Bevis: The Story of a Boy
Page 41
and picked up therabbit, which was kicking in the grass. Bevis rubbed his shoulder andfelt his collar-bone.
"Hurt?" said Jack, laughing. "Kicked? I was going to tell you only youwere in such a hurry. You should have held the stock tight to yourshoulder, then it would not kick. There, like this; now try."
Bevis took the gun and pressed it firm to his bruised shoulder.
"Got it tight?" said Jack. "Aim at that thistle, and try again."
"But he'll frighten the rabbits, and it's my turn," said Mark.
"All gone in," said Jack, "every one; you'll have to wait till they comeout again. Shoot."
Bevis shot, and the thistle was shattered. It scarcely hurt him at all,it would not have done so in the least, only his shoulder was tendernow.
"It's a very little rabbit," said Mark.
"That it's not," said Bevis. "How dare you say so?"
"It looks little."
"The size of a kitten," said Jack. "As sweet as a chicken," he added,"when cooked, and as white. You shall have it to-morrow for dinner--just the right size to be nice;" he saw that Bevis was rather inclinedto be doubtful, and wished to reassure him. Jack was a huge,kind-hearted giant.
"Are you sure it will be nice?"
"The very thing," said Jack, "if Mark can only shoot another just likeit; it wants two for a pudding."
About half an hour afterwards Mark did shoot another, and then there wasa long discussion as to which was the biggest, which could not bedecided, for, in fact, being both about the same age, one could hardlybe distinguished from the other, except that Mark's had a shot-hole inthe ear, and Bevis's had not. On the way home a cloud of sparrows roseout of some wheat and settled on the hedge, and Bevis had a shot atthese, bringing down three. Afterwards he missed a yellow-hammer thatsat singing happily on a gate.
He wanted the yellow-hammer because it had so fine a colour. Theyellow-hammer sang away while he aimed, repeating the same note, as heperched all of a heap, a little lump of feathers on the top bar. Theinstant the flash came the bird flew, and as is its habit in startingdrooped, and so was shielded by the top bar. The bar was scarred withshot, and a dozen pellets were buried in it; but the yellow-hammer wasnot hurt.
Mark was delighted that Bevis had missed. There was an elm near thegarden, and up in it Mark, on the look-out for anything, spied a youngthrush. He took steady aim, and down came the thrush. They weredisposed to debate as to who had shot, best, but Jack stopped it, andbrought out the quoits. After they had played some time, and it wasgrowing dusky, Ted entered the field.
"Halloa! Pompey," said Mark. "Pompey!"
"Pompey," said Jack, not understanding.
Ted walked straight up to Bevis.
"Where did you go," said Bevis, "after I fell over?"
"But aren't you angry?" said Ted.
"Angry--why?"
"Because I sent you over."
"But you didn't do it purposely."
"No, _that_ I didn't," said Ted, with all his might.
From that moment they were better friends than they had ever beenbefore, though it was some time before Ted could really believe thatBevis was not angry about it. In fact, the idea had never enteredBevis's mind. Ted stopped with them to supper, and everything wasexplained to Jack, who was delighted with the battle, and could not hearenough about it. But they did not press Ted as to what had become ofhim, seeing how confused he was whenever the subject was approached.
Quite beside himself with terror and misery, poor Ted had pretendedillness and remained in his room, refusing to see any one, and dreadingevery footstep and every knock at the door, lest it should be theconstable come to arrest him. Towards the afternoon Val, who hadalready been down to Bevis's house and found he was all right, strolledup to see Pompey. Ted would not open the door even to him, and Valtaunted him for being such a coward all that time after the battle.Still, Ted would not unlock it till Val happened to say that there was arow about the war, and Bevis had gone up to Jack's. Open came the doordirectly.
"Where's Bevis?" said Ted, grasping at Val's arm.
"At Jack's."
"Not killed?"
"Killed--no. How could he be killed?"
As soon as he understood that Bevis was really alive, not even hurt, Tedstarted off, to Val's amazement, and never stopped till he entered thefield where they were picking up the quoits as it grew too dark to playwell. So Caesar and Pompey sat down to supper very lovingly, and talkedover Pharsalia. Big Jack made them tell him the story over and overagain, and wished he could have taken part in the combat. Like Mark,too, he envied Bevis's real shipwreck. Now seeing Jack so interestedthey made use of his good-humour, and coaxed him till at last hepromised to let them shoot with the rifle on the morrow in the evening,after he had finished in the fields.
All next day they rambled about the place, now in the garden, then inthe orchard, then in the rick-yard or the stables, back again into thehouse, and up into the lumber-room at the top to see if they could findanything; down into the larder, where Jack's dear old mother did herbest to surfeit them with cakes and wines, and all the good things shecould think of, for they reminded her of Jack when he was a boy and, ina sense, manageable. As for Jack's old father, who was very old, he satby himself in the parlour almost all day long, being too grim foranybody to approach.
He sat with his high hat on, aslant on his head, and when he wantedanything knocked the table or the floor as chance directed with a thickstick. When he walked out, every one slipped aside and avoided him,hiding behind the ricks, and Jack's pointer slunk into his house,drooping his tail.
In the orchard Bevis and Mark squailed at the pears with short sticks.If they hit one it was bruised that side by the blow; then as it fell ithad another good bump; but it is well-known that such thumping onlymakes pears more juicy. Tired of this they walked down by themill-pool, in which there were a few small trout, Jack's especial pets.The water was so clear that they could see the bottom of the pool forsome distance; it looked very different to that of the New Sea below inthe valley.
"We ought to have some of this water in our water-barrel when we go onour voyage," said Bevis. "It's clearer than the Nile."
"The water-barrel must be got ashore somehow when we have theshipwreck," said Mark, "or perhaps we shall not have any to drink."
They were rather inclined to have a swim in the pool, but did not knowhow Jack would like it, as he was so jealous of his trout, and angry ifthey were disturbed. They would have had a swim though all the same, ifthe miller had not been looking over the hatch of his door. There hestood white and floury, blinking his eyes, and watching them.
"How anybody can be so stupid as to stand stock still, and stare, stare,stare, I can't think," said Mark, quite loud enough for the miller tohear. He did not smile nor stir; he did not even understand that he wasmeant; so sidelong a speech was beyond his comprehension. It would haveneeded very severe abuse indeed, hurled straight at his head, to havemade him so much as lift his hand to dust the flour from his sleeve--thefirst thing he did when he began to feel a little.
Next they went indoors and had a look at the guns and rifle on the rack,which they dared not touch. Hearing the quick clatter of hoofs they ranout, and saw a labourer riding a pony bare back. He had been sent outto a village two miles away for some domestic requirement, and carried aparcel under his arm, while his heels but just escaped scraping theground. The pony came up as sharp as he could, knowing his stable.
But no sooner was the labourer off, than Bevis was up, and forced him togo round the pasture below the house. When Bevis wearied, Mark mounted,and so by turns they rode the pony round and round the field, making himleap a broad furrow, and gallop his hardest. By-and-by, as Bevis gotoff and Mark had put his hand on before he sprang up, the pony gave asnort and bolted, throwing up his heels as he flew for his stable.
Such an experience was new to him, and he was some time before he quiteunderstood; so soon as he did, and found out into what hands he had
fallen, the pony made use of the first opportunity. They followed, buthe showed his heels so viciously they thought it best to let him alone;so hurling the sticks with which they had thrashed him round the fieldat his head, they turned away. After dinner they took to another game.
This was sliding down the steep down just behind the house, on a shortpiece of broad plank with a ridge in front. The way is to lie down withthe chest on the plank head first, trailing the toes behind, legsextended as rudders to keep the course straight. A push with the feetstarts the board, and the pace increasing, you presently travel at afurious velocity. Nothing can be nicer. They worked at it for hours.The old gentleman came out into the garden and watched