"I wonder how they're getting on with that winter burrow down the hill," said Hazel. "We're going to need it when the hard weather comes. That hole in the roof of the Honeycomb doesn't help at all. It'll close up naturally one day, I suppose, but meanwhile it's a confounded nuisance."

"Here come the burrow-diggers, anyway," said Silver.

Pipkin and Bluebell came over the crest, together with three or four of the does.

"Ah ha, ah ha, O Hazel-rah," said Bluebell. "The burrow's snug, it hath been dug, t'is free from beetle, worm and slug. And in the snow, when down we go-"

"Then what a lot to you we'll owe," said Hazel. "I mean it, too. The holes are concealed, are they?"

"Just like Efrafa, I should think," said Bluebell. "As a matter of fact, I brought one up with me to show you. You can't see it, can you? No-well, there you are. I say, just look at old Bigwig with those youngsters over there. You know, if he went back to Efrafa now they couldn't decide which Mark to put him in, could they? He's got them all."

"Come over to the evening side of the wood with us, Hazel-rah?" said Pipkin. "We came up early on purpose to have a bit of sunshine before it gets dark."

"All right," answered Hazel good-naturedly. "We've just come back from there, Silver and I, but I don't mind slipping over again for a bit."

"Let's go out to that little hollow where we found Kehaar that morning," said Silver. "It'll be out of the wind. D'you remember how he cursed at us and tried to peck us?"

"And the worms we carried?" said Bluebell. "Don't forget them."

As they came near the hollow they could hear that it was not empty. Evidently some of the other rabbits had had the same idea.

"Let's see how close we can get before they spot us," said Silver. "Real Campion style-come on."

They approached very quietly, upwind from the north. Peeping over the edge, they saw Vilthuril and her litter of four lying in the sun. Their mother was telling the young rabbits a story.

"So after they had swum the river," said Vilthuril, "El-ahrairah led his people on in the dark, through a wild, lonely place. Some of them were afraid, but he knew the way and in the morning he brought them safely to some green fields, very beautiful, with good, sweet grass. And here they found a warren; a warren that was bewitched. All the rabbits in this warren were in the power of a wicked spell. They wore shining collars round their necks and sang like the birds and some of them could fly. But for all they looked so fine, their hearts were dark and tharn. So then El-ahrairah's people said, 'Ah, see, these are the wonderful rabbits of Prince Rainbow. They are like princes themselves. We will live with them and become princes, too. »

Vilthuril looked up and saw the newcomers. She paused for a moment and then went on.

"But Frith came to Rabscuttle in a dream and warned him that that warren was enchanted. And he dug into the ground to find where the spell was buried. Deep he dug, and hard was the search, but at last he found that wicked spell and dragged it out. So they all fled from it, but it turned into a great rat and flew at El-ahrairah. Then El-ahrairah fought the rat, up and down, and at last he held it, pinned under his claws, and it turned into a great white bird which spoke to him and blessed him."

"I seem to know this story," whispered Hazel, "but I can't remember where I've heard it."

Bluebell sat up and scratched his neck with his hind leg. The little rabbits turned round at the interruption and in a moment had tumbled up the side of the hollow, squeaking "Hazel-rah! Hazel-rah!" and jumping on Hazel from all sides.

"Here, wait a minute," said Hazel, cuffing them off. "I didn't come here to get mixed up in a fight with a lot of roughs like you! Let's hear the rest of the story."

"But there's a man coming on a horse, Hazel-rah," said one of the young rabbits. "Oughtn't we to run into the wood?"

"How can you tell?" asked Hazel. "I can't hear anything."

"Neither can I," said Silver, listening with his ears up.

The little rabbit looked puzzled.

"I don't know how, Hazel-rah," he answered, "but I'm sure I'm not mistaken."

They waited for some little time, while the red sun sank lower. At last, just as Vilthuril was about to go on with the story, they heard hooves on the turf and the horseman appeared from the west, cantering easily along the track toward Cannon Heath Down.

"He won't bother us," said Silver. "No need to run: he'll just go by. You're a funny chap, though, young Threar, to spot him so far off."

"He's always doing things like that," said Vilthuril. "The other day he told me what a river looked like and said he'd seen it in a dream. It's Fiver's blood, you know. It's only to be expected with Fiver's blood."

"Fiver's blood?" said Hazel. "Well, as long as we've got some of that I dare say we'll be all right. But, you know, it's turning chilly here, isn't it? Come on, let's go down, and hear the rest of that story in a good, warm burrow. Look, there's Fiver over on the bank now. Who's going to get to him first?"

A few minutes later there was not a rabbit to be seen on the down. The sun sank below Ladle Hill and the autumn stars began to shine in the darkening east-Perseus and the Pleiades, Cassiopeia, faint Pisces and the great square of Pegasus. The wind freshened, and soon myriads of dry beech leaves were filling the ditches and hollows and blowing in gusts across the dark miles of open grass. Underground, the story continued.

"And what happened in the end?" asks the reader who has followed Hazel and his comrades in all their adventures and returned with them at last to the warren where Fiver brought them from the fields of Sandleford. The wise Mr. Lockley has told us that wild rabbits live for two or three years. He knows everything about rabbits: but all the same, Hazel lived longer than that. He lived a tidy few summers-as they say in that part of the world-and learned to know well the changes of the downs to spring, to winter and to spring again. He saw more young rabbits than he could remember. And sometimes, when they told tales on a sunny evening by the beech trees, he could not clearly recall whether they were about himself or about some other rabbit hero of days gone by.

The warren prospered and so, in the fullness of time, did the new warren on the Belt, half Watership and half Efrafan-the warren that Hazel had first envisaged on that terrible evening when he set out alone to face General Woundwort and try to save his friends against all odds. Groundsel was the first Chief Rabbit; but he had Strawberry and Buckthorn to give him advice and he had learned better than to mark anyone or to order more than a very occasional Wide Patrol. Campion readily agreed to send some rabbits from Efrafa and the first party was led by none other than Captain Avens, who acted sensibly and made a very good job of it.

General Woundwort was never seen again. But it was certainly true, as Groundsel said, that no one ever found his body, so it may perhaps be that, after all, that extraordinary rabbit really did wander away to live his fierce life somewhere else and to defy the elil as resourcefully as ever. Kehaar, who was once asked if he would look out for him in his flights over the downs, merely replied, "Dat damn rabbit-I no see 'im, I no vant I see 'im." Before many months had passed, no one on Watership knew or particularly cared to know whether he himself or his mate was descended from one or two Efrafan parents or from none at all. Hazel was glad that it should be so. And yet there endured the legend that somewhere out over the down there lived a great and solitary rabbit, a giant who drove the elil like mice and sometimes went to silflay in the sky. If ever great danger arose, he would come back to fight for those who honored his name. And mother rabbits would tell their kittens that if they did not do as they were told, the General would get them-the General who was first cousin to the Black Rabbit himself. Such was Woundwort's monument: and perhaps it would not have displeased him.