And it seemed very right that the wall grew there, because it marked the exact spot where the woodland ended and the lakeshore began. It was a most natural dividing line for two very different worlds and it was respected by all, except for the bugs, who didn't matter, and the ducks, who felt themselves above such things as responsibilities and boundaries. But for most everyone in the forest, the wall marked the edge of their world, and it was really a very comforting thing to be able to see.

But the rabbits weren't content with just looking. Often, in the evenings when they were munching clover that grew at the edge of the wood, they would catch a glimpse of the wall. And if their bellies were not too stuffed and heavy from all the greens, and if they sat on their haunches and twitched their pink ears and heard nothing dangerous rustling in the grasses, they would step and hop and step and hop and jump up on top of the wall to watch the moon appear in the sky and her sister dance on the lake with the water stars. On clear, quiet nights, as the warm summer breeze ruffled through their soft fur, the rabbits would take turns telling stories to each other. Any of the animals around them who were awake would lie still and listen, spellbound, as the rabbits wove wondrous tales of the mysteries of the forest and the spirits of their forefathers who lived long ago.

Every now and then the stories would be interrupted by a young bunny fooling around near the edge of the wall. Sorely reprimanded and sent home straightaway, he would soon be sorry for his folly. It was dangerous to fall onto the beach, the elders said. It probably would have been an easy jump for the rabbits to hop back over, but the sense of security that prevailed when they stayed on their side of the wall prevented them from risking it. They liked it that way, and it suited them just fine.

For the fish, the wall was a distant impossibility. It had come to symbolize for them the unattainable. No fish had ever been able to swim close enough to touch his nose to the wall, and if ever they tried and looked out of the lake, the fish saw that the wall reached as high as the sky and blocked out the sun. Sometimes, from the top, a rabbit would look down condescendingly.

That bothered the fish terribly, for they were very proud and haughty creatures. "See our beautiful rainbow scales," they would lament to one another. "See how they shimmer in the sunlight. Oh, how much more beautiful would we be if our bodies were not hidden by the cloudy waters of this muddy pool. If only it were not for the wretched wall!" they would sigh and leap out of the lake, and know for a moment that they had shimmered like jewels in the open air.

"It's not fair that the rabbits can climb the wall and hop any-which-where that they please-they are ugly and brown, and it is they who should be trapped here below instead of us!" they would cry, and send up masses of bubbles in indignation. But the rabbits were too far away to hear the jealous protests and thought the fish were only playing. The rabbits would put their noses down as low as they could without falling off the wall and wriggle and wrinkle them back at the fish in the shallows.

"Oh, how they mock us!" the fish would mourn, and swim away, exceedingly offended.

The rabbits, of course, did not hear what the fish were saying, but the ducks did if they were floating near by. The ducks thought the fish were ridiculous.

"They might be called 'pretty' by each other," the birds admitted, "but they don't have wings to fly, so what would be the point of coming out of the lake? They're better off staying below and eating the algae so we can better admire our own reflection in the water," they would say. The fish knew what the ducks thought of them, and so they dismissed the fowl as simple-minded. They became increasingly more careless with their speech around the birds and eventually spoke freely around them, as if the ducks couldn't hear. And that is how, on that beautiful fall day, their plan to fell the wall was overheard.

At first the ducks thought the fish were simply boasting, as children will do, but the more they listened the more they realized the seriousness of the situation. A school of some of the younger fish, it seemed, had grown increasingly adventurous and bold. They had found in their travels the carcass of a sunken treasure ship, decaying at the bottom of the lake.

In truth she was only a child's toy, when her sails billowed in the wind and her hull glided across the water. But she had been a large toy ship, and the day she capsized in a sudden squall her little master's heart was broken. She settled to the bottom and the lake plants covered over her, slippery and green, and the silver cannon that had so bravely guarded her decks fell off and lay next to her on the sandy lake floor. It too was mostly overgrown and rusted, but the young fishes nudged it loose, and with the help of an obliging watersnake they had managed to drag it into the shallows.

The cannon worked by way of a spring mechanism that when depressed would shoot out ammunition loaded inside its barrel. The fish were busy stuffing the weapon full of plants and shells and any tiny pebbles they could carry in their mouths, and they were filled with an overwhelming pride in their species as they worked.

"After all," they would say when they swam past each other, "we are certainly part shark, and it is only natural that we should fight the rabbits. Soon we'll conquer their lands and be dazzling beautiful in the sunshine."

And that is what the ducks overheard, and they wouldn't have believed it, except that they could see the cannon in the shallows, and they could see the fish filling it with anything they could carry in their mouths. So the ducks took off out of the water with a loud splashing and a great deal of quacking, and they flew over the wall to where the rabbits were peacefully frolicking in the clover by the forest.

As you might well imagine, the rabbits at first could not believe the ducks.

"Go and see for yourselves!" the ducks insisted, and when the rabbits did, they saw the cannon in the shallows and they saw the fish filling it with anything they could carry in their mouths. The rabbits suddenly grew very afraid, and did not know what to do.

"What would happen to us if the fish should knock down the wall?" they wondered and worried. "Do you think they would eat all the clover? Where will we go?"

"It's clear that you have no other choice but to fight," said the ducks. "Because once they destroy the wall and eat the clover, what's to prevent them from entering the forest itself? Who knows how much destruction they will do to your homes? Fish have always been dangerous, but with a cannon they might be invincible."

"But we do not know how to fight!" the rabbits cried in unison, and several of them flipped up their cotton tails and darted across the grass into the forest for fear. "You must help us," they begged the ducks. But the ducks were non-committal, preferring to watch a good battle instead of participating in one.

"We shall give you encouragement, which is what you will need the most," they promised the rabbits in the end, and then flew off to a safe distance to observe. "You'd better hurry!" they called as they flapped away. "Attack is imminent!"

The rabbits were very scared, but they managed to muster up enough courage and wits among themselves to come up with a simple plan. Quickly they darted back and forth into the woods until they had gathered piles of pinecones and sticks and even a few rocks to throw at the fish to defend their burrows. They lined up and each rabbit selected a weapon and manned his post atop the wall overlooking the lake.

The wall that had once separated the lake from the forest now united them in battle. As strange a spectacle as it was for the creatures that lived there, it was sadly an all-too-familiar sight for the sun. Once again, the terrors of battle threatened the peace of the earth below. From high above the sun knew the true proportions of the unrest, but to those involved the whole world was at war.

But suddenly, it seemed that the war would be over before it had even begun. An excitable minnow, tired of waiting for the action to begin, snapped at a waterbug who had paused over his head. The abrupt swish of fins startled several of the rabbits and they jumped down and darted off to the woods. But the few who were brave enough to stay shouted for their comrades to return. The ducks, having just settled down comfortably to watch a good fight and seeing the desertion, broke into loud quacking of disapproval.

All the commotion convinced the fleeing rabbits to change their minds again (as rabbits are notorious for doing). They turned around and bounded back toward the wall yelling, "For the clover!" as loudly as they could manage while clenching pinecones or sticks in their mouths. The ducks responded with a resounding cheer to know the fun was not yet over. Then, just as the last rabbit who had returned readied himself to jump back onto the wall, from the depths of the lake came the shout,

"Fire at will!"

The cannon exploded with a great crack and the shells and pebbles and seaweed hit the wall (before or after that last rabbit landed it has never been quite clear). The rabbits immediately counter-attacked by lobbing sticks and hurling pinecones and plunking pebbles into the water at the same time. (More than one fish that had poked his head out to watch the cannon blast got badly bruised for its effort.)

And then, before the rabbits had time to reload, another great crack echoed and for one brief moment all the fish, all the rabbits, and all the ducks were perfectly still, wondering where the noise had come from. But before anyone could decide on its source, the section of the wall that the most rabbits had been standing on suddenly crumbled and fell onto the lake! The chunks of cement made an incredible splash, taking several of the hapless animals with them.

"Help! They've got us!" the sinking rabbits squealed, and splashed helplessly in the shallows.

"Get up! Get out!" squawked the ducks, flying in closer, but the rabbits did not need to be told and were already scurrying away as quickly as they could. They leaped over the wall and bounced, dripping wet with sandy paws, over the clover and into the woods, where all their dry companions were already hiding.

"We were nearly eaten alive!" they panted as they shivered in the shade, their sopping fur matted and clumped. (It would have been closer to the truth to say that half a dozen minnows had only narrowly escaped being squashed to death by furry hind feet.)

It was a game of sport gone bad, and the ducks wanted no part in it anymore, being above things such as blame. They kept flying over the lake and disappeared from sight. Not in a million years would anyone have predicted the fish could have succeeded in knocking down the wall, but it had happened and the two worlds were thrown into utter chaos.

"Retreat!" was the cry that bubbled in the lake when the rabbits crashed through the front lines. Like flashes of lightning the underwater troops had darted away, abandoning the cannon that had been smashed beyond repair. But one lone fish hung back and did not swim as away as far as the others. When the ripples smoothed out he returned to the shallows, propelled by his curiosity to survey the damage.

He swam around the shattered cannon and around the chunks of stone that had broken off the wall. He poked his head out of the water and was amazed to see, for the first time, the green clover in the grass and the fall hues of the forest beyond. The sunlight was streaming through a gaping hole in the wall, revealing a mysterious landscape.

"We did it," the fish gasped in awe, and by then the other fish had joined him and were also gasping in amazement.

"What do we do now?" some of them started to ask, each staring at him with one unblinking eye from the sides of their flat heads.

"Do?" cried the one who had discovered the hole first. "We must go over the wall and into the sunlight!" The others agreed with him wholeheartedly and swam around him encouragingly.

"Yes, you must, that's what you must do," they said. "We're right behind you," they promised. They cleared the way for the brave fish and wished him luck.

The fish backed up just a little, and then with a powerful swish of his tail he leaped out of the water. He leaped higher than he had ever leaped before, and as he sailed in the air the sun caught his scales and he shimmered in the light like a dazzling jewel.

"I am beautiful!" he knew in his heart as he sailed in the air. "Freed from the murky depths forever!" And if time would have frozen that very second, it would have been true. But unfortunately, after he had soared up, the fish plummeted down, and even more unfortunate for him was that, in the end, he landed. He landed, not in the grass and the clover as he had hoped, but instead exactly on the ruins of the wall. It was really an awful place for anyone to land, but especially awful for a fish. The poor thing cut his soft belly on the jagged edges of rock and started to bleed.

"Help! Help!" he cried in anguish, and he thrashed about, but none of his friends could help him. They were all too afraid to jump out of the lake. Then, to his further horror, the fish discovered (as you probably already knew) that he could not breathe air. It had never before occurred to any of the fish that there was a perfectly good reason that they were under the water in the first place.

"I am doomed!" the stranded fish wept to himself, as his strength quickly faded away. But perhaps, he thought, something could be gained from his great sacrifice. "I will take comfort in the fact that I am the most beautiful, most radiant creature, lying here in the pure sunlight. All will see me and know that it is true." To the end he was a vain and silly fish, and with that most noble thought alone he was prepared to die.

But preparation does not guarantee death, as he would soon discover. At that moment there were two children making their windy way down the beach. It was not long until they happened upon the most beautiful creature and laid eyes on his shimmering jewel-like scales.

"Ewww! Disgusting! A dead fish," shrieked the little girl, and hid behind her brother when she saw it.

"Where?" asked the boy eagerly. He quickly found a stick and poked at it a couple of times.

"Wait, it's not dead yet," said the clever boy, and he picked up the fish and thrust it into his sister's face so she could get a better look. "See?"

"Ewww! Ewwww! Get it away!" she screamed, and slapped at it, so that the boy lost his grip and dropped the fish on the sand.

"Look what you did," he complained. "You made me drop it. Hey! What's that?" He had caught sight of the cannon barrel sticking out of the water. While the distracted boy sloshed around gathering the pieces of the broken cannon, the fish flopped weakly until he was close enough for the water to lap over his body. So excited was the boy over his new treasure that he never noticed the fish being rocked back and forth by the gentle movement of the waves. Finally, pulled back under, the fish was revitalized by the refreshing liquid flowing through his gills once again, and he swam back into the depths as quickly as he could.

The fish's wound was not very serious and soon healed, although he carried the scar with him for the rest of his life. The story of the cannon and the cottontails circulated underwater until it was heavily encrusted with exaggeration. By the time the ducks returned the following spring, the fish widely held as fact that several of them had flown through the air as if they had wings, driving off the entire attacking army, which not only consisted of rabbits, but also dogs.

The ducks laughed mockingly at the fish who were so proud of themselves. Being above such things as scruples, the ducks amused themselves by pretending they did not recall the lakeside confrontation the previous fall. "Really! Fish fighting rabbits! Who ever heard of anything more ridiculous?" they said to the fish seriously, but then hid their faces under their wings until they could stop shaking with laughter. By that time the Parks Service had patched the wall so well that it was impossible to tell where it had ever been broken. Without any proof to refute the ducks, the silly fish began whispering to each other and presently started to doubt themselves. Eventually all the fish, including the scarred one, admitted to be being confused and fabricating the whole affair.

"But think!" the fish exclaimed together. "We may never have attacked the rabbits, but it sounds like such a good idea that we really must try!" Pleased that fish not being able to breathe air was proven a myth, the silly creatures jealously eyed the wall once again. But although they longed desperately to topple it, a short supply of sunken vessels with functioning artillery forced their ambitions to dissolve into dreams and nothing more.

Rabbits, however, have memories as long as their ears and they avoided the wall like a starving wolf. They were timid by nature, and the incident had made them even more suspicious and scared. "If fish will turn on you, who can be safe?" they asked, and from then on trusted no one. Rarely did they ever venture more than a foot or two out of the forest, even at night. Never again did they hop over the clover, and never again did they sit on the wall and weave stories in the moonlight for all the animals that were still awake to hear. And because they did not tell any more of the mysteries of the forest and the spirits of their forefathers who lived long ago, the stories were all but forgotten. And that is why the truth of the whole matter as it was just described to you is so rarely ever heard by anyone but rabbits anymore.

(c) 2002
By Justine Schmiesing
All Rights Reserved

Justine Schmiesing lives happily in Steubenville, Ohio with her husband and four children. (And we here at TOI are thankful to Dr. Holmes who pointed Justine towards our humble publication!)