Bevis: The Story of a Boy

by Richard Jefferies

had followed the water a littledistance and were certain they could not cross. "We can't get out andwe can't go back; I am so tired, I can't push through much longer."

  "We must go on," said Bevis; "somehow or other we must go on." He toodreaded the idea of returning through the entangled vegetation. It wasless dense on the verge of the pool than by the hedge, and by feelingtheir way with the spear they got on for a while. Thirsty as he wasMark could not drink from the weed-grown water; indeed he could not seethe water at all for weeds and green scum, and if he pushed these asidewith his spear the surface bubbled with marsh gases. Bevis toopersuaded him not to drink it. Slowly they worked on, the marsh on oneside, and the hedge on the other.

  "Look," said Mark presently. "There's a willow; can't we climb up andsee round?"

  "Yes," said Bevis; and they changed their course to get to it; it wasnearer the hedge. They felt the ground rise, it was two yards higher bythe willow, and harder; when the sea came up the spot in fact was anislet. There were bushes on it, brambles, and elder in flower; none ofthese grow in water itself, but flourish on the edge. There wereseveral tall willow-poles. Bevis put down his bow and arrows, took offhis jacket (the pockets of which were stuffed full of things), took holdof a pole, and climbed up. Mark did the same with another. The poleswere not large enough to bear their weight very high; they got up aboutsix or eight feet.

  "There's Sindbad's Island," said Mark, pointing to the right. Far away,beyond the sedges and the reeds, there was a broad strip of clear water,and across it the island of Serendib. "If we only had a canoe."

  "Perhaps we could make one," said Bevis. "They make them sometimes ofwillow--and from oak, only we have nothing to cover the framework;sometimes they weave the rushes so close as to keep out water--"

  "I can plait rushes," said Mark; "I can plait eight; but they would notkeep out water. What's over the hedge?"

  They looked that way; they could see over the thick, close hawthorn, butbehind it there rose tall ash-poles, which shut out the view completely.

  "It is a thick double-mound," said Bevis. "There's ash in the middle;like that in our field, you know."

  In front they could see nothing but the same endless reed-grass, exceptthat there were more bushes and willows interspersed among it, showingthat there must be numerous banks. Tired of holding on to the poles,which had no boughs of size enough to rest on, they let themselvesgradually slide down. As they descended Mark spied a dove's nest in oneof the hawthorn bushes; tired as he was he climbed up the pole again,and looked into it from a higher level. There was an egg in it; he hadhalf a mind to take it, but remembered that it would be awkward tocarry.

  "We shall never get home," he said, after he had told Bevis of the nest.

  "Pooh," said Bevis. "Here's something for you to drink." He had founda great teazle plant, whose leaves formed cups round the stem. In fourof these cups there was a little darkish water, which had been theresince the last shower. Mark eagerly sipped from the one which had themost, though it was full of drowned gnats; it moistened his lips, but hespluttered most of it out again. It was not only unpleasant to thetaste but warm.

  "I hate Africa," he shouted; "I _hate_ it."

  "So do I," said Bevis; "but we've got to get through it somehow." Hestarted again; Mark followed sullenly, and Pan came behind Mark. Thusthe spaniel, stepping in the track they made, had the least difficultyof either. Pan's tail drooped, he was very hungry and very thirsty, andhe knew it was about the time the dishes were rattling in the kitchen athome.

  "Listen," said Mark presently, putting his hand on Bevis's shoulder, andstopping him.

  Bevis listened. "I can't hear anything," he said, "except the midsummerhum."

  The hum was loud in the air above them, almost shrill, but there was notanother sound. Now Mark had called attention to it the noonday silencein that wild deserted place was strange.

  "Where are all the things?" said Mark, looking round. "All the birdshave gone."

  Certainly they could hear none, even the brook-sparrows in the sedges bythe New Sea were quiet. There was nothing in sight alive but a fewswifts at an immense height above them. Neither wood-pigeon, nor dove,nor thrush called; not even a yellow-hammer.

  "I know," whispered Bevis. "I know--they are afraid."

  "Afraid?"

  "Yes; can't you see Pan does not hunt about?"

  "What is it?" asked Mark in an undertone, grasping his spear tightly."There are no mummies here?"

  "No," said Bevis. "It's the serpent, you know; he's a hundred feetlong; he's come over from the Unknown Island, and he's waiting in thesesedges somewhere to catch something; the birds are afraid to sing."

  "Could he swallow a man?" said Mark.

  "Swallow a man," with curling lip. "Swallow a buffalo easily."

  "Hush! what's that?" A puff of wind rustled the grasses.

  "It's the snake," said Mark, and off he tore. Bevis close behind him,Pan at his heels. In this wild panic they dashed quickly through thegrasses, which just before had been so wearisome an obstacle. But theheat pulled them up in ten minutes, panting.

  "Did you see him?" said Bevis.

  "Just a little bit of him--I think," said Mark.

  "We've left him behind."

  "He'll find us by our track."

  "Let's tie Pan up, and let him swallow Pan."

  "Where's a rope? Have you any string? Give me your handkerchief."

  They were hastily tying their handkerchiefs together, when Mark, lookinground to see if the monstrous serpent was approaching, shouted,--

  "There's a tree!"

  There was a large hollow willow or pollard in the hedge. They rushed toit, they clasped it as shipwrecked men a beam. Mark was first, he gotinside on the "touchwood," and scrambled up a little way, then he workedup, his back against one side, and his knees the other. Bevis gotunderneath, and "bunted" him up. Bunting is shoving with shoulder orhands. There were brambles on the top; Mark crushed through, and in aminute was firmly planted on the top.

  "Give me my spear, and your bow, and your hand," he said breathlessly.

  The spear and the bow were passed up: Bevis followed, taking Mark's handjust at the last. Mark put the point of his spear downwards to stab themonster. Bevis fitted an arrow to his bow. Pan looked up, but couldnot climb. They watched the long grasses narrowly, expecting to seethem wave from side to side every instant, as the python wound hissinuous way. There was a rustling beneath, but on the other side of thehedge. Bevis looked and saw Pan, who had crept through.

  "What are you going to do?" said Mark, as Bevis slung his bow on hisshoulder as if it was a rifle, and began to move out on the hollow topof the tree, which as it became hollow had split, and partly archedover. Bevis did not answer: he crept cautiously out on the top whichvibrated under him; then suddenly seizing a lissom bough, he slipped offand let himself down. He was inside the hedge that had so long baffledthem. Mark saw in an instant, darted his spear down and followed. Sosoon as he touched ground, off they set running. There were no sedgeshere, nothing but short grasses and such herbage as grows under theperpetual shade of ash-poles, and they could run easily. The ease ofmotion was, in itself, a relief, after the struggle in the reed-grass.When they had raced some distance, and felt safe, they stopped.

  "Why, this is a wood!" said Mark, looking round. Ash-stoles and polessurrounded them on every side.

  "So it is," said Bevis. "No, it's a jungle."

  They walked forward and came to an open space, round about a broadspreading oak.

  "I shall sit down here," said Bevis.

  But as they were about to sit down, Pan, who had woke up when he scentedrabbits, suddenly disappeared in a hollow.

  "What's that," said Mark. He went to see, and heard a sound of lapping.

  "Water!" shouted Mark, and Bevis came to him. Deep down in a narrowchannel there was the merest trickle of shallow water, but running, andclear as crystal. It came from chalk, and it was limpid.
Pan coulddrink, but they could not. His hollow tongue lapped it up like a spoon;but it was too shallow to scoop up in the palm of the hand, and they hadno tube of "gix," or reed, or oat straw, or buttercup stalk to suckthrough. They sprang into the channel itself, alighting on a place thewater did not cover, but with the stream under their feet they could notdrink. Nothing but a sparrow could have done so.

  Presently Bevis stooped, and with his hands scratched away the siltwhich formed the bottom, a fine silt of powdered chalk,