Bevis: The Story of a Boy
Page 74
repeating "Threeo'clock, three o'clock, three o'clock," at first aloud and then tohimself, so as to set the clock of his mind to wake him at that hour.Not long after they were asleep, Pan as usual went out for his ramble.
Bevis's clock duly woke him about three, and lifting his head he couldsee the light through the chinks of the curtain, but he was halfinclined to go to sleep again, and stayed another quarter of an hour.Then he resolutely bent himself to conquer sleep, slipped off the bed,and put on his boots quietly, not to wake Mark. Taking the matchlock,he went out and found that it was light, the light of the moon minglingwith the dawn, but it was misty. A dry vapour, which left no dew,filled the wood so that at a short distance the path seemed to go intoand lose itself in the mist.
Bevis went all round the island, following the path they had made. Onthe Serendib side he neither saw nor heard anything, but as he came backup the other shore, a lark began to sing far away on the mainland, andafterwards he heard the querulous cry of a peewit. He walked verycautiously, for this was the most likely side to find a heron, butwhether they heard his approach or saw him, for they can see almost asfar as a man when standing, by lifting their long necks, he did not findany. When he reached the spot where the "blaze" began that led toKangaroo Hill, he fancied he saw something move in the water a long wayoff through the mist.
He stopped behind a bush and watched, and in a minute he was sure it wassomething, perhaps a cluck. He set up the rest, blew the match, openedthe lid of the pan, knelt down and looked along the barrel till he hadgot it in a line with the object. If the gun had been loaded with shothe would have fired at once, for though indistinct through the vapour hethought it was within range, but as he had ball, he wanted to see if itwould come nearer, as he knew he could not depend on a bullet overthirty yards. Intent on the object, which seemed to be swimming, hebegan to be curious to know what it was, for it had now come a littlecloser, and he could see it was not a duck, for it had no neck; it wastoo big for a rat: it must be the creature that visited the island andtook their food--the idea of shooting this animal and surprising Markwith it delighted him.
He aimed along the barrel, and got the sight exactly on the creature,then he thought he would let it get a few yards closer, then hedepressed the muzzle just a trifle, remembering that it was comingtowards him, and if he did not aim somewhat in front the ball would goover.
Now it was near enough he was sure--he aimed steadily, and his fingerbegan to draw the match down when he caught sight of the creature's eye.It was Pan.
"Pan!" said Bevis. He got up, and the spaniel swam steadily towardshim.
"Where have you been, sir?" he said sternly. Pan crouched at his feet,not even shaking himself first. "You rascal--where have you been?"
Bevis was inclined to thrash him, he was so angry at the mistake he hadalmost made, angry with the dog because he had almost shot him. But Pancrouched so close to the ground under his very feet that he did notstrike him.
"It was you who frightened the herons," he said. Pan instantlyrecognised the change in the tone of his voice, and sprang up, jumpedround, barked, and then shook the water from his shaggy coat. It was nouse evidently now to think of shooting a heron, the spaniel had alarmedthem and Bevis returned to the hut. He woke Mark, and told him.
"That's why he's so lazy in the morning," said Mark. "Don't yourecollect? He sleeps all the morning."
"And won't eat anything."
"I believe he's been home," said Mark. "Very likely Polly throws thebones out still by his house."
"That's it: you old glutton!" said Bevis.
Pan jumped on the bed, licked Mark, then jumped on Bevis's knees,leaving the marks of his wet paws, to which the sand had adhered, thenhe barked and wagged his tail as much as to say, "Am I not clever?"
"O! yes," said Mark, "you're very knowing, but you won't do that again."
"No, that you won't, sir," said Bevis. "You'll be tied up to-night."
"Tight as tight," said Mark. "Just think," said Bevis. "He must haveswum all down the channel we came up on the catamaran. Why it's ahundred and fifty yards--"
"Or two hundred--only some of it is shallow. Perhaps he could bottomsome part--"
"But not very far--and then run all the way home, and then all the wayback, and then swim off again."
"A regular voyage--and every night too."
"You false old greedy Pan!"
"To leave us when we thought you were watching while we slept."
"To desert your post, you faithless sentinel." Pan looked from one tothe other, as if he understood every word; he rolled up the whites ofhis eyes and looked so pious, they burst into fits of laughter. Panwagged his tail and barked doubtfully; he had a shrewd suspicion theywere laughing at him, and he did not like it. In fact, it was not onlythe flesh-pots that had attracted Pan from his post and led him totraverse the sea and land, and undergo such immense exertion, it was tospeak to a friend of his.
They thought it of no use to go to sleep again now, so they lit thefire, and prepared the breakfast. By the time it was ready the mist hadbegun to clear; the sky became blue overhead, and while they weresitting at table under the awning, the first beams shot along overSerendib to their knees. Bevis said after breakfast he should practisewith the matchlock, till he could hit something with the bullets. Markwanted to explore the unknown river, and this they agreed to do, but thedifficulty, as usual, was the dinner, there was nothing in their larderbut bacon for rashers, and that was almost gone. Rashers becomewearisome, ten times more wearisome when you have to cook them too.
Bevis said he must write his letter home--he was afraid he might havedelayed too long--and take it to Loo to post that night, then he wouldwrite out a list of things, and Loo could buy them in the town, pottedmeats, and tongues, and soups, that would save cooking, only it was notquite proper. But Mark got over that difficulty by supposing that theyfetched them from the wreck before it went to pieces.
So having had their swim, Bevis set up his target--a small piece ofpaper with a black spot, an inch in diameter, inked in the centre--onthe teak, and fired his first shot at forty yards. The ball missed theteak-tree altogether, they heard it crash into a bramble bush some waybeyond. Bevis went five yards nearer next time, and the bullet hit thetree low down, two feet beneath the bull's-eye. Then he tried at thirtyyards, and as before, when he practised, the ball hit the tree five orsix inches lower than the mark. He tried four times at this distance,and every time the bullet struck beneath, so that it seemed as if thegun threw the ball low.
Some guns throw shot high, and some low, and he supposed the matchlockthrew low. So he aimed the fifth time above the centre, and the ballgrazed the bark of the tree on the right-hand side very much as Mark'shad done. Bevis stepped five yards nearer, if he could not hit it attwenty-five yards, he did not think it would be his fault. He aimeddirect at the piece of paper, which was about five inches square, butthe bullet struck three inches beneath, though nearly in a line, thatis, a line drawn down through the middle of the paper would have passeda little to the left of the bullet hole.
This was better, so now he tried five yards closer, as it appeared toimprove at every advance, and the ball now hit the paper at its lowerright-hand edge. Examining the bullet holes in the bark of the tree,and noticing they were all low and all on the right-hand side, Bevistried to think how that could be. He was quite certain that he hadaimed perfectly straight, and as he was now so accustomed to the pufffrom the priming, that did not disconcert him. He kept his gazesteadily along the barrel till the actual explosion occurred, and thesmoke from the muzzle obscured the view. It must be something in thegun itself.
Bevis put it on the rest unloaded, aimed along, and pulled the trigger,just as he would have done had he been really about to shoot. Nothingseemed wrong. As the heavy barrel was supported by the rest, and thestock pressed firm to his shoulder, pulling the trigger did not depressthe muzzle as it often does with rifles.
He aimed again, and all a
t once he saw that the top sight must be thecause. The twisted wire was elevated about an eighth of an inch, andwhen he aimed he got the tip of the sight to bear on the paper, so that,instead of his glance passing level along the barrel, it rose slightly,from the breech to the top of the sight. The barrel was more than ayard long, so that when the top of the sight was in a line with theobject, the muzzle was depressed exactly an eighth of an inch. Aneighth of an inch at one yard, was a quarter at two yards, three eighthsat three yards, at four half an inch, at eight it was an inch, atsixteen two inches, and at twenty-four three inches. This was verynearly enough of itself to account for the continual misses. In a gunproperly made, the breech is thicker than the muzzle, and this greaterthickness, like a slight