The Story of a Hare

by J. C. Tregarthen

[To face p. 32.
Author’s Sketch-map of the Scene of the Story.

And because the moment of separation was imminent, she led him and his sister that very night to the spot beloved above all others by the hares of the Land’s End, the dunes of Sennen and the long strand of Whitesand Bay. She took a bee-line from the Carn and, leading at a good pace, soon reached her destination, where the leverets, pleased by the feel of the sand under their pads, hopped and skipped like lambs, or like runners in an arena with dunes for spectators and waves to applaud, galloped after their fleet-footed mother with the speed of the wind. Their disappearance into the gloom and sudden reappearance made them seem quite uncanny on that uncanny foreshore, haunted, if tradition be true, by drowned sailors who hail one another across the beach. The surge beat on the shore, the swell boomed in the near caves, the breeze stirred the rushes tufting the dunes: except for these the hares were alone; but the light gleamed across the waters from the Longships, and near midnight the faint sweep of muffled oars told where the Preventive Patrol crossed the bay. The unusual noise caused the hares to cease their scamperings and look seaward. Yet danger was not there but at the foot of the dunes, where a half-wild cat crouched near the path by which they came and eagerly awaited their return. All unconscious of her presence the hares left the beach to play on the rocks at Genvor Head, now uncovered by the tide; there the jack, prompted by the adventurous spirit that was ever urging him to do “something grand,” made along the ledge towards the point over which the sea was dashing dangerously. Luckily his mother observed him and drove him back, despite the efforts he made to get past her. So he turned sulky and lagged behind her and his sister when presently they crossed the dunes for the feeding-ground. The cat, who had been a close observer of the scene on the rocks, and was not a little chagrined when two of the hares passed wide of her station, now fixed her attention on the jack, as his slow movements made her think he was wounded and might fall an easy prey. But again she was doomed to disappointment; for while she debated whether to rush at the leveret or stay where she was, the jack recovered his temper and went off at full speed over the dunes.

Graymalkin naturally thought she had seen the last of him. Leaving her hiding-place, she went and sat by the mouth of a rabbit-hole, to try to secure one of the occupants when it came out. She might have been there a quarter of an hour when to her surprise she saw the jack pass on his way to the beach. He was making straight for the rocks. Without a moment’s hesitation she followed, so quickly that when he reached the point of the rocks, she had gained the shore end and cut off his retreat. Yellow though she was, it is a wonder that he did not see her as she crossed the sand, but he did not; what first drew his attention was the mewing noise she made whilst creeping panther-like to the spot where the rocks contract to a narrow waist which the hare must pass. There she stopped. At sight of the hideous creature he realised the straits he was in, and in his terror backed involuntarily nearer and nearer to the edge; the sea as it surged over the rock reached half-way up his legs, the spray drenched him, but he seemed indifferent to it all. He looked thoroughly woebegone; he was surely doomed; if the sea did not get him, the cat would. Presently he stopped backing when only six inches from the edge and, pulling himself together, tried to think of a way of escape. But he found it difficult to think under the eyes of the brute crouching there. His best chance was to swim to Genvor Beach, but this never entered his head; the bewildered fellow was debating as best he could whether it was better to spring over the cat or dodge her. Had it not been for the bunch of seaweed at the very spot on which he would alight he would have tried the spring; but in the circumstances he decided to risk all on the zigzag ruse, at which he was an adept, having played it with his sister on the green. Like an arrow from a bow he shot forward as if he meant to pass to the right of the cat; as soon as his pads touched the rock, like lightning he swerved to the left; then he shot ahead again and so got away without a scratch. The cat, thoroughly outwitted, had sprung for the place where she had supposed the hare would be; but she sprang at the air and fell into the sea. Almost immediately a wave washed her on the rocks, and there she stood silent while, with eyes like living coals, she watched the jack disappear over the dunes.

The terrified fellow ran for two miles along his mother’s trail without halting; then coming to some briers he stopped to nibble the shoots, for he was very hungry. He would have stayed longer than he did had not the rosy foreglow in the sky warned him to be off. So again he took to the trail and hurried along at his best pace, scaring the boy at Brea Farm, who took him for a pixie, as he whisked past the gap on his way to the Fairies’ Green, where for an hour or more his mother and sister had been sitting in their forms. The magpies saw him coming, but chattered no reproach to the belated creature; though to a fox cub they would have shown no mercy. After he had made his toilet, enjoying the taste of the salt water, he sat moving his jaws as if he were chewing the cud. He was really crushing some grains of sand, of which he had picked up a mouthful on the beach, and the curious noise completely puzzled the magpies, who tried in vain to locate it. The dew was being fast dried up by the sun before it ceased: then the slow regular rise and fall of his flank told he was asleep.

That night the hare took the jack and his sister a way they had not been before. It led over Caer Bran to Boswarthen, where all three gambolled like mad things in the corn before going down the hill to Tregonebris. There, after feasting on the pinks in which the farmer’s wife took special pride, they passed to the field of mowing-grass before the house and played on the heap of earth in the far corner, the hare joining in the frolics with a zest she had not shown since she led them up Bartinney. By this time the air, which had been oppressively close, had become more sultry than ever, till towards midnight the impending storm broke, zigzagging the inky sky with fierce lightning. Immediately the silence was rent by claps of thunder, and a torrent of rain followed which drenched the hares before they could gain the shelter of the hedge. When at length it ceased they galloped up and down the path leading to the house and dried themselves; but they were drenched again before dawn. They looked a forlorn little band as they ambled over the fields in a downpour. Yet, miserable though their plight seemed, they passed a clump of brambles which at least offered a partial refuge; farther up the hill they passed another, more inviting still; indeed they kept on as if regardless of all cover till they reached the summit of Caer Bran, where they sought seats under the furze mantling the slope of the outer of the earthworks that crown it. The wind blew, the rain pelted, but the high bank and domed roof protected them from all discomfort save that caused by the drippings of the sodden bushes. This the creatures endured through the long day without once stirring in their forms.

The hare rose at her usual time, but instead of setting out forthwith as was her custom she went to where the jack lay and licked his face again and again, which she had not done since he was weaned. What was the meaning of this extraordinary display of affection? Was it to solace him for the severity of her schooling and growing coldness? Not at all. It was to mark the moment of separation; it was her last office to him; it was her farewell greeting. The jack understood; his behaviour showed it. For when presently his mother and sister set out, he, hitherto always the second afoot, remained in the form and watched them pass from sight. As the bushes hid them, he was on the point of rising to follow, but restrained himself and sat listening as if in expectation of the call. The low bleat for which he hearkened did not come; there was no sound but the moan of the wind about the old earthworks. Then the seriousness of the position came home to him: his mother and sister had gone out of his life; the freedom for which he had been yearning was at last his. Was he elated? Far from it. A sense of forlornness possessed him, but this was soon to be banished by the high spirits that surged through him and thrilled his whole being. Whilst he sat addressing himself to the struggle before him the sky suddenly cleared, and where all had been black, stars shone in the steadfast blue.

Then he arose, stretched his perfect limbs, and, after a glance along the trail, set his face for the farm-lands to which his mother had the previous night introduced him.

CHAPTER III

INDEPENDENCE

The leveret’s wonderful memory for country he had once been over enabled him to find his way straight back to the farm, where with timid steps he passed from enclosure to enclosure, exploring his domain. In his round he came on a field of clover, another of turnips, two of corn, pastures with sheep and cattle, and a pound with a donkey in it, familiar objects which served to make him forget his solitary condition till he came to the scene of the previous night’s frolics; then the thought of his mother and sister flashed across his mind: he became alive to his loneliness. But a voice within whispered, “Courage, courage, all will soon be well”; at this he took heart and strove to forget the past as he resumed his way, observant of everything and alert to the many dangers of the night.