walkthrough once!"
"We could pole across to them."
"Of course; and then get in ambush on the mainland in the evening, andshoot another parrot, and fish--no, fishing is slow, rather. Suppose wemake a fish-spear and stick them! and stick it into the mud for eels.Could you think how to make a fish-spear, not my bone harpoon, an ironone--sharp?"
"I'll try."
"O! you can do it; and let's put up some more wires, and--I do declare,I forgot to put in some more trimmers; we might put twenty trimmers andnightlines--"
"And build a hut on Serendib to wait in in winter when the ducks come--don't you remember last winter--hundreds of them?"
"First-rate! But now to-morrow. How stupid we never brought any nets!"
"Well, that was stupid," said Bevis, still stroking his hare; he lovedthe creature he had slain. "I can't think how we forgot the nets."
"There's thousands of fish; we could haul out a boatful. Let's see,isn't there anything else we could do? Wish we had some ferrets! It'snot the right time, but still it doesn't matter."
"Perhaps we could build a fence-net," said Bevis. "I forget the propername; it's a stockade like a V, and you drive all the animals in withdogs."
"And a pit with strong spikes at the bottom in the corner. The perchare ready; move the things."
Bevis hung the hare up in the cave, but yet remained a moment to strokethe unconscious creature. The perch were very good indeed; as they werenot in a hurry the fish had been cooked better. They played cardsafterwards, discussing in the meantime various ways of killing theanimals and birds about them.
Already in one day they had got more than enough to serve them for threeor four, yet they were not satisfied. Like savages, they were hurriedon by the thirst of the chase, like the thirst for wine; their tongueswere parched with the dry sulphur fumes of powder; they hungered torepeat the wild excitement when the game was struck and hunted down.Had it been the buffaloes of the prairie, it would have been just thesame; had it been the great elephants of inner Africa, they would haveshot them down without even a thought of the ivory.
As they were fastening up Pan at the doorway before lying down theyrecollected the visit of the unknown creature on the previous night, andwent out and padlocked the gate. The matchlock was loaded with shot,which did not require so accurate an aim, and was therefore best forshooting in a hurry, and instead of being hung up it was leaned againstthe wall as more accessible, and the priming seen to. A long candle wasput in the lantern on the niche and left burning, so that if awakenedthey could see to get the gun at once. The creature went off so quicklythat not a moment must be lost in shooting if it came again, and theysaid to each other (to set the clock of their minds) that they would notstop to listen, but jump up the second they awoke if Pan barked. Thistime they thought they should be sure to see the animal at least, if notshoot it.
Volume Three, Chapter X.
NEW FORMOSA--THE TIGER FROM THE REEDS.
Pan did bark. It seemed to them that they had scarcely closed theireyes; in reality they had slept hours; and the candle had burned short.The clock of their minds being set, they were off the bed in an instant.Bevis, before his eyes were hardly open, was lighting the match of thegun; Mark had darted to the curtain at the door.
There was a thick mist and he could see nothing: in a second he snatchedout his pocket-knife (for they slept in their clothes), and cut the cordwith which Pan was fastened up just as Bevis came with the gun. Panraced for the aperture in the fence at the corner by the cliff--heperfectly howled with frantic rage as he ran and crushed himselfthrough. They were now under the open shed outside the hut, and heardPan scamper without; suddenly his howl of rage stopped, there was asecond of silence, then the dog yelled with pain. The next moment hecrept back through the fence and before he was through something hurleditself against the stockade behind him with such force that the fenceshook.
"Shoot--shoot there," shouted Mark, as the dog crept whining towardsthem. Bevis lifted the gun, but paused.
"If the thing jumps over the fence," he said. He had but one shot, hecould not load quickly: Mark understood.
"No--no, don't shoot. Here--here's the bow."
Bevis took it and sent an arrow at the fence in the corner with suchforce that it penetrated the willow-work up to the feather. Then theyboth ran to the gate and looked over. All this scarcely occupied aminute.
But there was nothing to see. The thick white mist concealed everythingbut the edge of the brambles near the stockade, and the tops of thetrees farther away.
"Nothing," said Mark. "What was it?"
"Shall we go out?" said Bevis.
"No--not till we have seen it."
"It would be better not--we can't tell."
"You can shoot as it jumps the fence," said Mark, "if it comes: it willstop a minute on the top."
Unless they can clear a fence, animals pause a moment on the top beforethey leap down. They went back to the open shed with a feeling that itwould be best to be some way inside the fence, and so have a view of thecreature before it sprang. Mark picked up an axe, for he had no weaponbut a second arrow which he had in his hand: the axe was the mosteffective weapon there was after the gun. They stood under the shed,watching the top of the stockade and waiting.
Till now they had looked upon the unknown as a stealthy thief only, butwhen Pan recoiled they knew it must be something more.
"It might jump down from the cliff," said Bevis.
While they watched the semi-circular fence in front the creature mightsteal round to the cliff and leap down on the roof of the hut. Markstepped out and looked along the verge of the sand cliff. He could seeup through the runners of the brambles which hung over the edge, andthere was nothing there. Looking up like this he could see the palestars above the mist. It was not a deep mist--it was like a layer onthe ground, impenetrable to the eye longitudinally, but partiallytransparent vertically. Returning inside, Mark stooped and examinedPan, who had crept at their heels. There were no scratches on him.
"He's not hurt," said Mark. "No teeth or claws."
"But he had a pat, didn't he?"
"I thought so--how he yelled! But you look, there's no blood. Perhapsthe thing hit him without putting its claws out."
"They slip out when they strike," said Bevis, meaning that as wildbeasts strike their claws involuntarily extend from the sheaths. Helooked, Pan was not hurt; Mark felt his ribs too, and said that nonewere broken. There were no fragments of fur or hair about his mouth, noremnants of a struggle.
"I don't believe he fought at all," said Bevis. "He stopped--he neverwent near."
"Very likely: now I remember--he stopped barking all at once; he wasafraid!"
"That was it: but he yelled--"
"It must have been fright," said Mark. "Nothing touched him: Pan, whatwas it?"
Pan wagged his tail once, once only: he still crouched and kept close tothem. Though patted and reassured, his spirit had been too much brokento recover rapidly. The spaniel was thoroughly cowed.
"It came very near," said Bevis. "It hit the fence while he was gettingthrough."
"It must have missed him--perhaps it was a long jump. Did you hearanything rush off."
"No."
"No more did I."
"Soft pads," said Bevis, "they make no noise like hoofs."
"No, that was it: and it's sandy too." Sand "gives" a little anddeadens the sound of footsteps.
"Let's go and look again."
"So we will."
They went to the gate--Pan, they noticed did not follow--and looked overagain: this time longer and more searchingly. They could see the groundfor a few yards, and then the mist obscured it like fleece amongbrambles.
"Pan's afraid to come," said Mark, as they went back to the shed.
"The fire ought to be lit," said Bevis. "They are afraid of fire."
"You watch," said Mark, "and I'll light it."
He drew on his boots, and put on his coat-
-for they ran out in waistcoatand trousers--then he held the gun, while Bevis did the same; then Bevistook it, and Mark hastily gathered some sticks together and lit them,often glancing over his shoulder at the fence behind, and with the axealways ready to his hand. When the flames began to rise they felt moreat ease; they knew that wild beasts dislike fire, and somehow fire warmsthe spirit as well as the body. The morning was warm enough, they didnot need a fire, but the sight of the twisted tongues as they curledspirally and broke away was restorative as the heat is to actual bodilychill. Bevis went near: even the spaniel felt it, he shook himself andseemed more cheerful.
"The
Bevis: The Story of a Boy Page 80