through the undergrowth, betraying himself with every movement. He did not know how to get in touch with Kehaar again. Even if he managed to do so, would Hazel be able to bring the rabbits a second time? Perhaps they had already been spotted by Campion on patrol? To speak to Blackavar would be suspect. To go near Kehaar would be suspect. Through more holes than he could possibly stop, his secret was leaking-pouring-out.
There was worse to come.
'Thlayli,' whispered Hyzenthlay, 'do you think you and I and Thethuthinnang could get away tonight? If we fought the sentry at the mouth of the run, we might be able to get clear before a patrol could start after us.'
'Why?' asked Bigwig. 'What makes you ask that?'
'I'm frightened. We told the other does, you see, just before the silflay. They were ready to run when the bird attacked the sentries, and then nothing happened. They all know about the plan-Nelthilta and the rest-and it can't be long before the Council find out. Of course we've told them that their lives depend on keeping quiet and that you're going to try again. Thethuthinnang's watching them now: she says she'll do her best not to sleep. But no secret can be kept in Efrafa. It's even possible that one of the does is a spy, although Frith knows we chose them as carefully as we could. We may all be arrested before tomorrow morning.'
Bigwig tried to think clearly. He could certainly succeed in getting out with a couple of resolute, sensible does. But the sentry-unless he could kill him-would raise the alarm at once and he could not be sure of finding the way to the river in the dark. Even if he did, it was possible that the pursuit might follow him over the plank bridge and into the middle of his unprepared, sleeping friends. And at the best he would have come out of Efrafa with no more than a couple of does, because his nerve had failed. Silver and the others would not know what he had had to endure. They would know only that he had run away.
'No, we mustn't give up yet,' he said, as gently as he could. 'It's the thunder and the waiting that make you feel so much upset. Listen, I promise you that by this time tomorrow you'll be out of Efrafa forever and the others with you. Now go to sleep here for a little while and then go back and help Thethuthinnang. Keep thinking of those high downs and all that I told you. We'll get there-our troubles won't last much longer.'
As she fell asleep beside him, Bigwig wondered how on earth he was going to fulfill this promise and whether they would be woken by the Council police. 'If we are,' he thought, 'I'll fight until they tear me to bits. They'll make no Blackavar out of me.'
When he woke, he found that he was alone in the burrow. For a moment he wondered whether Hyzenthlay had been arrested. Then he felt sure that the Owslafa could not have removed her while he slept. She must have woken and slipped back to Thethuthinnang without disturbing him.
It was a little before dawn, but the oppression in the air had not lessened. He slipped up the run to the entrance. Moneywort, the sentry on duty, was peering uneasily out of the mouth of the hole, but turned as he approached.
'I wish it would rain, sir,' he said. 'The thunder's enough to turn the grass sour, but not much hope of it breaking before the evening, I'd say.'
'It's bad luck for the Mark's last day on dawn and evening,' replied Bigwig. 'Go and wake Captain Chervil. I'll take your place here until the Mark come up.'
When Moneywort had gone, Bigwig sat in the mouth of the hole and sniffed the heavy air. The sky seemed as close as the tops of the trees, covered with still cloud and flushed on the morning side with a lurid, foxy glow. Not a lark was up, not a thrush singing. The field before him was empty and motionless. The longing to run came over him. In less than no time he could be down to the arch. It was a safe bet that Campion and his patrol would not be out in weather like this. Every living creature up and down the fields and copses must be muted, pressed down as though under a great, soft paw. Nothing would be moving, for the day was unpropitious and instincts were blurred and not to be trusted. It was a time to crouch and be silent. But a fugitive would be safe. Indeed, he could not hope for a better chance.
'O Lord with the starlight ears, send me a sign!' said Bigwig.
He heard movement in the run behind him. It was the Owslafa bringing up the prisoner. In the thundery twilight, Blackavar looked more sick and dejected than ever. His nose was dry and the whites of his eyes showed. Bigwig went out into the field, pulled a mouthful of clover and brought it back.
'Cheer up,' he said to Blackavar. 'Have some clover.'
'That's not allowed, sir,' said one of the escort.
'Oh, let him have it, Bartsia,' said the other. 'There's no one to see. It's hard enough for everyone on a day like this, let alone the prisoner.'
Blackavar ate the clover and Bigwig took up his usual place as Chervil arrived to watch the Mark go out.
The rabbits were slow and hesitant and Chervil himself seemed unable to rise to his usual brisk manner. He had little to say as they passed him. He let both Thethuthinnang and Hyzenthlay go by in silence. Nelthilta, however, stopped of her own accord and stared impudently at him.
'Under the weather, Captain?' she said 'Brace up, now. You may have a surprise soon, who knows?'
'What do you mean?' answered Chervil sharply.
'Does might grow wings and fly,' said Nelthilta, 'and before very much longer, too. Secrets go faster than moles underground.'
She followed the other does into the field. For a moment Chervil looked as though he were going to call her back.
'I wonder whether you could have a look at my off hind foot?' said Bigwig. 'I think I've got a thorn in it.'
'Come on, then,' said Chervil, 'outside. Not that we'll be able to see much better there.'
But whether because he was still thinking about what Nelthilta had said, or for some other reason, he did not make a particularly thorough search for the thorn-which was perhaps as well, for there was no thorn there.
'Oh, confound it!' he said, looking up, 'there's that dratted white bird again. What's it keep coming here for?' 'Why does it worry you?' asked Bigwig. 'It's not doing any harm-only looking for snails.'
'Anything out of the ordinary is a possible source of danger,' replied Chervil, quoting Woundwort. 'And you keep away from it today, Thlayli, d'you see? That's an order.'
'Oh, very well,' said Bigwig. 'But surely you know how to get rid of them? I thought all rabbits knew that.' 'Don't be ridiculous. You're not suggesting attacking a bird that size, with a beak as thick as my front paw?'
'No, no-it's a sort of charm thing that my mother taught me. You know, like 'Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home. That works and so does this-or it always used to with my mother.'
'The ladybird thing only works because all ladybirds crawl to the top of the stem and then fly.'
'Well, all right,' said Bigwig, 'have it your own way. But you don't like the bird and I've offered to get rid of it for you. We had a lot of these charms and sayings in my old warren. I only wish we'd had one to get rid of men.'
'Well, what is the charm?' said Chervil.
'You say,
'Of course, you have to use hedgerow talk. No use expecting them to understand Lapine. Let's have a go, anyway. If it doesn't work, we're none the worse, and if it does, the Mark will think it was you who drove the bird away. Where's it got to? I can hardly see anything in this light. Oh, there it is, look, behind those thistles. Well, you run like this. Now you have to hop to this side, then to the other side, scratch with your legs-that's right, splendid- cock your ears and then go straight on until-ah! Here we are; now then:
