whilethey're alive, or fry elephants, or boil turkeys. There are no fowls."
"It seems to me," said Mark, "that we ought to have the gun here.Suppose some savages were to land from canoes and get between us and thehut? It's twenty yards to the stockade; more I should think."
"I never thought of that," said Bevis. "There may be fifty canoes fullof them in the reeds, and proas flying here almost. Fetch the gun--quick."
Mark ran and brought it.
"Load with ball," said Bevis.
The ball was rammed home. Pan set up a joyous bark.
"Kick him," said Bevis, languidly raising himself on one arm. He hadbeen lying on his back. "He'll bring the savages, or the crocodiles."
Pan was kicked, and crouched.
Mark leaned the gun against the teak-tree, and sat down again.
"Awfully hot," he said.
"Always is in the tropics."
"Ought to have an awning," said Mark; "and hammocks."
"So we did," said Bevis, sitting up. "How stupid to forget thehammocks. Did you ever see anything like it?"
"We can make an awning," said Mark. "Hang up one of the rugs by thefour corners."
"Capital. Come on."
They fastened four pieces of cord to the corners of the rug, but foundthat the trees did not grow close enough together, so they had to set uptwo poles near the teak, and tie the cords at one end of the rug tothese. The others were tied to a branch of the teak. By the time thiswas done they had worked themselves hot again putting up the awning toget cool. There was not a breath of wind, and it was very warm even inthe double shadow of the teak and the awning.
"Bacon must be done," said Bevis.
"Must," said Mark.
They could not rest more than a quarter of an hour. They forked it out,and Mark held it on the fork, while Bevis ran to the hut for a piece ofboard to put it on, as they had forgotten dishes. Setting the bacon onthe board, they put it on the ground under the awning (Pan wanted tosniff at it), and tried a slice. It was not exactly nice, nordisagreeable, considering that they had forgotten to scrape it, or takethe rind off. But biscuits were not so good as bread.
"We must make some dampers," said Mark; "you know, flour cakes: we can'tbake, we haven't got an oven."
"Dampers are proper," said Bevis. "That's gold-mining. Very likelythere are heaps of nuggets here somewhere--"
"Placers."
"And gold-dust in the river."
"No mustard. And I recollected the salt!" said Mark. "I say; is thisbacon quite nice?"
"Well, no; not quite."
"I don't like it."
"No, I don't."
"Wish we could have brought some meat."
"Can't keep meat under the tropics."
"Shall we chuck it to Pan?"
"No, not all. Here, give him a slice. Pooh! He sniff's at it. Justsee! He's pampered; he won't eat it. Here, take the board, Mark, andput it in the store-room."
Mark took the board with the bacon on it; and went to the hut. He cameback with a mug full of ale, saying they had better drink it before itgot quite stale.
"We must shoot something," said Bevis. "We can't eat much of thatstuff."
"Let's go round the island," said Mark, "and see if there's anythingabout. Parrots, perhaps."
"Pigeon-pie," said Bevis.
"Parrot-pie; just the thing."
"Hammer Pan, or he'll run on first and spoil everything."
Volume Two, Chapter XV.
NEW FORMOSA--FIRST DAY.
Bevis lit the match, and they went quietly into the wood. Pan had to hehammered now and then to restrain him from rushing into the brambles.They knew the way now very well, having often walked round whilebuilding the hut looking for poles, and had trampled out a rough pathwinding about the thorns. The shooting at the teak-tree and the noiseof Pan's barking had alarmed all the parrots; and though they looked outover the water in several places, no wild-fowl were to be seen.
As they came round under the group of cedars to the other side of theisland Mark remembered the great jack or pike which he had seen there,almost as big as a shark. They went very softly, and peering round ablue gum bush, saw the jack basking in the sun, but a good way fromshore, just at the edge of some weeds. The sunshine illumined the stillwater, and they could see him perfectly, his long cruel jaws, hisgreenish back and white belly, and powerful tail.
Drawing back behind the blue gum, Bevis prepared the matchlock, blow thematch so that the fire might be ready on it, opened the pan, and pushedthe priming up to the touch-hole, from which it had been shaken as hewalked, and then advanced the staff or rest to the edge of the bush. Heput the heavy barrel on it, and knelt down. The muzzle of the longmatchlock protruded through the leafy boughs.
"Ball cartridge," whispered Mark, holding Pan by the collar. "Steady."
"All right."
Bevis aimed up the barrel, the strands of wire rather interfered withhis aim, and the glance passed from one of these to the other, ratherthan along the level of the barrel. The last strand hid the end of thebarrel altogether. It wanted a sight. He looked along, and got the gunstraight for the fish, aiming at the broadest part of the side; then heremembered that a fish is really lower in the water than it appears, anddepressed the muzzle till it pointed beneath the under-line of the jack.
Double-barrel guns with their hammers which fall in the fiftieth of asecond, driven by a strong spring directly the finger touches thetrigger, translate the will into instant action. The gunner snatchesthe second when his gun is absolutely straight, and the shot flies toits destination before the barrel can deviate the thirty-second part ofan inch. When Bevis's finger first pressed the trigger of the matchlockhe had the barrel of his gun accurately pointed. But while he pulledthe match down to the pan an appreciable moment of time intervened; andhis mind too--so swift is its operation--left the fish, his mark andobject, and became expectant of the explosion. The match touched thepriming. Puff!
So infinitely rapid is the mind, so far does it outstrip gunpowder, thatthe flash from the pan and its tiny smoke seemed to Bevis to occur quitea little time before the great discharge, and in that little time hismind left the barrel, and came to look at the tiny puff of smoke.
Bang! the ball rushed forth, but not now in the course it would havetaken had a hair-trigger and a spring instantly translated his originalwill into action. In these momentary divisions of time which hadelapsed since he settled his aim, the long barrel, resting on the staffand moving easily on its pivot, had imperceptibly drooped a trifle atthe breech and risen as much at the muzzle.
The ball flew high, hit the water six inches beyond the fish, and firedat so low an angle ricochetted, and went skipping along the surface,cutting out pieces of weed till the friction dragged it under, and itsank. The fish swished his tail like a scull at the stern of a boat orthe screw of a steamer, but swift as was his spring forward, he wouldnot have escaped had not the ball gone high. He left an undulation onthe surface as he dived unhurt.
Bevis stamped his foot to think he had missed again.
"It was the water," said Mark. "The bullet went duck and drake; I sawit."
He was too just to recall the fact of his having hit the teak-tree, thetree was so much larger than the fish. As he did not recall his successat the tree, Bevis's irritation went no farther.
"We must have a top-sight," he said.
"We won't use bullets again till we have a sight."
"No, we won't. But I'm sure I had the gun straight."
"So we had the rifle straight, but it did not hit."
"No, no more did it. There's something peculiar in bullets--we willfind out. I wanted that jack for supper."
As they had not brought the powder-horn with them, they walked back tothe hut.
"It's not the gun's fault, I'm sure," said Mark. "It shoots beautiful;it's my turn next."
"Yes; you shall shoot. O! no, it's not the gun. They can shootsparrows in India with a single bal
l," said Bevis; "and matchlocks killtigers better than rifles. Matchlocks are splendid things."
"Splendid things," said Mark, stroking the stock of the gun, which henow carried on his shoulder, as if it had been a breathing pet thatcould appreciate his affection.
"This is a curious groove," said Bevis, looking at the score in the barkof the teak where Mark's bullet had struck it. "Look, it goes a littleround; the bullet stuck to the tree and went a little way round, insteadof just coming straight, so."
"So it did," said Mark. "It curved round the tree."
"My arrow would have glanced off just the other way," said Bevis, "if ithad hit here."
"The ball goes one way and the arrow the other."
"One sticks to the tree as long as it can and the other shoots asidedirectly."
Bullets have been known in like manner to strike a man's head in thefront part and score a track half round it, and even then not do muchinjury.
"We ought to keep the gun loaded," said Mark, as they reached the hut.
"Yes; but it ought to be slung up, and not put anywhere where it mightbe knocked over."
"Let's make some slings for it."
After loading the gun this time with a charge of shot, and ramming ithome with the brass ramrod--Mark enjoyed using the ramrod too much tohurry over it--they set to work and drove two stout nails into theuprights on the opposite side to the bed. To one of these nails a loopof cord was fastened; to the other a similar piece was tied at one end,the other had a lesser loop, so as to take on or off the nail. When offit hung down, when on it made a loop like the other. The barrel of thegun was put through the first loop, and the stock then held up while theother piece of cord was hitched to its nail, when the long gun hungsuspended.
"It looks like a hunter's hut now," said Bevis, contemplating thematchlock. "I'll put my bow in the corner." He leaned his bow in thecorner, and put a sheaf of arrows by it.
"My spear will go here," said Mark.
"No," said Bevis. "Put the spear by the bee head."
"Ready for use in the night?"
"Yes; put a knobstick too. That's it. Now look."
"Doesn't it look nice?"
"Just doesn't it!"
"Real hunting."
"Real as real."
"If Val, and Cecil, and Ted could see!"
"And Charlie."
"They would go wild."
"The store-room _is_ a muddle."
"Shall we put it straight?"
"And get things ship-shape?"
"Yes."
They began to assort the heaped-up mass of things in the cave, puttingtools on one side, provisions on the other, and odd things in thecentre. After awhile Mark looked up at his watch.
"Why, it's past five! Tea time at home."
"I don't know," said Bevis. "I expect the time's different--it'slongitude."
"We are hours later, then?"
"While it's tea time here, it's breakfast there."
"When we go to bed, they get up. Here's the astrolabe. Take theobservation."
"So I will."
The sun was lower now, just over the tops of the trees. Bevis hung thecircle to the gate-post of the stockade and moved the tube till he couldsee the sun through it. It read 20 degrees on the graduated disc.
"Twenty degrees north latitude," he said. "It's not on the equator."
"But it's in the tropics."
"O, yes!--it's in Cancer, right enough. It's better than the Equator:they are obliged to lie still there all day long; and it's all swampsand steaming moisture and fevers and malaria."
"Much nicer here."
"O! Much nicer."
"How lucky! This island is put just right."
"The very spot!"
"There ought to be a ditch outside the palisade," said Mark. "Like theyhave outside tents to run the water away when it rains. I've seen themround tents."
"So there ought. We'll dig it."
They fetched the spades and shovelled away half an hour, but it was verywarm, and they sat down presently inside the fence, which began to casta shadow.
"We ought to have some blacks to do this sort of work," said Mark.
"White people can't slave in the tropics," said Bevis. "Let's donothing now for a while."
"Lemonade," said Mark. Bevis nodded; and Mark fetched and opened abottle, then another.
"There are only four left," he said.
"A ship ought to come every year with these kind of things," said Bevis.
"It ought to be wrecked, and then we could get the best things from thewreck. Shall we do some more shooting?"
"Practising. We ought to practise with ball; but we said we would nottill we had a sight."
"But it's loaded with shot, and it's my turn; and there's nothing forsupper, or dinner to-morrow."
"No more there is. One thing, though, if we practise shooting, we shallfrighten all the birds away."
"Ducks," said Mark, "flappers and coots, and moorhens, they're all aboutin the evening. The sun's going down: let's shoot one."
"Very well."
Mark got down the matchlock, and lit the match. He went first, andBevis followed, two or three yards behind, with Pan. They walked asquietly as possible along the path they had made round the island,glancing out over the water at intervals. As they approached the otherend of the island, where the ground was low and thick with reed-grassand sedges, they moved still more gently. They saw two young ducks, butthey were too far; and whether they heard or suspected something swam inamong a bed of rushes on a shoal. Mark stooped, and went down to thewater's edge. Bevis stooped and followed, and there they set up the gunon the rest, hidden behind the fringe of sedges and reed-grass they hadleft when cutting them for the roof.
The muzzle almost, but not quite, protruded through the sedges, and theysat down to wait on some of the dry grasses they had reaped, but did notcarry, not requiring all they had cut. The ground so near the edge wassoft and yielding, and this dry hay of sedge and flag better to sit on.Bevis held Pan by the collar, and they waited a long time while the sunsank to the north-westwards, almost in front, of them.
"No twilight in the tropics," whispered Mark.
"But there's the moon," said Bevis. The moon being about half full, wasalready high in the sky, and her light continued the glow of the sunset.Restless as they were, they sat still, and took the greatest care inslightly changing their positions for ease not to rustle the dry sedges.Pan did not like it, but he reconciled himself after awhile. PresentlyMark, who was nearest the standing sedges, leaned forward and moved thegun, Bevis glanced over his shoulder and saw a young wild duck among theweeds by the shoal. "Too far," he whispered. It looked a long way.Mark did not answer; he was aiming. Puff--bang! Bow-wow! Pan was inthe water, dashing through the smoke before they could tell whether theshot had taken effect or not. The next moment they saw the duckstruggling and splashing unable to dive. "Lu--lu!"
"Go on, Pan!"
"Catch him!"
"Fetch him!"
"He's got him!"
"He's in the weeds."
"Look--he can't get back--the duck drags in the weeds."
"Pan! Pan! Here--here!"
"He can't do it."
"He's caught."
"He'll sink."
"Not he."
"But he will."
"No."
After striving his hardest to bring the duck back through the thickweeds, Pan suddenly turned and swam to the shoal where the rushes grew.There he landed and stood a moment with the duck's neck in his mouth:the bird still flapped and struggled.
"Here--here!" shouted Bevis, running along to attract the spaniel to aplace where the weeds looked thinner. Mark whistled: Pan plunged inagain; and this time, having learned the strength of the weeds, he swamout round them and laid the bird at their feet.
"It's a beauty."
"Look at his webbed feet!"
"But he's not very big!"
"But he's a you
ng one."
"Of course: the feathers are very pretty."
"He kicks still."
"Kill him. There; now we must pluck him this evening. Some of thefeathers will do for Frances."
"O! Frances! She's no use," said Mark, carrying his bird by the legs.
The head hung down, and Pan licked it. Plucking they found a tediousbusiness. Each tried in turn till they were tired, and still thereseemed no end to the feathers.
"There are thousands of them," said Bevis.
"Just as if they could not have a skin."
"But the feathers are prettier."
"Well, you try now."
Bevis plucked awhile. Then Mark tried again. This was in the courtyardof the hut. The moonlight had now quite succeeded to the day. By thewatch it was past nine. Out of doors it was light, but in the hut Bevishad to strike a match to see the time.
"It's supper-time," he said.
"Now they
Bevis: The Story of a Boy Page 58