"Later, when El-ahrairah began to get better, they wandered on, but they could not find their way back. They were confused in their wits and had to beg help and shelter of other animals whom they met. Their journey home lasted three months, and many adventures they had. Some these, as you know, are stories in themselves. Once they lived with a lendri and found pheasants' eggs for him in the wood. And once they barely escaped from the middle of a hayfield when the hay was cutting. All the time, Rabscuttle looked after El-ahrairah, brought him fresh dock leaves and kept the flies from his wounds until they healed.

"At last, one day, they came back to the warren. It was evening, and as the sun stretched out all the hills, they could see any number of rabbits at silflay, nibbling in the grass and playing over the ant heaps. They stopped at the top of the field, sniffing the gorse and herb robert on the wind.

" 'Well, they look all right, said El-ahrairah. 'A healthy lot, really. Let's just slip in quietly and see whether we can find one or two of the Owsla captains underground. We don't want a lot of fuss.

"They made their way along the hedgerow, but could not altogether get their bearings, because apparently the warren had grown bigger and there were more holes than before, both in the bank and in the field. They stopped to speak to a group of smart young bucks and does sitting under the elder bloom.

" 'We want to find Loosestrife, said Rabscuttle. 'Can you tell us where his burrow is?

" 'I never heard of him, answered one of the bucks. 'Are you sure he's in this warren?

" 'Unless he's dead, said Rabscuttle. 'But surely you must have heard of Captain Loosestrife? He was an officer of the Owsla in the fighting.

" 'What fighting? asked another buck.

" 'The fighting against King Darzin, replied Rabscuttle.

" 'Here, do me a favor, old fellow, will you? said the buck. 'That fighting-I wasn't born when it finished.

" 'But surely you know the Owsla captains who were? said Rabscuttle.

" 'I wouldn't be seen dead with them, said the buck. 'What, that white-whiskered old bunch? What do we want to know about them?

" 'What they did, said Rabscuttle.

" 'That war lark, old fellow? said the first buck. 'That's all finished now. That's got nothing to do with us.

" 'If this Loosestrife fought King What's-His-Name, that's his business, said one of the does. 'It's not our business, is it?

" 'It was all a very wicked thing, said another doe. 'Shameful, really. If nobody fought in wars, there wouldn't be any, would there? But you can't get old rabbits to see that.

" 'My father was in it, said the second buck. 'He gets on about it sometimes. I always go out quick. "They did this and then we did that" and all that caper. Makes you curl up, honest. Poor old geezer, you'd think he'd want to forget about it. I reckon he makes half of it up. And where did it get him, tell me that?

" 'If you don't mind waiting a little while, sir, said a buck to El-ahrairah, 'I'll go and see if I can find Captain Loosestrife for you. I don't actually know him myself, but then it's rather a big warren.

" 'That's good of you, said El-ahrairah, 'but I think I've got my bearings now and I can manage by myself.

"El-ahrairah went along the hedgerow to the wood and sat alone under a nut bush, looking out across the fields. As the light began to fail, he suddenly realized that Lord Frith was close beside him, among the leaves.

" 'Are you angry, El-ahrairah? asked Lord Frith.

" 'No, my lord, replied El-ahrairah, 'I am not angry. But I have learned that with creatures one loves, suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them. A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, even though he may think otherwise himself.

" 'Wisdom is found on the desolate hillside, El-ahrairah, where none comes to feed, and the stony bank where the rabbit scratches a hole in vain. But, speaking of gifts, I have brought a few trifles for you. A pair of ears, tail and some whiskers. You may find the ears slightly strange at first. I put a little starlight in them, but it is really quite faint: not enough, I am sure, to give away a clever thief like you. Ah, there is Rabscuttle coming back. Good, I have something for him, too. Shall we- »

"Hazel! Hazel-rah!" It was Pipkin's voice from behind a clump of burdock on the edge of the little circle of listeners. "There's a fox coming up the combe!"

Some people have the idea that rabbits spend a good deal of their time running away from foxes. It is true that every rabbit fears the fox and will bolt if it smells one. But many rabbits go all their lives without seeing a fox and probably only a few actually fall victim to an enemy who smells strongly and cannot run as fast as they can. A fox trying to catch a rabbit usually creeps upwind under cover-perhaps through a patch of woodland to the edge. Then, if he succeeds in getting close to where the rabbits are at silflay along the bank or in the field, he lies still and watches his chance for a quick snatch. It is said that sometimes he fascinates them, as the weasel does, by rolling and playing in the open, coming closer little by little until he can make a grab. However this may be, it is certain that no fox hunts rabbits by going openly up a combe at sunset.

Neither Hazel nor any of the rabbits who had been listening to Dandelion's story had ever seen a fox. Nevertheless, they knew that a fox in the open, plain to be seen, is not dangerous as long as it is spotted in time. Hazel realized that he had been careless to allow everyone to gather round Dandelion and to have failed to post even one sentry. What wind there was was from the northeast and the fox, coming up the combe from the west, might have broken in upon them without warning. But from this danger they had been saved by Fiver and Pipkin going into the open. Even in his flash of alarm as Pipkin spoke, it crossed Hazel's mind that Fiver, no doubt reluctant to advise him in front of the others, had probably seized the opportunity provided by Pipkin's fear to post himself as a sentry.

Hazel thought quickly. If the fox were not too close, all they had to do was run. There was woodland nearby and they could vanish into it, keeping more or less together, and simply continue on their way. He pushed through the burdocks.

"How close is it?" he asked. "And where's Fiver?"

"I'm here," replied Fiver, from a few yards away. He was squatting under the long briars of a dog rose and did not turn his head as Hazel came up beside him. "And there's the fox," he added. Hazel followed his gaze.

The rough, weed-covered ground of the combe sloped away below them, a long dip bounded on the north by Caesar's Belt. The last of the setting sun shone straight up it through a break in the trees. The fox was below them and still some way off. Although it was almost directly downwind and therefore must be able to smell them, it did not look as though it were particularly interested in rabbits. It was trotting steadily up the combe like a dog, trailing its white-tipped brush. In color it was sandy brown, with dark legs and ears. Even now, though obviously not hunting, it had a crafty, predatory look that made the watchers among the dog roses shiver. As it passed behind a patch of thistles and disappeared from view, Hazel and Fiver returned to the others.

"Come on," said Hazel. "If you've never seen a fox, don't bother to go and look now. Just follow me."

He was about to lead the way up the south side of the combe when suddenly a rabbit shouldered him roughly aside, pushed past Fiver and was gone into the open. Hazel stopped and looked round in amazement.