Watership Down (Written by Richard Adams) 1972

Richard Adams was an English novelist who was commissioned into the Royal Army Service Corps in July 1940 and served as a Captain. His wartime experiences heavily influenced the military tactics, leadership styles, and camaraderie depicted in his iconic novel.

The journey led by Hazel is driven by military-style strategy, utilizing scouts, flank security, and coordinated defenses. Characters like the thoughtful, respected Captain Holly were partially inspired by Adams' own commanding officers.

Watership Down is a compelling tale of adventure that evokes epic themes such as the hero's journey through Hazel's answering of Fiver's call to action, the refusal of the Owsla, and the crossing of the first threshold when they leave Sandelford Warren and the safety of the known world. It is also reminiscent of an exodus when the rabbits escape the destruction of their warren and journey in search of new homeland and an odyssey when they encounter perils along the their journey home.

The rabbits have crafted an intricate, deeply ingrained society complete with their own rich mythology, culture, religious hierarchy, and creation story:

"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... Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed."

"Hazel. Oh, I go by many names but your people know me as the Black Rabbit. All walk with me, Hazel. It is but for a brief moment called life that you leave my side. Oh, there is no more to fear in death than in the changing of the seasons. If you keep this in your heart, Hazel, you will become a truly great leader of rabbits. One worthy of joining my Owsla."

"Fiver, what's that? Look!"

A little way in front of them, the ground had been freshly disturbed. Two piles of earth lay on the grass. Heavy posts, reeking of creosote and paint, towered up as high as the holly trees in the hedge, and the board they carried threw a long shadow across the top of the field. Near one of the posts, a hammer and a few nails had been left behind.

When Frith saw that, he called out, 'My friend, have you seen El-ahrairah, for I am looking for him to give him my gift?'

'No,' answered El-ahrairah, without coming out, 'I have not seen him. He is far away. He could not come.'

So Frith said, 'Then come out of that hole and I will bless you instead of him.'

'No, I cannot,' said El-ahrairah, 'I am busy. The fox and the weasel are coming. If you want to bless me you can bless my bottom, for it is sticking out of the hole.' "

Hazel watched them as they went in. Dandelion swam as well as he ran, swiftly and easily. Silver, too, was strong. The others paddled and scrambled over somehow, and as they began to reach the other side, Hazel plunged. The cold water penetrated his fur almost at once.

His breath came short and as his head went under he could hear a faint grating of gravel along the bottom. He paddled across awkwardly, his head tilted high out of the water, and made for the figwort. As he pulled himself out, he looked round among the sopping rabbits in the alders.

They became widely separated as they straggled up the slope. Silver and Bigwig led the way, with Hazel and Buckthorn a short distance behind. The rest idled along, hopping a few yards and then pausing to nibble or to pass droppings on the warm, sunny grass.

Silver was almost at the crest when suddenly, from halfway up, there came a high screaming--the sound a rabbit makes, not to call for help or to frighten an enemy, but simply out of terror.

Fiver and Pipkin, limping behind the others, and conspicuously undersized and tired, were being attacked by the crow.

By moonrise they had made their way through Newtown churchyard, where a little brook runs between the lawns and under the path. Wanderin on, they climbed a hill and came to Newtown Common--a country of peat, gorse and silver birch. After the meadows they had left, this was a strange, forbidding land.

Trees, herbage, even the soil--all were unfamiliar. They hesitated among the thick heather, unable to see more than a few feet ahead. Their fur became soaked with the dew. The ground was broken by rifts and pits of naked black peat, where water lay and sharp white stones, some as big as a pigeon's, some as a rabbit's skull, glimmered in the moonlight.

Hazel crouched down by Blackberry and laid his nostrils close to Bigwig's, but a light breeze was blowing and he could not tell whether there was breath or not. The legs were loose, the belly flaccid and limp.

He tried to think of what little he had heard of snares. A strong rabbit could break his neck in a snare. Or had the point of the sharp wire pierced the windpipe? "Bigwig," he whispered, "we've got you out. You're free." Bigwig did not stir.

They were on top of the down. Perched above the grass, they could see far in every direction. Their surroundings were empty. If anything had been moving they would have seen it immediately: and where the turf ended, the sky began.

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!"

"He may have made it, but Fiver thought of it for us," answered Hazel.

Soon it grew dark. Only the faintest light came through the tangled summer growth above them. The far end of the ditch was so much overgrown that they could not see out of it, but the place where they had come in showed as a patch of sky--an arc of very dark blue.

As the time passed, a star crept out from among the overhanging grasses. It seemed to pulsate in a rhythm as faint and uneven as that of the wind. At length Hazel turned his eyes away from watching it.

"You hurt? You no fly?" The answer was a harsh gabbling which they all felt immediately to be exotic. Wherever the bird came from, it was somewhere far away. The accent was strange and guttural, the speech distorted. They could catch only a word here and there.

"Come keel--kah! kah!--you come keel--yark!--t'ink me finish--me no finish--'urt you damn plenty--"

"I believe it's starving," said Hazel. "We'd better feed it. Bigwig, go and get some worms or something, there's a good fellow."

Nuthanger is like a farm in an old tale. Between Ecchinswell and the foot of Watership Down and about half a mile from each, there is a broad knoll, steeper on the north side but falling gently on the south--like the down ridge itself. Narrow lanes climb both slopes and come together in a great ring of elm trees which encircles the flat summit. Any wind--even the lightest--draws from the height of the elms a rushing sound, multifoliate and powerful.

"They've shot Hazel," he said. "They'd caught that Laurel and put him back in the hutch. Then they came after us. The three of us were at the end of a blocked ditch. Hazel went out of his own accord, to distract their attention while we got away. But we didn't know they had a gun."

When Blackberry had told his news, Fiver returned to the warren and went underground to his empty burrow. A little later Bigwig brought the hutch rabbits up the hill and at once called everyone to meet in the Honeycomb. Fiver did not appear.

It was a dismal welcome for the strangers. Not even Bluebell could find a cheerful word. Dandelion was inconsolable to think that he might have stopped Hazel breaking from the ditch. The meeting came to an end in a dreary silence and a half-hearted silflay.

"Captain Campion took us down to a hole in the ditch. The mouth of the hole was a bit of old earthenware pipe and if a man had pulled it out, the opening would have fallen in and showed no trace of the run inside. We were taken to a big burrow and told to make ourselves at home. There were other rabbits in the burrow... We
got talking to some of the does and I made friends with one called Hyzenthlay."

They were on the opposite side of the hedge of plants along the bank and the whole river looked different. But now they saw, not far ahead, the bridge which they had crossed when they first came to the Test four nights before. This they recognized at once, for it looked the same as it had from the bank.

As things turned out, Hazel stayed three days at the foot of the hill. The hot weather continued and for much of the time he sat under the elder branches, dozing above ground like some solitary hlessi and feeling his strength returning.

Holly had already come down the hill on the previous day to see Hazel and tell again the story of his escape from Efrafa. When he had spoken of his deliverance by the great apparition in the night, Fiver had listened attentively.

Kehaar went on pecking at the broken pieces of stale bread. Blackberry, who had finished the fragments of lettuce he had found, was sitting up and looking over the very low side, watching a stone-colored, black-spotted trout swim up into the fall.

The "boat" was a miniature punt, used for reed-cutting--little more than a raft, with a single thwart amidships. Even when it was unmanned, as now, there were only a few inches of freeboard.

As he came to the end of his story, Dandelion remembered that he was supposed to be relieving Acorn as sentry. The post was a little way away, near the eastern corner of the wood, and Hazel--who wanted to see how Boxwood and Speedwell were getting on with a hole they were digging--went with Dandelion along the foot of the bank.

He was just going down the new hole when he noticed that some small creature was pattering about in the grass. It was the mouse that he had saved from the kestrel. Pleased to see that he was still safe and sound, Hazel turned back to have a word with him. The mouse recognized him and sat up, washing his face with his front paws and chattering effusively.

His claws found Woundwort's leg, ripping sideways; but before he could draw back, Woundwort's whole weight came down on him and the next moment his teeth had met in his right ear. Bigwig squealed, pressed down and thrashing from side to side. Woundwort, feeling his enemy's fear and helplessness, loosed his hold of the ear and rose above him, ready to bite and tear him across the back of the neck.

When Hazel stamped, Dandelion leaped instinctively from the grass verge. If there had been a hole he would have made for it. For the briefest instant he looked up and down the gravel. Then the dog was rushing upon him and he turned and made for the raised barn.

But before he reached it he realized that he must not take refuge under the floor. If he did, the dog would check: very likely a man would call it back. He had to get it out of the farmyard and down to the road. He altered direction and raced up the lane toward the elms. He had not expected the dog to be so close behind him. He could hear its breath and the loose gravel flying under its paws.

It was a long time coming; and when at last it pushed its way between the gatepost and the bank into the field, it paid him no attention. It nosed along the foot of the bank, put up a partridge and bounced after it and then began to scratch about in a clump of dock plants. For some time Blackberry felt too terrified to move.

He raised his head and said, "Do you want to talk to me?"

"Yes, that's what I've come for," replied the other. "You know me, don't you?"

"You needn't worry about them," said his companion. "They'll be all right--and thousands like them. If you'll come along, I'll show you what I mean."

He reached the top of the bank in a single, powerful leap. Hazel followed; and together they slipped away, running easily down through the wood, where the first primroses were beginning to bloom.