sort." Insummer the squirrels are thought to have redder fur than in winter.Mark stopped now, and Bevis went on by himself; but the squirrel sawPan, who had run along and came out beyond him. Bevis shot as thesquirrel rushed up a tree, and his arrow struck the bark, quivered amoment, and stuck there.
"The savages will see some one has been hunting," said Mark. "They aresure to see that arrow."
In a few minutes they came to some hazel bushes, and pushing throughthese there was a lane under them in a hollow ten feet deep. Theyscrambled down and followed it, and came to a boulder-stone, on whichsome specks sparkled in the sunshine, so that they had no doubt it wassilver ore. Round a curve of the lane they emerged on the brow of agreen hill, very steep; they had left the wood behind them. The treesfrom here hid the New Sea, and in front, not far off, rose the Downs.
"What are those mountains?" asked Mark.
"The Himalayas, of course," said Bevis. "Let's go to them."
They went along the brow, it was delicious walking there, for the sunwas now much lower, and the breeze cool, and beneath them were meadows,and a brook winding through. But suddenly they came to a deep coombe--anullah.
"Look!" said Mark, pointing to a chimney just under them. The squaretop, blackened by soot, stood in the midst of apple-trees, on whoseboughs the young green apples showed. The thatch of the cottage wasconcealed by the trees.
"A hut!" said Bevis.
"Savages!" said Mark, "I know, I'll pitch a stone down the chimney, andyou get your bow ready, and shoot them as they rush out."
"Capital!" said Bevis. Mark picked up a flint, and "chucked" it--itfell very near the chimney, they heard it strike the thatch and rolldown. Mark got another, and most likely, having found the range, wouldhave dropped it into the chimney this time, when Bevis stopped him.
"It may be a witch," he said. "Don't you know what John told us? if youpitch a stone down a witch's chimney it goes off bang! and the stoneshoots up into the air like a cannon-ball."
"I remember," said Mark. "But John is a dreadful story. I don'tbelieve it."
"No, no more do I. Still we ought to be careful. Let's creep down andlook first."
They got down the hillside with difficulty, it was so steep andslippery--the grass being dried by the sun. At the bottom there was astreamlet running along deep in a gully, a little pool of the clearestwater to dip from, and a green sparred wicket-gate in a hawthorn hedgeabout the garden. Peering cautiously through the gate they saw an oldwoman sitting under the porch beside the open door, with a black teapoton the window-ledge close by, and a blue teacup, in which she wassoaking a piece of bread, in one hand.
"It's a witch," whispered Mark. "There's a black cat by thewall-flowers--that's a certain sign."
"And two sticks with crutch-handles," said Bevis. "But just lookthere." He pointed to some gooseberry bushes loaded with the swellingfruit, than which there is nothing so pleasant on a warm, thirsty day.They looked at the gooseberries, and thirsted for them; then they lookedat the witch.
"Let's run in and pick some, and run out quick," whispered Mark.
"You stupid; she'd turn us into anything in a minute."
"Well--shoot her first," said Mark. "Take steady aim; John says if youdraw their blood they can't do anything. Don't you remember, they stuckthe last one with a prong."
"Horrid cruel," said Bevis.
"So it was," said Mark; "but when you want gooseberries."
"I wish we had some moly," said Bevis; "you know, the plant Ulysses had.Mind before we start next time we must find some. Who knows whatfearful magic people we might meet?"
"It was stupid not to think of it," said Mark. "Do you know, I believeshe's a mummy."
"Why?"
"She hasn't moved; and I can't see her draw her breath."
"No more she does. This is a terrible place."
"Can we get away without her seeing?"
"I believe she knows we're here now, and very likely all we have beensaying."
"Did she make that curious thunder we heard?"
"No; a witch isn't strong enough; it wants an enchanter to do that."
"But she knows who did it?"
"Of course she does. There, she's moved her arm; she's alive. Aren'tthose splendid gooseberries?"
"I'll go in," said Bevis; "you hold the gate open, so that I can runout."
"So I will; don't go very near."
Bevis fitted an arrow to the string, and went up the garden path. Butas he came near, and saw how peaceful the old lady looked, he removedthe arrow from the string again. She took off her spectacles as he cameup; he stopped about ten yards from her.
"Mrs Old Woman, are you a witch?"
"No, I bean't a witch," said the old lady; "I wishes I was; I'd sooncharm a crock o' gold."
"Then, if you are not a witch, will you let us have some gooseberries?here's sixpence."
"You med have some if you want's 'em; I shan't take yer money."
"What country is this?" said Bevis, going closer, as Mark came up besidehim.
"This be Calais."
"Granny, don't you know who they be?" said a girl, coming round thecorner of the cottage. She was about seventeen, and very pretty, withthe bloom which comes on sweet faces at that age. Though they were butboys they were tall, and both handsome; so she had put a rose in herbosom. "They be Measter Bevis and Measter Mark. You know, as lives atLongcot."
"Aw, to be sure." The old lady got up and curtseyed. "You'll come in,won't 'ee?"
They went in and sat down on chairs on the stone floor. The girlbrought them a plate of the gooseberries and a jug of spring-water.Bevis had not eaten two before he was up and looking at an old gun inthe corner; the barrel was rusty, the brass guard tarnished, the ramrodgone, still it was a gun.
"Will it go off?" he said.
"Feyther used to make un," said the girl.
Next he found a big black book, and lifted up the covers, and saw a rudeengraving of a plant.
"Is that a magic book?" said he.
"I dunno," she replied. "Mebbe. Granny used to read un."
It was an old herbal.
"Can't you read?" said Bevis.
The girl blushed and turned away.
"A' be a lazy wench," said the old woman. "A' can't read a mossel."
"I bean't lazy."
"You be."
Bevis, quite indifferent to that question, was peering into every nookand corner, but found nothing more.
"Let's go," said he directly.
Mark would not stir till he had finished the gooseberries.
"Tell me the way round the--the--" he was going to say sea, butrecollected that they would not be able to understand how he and Markwere on an expedition, nor would he say pond--"round the water," hesaid.
"The Longpond?" said the girl. "You can't go round, there's the marsh--not unless you goes back to Wood Lane, and nigh handy your place."
"Which way did 'ee come?" asked the old woman.
"They come through the wood," said the girl. "I seen um; and they hadthe spannul."
She was stroking Pan, who loved her, as she had fed him with a bone.She knew the enormity of taking a strange dog through a wood in thebreeding-season.
"How be um going to get whoam?" said the old woman.
"We're going to walk, of course," said Bevis.
"It's four miles."
"Pooh! We've come thousands. Come on, Mark; we'll get round somehow."
But the girl convinced him after a time that it was not possible,because of the marsh and the brook, and showed him too how the shadowsof the elms were lengthening in the meadow outside the garden at thefoot of the hill. Bevis reluctantly decided that they must abandon theexpedition for that day, and return home. The girl offered to show themthe way into the road. She led them by a narrow path beside thestreamlet in the gully, and then along the steep side of the hill, wherethere were three or four more cottages, all built on the slope, steep asit was. The path in front of the doors
had a kind of breastwork, thatfolk might not inadvertently tumble over and roll--if not quite sober--into the gully beneath. Yet there were small gardens behind, whichalmost stood up on end, the vegetables appearing over the roofs.
Upon the breastwork or mound they had planted a few flowers, all yellow,or yellow-tinged, marigolds, sunflowers, wall-flowers, a stray tulip,the gaudiest
Bevis: The Story of a Boy Page 16