through.”
“Yet through I must go,” said El-ahrairah.
He could see now that the edge of the wood was thick with thorns and briers, tangled and twisted so that nothing bigger than a beetle could possibly get through. Only where the cow sat was there a gap, which she filled entirely. Perhaps, he thought, she would be bound to move, yet it would be useless to ask her to do so, for had she not said there was no way?
Night fell, and the cow had not moved. In the morning she was still there in the same place, and El-ahrairah knew then that it must be a cow of sorcery, for it seemed to feel no need to graze or to drink. He perceived that he would have to resort to a trick. He got up, still watched by the cow, and wandered slowly away down the length of the outskirts until at last he came to a place where the mass of trees and brambles curved inward. He had hoped for a corner of the wood, where he might try to go round it, but as far as he could see, there was none. He made his way some distance into the curve, came out running and hurried back to the cow.
“Are you sure that no one goes into your wood, mother?” he asked.
“No one enters the wood,” answered the cow. “It is sacred to Lord Frith and enchanted by sunlight and moonlight.”
“Well, I don’t know about sunlight and moonlight,” said El-ahrairah. “But round that curving bit, there are two badgers who evidently mean to get in. They’re digging like fury, and it won’t take them long.”
“They have no chance,” replied the cow. “The enchantment is too strong. Nevertheless, I had better go and stop them.” She clambered up and went lumbering away.
As soon as she had rounded the corner by the curve, El-ahrairah lost not a moment, but dashed through the open gap and found himself in the strange light of the wood.
It was not like any wood he had ever known. To startwith, it was full of odd sounds: Frightening sounds, which might have come from the trees or might have been made by animals; though what animals he could not tell. Furthermore, he could not find a single track or path. Sometimes he thought he could smell and hear water, but when he tried to go toward it he became confused. To go through the wood was something he had supposed would be easy to a rabbit of his knowledge and experience, but soon he found it was otherwise and that he was wandering in circles. He also felt sure that despite the noises, there was not a bird or any other living creature throughout the length and breadth he covered.
For four days and more—for hrair days—El-ahrairah wandered starving in that terrible wood, for there was no grass there. More than once he would have gone back, but he no more knew the way back than the way on. At last, one day, he came to a steep slope in the solitude, and at the foot of the slope ran a little stream, all overgrown. He determined to follow that stream, for sooner or later it must, he felt sure, run out of the wood, though on which side he could not tell.
He followed the stream for two days and became so faint that he could go no further. He sank down and fell asleep, and when he woke could see that lower down the course of the stream there was a faint glow of brighter light. He stumbled toward it and at last came to a marshy place, where the water ran out of the wood into a smooth, green meadow stretching away as far as he could see. The grasswas the best he had ever eaten and full of cowslips. He ate all he wanted, found a hole in a bank and slept for a full day and night.
When he woke he began to wander across the great meadow. It was full of flowers: buttercups and moon daisies, tormentil and orchid and salad burnet. His energy returned, and he began to wonder which way he ought now to take in his strange journey. As he rested on a bank where clumps of scented valerian were growing, he was startled to see once again his friend the yellowhammer, flitting about in the hedge.
“El-ahrairah! El-ahrairah!” [sang the