CHAPTER VIII.
WALK ON THE HILLSIDE—TAME AND WILD RABBITS—RETURN HOME.
SOON after dinner grandmamma went with the children to the pretty green field which sloped down to the white rocks.
‘What is that little white thing,’ asked Beatrice, ‘up there, grandmamma? Look, please—it moves, it runs, it is alive!’
‘And there, too, and there!’ cried Alice; ‘how many little animals! What can they be?’
Grandmamma looked too, and said, ‘They are rabbits, little white rabbits.’
‘Rabbits!’ said Alice; ‘I thought that rabbits were brown.’
‘Yes, so they are, my dear, that is the wild rabbits are brown; but tame rabbits are of different colours, some white, some black, or grey, or spotted. I do not know how these tame rabbits came here.’
‘May we go nearer and look at them?’ both the children asked; and they went much nearer, and they saw a great number of white rabbits running about in a green field higher up the hill than the one they were walking in. The children liked to look at these rabbits running about and playing with each other.
‘Why are these white rabbits called tame?’ asked Alice.
‘Tame animals are those that are taken care of and fed. For, as these pretty white or black rabbits are not so strong as the brown ones, they are usually kept in little houses, and fed with cabbage leaves and other food, because the cold in winter might kill them. In Devonshire the winter is not very cold; so I suppose that these rabbits do not suffer from it, and that they have learnt to make themselves warm houses in the earth, as the wild rabbits do.’
‘Will you tell us, grandmamma, how the wild rabbits make themselves houses in the ground?’
‘They make or burrow holes in the ground, digging out the earth with their feet, as you must have seen a dog scratching and digging with his feet. But the rabbits dig long passages under the earth, and often near or under a tree. I have read that the rabbits first dig down straight till the hole is deep, and that then they make a passage, and sometimes turn upwards again, or make it crooked, to prevent dogs finding them and killing them.
‘Rabbits live together in great numbers, and it is called a warren. They like a sandy or gravelly soil to burrow in, and make the entrance to the little house often under a furze bush that it may not be seen. Sometimes they loosen the roots of trees so much that the trees fall; and where there are many rabbits in a warren, the ground is very unsafe, for if any one was riding, the horse’s foot might go through, and he would fall, and perhaps break his leg and throw his rider. Even in walking you might stumble, by getting your foot into a rabbit hole, which is not easily seen. I have heard, too, that rabbits have undermined walls and buildings, and made them unsafe.’
‘What is undermined, grandmamma?’
‘It means making a hole or mine under the ground; and when these holes are made in soft sand or gravel beneath a heavy wall, it will fall into the hole.’
‘Will you tell us what the wild rabbit eats?’
‘It eats nearly everything it can get; but it is very fond of all our vegetables, and would soon spoil our gardens if it came into them. The wild rabbit lives in the fields and meadows and woods, and eats the young buds of the bushes and young trees; it likes especially the tender roots of the furze bushes, and it nibbles the soft bark of the trees, and spoils a great number of them. There are also many plants and roots that it lives on.’
The children then asked to go to the end of the field, and look down on to the sea beneath; and they all went on walking till they came to the edge of the field. The two little girls called out with pleasure and surprise, for they saw beyond and below them a number of large rocks, which looked like great towers, close to the steep cliff, on the edge of which they were now standing.
Some of these rocks were slender and pointed, and sharp on the top, and many were strangely shaped, and lay scattered about; but one tall piece of rock stood out alone, nearly in the sea, as if it had been cut off the cliff, and on the top was perched a sea-gull.
‘Oh, grandmamma, look at that sea-gull!’ cried Alice; ‘how can it stand on the point of that high rock?’
‘The sea-gull need not be afraid of standing there,’ said grandmamma, ‘for if its foot should slip, its wings would keep it from falling; and should it even fall, which is not likely, it would not be drowned, for the sea-gull swims well on a stormy sea.’
‘How wonderful it is that it can swim and fly so well!’ said Alice. ‘It can fly much better than a goose or a duck, and they can swim and fly a little.’
‘God, in His great mercy, has made the wild bird fly and swim much better than the tame bird. The sea-gull provides its own food by diving into the waves and catching fish, and it flies about in stormy weather and swims on the wild waves. Man, or people, take care of the duck and goose, and feed it, so it does not want to fly far, or swim on rough seas.’
‘How very wonderful it is!’ said Alice; and little Beatrice listened attentively, although she could not understand it all.
‘God’s wisdom is always wonderful, my child, and God’s love is very great. As God provides for the sea-gull and for all animals, and gives them all their food, and takes care of them all, so God takes care of us all, and gives us food and clothes, and everything that we want. God, as you know, gives us summer and winter, sunshine and snow and rain, and all for our good. God has made the earth beautiful, the grass green, the flowers gay, the sea wide, and the heavens high; and we must never forget to thank God for everything, and for His care of us by day and by night.’
They sat down on the edge of the cliff and rested, and looked at the beautiful sight before them; and when they had seen the sea-gull spread its wide wings and fly over the sea, and they had watched it till they could see it no longer, they turned back to the farm-house. There they found Mary had put everything ready, and Bartlett was waiting.
Grandmamma thanked the farmer’s wife, and she and the children bade her good-bye; and after grandmamma had asked Mary if she had given the sailors a good dinner, and Mary had answered that she had, they all went down the side of the hill to the shore, where little Jack and the other sailor were waiting by the side of the boat.
They all stepped into the boat, and were pushed off, and after a little rocking to and fro, which no longer frightened the children, two sails were hoisted, and as there was more wind now, the boat went much quicker.
Soon the little girls said, ‘How cold it is!’ for the wind blew strong; and Mary put their cloaks about them, and little Beatrice crept on to her grandmamma’s lap, and soon fell asleep, for she was very tired.
Alice sat between her grandmamma and Mary, and talked the whole way. She had so many things to ask about; and she made Bartlett tell her about his little girls at home, who had no mother.
The sailor told Alice that his eldest girl kept his house clean and neat, and cooked the dinner, and looked after the little ones.
‘Do your little boys and girls go to school, Bartlett?’ asked Alice.
‘Yes, miss, they all go; and it is a very nice school. They learn to read and write very nicely, and the little girls learn to sew.’
‘Can Jack swim, Bartlett?’ she asked again.
‘No, not yet, for I have not much time to teach him.’
‘Not yet! Why, Jack is older than I am, and grandmamma says that I must learn to swim next summer.’
‘But, dear Alice, how can Jack learn to swim if his father has not the time to teach him?’
‘Bartlett, you will teach Jack to swim when you have time, will you not? Grandmamma says that if people do not learn to swim, when they fall into the water by accident, they will be drowned.’
The sailor promised the little girl that he would make Jack swim very soon.
As the boat sailed past the high red cliffs before they reached home, Alice spied a man and an ass on a narrow piece of rock some way down the steep side of the high cliff, and asked the sailor how and why the man had taken his donkey to such a place.
‘It must be so dangerous. Look, Bartlett how they are going along, they must fall!’ and Alice looked quite uneasy and frightened.
But Bartlett soon explained to her that some poor people made gardens on tiny plots of ground among the ledges of the steep cliff, and planted them with potatoes; and as these little strips of ground slope towards the noon-day sun, and are protected from the cold north winds by the rising cliff, these people have potatoes earlier than any one else. He told her that by setting their potatoes in September or October, the potatoes were ready in early spring, and were often sent to London and sold for a great deal of money.
The sailor told the little girl that nothing but a donkey was sure-footed enough to carry down the baskets of manure for these little gardens, and to bring up the potatoes; that no horse could tread safe where these asses walk firmly and steadily, choosing their own paths. ‘As you see, Miss Alice, that donkey is going on alone with his load, and the man is following him as he best can; and the man knows that it is safest to walk where his ass has gone already.’
‘How clever donkeys must be, grandmamma!’ said Alice. ‘I thought that donkeys were always stupid. But how can it know where it is safe to walk?’
‘By instinct, dear child. Instinct is a knowledge which comes of itself, and is given to animals by God. Another time I will tell you about it.’
Bartlett began to pull down the sails, and called to Jack to steer for the land, as they were now close to their own shore. Little Beatrice woke up in time to see how some very large waves lifted the boat, and brought it up high on the shingle. The sailors jumped out, and helped first the children and then grandmamma and Mary out of the boat. Before they went up the steps from the shore, they thanked Bartlett and bade him and Jack ‘good-bye.’
