Watership Down

by Richard Adams

‘El-ahrairah, your people cannot rule the world, for I will not have it so. All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.’

“There’s been a fearful row. Bigwig told Hawkbit and Speedwell that he’d scratch them to pieces if they didn’t obey him. And when Hawkbit said he wanted to know who was Chief Rabbit, Bigwig bit him.

To come to the end of a time of anxiety and fear! To feel the cloud that hung over us lift and disperse—the cloud that dulled the heart and made happiness no more than a memory! This at least is one joy that must have been known by almost every living creature.

One of the rabbits seemed to accept what Hazel had said, but the other replied, “Oh, another poet? Let’s hear him, then. That’ll be some return for my shoulder, anyway. He’s scratched a great tuft of fur out.”

Who wants to hear about brave deeds when he’s ashamed of his own, and who likes an open, honest tale from someone he’s deceiving?

The wind ruffled their fur and tugged at the grass, which smelled of thyme and self-heal. The solitude seemed like a release and a blessing. The height, the sky and the distance went to their heads and they skipped in the sunset. “O Frith on the hills!” cried Dandelion. “He must have made it for us!”

“Go now,” said the mouse. “No wait owl. But a what I like a say. You ’elp a mouse. One time a mouse ’elp a you. You want ’im ’e come.” “Frith in a pond!” muttered Bigwig, further down the run. “And so will all his brothers and sisters. I dare say the place’ll be crawling. Why don’t you ask them to dig us a burrow or two, Hazel?”

Love the animals. God has given them the rudiments of thought and joy untroubled. Don’t trouble it, don’t harass them, don’t deprive them of their happiness, don’t work against God’s intent. Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

They live on the earth and they need food. Men will never rest till they’ve spoiled the earth and destroyed the animals.

‘Animals don’t behave like men,’ he said. ‘If they have to fight, they fight; and if they have to kill, they kill. But they don’t sit down and set their wits to work to devise ways of spoiling other creatures’ lives and hurting them. They have dignity and animality.’

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.

“Come on,” said Bigwig, “let’s get out of here!” “But what—what—Are you wounded?” asked Bluebell in bewilderment. “No,” said Bigwig, “never better! Let’s go!”

“You can pluck up your spirits, Bluebell,” he said. “I think we’re close to the iron road.” “I wouldn’t care about my spirits,” said Bluebell, “if my legs weren’t so tired. Slugs are lucky not to have legs. I think I’ll be a slug.” “Well, I’m a hedgehog,” said Hazel, “so you’d better get on!”

There is nothing that cuts you down to size like coming to some strange and marvelous place where no one even stops to notice that you stare about you.

“Come on, get out of the way,” he said. “I’m going to sleep now, Hazel, and Frith help you if you say I’m not.”

“You’ll find it much harder to push me back from here, General,” he said. With a sort of weary, dull surprise, Woundwort realized that he was afraid. He did not want to attack Thlayli again. He knew, with flinching certainty, that he was not up to it. And who was? he thought. Who could do it?

“You’ve done it, Bigwig,” he said. “They’ve all run away.” For several moments Bigwig did not move. Then he opened his eyes and raised his head, pouching out his cheeks and sniffing at the two rabbits beside him. He said nothing and Hazel wondered whether he had understood. At last he whispered, “Ees finish Meester Voundvort, ya?”