"I'm going now" He said. "I feel very sad. I'd like to wish you well, Hazel, But there's no good to wish you in this place. So just good bye."

"But ware are you going to go Fiver?"

"Away, to the hills, if I can get there."

"By yourself? Alone? You'd die!"

"You wouldn't have a hope old chap." said Bigwig.
"Somthing would get you before ni-Frith."

"no," Said Fiver very quietly. "You are closer to death than I."

***

Bigwig turned and dashed back through the nearest gap in the hedge. On the instant, a fearfull commotion began on the other side. There were sounds of kicking and plunging. A stick flwe into the air. Then a flat, wet clot of dead leaves shot clean through the gap and landed clear of the hedge, close to Hazel. The brambles thrashed up and down. Hazel and Fiver stared at each other, both fighting against the impulse to run. What enemy was at work on the other side of the hedge? There were no cries - no spitting of a cat, no squealing of a rabbit - only the crackling of twigs and the tearing of the grass in violence.

Hazel forced himself forward into the gap, with Fiver following. A terrable sight lay befor them. Bigwig was laying on his side, his back legs kicking and strugguling. A langth of twisted copper wire, gleaming dully in the first sunlight, was looped round his neck and ran taut across one for-paw to the head of a stout peg driven into the ground.

***

Watership down belongs to Richard Adams.