then aggressive and the Council had had to take strong measures. There was still a good deal of bad feeling over the business. Then, in the third place, the Owsla had lately lost a certain amount of respect among the rank and file.
Four wandering rabbits-giving themselves out to be some kind of embassy from another warren-had been held and impressed into the Right Flank Mark. He had intended, later, to find out where they had come from. But they had succeeded in playing a very simple trick, bamboozling the Mark commander, attacking his sentries and escaping by night. Captain Bugloss, the officer responsible, had, of course, been demoted and expelled from the Owsla, but his disgrace, though very proper, only added to the General's difficulties. The truth was that Efrafa had become, for the moment, short of good officers. Ordinary Owsla-sentries-were not too hard to find, but officers were another matter and he had lost three in less than a month. Bugloss was as good as a casualty: he would never hold rank again. But, worse, Captain Charlock-a brave and resourceful rabbit-while leading the pursuit of the fugitives, had been run down on the iron road by a train: a further proof, if any were needed, of the wicked malice of men. Worst of all, only two nights ago a patrol which had been out to the north had returned with the shocking news that its leader, Captain Mallow, an officer of exceptional prestige and experience, had been killed by a fox. It was an odd business. The patrol had picked up the scent of a fairly large party of rabbits evidently coming toward Efrafa from the north. They had been following it but had not yet sighted their quarry when suddenly a strange rabbit had burst in upon them as they were nearing the edge of some woodland. They had, of course, tried to stop him and at that moment the fox, which had apparently been following him closely, had come from the open combe beyond and killed poor Mallow in an instant. All things considered, the patrol had come away in good order and Groundsel, the second in command, had done well. But nothing more had been seen of the strange rabbit; and the loss of Mallow, with nothing to show for it, had upset and demoralized the Owsla a good deal.
Other patrols had been sent out at once, but all that they had established was that the rabbits from the north had crossed the iron road and disappeared southward. It was intolerable that they should have passed so close to Efrafa and gone their way without being apprehended. Even now they might possibly be caught, if only there were a really enterprising officer to put in charge of the search. It would certainly need an enterprising officer-Captain Campion perhaps-for patrols seldom crossed the iron road, and the wet country beyond-the country near the river-was only partly known. He would have gone himself, but with the recent disciplinary troubles in the warren he could not take the risk; and Campion could hardly be spared just now. No-infuriating as it was, the strangers were best forgotten for the moment. The first thing was to replace the Owsla losses-and preferably with rabbits who knew how to deal ruthlessly with any further signs of dissension. They would simply have to promote the best they had got, draw their horns in for a time and concentrate on training until things got back to normal.
Woundwort greeted Captain Chervil rather abstractedly and went on turning the problem over in his mind.
'What are your sentries like, Chervil?' he asked at length. 'Do I know any of them?'
'They're a good lot, sir,' replied Chervil. 'You know Marjoram: he's been on patrol with you as a runner. And I think you know Moneywort.'
'Yes, I know them,' said Woundwort, 'but they wouldn't make officers. We need to replace Charlock and Mallow: that's what I'm getting at.'
'That's difficult, sir,' said Chervil. 'That sort of rabbit doesn't hop out of the grass.'
'Well, they've got to hop from somewhere,' said Woundwort. 'You'd better think about it and tell me any ideas that occur to you. Anyway, I want to go round your sentries now. Come with me, will you?'
They were about to set off when a third rabbit approached-none other than Captain Campion himself. It was Campion's principal duty to search the outskirts of Efrafa at morning and evening and to report anything new- the tire marks of a tractor in mud, the droppings of a sparrow hawk or the spreading of fertilizer on a field. An expert tracker, he missed little or nothing and was one of the very few rabbits for whom Woundwort felt a genuine respect.
'Do you want me?' said Woundwort, pausing.
'Well, I think so, sir,' replied Campion. 'We've picked up a hlessi and brought him in.'
'Where was he?'
'Down by the arch, sir. Just this side of it.'
'What was he doing?'
'Well, sir, he says he's come a long way on purpose to join Efrafa. That's why I thought you might like to see him.'
'
'That's what he says, sir.'
'Why can't the Council see him tomorrow?'
'Just as you like, sir, of course. But he strikes me as being a bit out of the ordinary. I'd say, a distinctly useful rabbit.'
'H'm,' said Woundwort, considering. 'Well, all right. I haven't got long, though. Where is he now?'
'At the Crixa, sir.' Campion meant the crossing point of the two bridle paths, which was about fifty yards away, among the trees. 'Two of my patrol are with him.'
Woundwort made his way back to the Crixa. Chervil, being on duty with his Mark, remained where he was. Campion accompanied the General.
At this hour the Crixa was all green shade, with red gleams of sun that winked through the moving leaves. The damp grass along the edges of the paths was dotted with spikes of mauve bugle, and the sanicles and yellow archangels flowered thickly. Under an elder bush, on the far side of the track, two Owslafa, or Council police, were waiting; and with them was the stranger.
Woundwort saw at once what Campion had meant. The stranger was a big rabbit, heavy but alert, with a rugged, seasoned appearance and the look of a fighter. He had a curious thick growth of fur-a kind of topknot-on the crown of his head. He stared at Woundwort with a detached, appraising air which the General had not encountered for a very long time.
'Who are you?' said Woundwort.
'My name is Thlayli,' replied the Stranger.
'Thlayli,
The stranger said nothing.
'The patrol brought you in, I'm told. What were you doing?'
'I've come to join Efrafa.'
'Why?'
'I'm surprised you ask. It's your warren, isn't it? Is there anything odd about someone wanting to join?'
Woundwort was nonplused. He was no fool and it was, he could not help feeling, extremely odd that any right-minded rabbit should choose to walk into Efrafa of his own accord. But he could hardly say so.
'What can you do?'
'I can run and fight and spoil a story telling it. I've been an officer in an Owsla.'
'Fight, can you? Could you fight him?' said Woundwort, looking at Campion.
'Certainly, if you wish.' The stranger reared up and aimed a heavy cuff at Campion, who leaped back just in time.
'Don't be a fool,' said Woundwort. 'Sit down. Where were you in an Owsla?'
'Far off. The warren was destroyed by men, but I escaped. I've been wandering some time. It won't surprise you that I heard of Efrafa. I've come a long way to join it. I thought you might have some use for me.'
'Are you alone?'
'I am now.'
Woundwort considered again. It was likely enough that this rabbit had been an officer in an Owsla. Any Owsla would want him. If he was speaking the truth, he had had wits enough to escape the destruction of his warren and survive a long journey through open country. It must have been a very long journey, for there was no warren within the normal range of the Efrafan patrols.
'Well,' he said at length, 'I dare say we might be able to find some use for you, as you put it. Campion here will look after you tonight, and tomorrow morning you'll come before the Council. Meanwhile, don't start fighting,
