Next day, they set to work expanding the tunnels. The job went on in shifts and the rabbits took it in turns to feed, play, and lie in the sun above ground. Mackey was the only one who did not help; he wanted to, but Stan insisted he rest until he had recovered from his injuries. Strawberry proved to be surprisingly useful; it turned out he had been involved in the construction of his old warren, and he was full of helpful ideas. It was he who suggested burrowing directly beneath the trees, so that the roots would serve as a kind of ceiling.

In the afternoon, Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Shelly were munching on some grass when Stan spied a kestrel about to swoop down on a mouse. "Look!" he said. "That bird's about to kill him."

"So what?" said Shelly. "It's not bothering us."

"I think we should help the mouse," said Stan.

When Kenny heard that, he decided to take matters into his own paws. He walked straight up to the bird and began waving his arms in the air. "Mmmmm mmmm mmmmm mmmmm!"

The kestrel turned on Kenny and began attacking him instead of the mouse. It tore Kenny's stomach open with its savage claws. Kenny's guts spilled out on the ground.

"Oh, my Frith, you killed Kenny!" Stan yelled at the bird.

"You bastard!" said Kyle.

Now the kestrel flew at Stan. Instinctively Stan curled into a ball, but the bird started pecking him with its beak. Stan was sure he was a goner.

"Leave my brother alone, ya turd!" Shelly shouted. She hurled herself at the kestrel like a furry cannonball. Taken by surprise, the bird was knocked to the ground. He got back up, but Shelly was ready for him. She shot out her paw. It connected just below the kestrel's chin and sent him sprawling again. That was enough for the kestrel. It flew away screeching.

"Way to go, Shelly!" Stan cheered.

"I couldn't let him kill you," Shelly said. "That's my job."

The mouse approached the rabbits. "You 'elp a mouse," he said in broken Lapine. "One day, a mouse 'elp you. You want 'im, 'e come."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Meanwhile, Cartman was talking to Cowslip and a few of Cowslip's friends.

"We've got a pretty sweet setup here," he said. "But what if we could make it even better?"

"What do you mean?" asked a rabbit named Kingcup.

Cartman leaned forward. "How would you like it if we could prevent the traps from ever killing us?"

"Go on," said Cowslip. "We're all ears."

"Okay, the reason we keep getting caught is because we don't know where the traps are, right? But what if someone took a long stick and held it out in front of him? That way, the trap would catch the stick, and then it wouldn't be able to kill us. If we sprung all the traps that way, we'd be totally safe!"

"I never thought of that before," said Cowslip. "Let's try it."

They went to the edge of the meadow. Cartman found a stick and picked it up. Slowly, carefully, he walked forward, holding the stick in front of him the whole time, and Cowslip and the others followed behind. Presently they heard a loud snap as the stick broke. It had gotten caught in one of the snares.

"Okay, that's one," said Cartman. "Let's find the rest." He was feeling immensely proud of himself. Stan and Kyle thought they were so smart, but catch either of them having the brains to come up with a scheme like this!

Cartman got another stick and walked around until he found the next trap. He continued doing this all afternoon. He went around and around until he was confident he'd gotten them all.

"This is amazing!" said Cowslip. "We don't have to fear the shining wires anymore!"

"Maybe we should make another picture," said a doe named Laburnum. "A picture of you, Cartman."

No one had ever looked at Cartman the way these rabbits were looking at him now. He realized the expression on their faces was respect, maybe even awe.

Then Cartman suddenly got another flash of inspiration. "Wait a minute! I've got an even better idea!"

He picked up one of the snares and removed the stick from it. Then, he moved it a few feet to the right. He opened it back up again.

"What did you do that for?" Cowslip asked.

Cartman chuckled. "Oh, you'll see."

Just then they heard the sound of humans approaching. It was the farmer and his wife. "Quick, under here!" said Cartman, and they hid under a bush.

The farmer had come to check his traps. "I wish you wouldn't keep doin' this to those pore rabbits," his wife was telling him. "It seems so crool."

"I got no choice," he said. "It's the only business on this farm that's turnin' a profit."

"If you 'ave ter kill 'em, why not jus' shoot 'em?"

"That 'ud mess up their pelts," the farmer said crossly. "Remember, I'm sellin 'em for the furs."

They were now approaching the bush where Cartman and the others were hiding. Cartman could barely contain his excitement. "Yes, yes, that's it, just take two more steps, you moron!"

Suddenly, the farmer let out an earsplitting wail. He had stepped in the trap Cartman had moved, and it snapped shut on his foot just as it had on Kenny.

He toppled to the ground, writhing in pain. As he lay clutching his injured foot and screaming, he happened to glance over at the bush, and he saw Cartman underneath. He would swear to his friends at the pub in town the next day that the rabbit had looked up at him and smiled.