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I crawled quietly up the slope； the grass sliding under my chest and belly； my legs straining to propel my bulk up and forward。 I was down…wind； of course； and the breeze was stiff enough to cover most small noises。 As far as I could see； there were no rabbit sentries on the hill。 I stopped about two metres down from the summit and quietly cocked the gun； inspecting the posite steel and nylon pellet before placing it in the chamber and snicking the gun closed。 I closed my eyes and thought about the trapped； pressed spring and the little slug sitting at the shiny bottom of the rifled tube。 Then I crawled to the top of the hill。
At first I thought I would have to wait。 The Grounds looked empty in the afternoon light； and only the grass moved in the wind。 I could see the holes and the little piles and scatters of droppings； and I could see the gorse bushes on the far slope above the bank which held most of the holes； where the rabbit…runs snaked tiny paths like jagged tunnels through the bushes； but there was no sign of the animals themselves。 It was in those rabbit…runs through the gorse that some of the local boys used to set snares。 I found the wire loops； though； having seen the boys set them； and I tore them out or put them under the grass on the paths the boys used to take when they came to inspect their traps。 Whether any of them was tripped up by his own snare or not I don't know； but I'd like to think they did go sprawling head first。 Anyway； they or their replacements don't set snares any more； I suppose it has gone out of fashion and they are out spraying slogans on walls； sniffing glue or trying to get laid。
Animals rarely surprise me but there was something about the buck； once I noticed it sitting there； that froze me for a second。 It must have been there all the time； sitting motionless and staring straight at me from the far edge of the level area of the Grounds； but I hadn't noticed it at first。 When I did； something about its stillness stilled me for a moment。 Without actually moving physically； I shook my head clear inside and decided that the big male would make a fine head for a Pole。 The rabbit might as well have been stuffed for all the movement it made； and I could see that it definitely was staring right at me； its little eyes not blinking； its tiny nose not sniffing； its ears untwitched。 I stared straight back at it and very slowly brought the gun round to bear； moving it first one way then slightly the other； so that it looked like something swaying with the wind in the grass。 It took about a minute to get the rifle in place and my head in the correct position； cheek by stock； and still the beast hadn't moved a millimetre。
Four times larger； his big whiskered head split neatly into four by the crosshairs； he looked even more impressive； and just as immobile。 I frowned and brought my head up； suddenly thinking that it might just be stuffed； perhaps somebody was having a laugh at my expense。 Town boys？ My father？ Surely not Eric yet ？ It was a stupid thing to have done； I'd moved my head far too quickly for it to look natural； and the buck shot off up the bank。 I dipped my head and brought the gun up at the same time without thinking。 There was no time to get back into the right position； take a breath and gently squeeze the trigger； it was up and bang； and with my whole body unbalanced and both hands on the gun I fell forward； rolling as I did so to keep the gun out the sand。
When I looked up； cradling the gun and gasping； my backside sunk in sand； I couldn't see the rabbit。 I forced the gun down and hit myself on the knees。 'Shit！' I told myself。
The buck wasn't in a hole； however。 It wasn't even near the bank where the holes were。 It was tearing across the level ground in great leaps； heading right at me and seeming to shake and shiver in mid…air with every bound。 It was ing at me like a bullet； head shaking； lips curled back； teeth long and yellow and by far the biggest I'd ever seen on a rabbit； live or dead。 Its eyes looked like coiled slugs。 Blobs of red arced from its left haunch with every pouncing leap； it was almost on me； and I was sat there staring。
There was no time to reload。 By the time I started to react there was no time to do anything except at the instinctive level。 My hands left the gun hanging in mid…air above my knees and went for the catapult； which as always was hanging on my belt； the arm…rest stuck down between that and my cords。 Even my quick…reaction steelies were beyond reach in time； though； the rabbit was on me in a half…second； heading straight for my throat。
I caught it with the catapult； the thick black tubing of the rubber twisting once in the air as I scissored my hands and fell back； letting the buck go over my head and then kicking with my legs and turning myself so that I was level with it where it lay； kicking and struggling with the power of a wolverine； spreadeagled on the sand slope with its neck caught in the black rubber。 Its head twisted this way and that as it tried to reach my fingers with its chopping teeth。 I hissed through my own teeth at it and tugged the rubber tighter； then tighter still。 The buck thrashed and spat and made a high keening noise I didn't think rabbits were capable of and beat its legs on the ground。 I was so rattled I glanced round to make sure this wasn't a signal for an army of bunnies like this Dobermann of a beast to e up from behind and tear me to shreds。
The damn thing wouldn't die！ The rubber was stretching and stretching and not tightening enough； and I couldn't move my hands for fear of it tearing the flesh off a finger or biting my nose off。 The same consideration stopped me from butting the animal； I wasn't going to put my face near those teeth。 I couldn't get a knee up to break its back； either； because I was almost slipping down the slope as it was； and I couldn't possibly get any purchase on that surface with only one leg。 It was crazy！ This wasn't Africa！ It was a rabbit； not a lion！ What the hell was happening here？
It finally bit me； twisting its neck more than I would have thought possible and catching my right index finger right on the knuckle。
That was it。 I screamed and pulled with all my might； shaking my hands and my head and throwing myself backwards and over as I did so； banging one knee off the gun where it lay； fallen in the sand。
I ended up lying in the scrubby grass at the bottom of the hill； my knuckles white as I throttled the rabbit； swinging it in front of my face with its neck held on the thin black line of rubber tubing； now tied like a knot on a black string。 I was still shaking； so I couldn't tell if the vibrations the body made were its or mine。 Then the tubing gave way。 The rabbit slammed into my left hand while the other end of the rubber whipped my right wrist； my arms flew out in opposite directions； crashing into the ground。
I lay on my back； my head on the sandy ground； staring out to the side where the body of the buck lay at the end of a little curved line of black； and tangled in the arm…rest and grip of the catapult。 The animal was still。
I looked up at the sky and made a fist with the other hand； beating it into the ground。 I looked back at the rabbit； then got up and knelt over it。 It was dead； the head rolled slack； neck broken； when I lifted it。 The left haunch was matted red with blood where my pellet had hit it。 It was big； size of a tomcat； the biggest rabbit I'd ever seen。 Obviously I'd left the rabbits alone for too long； or I'd have known about the existence of such a brute。
I sucked at the little trickle of blood from my finger。 My catapult； my pride and joy； the Black Destroyer； itself destroyed by a rabbit！ Oh； I suppose I could have written off and got a new length of rubber； or got old Cameron in the ironmonger's shop to find me something； but it would never feel right again。 Every time I lifted it to aim it at a target living or not…this moment would be at the back of my mind。 The Black Destroyer was finished。
I sat back in the sand and looked quickly round the area。 Still no other rabbits。 Hardly surprising。 There was no time to waste。 There's only one way to react after something like this。
I got up； retrieved the rifle； lying half…buried in the sand on the slope； went to the top of the hill； looked round； then decided to risk leaving everything as it was。 I cradled the gun in my arms and set off at Emergency Speed； hurtling down the path back to the island at maximum； trusting to luck and adrenalin that I wouldn't put a foot wrong and end up lying gasping in the grass with a multiple fracture of the femur。 I used the gun to balance myself with on the tighter corners； the grass and the ground were both dry； so it wasn't as risky as it might have been。 I cut off the path proper and charged up over a dune and down its other side to where the service pipe carrying the water and electricity to the house appears out of the sand and crosses the creek。 I jumped the iron spikes and landed with both feet on the concrete； then ran over the narrow top of the pipe and jumped down on to the island。
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