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tanaquificTitle: Kehaar's Quest
Fandom: Watership Down – Richard Adams
Rating: General
Contains: Nothing beyond canon
Words: 1220 words
Summary: "Now I fly for you." Kehaar sets out on his search for more rabbits. Written as a Yuletide treat forwasuremono.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Richard Adams novel Watership Down. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: Thanks to Scribbler (scribblesinink) for the beta.
oOo
Kehaar scanned the ground below as he flew along the ridge. The grass stood stiff and motionless in the heat of the day and, at this height, the world over which he passed was silent, though from the direction in which the sun stood, he could hear the rattle and bang of one of those land-boats of Men that rushed across the countryside faster than a gull could fly.
Not for the first time that morning, he found himself unnerved by the stillness of the ground below and the air around him. He had to fight the urge to turn toward where he'd heard the train and fly over it and then on and on.... On until he found the ever-restless sea and could again hear the waves breaking against the shore and perhaps even meet with others of his kind.
No: he had promised the rabbits that he would fly for them, find them mates if he could, and he would honour that promise. He would have been finished, and quickly, without them nursing him through his injury. It was only right for him to help them in return.
The memory of Bigwig and the others fetching worms and beetle-rich sticks made him notice he was both hungry and a little tired. His wing was sound enough now, but he seemed to have lost some of the knack of effortlessly riding the air currents for hours.
A little way ahead, he saw one of those small copses, like the one near the rabbits' home, that in places hugged the slopes of the down just below the ridge. Gliding down, he landed just outside the spinney. Experience had taught him that there would be easy pickings in the open ground between the trees.
Twenty minutes later, he had sated his appetite and regathered his strength. Arching his wings wide, he lumbered back up into the sky.
By the time he landed again, he was beginning to wonder if this quest was as useless as sitting on an empty nest. It seemed as if the rabbits he had left behind were the only ones living in these hills: there had been no sign of any creature in the grass below larger than a field-mouse. Of course, that might be because most sensible creatures were drowsing as the day's heat reached its zenith. The rabbits, he knew, preferred to feed and play at dusk and dawn. Yet he was troubled that he had yet to spot any of the tell-tale trails of worn and flattened turf that made Bigwig's home so obvious to him from the air.
Settling into the grass, resting his tired muscles, he pondered the task he had set himself. It had seemed so simple when Bigwig had explained the rabbits' predicament a few days ago, something that could be accomplished quickly. Yet now he wondered: how far should he go before he turned back? The hills stretched for miles in either direction, toward where the sun rose and where it set, but the rabbits could not run as swiftly as he could fly. A journey that might take him a day or two could take them weeks and it would be little use to his friends if any rabbits he found were out of reach.
He decided to fly on slowly in the same direction until the sun set. Then, at first light, he would return quickly over the ground he had already covered and on past the warren, before slowly scanning the ridge for a day's flight in the other direction. After that.... After that, if he could still find no rabbits, he would think again what to do.
The following evening found him sheltering in a hollow near another stand of beech trees, his wing aching and his spirits equally low. The hills had proved as empty of rabbits as if he had been searching out at sea. As night drew down, he fell to considering all that Hazel and Bigwig had told him about how they lived and where they lived. Although the rabbits seemed to prefer not to make their homes too close to Men, it was clear they also enjoyed the treats that could be found around farms and vegetable gardens. Kehaar had noticed the roofs of several Men-buildings at the bottom of the steep scarp as he had searched along it. Tomorrow, he would begin to investigate around each of them....
It was not the next day but early in the morning of the day after before he found some hope. Exploring a farm at the foot of the downs, not far as the gull flies from where Bigwig and the others were waiting for him, he caught—among the scent of cats and a dog—a whiff of rabbit that was not quite like the smell of the rabbits of the downs, yet was rabbit all the same.
Cautiously fluttering down into the yard, keeping an eye out to make sure another of those foul cats didn't get the jump on him again, he peered around. The strange rabbit-smell was faint, but it led him to a shed where, in the gloom, he saw at least two rabbits peering out through the wire mesh stretched across the open side of a wooden box.
He was just thinking about going inside the shed when he heard the sound of a door banging somewhere on the far side of the yard. The ground shook under him slightly in a regular pattern that spoke of two feet, not four. He hastily fluttered up to perch on a roof-ridge from where he could observe the shed.
The Man—or, rather, the Man-child, for he could tell it was quite short—went first to one of the other sheds before emerging with its hands full of a variety of green leaves and hay. It carried these over to the shed with the caged rabbits. Tilting his head, Kehaar saw that the Man-child was putting the leaves into the cage—as food, he supposed.
A voice called from one of the other buildings and the Man-child hastily fastened up the cage and hurried away.
Kehaar went on looking at the shed with the cage, wondering if he should go down and talk to the rabbits. Would they speak hedgerow and be able to understand him? Would it be worth the risk of being trapped by a cat? For, although they were the first rabbits he had seen since he left the warren on the hill above, there were surely not many of them and they were also Men-rabbits, not free rabbits like Bigwig and his friends.
He decided to carry on searching. He could always return if he had no better luck.
By the end of the day, he had investigated a further four farms and a small hamlet with no success. But there was still one direction to try: on the other side of the ridge, where the ground sloped away gently.
The next morning, as the larks went twittering up on the hills above, he made his breakfast at a rubbish heap outside a farm. Then, spreading his wings, which now troubled him only a little, he took flight. Climbing over the ridge, he headed south, toward the line of the iron road and whatever he might find there....
Fandom: Watership Down – Richard Adams
Rating: General
Contains: Nothing beyond canon
Words: 1220 words
Summary: "Now I fly for you." Kehaar sets out on his search for more rabbits. Written as a Yuletide treat for
wasuremono.Disclaimer: This story is based on the Richard Adams novel Watership Down. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended.
Author's Note: Thanks to Scribbler (
scribblesinink) for the beta.Kehaar scanned the ground below as he flew along the ridge. The grass stood stiff and motionless in the heat of the day and, at this height, the world over which he passed was silent, though from the direction in which the sun stood, he could hear the rattle and bang of one of those land-boats of Men that rushed across the countryside faster than a gull could fly.
Not for the first time that morning, he found himself unnerved by the stillness of the ground below and the air around him. He had to fight the urge to turn toward where he'd heard the train and fly over it and then on and on.... On until he found the ever-restless sea and could again hear the waves breaking against the shore and perhaps even meet with others of his kind.
No: he had promised the rabbits that he would fly for them, find them mates if he could, and he would honour that promise. He would have been finished, and quickly, without them nursing him through his injury. It was only right for him to help them in return.
The memory of Bigwig and the others fetching worms and beetle-rich sticks made him notice he was both hungry and a little tired. His wing was sound enough now, but he seemed to have lost some of the knack of effortlessly riding the air currents for hours.
A little way ahead, he saw one of those small copses, like the one near the rabbits' home, that in places hugged the slopes of the down just below the ridge. Gliding down, he landed just outside the spinney. Experience had taught him that there would be easy pickings in the open ground between the trees.
Twenty minutes later, he had sated his appetite and regathered his strength. Arching his wings wide, he lumbered back up into the sky.
By the time he landed again, he was beginning to wonder if this quest was as useless as sitting on an empty nest. It seemed as if the rabbits he had left behind were the only ones living in these hills: there had been no sign of any creature in the grass below larger than a field-mouse. Of course, that might be because most sensible creatures were drowsing as the day's heat reached its zenith. The rabbits, he knew, preferred to feed and play at dusk and dawn. Yet he was troubled that he had yet to spot any of the tell-tale trails of worn and flattened turf that made Bigwig's home so obvious to him from the air.
Settling into the grass, resting his tired muscles, he pondered the task he had set himself. It had seemed so simple when Bigwig had explained the rabbits' predicament a few days ago, something that could be accomplished quickly. Yet now he wondered: how far should he go before he turned back? The hills stretched for miles in either direction, toward where the sun rose and where it set, but the rabbits could not run as swiftly as he could fly. A journey that might take him a day or two could take them weeks and it would be little use to his friends if any rabbits he found were out of reach.
He decided to fly on slowly in the same direction until the sun set. Then, at first light, he would return quickly over the ground he had already covered and on past the warren, before slowly scanning the ridge for a day's flight in the other direction. After that.... After that, if he could still find no rabbits, he would think again what to do.
The following evening found him sheltering in a hollow near another stand of beech trees, his wing aching and his spirits equally low. The hills had proved as empty of rabbits as if he had been searching out at sea. As night drew down, he fell to considering all that Hazel and Bigwig had told him about how they lived and where they lived. Although the rabbits seemed to prefer not to make their homes too close to Men, it was clear they also enjoyed the treats that could be found around farms and vegetable gardens. Kehaar had noticed the roofs of several Men-buildings at the bottom of the steep scarp as he had searched along it. Tomorrow, he would begin to investigate around each of them....
It was not the next day but early in the morning of the day after before he found some hope. Exploring a farm at the foot of the downs, not far as the gull flies from where Bigwig and the others were waiting for him, he caught—among the scent of cats and a dog—a whiff of rabbit that was not quite like the smell of the rabbits of the downs, yet was rabbit all the same.
Cautiously fluttering down into the yard, keeping an eye out to make sure another of those foul cats didn't get the jump on him again, he peered around. The strange rabbit-smell was faint, but it led him to a shed where, in the gloom, he saw at least two rabbits peering out through the wire mesh stretched across the open side of a wooden box.
He was just thinking about going inside the shed when he heard the sound of a door banging somewhere on the far side of the yard. The ground shook under him slightly in a regular pattern that spoke of two feet, not four. He hastily fluttered up to perch on a roof-ridge from where he could observe the shed.
The Man—or, rather, the Man-child, for he could tell it was quite short—went first to one of the other sheds before emerging with its hands full of a variety of green leaves and hay. It carried these over to the shed with the caged rabbits. Tilting his head, Kehaar saw that the Man-child was putting the leaves into the cage—as food, he supposed.
A voice called from one of the other buildings and the Man-child hastily fastened up the cage and hurried away.
Kehaar went on looking at the shed with the cage, wondering if he should go down and talk to the rabbits. Would they speak hedgerow and be able to understand him? Would it be worth the risk of being trapped by a cat? For, although they were the first rabbits he had seen since he left the warren on the hill above, there were surely not many of them and they were also Men-rabbits, not free rabbits like Bigwig and his friends.
He decided to carry on searching. He could always return if he had no better luck.
By the end of the day, he had investigated a further four farms and a small hamlet with no success. But there was still one direction to try: on the other side of the ridge, where the ground sloped away gently.
The next morning, as the larks went twittering up on the hills above, he made his breakfast at a rubbish heap outside a farm. Then, spreading his wings, which now troubled him only a little, he took flight. Climbing over the ridge, he headed south, toward the line of the iron road and whatever he might find there....