In a short time one returned with his beak full, and they could hear the nestlings squeaking as he flew out of sight beneath their feet. The bank did not extend far in either direction. Upstream, it sloped down to a grassy path between the trees and the water. This followed the line of the river, which ran straight from almost as far away as they could see, flowing smoothly without fords, gravel shallows or plank bridges. Immediately below them lay a wide pool and here the water was almost still. Away to their left, the bank sloped down again into clumps of alder, among which the stream could be heard chattering over gravel. There was a glimpse of barbed wire stretched across the water and they guessed that this must surround a cattle wade, like the one in the little brook near the home warren.
Hazel looked at the path upstream. "There's grass down there," he said. "Let's go and feed."
They scrambled down the bank and set to nibbling beside the water. Between them and the stream itself stood half-grown clumps of purple loosestrife and fleabane, which would not flower for nearly two months yet. The only blooms were a few early meadowsweet and a patch of pink butterbur. Looking back at the face of the bank, they could see that it was in fact dotted thickly with martins' holes. There was a narrow foreshore at the foot of the little cliff and this was littered with the rubbish of the colony--sticks, droppings, feathers, a broken egg and a dead nestling or two. The martins were now coming and going in numbers over the water.
Hazel moved close to Fiver and quietly edged him away from the others, feeding as he went. When they were a little way off, and half concealed by a patch of reeds, he said, "Are you sure we've got to cross the river, Fiver? What about going along the bank one way or the other?"
"No, we need to cross the river, Hazel, so that we can get into those fields--and on beyond them too. I know what we ought to be looking for--a high, lonely place with dry soil, where rabbits can see and hear all round and men hardly ever come. Wouldn't that be worth a journey?"
"Yes, of course it would. But is there such a place?"
"Not near a river--I needn't tell you that. But if you cross a river you start going up again, don't you? We ought to be on the top--on the top and in the open."
"But, Fiver, I think they may refuse to go much further. And then again, you say all this and yet you say you're too tired to swim?"
"I can rest, Hazel, but Pipkin's in a pretty bad way. I think he's injured. We may have to stay here half the day."
"Well, let's go and talk to the others. They may not mind staying. It's crossing they're not going to fancy, unless something frightens them into it."
As soon as they had made their way back, Bigwig came across to them from the bushes at the edge of the path.
"I was wondering where you'd got to," he said to Hazel. "Are you ready to move on?"
"No, I'm not," answered Hazel firmly. "I think we ought to stay here until ni-Frith. That'll give everyone a chance to rest and then we can swim across to those fields."
Bigwig was about to reply, but Blackberry spoke first.
"Bigwig," he said, "why don't you swim over now, and then go out into the field and have a look round? The wood may not stretch very far one way or the other. You could see from there; and then we might know which would be the best way to go."
"Oh, well," said Bigwig rather grudgingly, "I suppose there's some sense in that. I'll swim the embleer* river as many times as you like. Always glad to oblige."
Without the slightest hesitation, he took two hops to the water, waded in and swam across the deep, still pool. They watched him pull himself out beside a flowering clump of figwort, gripping one of the tough stems