Bevis: The Story of a Boy

by Richard Jefferies

not seem quite himself, he looked as if he had donesomething out of the common and could not tell them.

  "Was it a crocodile?" said Mark, stroking him. Pan whined, as much asto say, "I wish I could tell you," and then to give vent to hisexcitement he rushed into the wood.

  Volume Three, Chapter III.

  NEW FORMOSA--NO HOPE OF RETURNING.

  After fastening the raft they returned towards the hut, for they werehungry now, and knew it was late, when Pan set up such a tremendousbarking that they first listened, and then went to see. The noise ledthem to the green knoll where the rabbit burries were, and they saw Panrunning round under the great oak thickly grown with ivy, in which Bevishad seen the wood-pigeons alight.

  They went to the oak, it was very large and old, the branches partlydead and hung with ivy; they walked round and examined the ground, butcould see no trace of anything. Mark hurled a fragment of a dead boughup into the ivy, it broke and came rustling down again, but nothing flewout. There did not seem to be anything in the tree.

  "The squirrels," said Bevis, suddenly remembering.

  "Why, of course," said Mark. "How stupid of us--Pan, you're a donk."

  They left the oak and again went homewards: now Pan had been quite quietwhile they were looking on the ground and up into the tree, but directlyhe understood that they had given up the search he set up barking againand would not follow. At the hut Bevis went in to cut some rashers fromthe bacon which had not been cooked and Mark ran up on the cliff to seethe time.

  It was already two o'clock--the work on the raft and the voyage toSerendib had taken up the morning. Bevis showed Mark where some micehad gnawed the edge of the uncooked bacon which had been lying in thestore-room on the top of a number of thing's. Mark said once he found atomtit on the shelf pecking at the food they had left there, just like atomtit's impudence!

  "Rashers are very good," said Bevis, "if you haven't got to cook them."It was his turn, and he was broiling himself as well as the bacon.

  "Macaroni eats his raw," said Mark. They had often seen John Youngeating thick slices of raw bacon in the shed as he sat at luncheon."Horrible cannibal--he's worse than Pan, who won't touch it cooked."

  He looked outside the gate--there was the slice of the cooked baconBevis had cut for the spaniel lying on the ground. Pan had not eventaken the trouble to put it in his larder. But something else hadgnawed at it.

  "A rat's been here," said Mark. "Don't you remember the jack's head?"

  "And mice in the cave," said Bevis.

  "And a tomtit on the shelf."

  "And a robin on the table."

  "And a wagtail was in the court yesterday."

  "A wren comes on the stockade."

  "Spiders up there," said Mark, pointing to the corner of the hut wherethere was a web.

  "Tarantulas," said Bevis, "and mosquitoes in the evening."

  "Everything comes to try and eat us up," said Mark.

  The moment man takes up his residence all the creatures of the woodthrong round him, attracted by the crumbs from his hand, or the spoilthat his labour affords. Hawks dart down on his poultry, weasels creepin to the hen's eggs, mice traverse the house, rats hasten round thesty, snakes come in for the milk, spiders for the flies, flies for thesugar, toads crawl into the cellar, snails trail up the wall, gnatsarrive in the evening, robins, wrens, tomtits, wagtails enter thecourtyard, starlings and sparrows nest in the roof, swallows in thechimney, martins under the eaves, rabbits in the garden among thepotatoes--a favourite cover with all game--blackbirds to thecherry-trees, bullfinches to the fruit-buds, tomtits take the very beeseven, cats and dogs are a matter of course, still they live on man'slabour.

  The sandy spot by the cliff had not been frequented by anything till thecave was made and the hut built, and already the mice were with them,and while Mark was saying that everything came to eat them up a waspflew under the awning and settled on the table.

  "Frances ought to do this," said Bevis, hot and cross, as amateur cooksalways are. "Here, give me some mushrooms, they'll be nice. Don't youwish she was here?"

  "Frances!" said Mark in a tone of horror. "No, that I don't!"

  In the afternoon they did nothing but wait for Charlie's signal, whichhe faithfully gave, and then they idled about till tea. Pan did notcome back till tea, and then he wagged his tail and looked verymysterious.

  "What have you been doing, sir?" said Bevis. Pan wagged and wagged andgobbled up all the buttered damper they gave him.

  "Now, just see," said Mark. He got up and cut a slice of the coldhalf-cooked bacon from the shelf. Pan took it, rolled his great browneyes, showing the whites at the corners, wagged his tail very short likethe pendulum of a small clock, and walked outside the gate with it.Then he came back and begged for more buttered damper.

  After tea they worked again at the raft, putting in the bulwarks andcarried the chest down to it for the locker. For a sail they meant touse the rug which was now hung up for an awning, and to put up a roofthatched with sedges in its place. The sun sank before they hadfinished, and they then got the matchlock--it was Mark's day--and wentinto ambush by the glade to see if they could shoot another rabbit. Panhad to be tied and hit once or twice, he wanted to race after thesquirrels.

  They sat quiet in ambush till they were weary, and the moon was shiningbrightly, but the rabbits did not venture out. The noise Pan had madebarking after the squirrels had evidently alarmed them, and they couldnot forget it.

  "Very likely he's been scratching at the burries too," whispered Bevis,as the little bats flew round the glade, passing scarcely a yard infront of them like large flies. "He shan't leave us again like he didthis afternoon."

  It was of no use to stay there any longer, so they went quietly roundthe shore of the island, and seeing something move at the edge of theweeds, though they could not distinguish what, for the willow boughshung over, Mark aimed and fired. At the report they heard water-fowlscuttling away, and running to the spot Pan brought out two moorhens,one quite dead and the other wounded.

  "There," said Bevis, "you've shot every single thing."

  "Well, why don't you use shot?--you'll never kill anything withbullets."

  "But I will," said Bevis; "I will hit something with bullets. Thepeople in India can hit a sparrow, why can't I? It's my turnto-morrow."

  But after supper, bringing out his journal, he found to-morrow wasSunday.

  "No, I can't shoot till Monday. Mamma would not like shooting onSunday."

  "No--nor chopping."

  "No," said Bevis, "we mustn't do any work."

  All the while they were on the island they were, in principle,disobedient, and crossing the wishes of the home authorities. Yet theyresolved not to shoot on the Sunday, because the people at home wouldnot like it. When Bevis had entered the launching of the raft and thevoyage to Serendib in the journal, they skinned the moorhens andprepared them for cooking.

  "This cooking is horrible," said Mark.

  "Hateful," said Bevis; "I told you we ought to have Frances."

  "O! no; she would want her own way. She wants everything just as shelikes, and if she can't have it, she won't do anything."

  "There, it's done," said Bevis. "What we want is a slave."

  "Of course--two or three slaves, to work and chop wood, and fetch thewater."

  "Hit them if they don't," said Bevis.

  "Like we hit Pan."

  "Tie them to a tree and lash them."

  "Hard."

  "Harder."

  "Great marks on their backs."

  "Howling!"

  "Jolly!"

  They played two games at bezique under the awning, and drank the lastdrop of sherry mixed with water.

  "Everything's going," said Bevis. "There's no more sherry, and morethan half the flour's gone, and Pan had the last bit of butter on thedamper at tea--"

  "There ought to be roots on the island," said Mark. "People eat rootson islands."

  "Don't think there are a
ny here," said Bevis. "This island is too oldfor any to grow; it's like Australia, a kind of grey-bearded place withnothing but kangaroos."

  Soon afterwards they drew down the curtain and went to sleep. As usual,Pan waited till they were firm asleep, and then slipped out into themoonlight. He was lounging in the courtyard when they got up. By thesun-dial it was eight, and having had breakfast, and left the firebanked up under ashes--wood embers keep alight a long time like that--they went down to bathe.

  "How quiet it is!" said Mark. "I