Christmas 2012
Old Dogs Can Learn New Tricks
The rabbits bolted, as was their natural instinct, but where they bolted to was inconvenient.
“Why did we have to bolt to this tree?” Bigwig huffed. The seven rabbits had taken refuge behind the Christmas tree. The lights lit up their fur in different shades and the prickly pines caught in their fur.
“Where do we go, Hazel?” Campion asked, blending in behind the narrow stump of a trunk.
“Fiver said something about a bunker,” Hazel thought out loud, “but he’s tharn so we can’t exactly ask him.” The small chestnut was pressing into himself and making himself as small as physical possible. Ivy nipped him gently in vain as he responded with not as much as a flicker.
“I know what a bunker is,” Campion and Bigwig said together, then exchanged looks.
“What do you know?” Campion questioned curiously.
“Owsla told me and I’m sure they told you too,” Bigwig suggested with a hint of ‘correct me if I’m wrong.’
“They did, but this doesn’t seem like the best idea Fiver’s ever had.”
“We’re not really in the best possible situation, it couldn’t make things much worse.”
“Er…” Hazel put in timidly. “What?”
“A bunker is another one of men’s version of a warren, only smaller. They use it more for storage…” Bigwig recalled.
“And use it as a bolt hole from danger,” Campion finished.
“Does Fiver really think this wise?” Primrose thought nervously.
“I trust him completely, Primrose and Hazel,” Ivy said firmly. “Let’s do it, whatever it is exactly he said we should do.”
“We go to this bunker then?” Blackberry realised, hiding alongside a strange box clothed in silver as her own silvery fur didn’t blend with much else.
“Bigwig, Campion, do you think you two could locate this bunker and led us to it?” Hazel said hopefully.
“We could try,” the two captains replied in their confident manner.
“Let us scout ahead and get back to you, no point in all of us attracting man’s attention,” Campion instructed.
“Talking about man, did anyone see him since we bolted?” Hazel peered through the low branches, tucking his paws into himself.
“He’s sitting on that animal.” Primrose quivered with fear, indicating with her ears. The familiar farm man was slouched with his feet up on one of the armchairs, watching the television intently.
“He’s got another strange animal, one that moves without shifting and creates different noises.” Campion narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“No matter what it is, we have a duty to do.” Bigwig crawled awkwardly behind a coffee table beside the tree, followed rapidly by Campion. Blackberry fretfully switched her gaze between the human and the bucks.
“Here’s a new fix for the kittens to hear about,” Hazel chuckled dryly. “We’ll see them again, Primrose.” He comforted her.
They waited in tense silence, with only the sounds of the new and frightening animal feeding their fear. A clock on the mantelpiece struck ten without anymore news from the two owslars.
Hazel was beginning to groom himself fitfully for distraction until he seen the form of two rabbits out in the run that connected all the man burrows.
“It’s time to move,” he hissed to the others.
“How will we get out? Fiver can’t move,” Ivy burst worriedly.
“He’ll have to,” Hazel said regretfully. Moving towards Fiver he gave him a sharp nip on the ear and sure enough the mystic jumped back to his senses.
“We’re going to the bunker now?” Fiver looked for confirmation.
“Yes,” Hazel panted from anxiety, “come now. Any plans for getting us over to that dark run, Blackberry?” Hazel sought solace desperately. “I’m not sure we can go the same route as the other two as man would be bound to notice hrair rabbits.”
Blackberry was quiet in contemplation for many heartbeats, poised facing Campion and Bigwig across the room. She was mouthing something and showing many gazes towards the resting human.
“What-,” Hazel inquired, before being hushed ruefully from the intelligent doe.
One of the two shadows that they knew to be Bigwig and Campion moved back into the room, creeping stealthily and making the hairs on each of the rabbits back rise in anticipation.
“As soon as the man chases him, we bolt for that run and follow their scents to the bunker,” Blackberry explained, taking position at the front of the tree’s concealment.
A sharp man squeal sounded and the shadow rabbit shot like an arrow back to where he came. The man followed with heavy footfalls and awkward, clumsy flight.
The five rabbits under the Christmas tree exploded out of the presents, feet catching in ribbons and matting, both their terror carried them far. Hazel and Blackberry did not dare question how what they were going to attempt next would turn out. The unnaturally large man run breathed about them, the rabbits’ paws dancing momentarily as they argued which way to run.
“Hazel!” Bigwig whispered loudly, the distinctive mane brushing by their noses. Without words they followed the white of his tail. The stairs poised a challenge, where they had to take it slow.
“Weird creatures had to make steeples for their homes, hills aren’t good enough,” Bigwig growled, tripping over his big paws. Wooden floors were clearly not made for rabbit feet. They skidded and tried balancing, then giving up, sprinting blindly whilst paying no attention to the strain on their limbs as they were stretched every which way.
Bigwig disappeared in the pitch blackness that descended the further they ran, and they found him crouched near a slightly ajar window that was level with the grass and allowed the wintery breeze to feed their lungs.
Bigwig kicked out with powerful hind legs at the glass, starting at the hollow echo that he got in return. A commotion from where they had come was apparent, complete with the man’s voice shouting out angrily and forming harsh words. A rabbits claws scratched against the wooden flooring that they knew was just above the bunker, obviously in great hurry. The dark shape pelted down the stairs, paws not gaining a hold but rather slipping downwards. Campion climbed roughly over a heap of man junk in the corner and shadows, lying flat and holing his breathe while trying to regain it.
He shared looks of exasperation with them, as their eyes glowed faintly at the small sliver of moonlight shining in the window. The human handled a gun, cradling it lovingly and with the air of smugness.
“A nice fur for my wall and meat for tomorrow’s dinner,” he said, pleased with himself and reaching for a light switch. “Then I’ll focus on the other blighters that I heard. Damn rodents!”
Blackberry could be heard snapping her mouth shut and growling. She pushed her head forcefully at a weak point in a small tower of storage boxes to her left and they toppled with an ear splitting and heart pounding crash. The man jumped with a shout of shock, tripping over in his feet trying to snatch the runaway rabbit and securing the window so the others couldn’t escape.
“Where now, Hazel?” Bigwig shouted over the uproar.
“Hannah! Did Hickory and Marigold send you?” Hazel sang happily, pressing his nose under the open glass.
“Long story, but yes. How in the name of Frith do I work this contraption?” she answered critically, the field mouse using all the strength she had to work the catch on the outer glass side.
“Hannah, push it up,” Campion panted, leaning on the wall right to the side.
“It will come lose so be careful it doesn’t swing,” Bigwig cautioned quickly.
“Owlsa,” they both answered to the looks of admiration and disbelief from the rest of the rabbits.
“Are ‘azel and the rest inside?”
“Keharr!” Fiver exclaimed.
“Yes, yes, he’s back from holiday, bigger problems here!” Bigwig pushed his heavy head against the pane.
“Man! Ivy shouted, bolting backwards.
“Hazel growled impatiently and turned with teeth bared, sinking them into the outstretched hand on his scruff, and pawing the rifle from his grasp. “No man is going to have us for decoration!”
The others were stunned by Hazel’s out of character move before being shoved out of the now wide enough to fit window.
“Move yourself!” Bigwig ordered, only stepping out into the snow after his chief. The window was swinging like a door, and feeling a need to play up as Hazel had, Campion used his shoulder to swing the glass back with force enough to make the crouched man back up in pain, and cradling a bleeding nose.
“That felt good!” Bigwig chuckled, as they ran like moon mad rabbits to the down.
“Talk about playing with fire,” Hazel said with excitement.
“We never had played it safe, why stop now?” Blackberry rolled her eyes.
“I take it Hickory, Moss, Marigold and the rest got home safe?” Ivy called up to Keharr and Hannah.
“Ah, ya. They away a while ago but said to wish ya ‘appy Frithmas.”
“I knew Moss would get them out of that situation.” Campion smiled.
“What exactly did you do to the man to make him chase you?” Bigwig tilted his head back to Campion.
“Blackberry wanted me to distract the man so I bit his paw,” Campion chuckled.
“Our warren is a legend.” Hazel shook his head in amazement.
The seven rabbits, now frozen with droplets of snow resting in their fur, especially Bigwig’s fur collar that had icicles, soon found a warm corner of the Honeycomb. Spartina nuzzled Bigwig warm.
“I swear one day we’re not going to be so lucky,” Spartina scolded, but they could tell she didn’t mean it.
“Hey Yew, Brunnea,” Campion greeted.
Brunnea lay down carefully, as she was carrying her second litter. “Beware hrair kits are playing hide and track in the network of burrows down back.”
“Oh, what’s the worst that could happen.” Blackberry rolled onto her side.
“How come I wasn’t invited?” Yew pretended to be outraged.
“Trust me.” Campion looked at him steadily. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Thanks for the vision, Fiver. You saved us,” Hazel said graciously.
“It’s just another day, Hazel. We’ve been through much worse.”
And so another year went on the windswept downs, with nothing much having changed. Gone were the days of struggling to get by and worrying about the future of the warren. But even though new generations were born each season, the old would stay on, if not in boy then in the wonderful stories that they themselves have created.