The Wabbit emerged from a hole in a forest into what looked like a passageway. "It's just the way the light falls at twilight," he reasoned. Surrounded by ancient stones, he tottered from side to side like a drunken wheelbarrow. He clutched at his radio and to his surprise it crackled. "Come in Wabbit, come in." It was Lapinette's voice, but she was strangely distorted. "Wabbit, copy. Wabbit here." It was all he could manage. "Wabbit, I'm at the place in the park you mentioned. Where are you?" The Wabbit looked all round and tried to get his bearings. "Forest," he said. Lapinette grunted. "That narrows it down." The Wabbit pulled himself together. "I came out from a hole in the middle of standing stones - and the evening sun is lighting my path." Lapinette thought that sounded poetic, but it really didn't help. "Can you see anything else?" The Wabbit employed his special blue glasses. He felt something pushing him sideways, then back. "I can see big stones all standing up in a long line." The radio crackled again. "I'll look it up. Stay where you are and don't move. Out." The radio fell silent. A breeze sprang up. Trees swayed in the wind and made a whispering sound that soothed him. Leaves rustled at his feet and turned over. The stones and the hole he'd emerged from appeared to rock back and forth. The Wabbit was lulled. He felt very, very tired and lay down by the stones. Then he fell fast asleep.