Hazel came out on the further side of the ilexes
and followed the path round a bend. Then he stopped
dead and sat back on his haunches. Immediately in
front of him, Bigwig and Dandelion were staring out
from the sheer edge of a high bank, and below the
bank ran a stream.


It was in fact the little river Enborne, twelve
to fifteen feet wide and at this time of year two
or three feet deep with spring rain, but to the
rabbits it seemed immense, such a river as they had
never imagined.


The moon had almost set and the night was now
dark, but they could see the water faintly shining as
it flowed and could just make out, on the further
side, a thin belt of nut trees and alders. Somewhere
beyond, a plover called three or four times and was silent.


One by one, most of the others came up, stopped
at the bank and looked at the water without speaking. A
chilly breeze was moving and several of them
trembled where they sat. "Well, this is a nice
surprise, Hazel," said Bigwig at length. "Or were you
expecting this when you took us into the wood?"


Hazel realized wearily that Bigwig was probably
going to be troublesome. He was certainly no coward,
but he was likely to remain steady only as long as he
could see his way clear and be sure of what to do.


To him, perplexity was worse than danger; and when he
was perplexed he usually grew angry. The day before,
Fiver's warning had troubled him, and he had spoken in
anger to the Threarah and left the Owsla.


Then, while he was in an uncertain mood about the idea
of leaving the warren, Captain Holly had appeared in
capital time to be attacked and to provide a perfect
reason for their departure.
Now, at the sight of the river, Bigwig's assurance was
leaking again and unless he, Hazel, could restore it in
some way, they were likely to be in for trouble. He
thought of the Threarah and his wily courtesy.


"I don't know what we should have done without you just
now, Bigwig," he said. "What was that animal? Would it
have killed us?" "A lendri," said Bigwig. "I've heard about
them in the Owsla. They're not really dangerous.


They can't catch a rabbit that runs, and nearly always
you can smell them coming. They're funny things: I've
heard of rabbits living almost on top of them and coming
to no harm. But they're best avoided, all the same.


They'll dig out rabbit kittens and they'll kill an
injured rabbit if they find one. They're one of the
Thousand, all right. I ought to have guessed from the
smell, but it was new to me."


"It had killed before it met us," said Blackberry with
a shudder. "I saw the blood on its lips." "A rat,
perhaps, or pheasant chicks. Lucky for us it had killed,
otherwise it might have been quicker. Still, fortunately
we did the right thing. We really came out of it very well,"
said Bigwig.


Fiver came limping down the path with Pipkin. They,
too, checked and stared at the sight of the river. "What
do you think we ought to do now, Fiver?" asked Hazel.


Fiver looked down at the water and twitched his ears. "We
shall have to cross it," he said. "But I don't think I
can swim, Hazel. I'm worn out, and Pipkin's a good deal
worse than I am."


"Cross it?" cried Bigwig. "Cross it? Who's going to cross
it? What do you want to cross it for? I never heard such
nonsense." Like all wild animals, rabbits can swim if they
have to; and some even swim when it suits them.


Rabbits have been known to live on the edge of a wood and
regularly swim a brook to feed in the fields beyond. But
most rabbits avoid swimming, and certainly an exhausted
rabbit could not swim the Enborne.


"I don't want to jump in there," said Speedwell. "Why not
just go along the bank?" asked Hawkbit. Hazel suspected
that if Fiver felt they ought to cross the river, it might be
dangerous not to. But how were the others to be persuaded?


At this moment, as he was still wondering what to say to
them, he suddenly realized that something had lightened his
spirits. What could it be? A smell? A sound? Then he knew.


Nearby, across the river, a lark had begun to twitter and
climb. It was morning. A blackbird called one or two deep,
slow notes and was followed by a wood pigeon. Soon they
were in a gray twilight and could see that the stream
bordered the further edge of the wood. On the other side
lay open fields.