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There were the Fire People, many of them, looking at us and pointing at us, and more were crawling out of the caves. We sat up to watch, and forgot all about paddling. There was a great hullabaloo on the shore. Some of the Fire-Men discharged their bows at us, and a few of the arrows fell near us, but the range was too great. It was a great day for Lop-Ear and me.
For your convenience, since this is to be no sociological screed, I shall frame together the different events into a comprehensive story. For there is a certain thread of continuity and happening that runs through all the dreams. There is my friendship with Lop-Ear, for instance. Also, there is the enmity of Red-Eye, and the love of the Swift One.
"Lop-ears," said Nestie after a moment's silence, and Speug was more confounded than he had ever been in all his blameless life. "Ernest Molyneux, div ye kin whar ye 'ill go to if ye tell lees." "I'm telling the t-truth, Speug, and I never tell lies, but sometimes I compose t-tales. Lop-ear rabbits, and he feeds them himself."
But Red-Eye walked rough-shod over all our customs, and we so feared him that we were incapable of the collective action necessary to punish him. It was during the sixth winter in our cave that Lop-Ear and I discovered that we were really growing up. From the first it had been a squeeze to get in through the entrance-crevice. This had had its advantages, however.
But they quickly left me alone, being replaced by a dozen curious and teasing youngsters. They formed a circle around me, pointing their fingers, making faces, and poking and pinching me. I was frightened, and for a time I endured them, then anger got the best of me and I sprang tooth and nail upon the most audacious one of them none other than Lop-Ear himself.
We did not know it was our river there was no way of telling; and if we had never crossed it we would most probably have never returned to the horde; and I, the modern, the thousand centuries yet to be born, would never have been born. And yet Lop-Ear and I wanted greatly to return.
It lived in perpetual apprehension of that quarter of the compass. And every individual gazed more frequently and with greater alarm in that direction than in any other. When Lop-Ear and I went toward the north-east to eat the stringy-rooted carrots that at that season were at their best, he became unusually timid.
I must have shied at it as a horse shies at an object it fears. Lop-Ear took a smashing fall as he ran beside me. An arrow had driven through the calf of his leg and tripped him. He tried to run, but was tripped and thrown by it a second time. He sat up, crouching, trembling with fear, and called to me pleadingly. I dashed back. He showed me the arrow.
I have endeavoured to find a case which would not be open to the above criticism that is, to find a character which could be considered somatogenic and which was absent in a closely allied variety. Most of the characters in domesticated varieties are obviously gametogenic mutations, but the lop-ear in rabbits may be, partly at least, somatogenic.
It connected by a narrow crevice with another cave, and it was through this that we regained the open air. We were now good friends. When the other young ones gathered around to tease, he joined with me in attacking them; and so viciously did we behave that before long I was let alone. Lop-Ear made me acquainted with the village.
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