"That was a good shot anyway," he reflected, with a satisfied smile.
By now the Hare had seen him.
"/The Red-faced Man!/" it exclaimed, "Grampus himself!" and it turned to flee away.
"Don't be frightened," I cried, "he can't hurt you; nothing can hurt you here."The Hare halted and sat up. "No," it said, "I forgot. But you saw, he tried to. Now, Mahatma, you will understand what a bloodthirsty brute he is. Even after I am dead he has tried to kill me again.""Well, and why not?" interrupted the Man. "What are hares for except to be killed?""There, Mahatma, you hear him. Look at me, Man, who am I?"So he looked at the Hare and the Hare looked at him. Presently his face grew puzzled.
"By Jingo!" he said slowly, "you are uncommonly like--you /are/ that accursed witch of a hare which cost me my life. There are the white marks on your back, and there is the grey splotch on your ear. Oh! if only I had a gun--a real gun!""You would shoot me, wouldn't you, or try to?" said the Hare. "Well, you haven't and you can't. You say I cost you your life. What do you mean? It was my life that was sacrificed, not yours.""Indeed," answered the Man, "I thought you got away. Never saw any more of you after you jumped through the French window. Never had time. The last thing I remember is her Ladyship screaming like a mad cockatoo, yes, and abusing me as though I were a pickpocket, with the drawing-room all on fire. Then something happened, and down I went among the broken china and hit my head against the leg of a table.
Next came a kind of whirling blackness and I woke up here.""A fit or a stroke," I suggested.
"Both, I think, sir. The fit first--I have had 'em before, and the stroke afterwards--against the leg of the table. Anyway they finished me between them, thanks to that little beast."Then it was that I saw a very strange thing, a hare in a rage. It seemed to go mad, of course I mean spiritually mad. Its eyes flashed fire; it opened its mouth and shut it after the fashion of a suffocating fish. At last it spoke in its own way--I cannot stop to explain in further detail the exact manner of speech or rather of its equivalent upon the Road.
"Man, Man," it exclaimed, "you say that I finished you. But what did you do to me? You shot me. Look at the marks upon my back. You coursed me with your running dogs. You hunted me with your hounds. You dragged me out of the sea into which I swam to escape you by death, and threw me living to the pack," and the Hare stopped exhausted by its own fury.
"Well," replied the Man coolly, "and suppose I, or my people, did, what of it? Why shouldn't I? You were a beast, I was a man with dominion over you. You can read all about that in the Book of Genesis.""I never heard of the Book of Genesis," said the Hare, "but what does dominion mean? Does this Book of Genesis say that it means the right to torment that which is weaker than the tormentor?""All you animals were made for us to eat," commented the Man, avoiding an answer to the direct question.
"Very good," answered the Hare, "let us suppose that we /were/ given you to eat. Was it in order to eat me that you came out against me with guns, then with dogs that run by sight, and then with dogs that run by smell?""If you were to be killed and eaten, why should you not be killed in one of these ways, Hare?""Why should I be killed in those ways, Man, when others more merciful were to your hand? Indeed, why should I be killed at all? Moreover, if you wished to satisfy your hunger with my body, why at the last was Ithrown to the dogs to devour?"
"I don't quite know, Hare. Never looked at the matter in that light before. But--ah! I've got you now," he added triumphantly. "If it hadn't been for me you never would have lived. You see /I/ gave you the gift of life. Therefore, instead of grumbling, you should be very much obliged to me. Don't you understand? I preserved hares, so that without me you would never have been a hare. Isn't that right, Mr.--Mr.--I am sorry I have forgotten your name," he added, turning towards me.
"Mahatma," I said.
"Oh! yes, I remember it now--Mr.--ah--Mr. Hatter.""There is something in the argument," I replied cautiously, "but let us hear our friend's answer.""Answer--my answer! Well, here it is. What are you, Man, who dare to say that you give life or withhold it? You a Lord of life, /you!/ Itell you that I know little, yet I am sure that you or those like you have no more power to create life than the world we have left has to bid the stars to shine. If the life must come, it will come, and if it cannot fulfil itself as a hare, then it will appear as something else.
