‘We took them when no one was looking,’ said Sam, a little note of secret triumph in his voice for this had been his idea.
They all followed Nab back up the old wooden stairs and over to where Beth was lying in her nest of hay.
‘Cover her over to keep her warm,’ said Warrigal, and they pulled folds of the hay out of the surrounding bales and laid them on top of her so that only her face showed and, around it like a pool of gold, her tangled hair.
‘All we can do now is wait and hope she gets back to normal,’ said Warrigal. ‘I’ll go and perch in that open window at the far end to keep a look out,’ and he flew off in the narrow space between the top of the hay and the roof.
‘I’ll go and keep watch at the bottom,' said Sam, and he limped back over the hay and made his way slowly down the stairs, which were open-backed, a bit slippery and rather awkward.
Brock curled up against the girl on top of the hay and was soon asleep while Perryfoot nestled up against Brock’s deep fur where he too was soon lost in oblivion, his nose twitching and his leg occasionally jerking as he dreamt. Nab sat, feeling strangely at peace. The smell of the hay barn was new to him; he had smelt hay faintly on the wind before as it had been drying in the hot summer sun on the fields down by the stream but they had never made hay in any of the fields near Silver Wood. Now he found himself almost overpowered by its sweet, almost sickly scent. There was not a sound that could penetrate here either and the unreal stillness contributed to his sense of being in a different world. And it was warm. If warmth was what she needed then she should soon be better. He looked down at her face and wallowed in the luxury of being able to really look at every part of it closely and for as long as he wanted. He became absorbed in the delicacy of her features; her mouth, her hose, her chin, every aspect of her face entranced him. Suddenly he was overwhelmed by a desire to kiss her; it seemed the only way in which he could express all the tangled emotions towards her which he felt. Slowly he bent his face over hers and in his gentle kiss all the warmth, compassion and love he had seemed to flow out and fill her with new strength and energy. As he drew his face away Nab saw her eyelids flicker and then to his joy they opened and she looked at him and smiled.
Beth found it hard to focus at first and she had difficulty for a second or two in appreciating where she was. The last thing she could remember was waking up feeling faint in a deep green hollow; now here she was in a hay loft. Oh and it was so beautifully warm! The warmth under the hay brought life hack to every part of her body and she closed her eyes again for a second or two to bathe in the luxury of it. Then she vaguely recalled Nab’s kiss and looking at him she reached her hand out from under the hay and grasped his where it lay by her side. She felt peaceful, content and happy. They stayed like that for a long time; looking deep into each other’s eyes with their hands squeezed tightly together. Nab’s other hand gently stroked her cheek and straightened her hair where it lay spread out in its tousled fan under her head. Only the grunts and snuffles of Perryfoot and Brock as they slept broke the stillness of the loft. The only light came from the little window at the far end where a fitful moon threw the occasional shaft of silver on to the hay and silhouetted Warrigal where he stood on the sill looking out into the night. Finally the warmth and their exhaustion spread over them and they both fell asleep with Nab curled up in a ball by her side.
When they awoke next morning Beth felt a lot better and the colour had returned to her face. Nab showed her the eggs and she forced herself to eat them raw; breaking the shells carefully and then pouring the contents quickly down her throat. They would do her good anyway, she thought and indeed as the day progressed she grew stronger. In the afternoon Sam and Warrigal fetched three more and, later, three more for the evening. It poured with rain all day, pattering down on the roof and dripping off the eaves. In the morning Beth and Nab went over to the window where Warrigal had kept lookout and they stared out at the sheets of rain as they bucketed down from the heavens and swept across the green fields and valleys, filling the rivers and streams and saturating the ground. There was something very comforting and cosy about watching the rain from inside; Beth had loved to look out through her bedroom window at home when storms broke, and it reminded Nab of the times he had stared out from his rhododendron bush in Silver Wood. As they sat together by the window Beth decided that she would begin trying to teach Nab her language and perhaps she could learn his. Now would be a good opportunity to start when there was nothing else to think about and there were no distractions. She pointed outside and then cupped her hand under a drip from the eaves. ‘Rain,’ she said and then pointed to Nab’s mouth hoping he would understand that she wanted him to repeat it. He did so slowly and carefully and then she pointed to him to tell her his word for it. Nab quickly understood what she wanted. ‘Ashgaroth ẙ Draish,’ he said. To Beth it sounded like a lot of squeaks and grunts for there are no alphabets and letters as the Urkku know them; only sounds. Nevertheless, difficult though it was, she attempted to copy the noises made by Nab and her attempt sent him into a fit of laughter which was so infectious that she too began to laugh. Then she tried again and Nab nodded and smiled to show that she was nearer.
After this she taught the boy her name which he found easy to say and he taught her his which, because it was short and only consisted of one sound, she found relatively simple. They went on like this for most of the rest of the afternoon, pointing to or touching things around them. Generally Nab found it easier to learn her words than she did to repeat his, and she found his even more difficult to remember, if not virtually impossible. Still she made up her mind to persevere; at least they had made a start and she was surprised at how quickly and easily Nab had taken to human speech.
When evening came the skies began to clear and the rain finally stopped. Warrigal flew down from the rafter where he had perched, sleeping all day, and spoke to Nab.
‘We should be making a move,’ he said. ‘How is she, d6 you think?’ /
‘Much better,’ Nab replied. ‘I’ll try and indicate to her what we think and ask if she’s ready.’
He did so; pointing outside and then to all the animals and then outside again. Beth understood. She nodded her head to show him that she thought she was all right now although she would really have liked another night in the barn. Still, she definitely felt much improved and since the night was clear it was probably as good a time as any to start out again. The three of them went back to where Perryfoot and Brock were still sleeping, roused them and then, after Beth had carefully put the three remaining eggs in an inside pocket of her cape, they went down the stairs, with the hare once more in his sling, and, fetching Sam who had been lying on the bottom step, squeezed through the partly open door and went out into the night.