Bevis: The Story of a Boy

by Richard Jefferies

there was a dove beyond the hazel bushes acrossthe stream. The shadow was more aslant and rose up the stalks of therushes in the channel. Over the green surface of the ash sprays above,the breeze drew and rippled it like water. A jay came into the fartheroak and scolded a distant mate.

  Presently Pan awoke, nabbed another flea, looked round and shook hisears, from which some of the hair was worn by continual rubbing againstthe bushes under which he had crept for so many years. He felt thirsty,and remembering the stream, went towards it, passing very lightly byBevis, so closely as to almost brush his hat. The slight pad, pad ofhis paws on the moss and earth conveyed a sense of something moving nearhim to Bevis' mind. Bevis instantly sat up, so quickly, that thespaniel, half alarmed, ran some yards.

  Directly Bevis sat up he saw that Mark had fallen asleep. He thoughtfor a moment, and then took a piece of string from his pocket. Steppingquietly up to Mark he made a slip-knot in the string, lifted Mark's armand put his hand through the loop above the wrist, then he jerked ittight. Mark scrambled up in terror--it might have been the python:--

  "O! I say!"

  Before he could finish, Bevis had dragged him two or three steps towardsan ash-pole, when Mark, thoroughly awake, jerked his arm free, thoughthe string hung to it.

  "How dare you?" said Bevis, snatching at the string, but Mark pushed himback. "How dare you? you're a prisoner."

  "I'm not," said Mark very angrily.

  "Yes, you are; you were asleep."

  "I don't care."

  "I will tie you up."

  "You shan't."

  "If you sleep at your post, you have to be tied to a tree, you know youhave, and be left there to starve."

  "I won't."

  "You must, or till the tigers have you. Do you hear? stand still!"

  Bevis tried to secure him, Mark pushed him in turn.

  "You're a wretch."

  "I hate you!"

  "I'll kill you!"

  "I'll shoot you!"

  Mark darted aside and took his spear; Bevis had his bow in an instantand began to draw it. Mark, knowing that Bevis would shoot his hardest,ran for the second oak. Bevis in his haste pulled hard, but let thearrow slip before he could take aim. It glanced upon a bough and shotup nearly straight into the air, gleaming as it went--a streak oflight--in the sunshine. Mark stopped by the oak, and before Bevis couldfetch another arrow poised his spear and threw it. The spear flewdirect at the enemy, but in his haste Mark forgot to throw high enough,he hurled it point-blank, and the hardened point struck the earth andchipped up crumbling pieces of dry ground; then it slid like a serpentsome way through the thin grasses.

  Utterly heedless of the spear, which in his rage he never saw, Bevispicked up an arrow from the place where he had slept, fitted the notchto the string and looked for Mark, who had hidden behind the other oak.Guessing that he was there, Bevis ran towards it, when Mark shouted tohim,--

  "Stop! I say, it's not fair; I have nothing, and you'll be a coward."

  Bevis paused, and saw the spear lying on the ground.

  "Come and take your spear," he said directly; "I won't shoot." He puthis bow on the ground. Mark ran out, and had his spear in a moment.Bevis stooped to lift his bow, but suddenly in his turn cried,--

  "Stop! Don't throw; I want to say something."

  Mark, who had poised his spear, put it down again on the grass.

  "We ought not to fight now," said Bevis. "You know we are exploring,people never fight then, else the savages kill those who are left; theywait till they get home, and then fight."

  "So they do," said Mark; "but I shall not be left tied to a tree."

  "Very well, not this time. Now we must shake hands."

  They shook hands, and Pan, seeing that there was now no danger of achance knock from a flying stick, came forth from the bush where he hadtaken shelter.

  "But you want everything your own way," said Mark sulkily.

  "Of course I do," said Bevis, glaring at him, "I'm captain."

  "But you do when you are not captain."

  "You are a big story."

  "I'm not."

  "You are."

  "I'm not."

  "People are not to contradict me," said Bevis, looking very defiantindeed, and standing bolt upright. "I say I am captain."

  Mark did not reply, but picked up his bat, which had fallen off.Without another word each gathered up his things, then came the questionwhich way to go? Bevis would not consult his companion; his companionwould not speak first. Bevis shut his lips very tight, pressing histeeth together; he determined to continue on and try and get round theNew Sea. He was not sure, but fancied they should do so by keepingsomewhat to the right. He walked to the channel of the stream, sprangacross it, and pushing his way through the hazel bushes, went in thatdirection; Mark followed silently, holding his arm up to stop the boughswhich as Bevis parted them swung back sharply.

  After the hazel bushes there was fairly clear walking between theash-poles and especially near the oak-trees, each of which had an openspace about it. Bevis went as straight as he could, but had to wind inand out round the stoles and sometimes to make a curve when there was athick bramble bush in the way. As they passed in Indian file under somelarger poles, Mark suddenly left the path and began to climb one ofthem. Bevis stopped, and saw that there was a wood-pigeon's nest. Thebird was on the nest, and though she felt the ash-pole tremble as Markcame up, hand over hand, cracking little dead twigs, though her nestshook under her, she stayed till his hand almost touched it. Then sheflew up through the pale green ash sprays, and Mark saw there were twoeggs, for the sticks of which the nest was made were so thinly puttogether that, now the bird was gone, he could see the light through,and part of the eggs lying on them.

  He brought one of the eggs down in his left hand, sliding down the poleslowly not to break it. The pure white of the wood-pigeon's egg iscuriously and delicately mottled like the pores of the finest humanskin. The enamel of the surface, though smooth and glossy, has beneathit some water-mark of under texture like the arm of the Queen of Love,glossy white and smooth, yet not encased, but imperceptibly porous tothat breath of violet sweetness which announces the goddess. Thesunlight fell on the oval as Mark, without a moment's pause, took a pinfrom the hem of his jacket and blew the egg.

  So soon as he had finished, Bevis went on again, and came to somehawthorn bushes, through which they had much trouble to push their way,receiving several stabs from the long thorns. As it was awkward withthe egg in his hand, Mark dropped it.

  There was a path beyond the hawthorn, very little used, if at all, andgreen, but still a path--a trodden line--and Bevis went along it, as itseemed to lead in the direction he wished. By the side of the path hepresently found a structure of ash sticks, and stopped to look at it.At each end four sticks were driven into the ground, two and two, thetops crossing each other so as to make a small V. Longer sticks werelaid in these V's, and others across at each end.

  "It's a little house," said Mark, forgetting the quarrel. "Here's someof the straw on the ground; they thatch it in winter and crawl under."(It was about three feet high.)

  "I don't know," said Bevis.

  "I'm sure it is," said Mark. "They are little men, the savages who livehere, they're pigmies, you know."

  "So they are," said Bevis, quite convinced, and likewise forgetting histemper. "Of course they are, and that's why the path is so narrow. ButI believe it's not a house, I mean not a house to live in. It's a placeto worship at, where they have a fetich."

  "I think it's a house," said Mark.

  "Then where's the fireplace?" asked Bevis decidedly.

  "No more there is a fireplace," said Mark thoughtfully. "It's afetich-place."

  Bevis went on again, leaving the framework behind. Across those barsthe barley was thrown in autumn for the pheasants, which feed by dartingup and dragging down a single ear at a time; thus by keeping the barleyoff the ground there is less waste. They knew this very well.


  "Bevis," said Mark presently.

  "Yes."

  "Let's leave this path."

  "Why?"

  "Most likely we shall meet some savages--or perhaps a herd of wildbeasts, they rush along these paths in the jungle and crush overeverything--perhaps elephants."

  "So they do," said Bevis, and hastily stepped out of the path into thewood again. They went under more ash-poles where the pigeons' nestswere numerous; they counted five all in sight at once, and only a fewyards apart, for they could not see far through the boughs. Some of thebirds were sitting, others were not.