Chief Rabbit, whose gravest duty was to keep his people from harm, had overlooked some detail that might, just perhaps, have averted such a terrible outcome.

As he considered all these things, Hazel became aware that Clover had woken, and that Vilthuril was whispering words of comfort to her. Despite her stress and exhaustion, she was grateful for the concern being shown for her, and readily accepted Hazel's invitation to talk.

"I think that, in a way, it's harder for me even than Holly," she began. "It took me a long while to become comfortable with warren life after all that time in the hutch, and when Blackavar used to come down here to speak with Holly, he'd always make time to answer my questions and to give me advice. I remember when Scabious was small, only a few weeks after Bigwig beat Woundwort, he became very insolent and difficult, and wouldn't listen to a word I - or Holly - told him. He kept saying that he wanted to go on adventures with Silver or Campion-rah; it was ridiculous, because he was barely old enough to silflay, let alone go traipsing off on a Wide Patrol. Blackavar was the one who had the idea that Bigwig should take him, and his two brothers, along for Owsla lessons, to knock some sense into him if you like, and Scabious took to it like a duck to water. Of course, some rabbits have said that we don't really have a normal Owsla here, but then I've never known anything different, so it seemed perfectly ordinary to me. And I got on splendidly with Léaozen, too; we really came to understand each other well. We started to think that nothing could go wrong." She paused, and Hazel spoke.

"You're certainly right that we don't go on like some other warrens," he replied, "but I think that's all for the best. After all, we've seen what can happen to a warren that thinks too much of orders and ranks, whatever Campion or Groundsel might say. But you must try to be strong, Clover. I'm only being honest when I say that the very future of our warren may depend on you now that we have so few does."

In the long silence that followed, Hazel's thoughts returned to the day Clover had been brought out of Nuthanger Farm, a day which had brought success in the form of the warren's first does, but a success which had come so close to exacting the terrible price of Hazel's own life. Some of the younger rabbits, never having known the hardships the veterans had encountered, grumbled a little at what they considered their Chief Rabbit's obsessive determination to keep a reasonable balance of bucks and does, but his standing was high enough that it went no further - and besides, a dressing down from Bigwig was a punishment to be keenly avoided.

At last, Clover continued. "I once listened to Thethuthinnang tell a story about Efrafa. She told us that the overcrowding there meant that the does could not kindle, and she said that she felt that her 'heart was in the frost'. I couldn't understand what she meant by that, and she hadn't the words to explain. But I think I know now."

* * *

"Vat you vant for me to do, Meester Pigvig?"

"We need to get Blackavar to that hole you told us about, Kehaar, and before sunset too. I don't imagine many elil will fancy taking on the four of us, even if they don't reckon with you, but it's hard enough as it is carrying a load like this, and I'd rather not take any chances with owls having a go at Blackavar."

"Ees goot! Meester Black'var, 'e vas plenty good fella. Vy 'e no run more?"

"We don't know, Kehaar. It's a very bad thing to have happened, and we're all wondering what can have caused it. But we must start now."

Without another word, Kehaar took off, and swooped in wide circles above the four rabbits as they made their inching progress south-westward across the down. As the sun began to sink towards the horizon, it shone almost in their eyes, lighting the ragged remains of Blackavar's ears so that they seemed to be glowing with a faint, silvery light, and sending shards of gold and crimson across the down, the long shadows of the line of trees extending their waving fingers across the open grass.

No alarms interrupted their journey, and about an hour before sunset, they reached the hole of which Kehaar had spoken, a little way to the east of the narrow road that runs over the west side of the down before going on to Ecchinswell and Bishop's Green. The roofs of Ashley Warren Farm, just across the lane, seemed very near in the still, cold evening air. The scent of man and of dog was strong in the gentle breeze, and the rabbits, despite their Owsla training, had to resist their natural urge to bolt. Silver approached the hole first, and was surprised to find that it had no smell of rabbit; indeed, no smell of any wild animal at all, though there was a faint, and old, trace of a man's white stick.

"You think it's safe, Bigwig?" he asked. "I can't help but be reminded of that Cowslip when I smell a white stick so close to a hole."

"But, Silver, there's no smell of man any closer than the farm, is there? Only of the white stick. I think it must have blown here from the farm. And the grass hasn't been trampled. In any case, the scent's old, and there's no other smell here at all. I'll go and have a look inside to see if I can find a place we can leave the poor fellow. Won't be long." And with that he disappeared into the earth.

Very shortly, he surfaced again. "Odd," he said. "It's almost like a small warren in there - no great hall, but side passages and so on. But in that case, why no smell of rabbits?"

No-one had an answer to that, and even Kehaar could do no better than "I no know vat for. I no see 'im before". They decided that to delay would be more dangerous than to proceed, so - not without a certain amount of difficulty - the four bucks shoved Blackavar's body down the hole and into the entrance of one of the side passages. Once out, they then scratched at the earth above its entrance until it fell, blocking the hole completely. When they were satisfied that the run was properly stopped, they set off back to the beech hanger, this time at a much faster pace. The sun had set, and it was beginning to get dark, but Kehaar assured them that there were no owls in the vicinity. Their solemn task completed, the rabbits' mood lightened somewhat, and spirits began to lift.

"Perhaps I should live in a hole like that," said Bluebell. "Then I could be Chief Rabbit all by myself. They call me Bluebell-rah you know, the elil run in fright. If I could tell you what to do-"

"We wouldn't last the night," interrupted Silver. "Come on, let's get underground; it's going to be frosty tonight - and I could just do with a nice story to listen to while I'm chewing my pellets. Have you seen Dandelion today?"

"He was teaching Pipkin how to tell stories yesterday evening," said Holly, "but I'm snared if I know where he's been today, to be honest. I assumed he was with us all at ni-Frith, but now I come to think about it I don't remember seeing him there. I hope he's all right: it would be rotten luck to lose two rabbits in one day."

"Fiver didn't seem to think there was any danger, though," pointed out Bigwig.

Fiver's stock among the veterans was as high as that of Hazel or Bigwig: no-one doubted that it was to him that they owed their very lives. So they had taken his comments at ni-Frith very seriously. Nevertheless, as he himself had said, he could not be expected to predict every one of the thousand dangers that might befall a rabbit, and the sight of an anxious Blackberry racing towards them as they came in sight of home did little to allay their concerns.