Watership Down - Adams Richard George (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации TXT) 📗

A little while after ni-Frith the sky clouded over thickly. The light grew dull and they could smell rain approaching from the west. The blue tit that had been swinging on a bramble, singing "Heigh ho, go-and-get-another-bit-of-moss," stopped his acrobatics and flew into the wood. Hazel was just wondering whether it would be worthwhile starting a side passage to link Bigwig's hole to Dandelion's, when he felt a stamp of warning from somewhere close by. He turned quickly. It was Fiver who had stamped and he was now staring intently across the field.

Beside a tussock of grass a little way outside the opposite copse, a rabbit was sitting and gazing at them. Its ears were erect and it was evidently giving them the full attention of sight, smell and hearing. Hazel rose on his hind legs, paused, and then sat back on his haunches, in full view. The other rabbit remained motionless. Hazel, never taking his eyes off it, heard three or four of the others coming up behind him. After a moment he said,

"Blackberry?"

"He's down the hole," replied Pipkin.

"Go and get him."

Still the strange rabbit made no move. The wind rose and the long grass began to flutter and ripple in the dip between them. From behind, Blackberry said,

"You wanted me, Hazel?"

"I'm going over to speak to that rabbit," said Hazel. "I want you to come with me."

"Can I come?" asked Pipkin.

"No, Hlao-roo. We don't want to frighten him. Three's too many."

"Be careful," said Buckthorn, as Hazel and Blackberry set off down the slope. "He may not be the only one."

At several points the brook was narrow-not much wider than a rabbit run. They jumped it and went up the opposite slope.

"Just behave as if we were back at home," said Hazel. "I don't see how it can be a trap, and anyway we can always run."

As they approached, the other rabbit kept still and watched them intently. They could see now that he was a big fellow, sleek and handsome. His fur shone and his claws and teeth were in perfect condition. Nevertheless, he did not seem aggressive. On the contrary, there was a curious, rather unnatural gentleness about the way in which he waited for them to come nearer. They stopped and looked at him from a little distance.

"I don't think he's dangerous," whispered Blackberry. "I'll go up to him first if you like."

"We'll both go," replied Hazel. But at this moment the other rabbit came toward them of his own accord. He and Hazel touched their noses together, sniffing and questioning silently. The stranger had an unusual smell, but it was certainly not unpleasant. It gave Hazel an impression of good feeding, of health and of a certain indolence, as though the other came from some rich, prosperous country where he himself had never been. He had the air of an aristocrat and as he turned to gaze at Blackberry from his great brown eyes, Hazel began to see himself as a ragged wanderer, leader of a gang of vagabonds. He had not meant to be the first to speak, but something in the other's silence compelled him.

"We've come over the heather," he said.

The other rabbit made no reply, but his look was not that of an enemy. His demeanor had a kind of melancholy which was perplexing.

"Do you live here?" asked Hazel, after a pause.

"Yes," replied the other rabbit; and then added, "We saw you come."

"We mean to live here, too," said Hazel firmly.

The other rabbit showed no concern. He paused and then answered, "Why not? We supposed you would. But I don't think there are enough of you, are there, to live very comfortably on your own?"

Hazel felt puzzled. Apparently the stranger was not worried by the news that they meant to stay. How big was his warren? Where was it? How many rabbits were concealed in the copse and watching them now? Were they likely to be attacked? The stranger's manner told nothing. He seemed detached, almost bored, but perfectly friendly. His lassitude, his great size and beautiful, well-groomed appearance, his unhurried air of having all he wanted and of being unaffected by the newcomers one way or the other-all these presented Hazel with a problem unlike anything he had had to deal with before. If there was some kind of trick, he had no idea what it might be. He decided that he himself, at any rate, would be perfectly candid and plain.

"There are enough of us to protect ourselves," he said. "We don't want to make enemies, but if we meet with any kind of interference-"

The other interrupted smoothly. "Don't get upset-you're all very welcome. If you're going back now, I'll come over with you: that is, unless you have any objection."

He set off down the slope. Hazel and Blackberry, after looking at each other for a moment, caught him up and went beside him. He moved easily, without haste and showed less caution than they in crossing the field. Hazel felt more mystified than ever. The other rabbit evidently had no fear that they might set upon him, hrair to one, and kill him. He was ready to go alone among a crowd of suspicious strangers, but what he stood to gain from this risk it was impossible to guess. Perhaps, thought Hazel wryly, teeth and claws would make no impression on that great, firm body and shining pelt.

When they reached the ditch, all the other rabbits were squatting together, watching their approach. Hazel stopped in front of them but did not know what to say. If the stranger had not been there, he would have given them an account of what had happened. If Blackberry and he had driven the stranger across the field by force, he could have handed him over for safekeeping to Bigwig or Silver. But to have him sitting beside him, looking his followers over in silence and courteously waiting for someone else to speak first-this was a situation beyond Hazel's experience. It was Bigwig, straightforward and blunt as always, who broke the tension.

"Who is this, Hazel?" he said. "Why has he come back with you?"

"I don't know," answered Hazel, trying to look frank and feeling foolish. "He came of his own accord."

"Well, we'd better ask him, then," said Bigwig, with something like a sneer. He came close to the stranger and sniffed, as Hazel had done. He, too, was evidently affected by the peculiar smell of prosperity, for he paused as though in uncertainty. Then, with a rough, abrupt air, he said, "Who are you and what do you want?"

"My name is Cowslip," said the other. "I don't want anything. I hear you've come a long way."

"Perhaps we have," said Bigwig. "We know how to defend ourselves, too."

"I'm sure you do," said Cowslip, looking round at the mud-stained, bedraggled rabbits with an air of being too polite to comment. "But it can be hard to defend oneself against the weather. There's going to be rain and I don't think your scrapes are finished." He looked at Bigwig, as though waiting for him to ask another question. Bigwig seemed confused. Clearly, he could make no more of the situation than Hazel. There was silence except for the sound of the rising wind. Above them, the branches of the oak tree were beginning to creak and sway. Suddenly, Fiver came forward.

"We don't understand you," he said. "It's best to say so and try to get things clear. Can we trust you? Are there many other rabbits here? Those are the things we want to know."

Cowslip showed no more concern at Fiver's tense manner than he had at anything that had gone before. He drew a forepaw down the back of one ear and then replied,

"I think you're puzzling yourselves unnecessarily. But if you want the answers to your questions, then I'd say yes, you can trust us: we don't want to drive you away. And there is a warren here, but not as big a one as we should like. Why should we want to hurt you? There's plenty of grass, surely?"

In spite of his strange, clouded manner, he spoke so reasonably that Hazel felt rather ashamed.