Chapter Two

The Chief Rabbit

Hazel led the way down the slope of the run and up towards the bramble curtain. He did not want to believe Fiver, but he was afraid not to.

It was ni-Innle (night) and the whole warren was underground, mostly asleep. Hazel and Fiver went a short way above ground and then into a wide, open hole in a sand patch and so down, by various runs, until they were thirty feet into the wood, among the roots of an oak.

Fiver was just about to run down the hole that led to the chief's burrow, when another rabbit popped up from out of it.

"All right, just tell me who you are and what you want", said the rabbit.

Fiver looked him up and down.

He was a big fellow, one of the biggest and strongest in the warren. He had a fearsome and grumpy nature. He had grey fur with white underside and green eyes. The most notable thing about his appearance though was his mane, which formed a full circle around his head and fell into a fringe between his ears. His name was Thlayli, but because of his mane his friends called him Bigwig.

"Bigwig, it's me" said Hazel, running over to them.

"Hazel", shouted Bigwig. "It's good to see you, and that must be Fiver with you, how are you both doing?

Bigwig and Hazel had been friends since they were small and when Hazel and Fiver's parents had been killed by elil (all the enemies of rabbits); Fiver being just a baby at the time, Bigwig had helped Hazel to look after him.

"Fiver's not good", answered Hazel, "which is why we're here, we need to see the Chief rabbit".

"We?" asked Bigwig in surprise. "Is Fiver going to see him too, why, not another one of his funny feelings is it?" Bigwig didn't really believe in Fiver's visions. "Yes he must" replied Hazel. "Do trust me, Bigwig. I don't usually come and talk like this, do I? When have I ever asked to see the Chief rabbit before?"

"Well I'll do it for you, Hazel, although I'll probably get my head bitten off. I'll tell him I know you and you're a sensible fellow. He ought to know you himself but he's getting old. Wait here will you".

Bigwig went a little way down the run and stopped at the entrance to a large burrow. After speaking a few words Hazel couldn't catch, he was evidently called inside.

The Chief rabbit's name was Threarah. He had won his position not only by strength in his prime, but also by level-headedness and a certain self-contained detachment, quite unlike the impulsive behaviour of most rabbits. He was now, as Bigwig had said, getting old, but his wits were still clear enough. When Hazel and Fiver were brought in, he greeted them politely. Owsla like Toadflax might threaten and bully. Threarah had no need.

"Ah, Walnut. It is Walnut isn't it?"

"Hazel," said Hazel.

"Hazel, of course. How very nice of you to come and see me. I knew your mother well. I would have mated her if your father hadn't. I knew him too, would have mated him if he had been a doe but he wasn't so I didn't."

"Oh," said Hazel, who was a little surprised at being told this.

"And your friend?" Threarah asked.

"My brother".

"Your brother," said Threarah, with the faintest suggestion of "Don't correct me any more will you" in his voice. "Do make yourselves comfortable. Have some lettuce?" Hazel took a small leaf and nibbled politely. Fiver refused and set blinking and twitching miserably.

"Now Walnut, Fiver, how are things with you two?" asked the Chief rabbit. "Do tell me how I can help."

"Hazel." Bigwig corrected him. "His name is Hazel."

"Of course", said Threarah. "Do forgive me. Hazel, Walnut, how can I help?"

"Well, sir," said Hazel rather hesitantly, "it's my brother-Fiver here. He can often tell when there's anything bad about, and I've found him right again and again. He knew the flood was coming last autumn and sometimes he can tell where a wire's been set. And now he says he can sense a bad danger coming upon the warren".

"A bad danger. Yes how very upsetting," said the Chief rabbit, looking anything but upset. "Now what sort of danger I wonder?' He looked at Fiver.

"I don't know," answered Fiver. "B-but it's bad. It's so b-bad that-it's very bad," he concluded miserably.

Threarah waited politely for a few moments and then said, "Well, now, and what ought we to do?"

"Go away" said Fiver instantly. "Go away. All of us. Now. Threarah sir, we must all go away.

Threarah waited again. Then in an extremely understanding voice, he said, "Well, I never did! That's rather a tall order isn't it? What do you think?" he asked Hazel. "Well, sir," replied Hazel "my brother doesn't think about these feelings he gets. He just has the feelings, if you know what I mean. I'm sure you're the right person to decide what we ought to do."

"Well that's very nice of you, to say that. Hope I am. But now, my dear fellows, let's just think about this a moment, shall we? It's May, isn't it? Everyone's busy and most of the rabbits are enjoying themselves. No elil for miles, or so they tell me. No illness, good weather. And you want me to tell the warren that young-er-young-er- your brother here has a hunch and we must all go traipsing across country to goodness knows where and risk the consequences, eh? What do you think they'll say to that? All delighted, eh?"

"They'd take it from you" said Fiver suddenly.

"That's so nice of you," replied Threarah again. "Well perhaps they would, perhaps they would. But I have to consider it very carefully indeed."

"But there's no time, Threarah, sir," blurted out Fiver. "I can feel the danger like a wire round my neck- like a wire-Hazel help!" He squealed and rolled over in the sand kicking frantically, as a rabbit does in a snare. Hazel held him down with both forepaws and he grew quieter.

"I'm awfully sorry about this, sir." said Hazel. "He gets like this sometimes. He'll be all right in a minute."

"What a shame! What a shame! Poor fellow, perhaps he ought to go home and rest. Yes you'd better take him along now. Well it's been extremely good of you to come and see me, Walnut. And I shall think over all you've said most carefully, you can be sure of that. Bigwig, just a moment, will you?

As Hazel and Fiver made their way dejectedly down the run outside Threarah's burrow, they could just hear, from inside, the Chief rabbit's voice assuming a rather sharper note, interspersed with an occasional "Yes sir," "No sir."

Bigwig as he had predicted, was getting his head bitten off.