Quite a moon went by before I recovered from Tom's shot. At first I
thought that I was going to die, for, although luckily none of my bones
were broken, the pain in my back was dreadful. When I tried to ease the
agony by rubbing against roots it only became worse, for the fur fell
off, leaving sores upon which flies settled. I could scarcely eat or
sleep, and grew so thin that the bones nearly poked through my pelt.
Indeed I wanted very much to die, but could not. On the contrary, by
degrees I recovered, till at last I was quite strong again and like
other hares, except for the six little grey tufts upon my back and one
hole through my right ear.

Now all this while I had lived in the swamp near the sea, but when my
strength returned I thought of my old home, to which something seemed
to draw me. Also there were no turnips near the swamp, and as the winter
came on I found very little to eat there. So one day, or rather one
night, I travelled back home.

As it happened the first hare that I met near the big wood was my
sister. She was very glad to see me, although she had forgotten how we
came to part, and when I spoke of our father and mother these did not
seem to interest her. Still from that time forward we lived together
more or less till her end came.

One day--this was after we had made our home in the big wood, as hares
often do in winter--there was a great disturbance. When we tried to go
out to feed at daylight we found little fires burning everywhere, and
near to them boys who beat themselves and shouted. So we went back into
the wood, where the pheasants were running to and fro in a great state
of mind.