hare

The hare is the quarry pursued during the Rostov family’s hunt, and its flight gives the scene its decisive movement. At first it is only a concealed presence in the stubble, but once it rises, the animal controls the rhythm of the entire company: the hounds are called in, the borzoi are unleashed, and Nicholas Rostov, Natasha Rostova, Ilagin, and “Uncle” abandon decorum in the shared urgency of the chase. The hare’s resistance exposes the rivalry among the dogs and turns a leisure activity into a contest in which skill, reputation, money, affection, and pride are all suddenly at stake.

The Hare as Quarry

The hare is discovered when a whipper-in halts on a knoll, raises his whip, and gives the long-drawn cry of “A-tu!” The signal announces that a hare is sitting nearby. The hunters approach at a measured pace, but the appearance of calm is deceptive. Nicholas Rostov is already thinking of the rival borzoi he has never had the opportunity to test against his own, while Ilagin looks toward his red-spotted Erza and “Uncle” calls for his red Rugay. Natasha Rostova perceives the agitation that the three men are attempting to conceal, and the animal’s hidden presence gathers their attention before it has even moved.

The hare rises before the whipper-in can answer Nicholas’s question about its position. The pack on leash rushes downhill, while the loose borzoi spring after the hounds and the hare. It initially pauses to listen to the shouting and trampling around it, then chooses a direction, lays back its ears, and runs headlong. Its route carries it from the stubble toward the soft autumn sowing and along the balk between the winter rye and the stubble, terrain that repeatedly changes the advantage between quarry and pursuers.

Flight and Pursuit

The hare is described as strong and swift, and its movement repeatedly defeats the dogs’ apparent advantage. Ilagin’s Erza is the first leading rival to reach it. She comes within a length, flies at its scut, and rolls over like a ball, believing she has seized it. The hare arches its back and bounds away more quickly. Milka, the broad-haunched black-spotted borzoi belonging to Nicholas Rostov, then gains rapidly and seems ready to pounce, but she overtakes the hare and passes beyond it because the animal has squatted down.

The hare’s evasions are not passive. When Erza approaches again, she pauses to measure the distance before attempting to seize its hind leg; at that instant the hare moves and darts along the balk. The narrow raised strip of ground favors its running, slowing the borzoi’s advance. Erza and Milka remain abreast, but neither can immediately finish the pursuit. The animal therefore creates a succession of reversals: it is nearly caught, escapes through a change of pace or direction, and forces each dog to reveal a different combination of speed, judgment, endurance, and error.

Capture and Rivalry

Rugay becomes the decisive pursuer. “Uncle” urges the red borzoi forward as it strains, curves its back, pushes past Erza and Milka, and drives the hare from the balk into the rye field. In the muddy ground Rugay continues the attack, sinks to its knees, and finally rolls over with the hare. The other borzoi form a ring around the struggle, and the hunters draw up around the dogs.

The capture does not end the emotional contest; it clarifies it. “Uncle” dismounts, cuts off a pad from the hare, and shakes the body so that the blood drips away. His arms and legs twitch, and his speech becomes an excited defense of Rugay. He insists that the dog has beaten both the thousand-ruble borzoi and the one-ruble one, converting the hare’s death into proof that inherited value and price do not guarantee superiority. He throws the muddy pad to Rugay as a reward, while Nicholas Rostov argues that Milka had exhausted herself by running the hare down repeatedly. Ilagin, meanwhile, minimizes Erza’s failure by claiming that once she had missed and turned the hare, any mongrel could have taken it.

The hare thus becomes the material evidence in a dispute over status. Its body is handled, divided, and used to measure the worth of the animals and their owners. The dogs’ prices, breeding, and reputations are tested not in abstract conversation but against the quarry’s capacity to escape. The animal’s resistance gives the chase its fairness: every contestant must respond to the same moving danger, and the outcome temporarily overturns the hierarchy suggested by wealth.

Narrative and Thematic Significance

The scene’s energy comes from the contrast between the hare’s quiet, purposeful flight and the humans’ noisy loss of self-command. The animal first lies hidden, then listens, chooses its direction, and runs without ceremony; the hunters and dogs answer with cries, galloping horses, whistles, and competing appeals. The hare’s conduct is rendered through physical decisions rather than human speech, yet those decisions govern the scene more completely than the hunters’ intentions. It is not merely decorative countryside wildlife: its body determines the action, exposes the limits of human planning, and gives the dogs an arena in which their qualities become visible.

The capture also releases emotion that social manners had held in check. “Uncle” had seemed sullen and excluded from the contest because Ilagin’s dogs were worth so much, but Rugay’s victory allows him to justify himself triumphantly. Nicholas Rostov’s pride in Milka survives the loss because the pursuit itself has confirmed her endurance. Natasha Rostova’s response is even more direct: she gives a joyous, ecstatic scream so wild that she is likely ashamed of it afterward. The hare’s escape and death therefore produce a temporary community of sensation, drawing aristocrats, huntsmen, dogs, and horses into one rapidly moving event before restoring distinctions of ownership, money, and rank.

Beyond the hunting episode, the hare belongs to a wider animal world that repeatedly reveals the material conditions of human life. The book places animals amid card parties, military marches, and retreating armies: a bear is tormented as entertainment at Anatole Kuragin’s gathering; horses carry troops, baggage, and ammunition; soldiers suffer when fodder and provisions disappear; and animals become part of the physical cost of war. Against that background, the hare’s brief freedom is both vivid and limited. It can choose its direction and exploit the ground, but it remains enclosed within a human sport whose conclusion is predetermined by the hunters’ pursuit. Its independent force is real, yet the narrative also shows how quickly human ownership turns animal vitality into property, prize, and proof of rank.