destroyed by the winds.
During the frost a blackbird had roosted in a corner of the hut underthe rafters, sparrows too had sought its shelter, and wrens andblue-tits had crept into the crevices of the eaves. Next they went upon the cliff, the sun-dial stood as they had left it, but the sun wasnow down.
From the height, where they could hardly stand against the wind, theysaw a figure afar on the green hill by the sycamores, which they knewmust be Big Jack waiting for them to return. Walking back to the Pintathey passed under the now leafless teak-tree marked and scored by thebullets they had fired at it.
Before embarking they baled out the water in the boat, and then inclinedher, first one side and then the other, to see if she had sprung a leak,but she had not. The ice-bow was then hoisted on board, as it would nolonger be required, and would impede their sailing. Frances stepped in,and Bevis and Mark settled themselves to row out of the channel. Withsuch a wind it was impossible to tack in the narrow strait between theislands. They had to pull their very hardest to get through. So soonas they had got an offing the sculls were shipped, and the sailshoisted, but before they could get them to work they were blown backwithin thirty yards of the cliff. Then the sails drew, and they forgedahead.
It was the roughest voyage they had ever had. The wind was dead againstthem, and no matter on which tack every wave sent its spray, andsometimes the whole of its crest over the bows. The shock sometimesseemed to hold the Pinta in mid-career, and her timbers trembled. Thenshe leaped forward and cut through, showering the spray aside. Franceslaughed and sang, though the words were inaudible in the hiss and roarand the rush of the gale through the rigging, and the sharp, whip-likecracks of the fluttering pennant.
The velocity of their course carried them to and fro the darkeningwaters in a few minutes, but the dusk fell quickly, and by the time theyhad reached Fir-Tree Gulf, where they could get a still longer "leg" ortack, the evening gloom had settled down. Big Jack stood on the shore,and beckoned them to come in: they could easily have landed Francesunder the lee of the hill, but she said she should go all the way now.So they tacked through the Mozambique, past Thessaly and the bluff, thewaves getting less in size as they approached the northern shore, tillthey glided into the harbour. Jack had walked round and met them. Heheld out his hand, and Frances sprang ashore. "How _could_ you?" hesaid, in a tone of indignant relief. To him it had looked a terriblerisk.
"Why it was splendid!" said Frances, and they went on together towardsLongcot. Bevis and Mark stayed to furl sails, and leave the Pintaship-shape. By the time they had finished it was already dark: thenight had come.
On their way home they paused a moment under the great oak at the top ofthe Home Field, and looked back. The whole south burned with stars.There was a roar in the oak like the thunder of the sea. The sky wasblack, black as velvet, the black north had come down, and the starsshone and burned as if the wind reached and fanned them into flame.
Large Sirius flashed; vast Orion strode the sky, lording the heavenswith his sword. A scintillation rushed across from the zenith to thesouthern horizon. The black north held down the buds, but there was aforce in them already that must push out in leaf as Arcturus rose in theEast. Listening to the loud roar of the oak as the strength of thenorth wind filled them,--
"I should like to go straight to the real great sea like the wind," saidMark.
"We _must_ go to the great sea," said Bevis. "Look at Orion!"
The wind went seawards, and the stars are always over the ocean.
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The End.
Bevis: The Story of a Boy Page 97