CHAPTER SIX.
THE DEPARTING FLOOD.
The water sank slowly and steadily, leaving dry patches here and thereall over the fen; but the lake-like parts far exceeded the dry land, andtwo or three fields still contained so much water that the squire setmen to work to cut a drain to carry it away.
"Kill two birds with one stone, Dick," he said. "It will be useful byand by."
At the time Dick did not understand what his father meant; but it wassoon evident when all hands were hard at work cutting down through thepeat to make the dyke. For, instead of digging in the ordinary way, themen carefully cut down through what was not earth, but thickwell-compressed black peat, each piece, about ten inches square andthree or four thick, to be carefully laid up like so much open brickworkto drain and dry.
Good store for the next winter's fuel, for it was peat of fine qualitystored up by nature ages before, and not the soft brown mossy stufffound in many places, stuff that burns rapidly away and gives out hardlyany heat. This peat about the Toft was coal's young relative, andburned slowly into a beautiful creamy ash, giving out a glow of warmththat was wanted there when the wind blew from the northern sea.
The two lads watched the process with interest--not that it was anythingnew, for they had seen it done a hundred times; but they had nothingelse to do that morning, having tired themselves of gazing at the flocksof birds which passed over to the feeding grounds laid bare by thesinking water. It had been interesting to watch them, but Dave had notkept his word about the netting; the decoy had not been worked; andgunning was reserved for those of elder growth. So that morning, thoughthe great lakes and canals among the reeds were dotted with birds, thelads were patiently watching the cutting of the little drain.
Six men were busy, and making steady progress, for the peat cut easily,the sharp-edged tools going through it like knives, while the leader ofthe gang busied himself from time to time by thrusting down asharp-pointed iron rod, which always came in contact with sand andgravel a few feet down.
"No roots, my lad?" said the squire, coming up.
"No, mester," said the labourer. "I don't think--well, now, only thinkof that!"
He was thrusting down the iron rod as he spoke, and the point stuck intosomething that was not sand or gravel, while upon its being thrust downagain with more force it stuck fast, and required a heavy jerk to dragit out.
"That seems to be a good one," said the squire, as the lads watched theprocess with interest.
"Shall we hev it out, mester?"
"Have it out! Oh, yes!" said the squire; and a couple of hours werespent widening the drain at that part, so as to give the men room towork round what was the root of an old tree, just as it had been growingin the far-distant ages, before the peat began to rise over it to nineor ten feet in thickness.
It was a long job, and after the great stump had been laid bare, axeshad to be used to divide some of the outlying roots before it wasfinally dragged out by the whole force that could be collected by thehole, and finally lay upon the side.
"Just like the others, Dick. There must have been a tremendous firehere at one time."
"And burned the whole forest down?"
"Burned the whole of the trees down to the stumps, my lad, and then thepeat gradually formed over the roots, and they've lain there till wecome and dig them out for firewood."
"And they haven't rotted, father, although they have been under the peatand water all this time."
"No, my boy; the peat is a preservative. Nothing seems to decay underthe peat. Why, you ought to have known that by now."
"I suppose I ought," said Dick rather dolefully, for he was beginning towake up to the fact of what an enormous deal there was in the world thathe did not know.
As he spoke, he picked up some of the red chips of the pine-root whichhad been sent flying by the strokes of the axe, to find that they werefull of resin, smelling strongly of turpentine.
"Yes, it's full of it," said the squire; "that's one reason why the woodhas kept without rotting. Here you two boys may as well do somethingfor your bread and butter."
Dick said something to himself answering to nineteenth-century Bother!and awaited his father's orders.
"You can drag that root up to the yard. Get a rope round it and haul.Humph, no! it will be too heavy for you alone. Leave it."
"Yes, father," said Dick with a sigh of relief, for it was more pleasantto stand watching the men cutting the peat and the birds flying over, orto idle about the place, than to be dragging along a great sodden massof pine-root.
"Stop!" cried the squire. "I don't want the men to leave their work.Go and fetch the ass, and harness him to it. You three donkeys can dragit up between you."
The boys laughed.
"I'm going up the river bank. Get it done before I get back."
"Yes, father," cried Dick. "Come along, Tom."
The task was now undertaken with alacrity, for there was somehow asuggestion to both of the lads of something in the nature of fun, inconnection with getting the ass to drag that great root.
The companions ran along by the boggy field toward the farm buildings onthe Toft, to seek out the old grey donkey, who was at that momentcontemplatively munching some hay in a corner of the big yard, in whosestone walls, were traces of carving and pillar with groin and arch.
Now some people once started the idea that a donkey is a very stupidanimal; and, like many more such theories, that one has been handed downto posterity, and believed in as a natural history fact, while donkey orass has become a term of reproach for those not blessed with too muchbrain.
Winthorpe's donkey was by no means a stupid beast, and being thoroughlyimbued with the idea that it was a slave's duty to do as little work ashe possibly could for those who held him in bonds, he made a point ofgetting out of the way whenever he scented work upon the wind.
He was a grey old gentleman, whose years were looked upon as tremendous;and as he stood in the corner of the yard munching hay, he now and thenscratched his head against an elaborately carved stone bracket in thewall which took the form of a grotesque face.
Then his jaws stopped, and it was evident that he scented something, forhe raised his head slightly. Then he swung one great ear round, andthen brought up the other with a sharp swing till they were both cockedforward and he listened attentively.
A minute before, and he was a very statue of a donkey, but after a fewmoments' attentive listening he suddenly became full of action, andsetting up his tail he trotted round the yard over the rotten peat andling that had been cut and tossed in, to be well trampled before mixingwith straw and ploughing into the ground. He changed his pace to agallop, and then, still growing more excited, he made straight for therough gate so as to escape.
But the gate was fastened, though not so securely but that it enteredinto a donkey's brain that he might undo that fastening, as he had oftenundone it before, and then deliberately walked off into the fen, wheresucculent thistles grew.
This time, however, in spite of the earnest way in which he applied histeeth, he could not get that fastening undone; and, after striking at itviciously with his unshod hoof, he reared up, as if to leap over, butcontented himself with resting his fore-legs on the rough top rail, andlooking over at the free land he could not reach; and he was in thisattitude when the two lads came up.
"Hullo, Solomon!" cried Dick. "Poor old fellow, then! Did you knowwe'd come for you?"
The donkey uttered a discordant bray which sounded like the blowingbadly of a trumpet of defiance, and backing away, he trotted to the farend of the yard, and thrust his head into a corner.
"Where's the harness?" said Tom.
"In the stone barn," was the reply; and together the lads fetched therough harness of old leather and rope, with an extra piece for fasteningabout the root.
"I say, Dick, he won't kick that root to pieces like he did the littletumbril," said Tom, who for convenience had placed the collar over hisown head.
"Nor yet knock one side off like he did with the sled," replied Dickwith a very vivid recollection of one of Solomon's feats. "Now, then,open the gate and let's pop the harness on. Stop a minute till I get astick."
"Get a thick one," said Tom.
"Pooh! he don't mind a thick stick; he rather likes it. Hicky says itloosens his skin and makes him feel comfortable. Here, this will do.Must have a long one because of his heels."
"Oh, I say, Dick, look at the old rascal; he's laughing at us!"
It really seemed as if this were the case, for as the lads entered theyard Solomon lowered his head still more in its corner, and looked atthem between his legs, baring his gums the while and showing his whiteteeth.
"Ah, I'll make him laugh--_gimble_, as old Dave calls it--if he gives usany of his nonsense! Now, you, sir, come out of that corner. Give methe collar, Tom."
As Dick relieved his friend of the collar, and held it ready to put overthe donkey's head, though they were at least a dozen yards away, Solomonbegan to kick, throwing out his heels with tremendous force and thenstamping with his fore-feet.
"Isn't he a pretty creature, Tom? He grows worse. Father won't sellhim, because, he says, he's an old friend. He has always been myenemy."
"You always whacked him so," cried Tom.
"No, I didn't; I never touched him till he began it. Of course I wantedto ride him and make him pull the sled, and you know how he ran after meand bit me on the back."
"Yes, I know that somebody must have ill-used him first."
"I tell you they didn't. He's always been petted and spoiled. Why,that day when he kicked me and sent me flying into the straw I'd gone togive him some carrots."
"But didn't you tickle him or something?"
"No, I tell you. A nasty ungrateful brute! I've given him apples andturnips and bread; one Christmas I gave him a lump of cake; but nomatter what you do, the worse he is. He's a natural savage, fathersays; and it isn't safe to go near him without a stick."
"Well, you've told me all that a dozen times," said Tom maliciously."It's only an excuse for ill-using the poor thing."
"Say that again and I'll hit you," cried Dick.
"No, you won't. Here, give me the harness again and I'll put it on,only keep back with that stick. That's what makes him vicious."
"How clever we are!" cried Dick, handing back the collar. "There: goand try."
"Ah, I'll show you!" said Tom, taking the collar with its hames andtraces attached, and going up toward the donkey, while Dick stood back,laughing.
"Take care, Tom; mind he don't bite!"
"He can't bite with his hind-legs, can he?" replied Tom. "I'll mind.Now, then, old fellow, turn round; I won't hurt you."
Solomon raised his tail to a horizontal position and held it outstiffly.
"Don't be a stupid," cried Tom; "I want your head, not your tail."
Dick burst into a roar of laughter, but Tom was not going to be beaten.
"You leave off laughing," he said, "and go farther back with that stick.That's right. Now, then, old boy, come on; turn round then."
_Whack_!
Poor Tom went backwards and came down a couple of yards away in asitting position, with the collar in his lap and an astonished look inhis countenance.
"Oh, I am sorry, Tom!" cried Dick, running up. "You, Solomon, I'll halfkill you. Are you hurt, Tom?"
"I don't know yet," said the lad, struggling up.
"Where did he kick you?" cried Dick, full of sympathy now for hisfriend.
"He didn't kick me at all," said Tom dolefully. "I was holding thecollar right out and he kicked that, but it hit me bang in the front andhurt ever so."
"Let me take the harness; I'll get it on him."
"No, I won't," cried Tom viciously. "I will do it now. Here, give methat stick."
"Why, I thought you said I ill-used him!"
"And I'll ill-use him too," said Tom savagely, "if he doesn't come andhave on his collar. Now, then, you, sir, come here," cried Tom sharply.
By this time the donkey had trotted to another corner of the yard, wherehe stood with his heels presented to his pursuers, and as first one andthen the other made a dash at his head he slewed himself round andkicked out fiercely.
"This is a nice game," cried Dick at last, when they were both gettinghot with the exercise of hunting the animal from corner to corner, andthen leaping backward or sidewise to avoid his heels, "Now, just youtell me this, who could help walloping such a brute? Hold still willyou!"
But Solomon--a name, by the way, which was given him originally from itsresemblance to "Solemn-un," the latter having been applied to him byHickathrift--refused to hold still. In fact he grew more energetic andplayful every minute, cantering round the yard and dodging his pursuersin a way which would have done credit to a well-bred pony, and thechances of getting the collar on or bit into his mouth grew more andmore remote.
"I tell you what let's do," cried Dick at last; "I'm not going to runmyself off my legs to please him. I've got it!"
"I wish you'd got the donkey," grumbled Tom. "I don't see any fun inhunting him and nearly getting kicked over the wall."
"Well, don't be in a hurry," said Dick; "I know how to manage him.Here, catch hold of this harness. I know."
"You know!" grumbled Tom, whose side was sore from the donkey's kickupon the collar. "What are you going to do?"
"You shall see," cried Dick, busying himself with the wagon rope he hadbrought, and making a loop at one end, and then putting the otherthrough it, so as to produce an easily running noose.
"What are you going to do with that?" asked Tom.
"Hold your noise," whispered Dick; "he's such an artful old wretch Idon't know that he wouldn't understand us. I'm going to make you drivehim round by me, and then I'm going to throw this over his head andcatch him."
"I don't believe you can," cried Tom.
"Well, you'll see. There, that'll do. I'm ready; take the stick andmake a rush at him. That will drive him round near me, and then we'lltry."
Tom laid down the harness, took the stick and made the rush at Solomon.The latter kicked out his heels and cantered round by Dick, who threwhis noose, but failed to lasso the donkey, who took refuge in anothercorner.
"Never mind," cried Dick, gathering up the rope, "I shall do it nexttime. Now, then--I'm ready. Drive him back again."
Tom made another rush at the obstinate animal, which cantered off again,working considerably harder than it would if it had submitted patientlyto being bitted. This time he gave Dick a better chance, and the boythrew the rope so well that it seemed as if it must go over thecreature's head. But Solomon was too sharp. He shied at the rope andtossed his head aside; but though he avoided the noose and escaped it sofar, as he plunged he stepped right into it, tightened it round hisfore-legs, and the next instant fell over at one end of the rope,kicking and plunging as he lay upon his side, while at the other end ofthe rope there lay Dick upon his chest. For he had been jerked off hisfeet, but held on to the rope in spite of the donkey's struggles.
"I've got him, Tom; come and lay hold," panted Dick as the donkey made adesperate plunge, got upon his legs, and then fell down again upon theloose ling and straw, kicking out as if galloping.
This gave Dick time to rise, and, seeing his opportunity, he ran to thegate and passed the slack rope round, drew it tight, and shouted to Tomto come and hold on.
Just as Tom caught hold of the rope the donkey rose again and made aplunge or two, but only to fall once more, slacking the rope to such anextent that the boys were able to haul in a couple of yards more andhold on, stretching Solomon's legs out and drawing them so tightly thathe uttered a piteous cry like the beginning of a bray chopped off short.
"Do you give in, then?" cried Dick.
The donkey raised his head slightly and let it fall again, gazing wildlyat his captors, one of whom rushed round, avoided a feeble kick, and satdown upon the helpless animal's head.
"Now," cried
Dick, "we've got him, Tom; and I've a good mind to play thedrum on his old ribs till he begins to sing!"
"Don't hit him when he's down," said Tom. "It isn't English."
"I wasn't going to hit him," said Dick. "He's a prisoner and has givenin. Bring me the bit."
Solomon opened his mouth to utter a bray; but Dick put the stick betweenhis teeth, and he only uttered a loud sigh.
"Ah! now you're sorry for being such a brute, are you?" cried Dick."Come along, Tom."
"I'm coming, only the things have got all mixed," was the reply.
"Give 'em to me," cried Dick. "That's it. Now, then, you sit on hisneck, Tom, and then I'll get up. And look here, you, sir," he added tothe donkey, "you come any more of your games, and I'll knock your headoff!"
Solomon's flanks heaved, but he lay quite still, and did not resentTom's rather rough treatment as he bestrode his neck and sat down. Onthe contrary, he half-raised his head at his master's command, sufferedthe bit to be thrust between his teeth and the head-stall to be buckledon, after which Tom leaped up.
"Take the rope from about his legs now, Tom," cried Dick.
"Suppose he kicks!"
"He won't kick now," cried Dick. "He'd better! Here, you hold the reinand I'll take it off."
"No, I'll do it," said Tom sturdily; and going cautiously to work heunknotted the rope and drew it away, the donkey lying quite motionless.
"Now, then, Sol, get up!" cried Tom.
The donkey drew his legs together, leaped to his feet, shook himselftill his ears seemed to rattle, and uttered a sound like a groan.
"He is beaten now," said Dick. "Come and put on the pad and well go.That's right; buckle it on."
Tom obeyed, and the rough scrappy harness was fixed in its place, whileSolomon twitched his ears and rolled them round as if trying to pick upnews in any direction.
"He won't kick now, will he?" said Tom.
"Not unless he feels a fly on his back, and then he'll try to kick itoff."
"Why, he couldn't kick a fly off his back if he tried," said Tom.
"No, but he'd try all the same. Look out!--there he goes!"
Tom leaped aside, for the donkey kicked out fiercely for a few moments.
"Why, there are no flies now!" said Tom.
"Must be. Look out!--he's going to kick again!"
The donkey's heels flew out, and Tom made a feint of punching hiscompanion's head.
"How clever we are!" he cried. "Just as if I didn't see you ticklinghim to make him kick!"
"Tickle him!" said Dick laughing. "Why, I wasn't tickling him when hekicked up in the corner there. But come along or we shall never getthat log up to the yard, and father won't like it. Now, Sol! Open thegate, Tom."
Tom opened the gate, and with Dick holding the rein the donkey walkedalong by his side as meekly as if he had never kicked or shown his teethwith the intention of biting in his life. The rope was doubled up andthrown over his back; and when they had gone a few yards Dick, withoutpausing, made a bit of a jump and struggled on to the animal's back,getting himself right aft, as a sailor would say, so that it seemed asif at any moment he might slip off behind.
But Solomon made no objection; he just twitched and wagged his tail fora moment or two, and then put it away out of sight. For the donkeychained, or rather harnessed, became an obedient slave--a very differentcreature from the donkey free.
When they reached the dyke where the men were standing delving out thepeat, it was to find a group of three fresh arrivals in the persons ofHickathrift the wheelwright, Dave, and John Warren, and all in earnestconverse upon some subject.
"Yow may say what yow like," cried Dave, "but fen-land's fen-land, andmeant for the wild birds."
"And rabbuds," put in John Warren.
"Ay, lad, and rabbuds," assented Dave; "and it weer nivver meant to growcorn and grass. Yow can't do it, and yow'll nivver make fen-landfields. It's agen natur."
"So it is to ride in a cart or on a sled, lad," said Hickathriftgood-humouredly; "but I make 'em, and folk rides in 'em and carriesthings to market."
"Ay, but that's different," said Dave. "Fen-land's fen-land; and youcan't dree-ern that."
"You can't dree-ern that," said John Warren, nodding his head in assent.
"Well, they'll drain these fields, at all events," said Hickathrift."Yow can't say they weant do that."
"I say fen-land's fen-land," reiterated Dave, taking off his fox-skincap and rubbing his ear viciously; "and it can't be dree-ernt."
"Ah! you two are scarred about your 'coy and your rabbud-warren," criedHickathrift good-humouredly. "I wish they'd dree-ern the whole placeand have roads all over it, so as to want carts and wains."
"Nay, they nivver will," said Dave sourly. "Tek to makkin' boats andpunts, mun. Them's best."
"Hullo, Dave!" cried Dick; "how about the ruffs and reeves? You saidyou'd take me to the netting."
"Well, haven't I come for you, lad?" said Dave quietly.
"Have you? Oh, Tom, and we've got this old stump to draw away! I can'tgo now, Dave."
"There's plenty o' time, lad. I'm not going back yet Hicky's got to puta bit o' plank in my boat 'fore I go back."
"Come on, Tom, and let's get it done," cried Dick. "Here, give us therope."
He took the rope, fastened it to one of the roots, and then joined thetraces together, and tied the rope about them.
After this the donkey was turned so that his head was toward the sharpslope, leading to the Priory on the Toft, and a start was made. That isto say, the donkey tightened the traces, stuck his hoofs into theground, tugged for a minute without moving the stump, and then gave up.
"Why, Mester Dick, yow'll have to get root on a sled or she weant move."
"Oh, we'll do it directly!" cried Dick. "Here, Tom, you give a goodshove behind. Now, then, pull up!"
Tom thrust with all his might, while Dick dragged at the donkey'shead-stall, and once more, after offering a few objections, Solomontightened the traces and rope, and tugged with all his might, but theroot did not move.
"Yow weant move her like that, I tell you, lad," said Hickathrift.
"Won't I!" cried Dick angrily; "but I just will. You Tom, you didn'thalf push."
"Shall I give her a throost?" said the wheelwright, smiling.
That smile annoyed Dick, who read in it contempt, when it was onlyprompted by good temper.
"We can do it, thank you," cried Dick. "Now, Tom, boy, give it a heave.Pull up, Solomon."
Tom heaved, but Solomon refused to "pull up;" and after his latedisappointments, and his discovery that the root was heavier than he, ittook a great deal of coaxing to get him to stir. At last, though, justas Hickathrift was coming up good-temperedly to lend his aid, it seemedas if the donkey anticipated a tremendous blow from the long staff thewheelwright carried, for he made a plunge, Dick took tightly hold of therein and gave it a drag, and Tom sat down on the great root, to followHickathrift's example and roar with laughter, in which the men who weredelving peat joined, while Dave and John Warren, men who took life in avery solemn manner, actually smiled.
For Solomon's sudden plunge, joined to Dick's drag at the head-stall,showed that it was quite time a new fit out of harness was provided,inasmuch as the old leather gave way in two or three places, and thedonkey, with nothing on but his collar, was off full gallop, feelinghimself a slave no longer, while Dick, after staggering backwards for ayard or two, came down heavily in a sitting position, and in a very wetplace.
"Yes, it's all very well to laugh," said Dick, getting up and lookingruefully at the broken bridle and bit which he held in his hand; "butsee how cross father will be."
"And look where old Solomon has gone!" cried Tom. "I say, how are we tocatch him? Ha! ha! ha! Only look!"
Everyone but Dick joined in the laugh, for Solomon was rejoicing in hisliberty, and galloping away toward the fen, shaking his head, andkicking out his heels; while every now and then he stretched out hisneck, grinned, and
bit at the wind, for there was nothing else to bite.
"Nice job we shall have!" grumbled Dick. "Oh, I say, Tom, we are in amess."
"Oh, there's nowt the matter, Mester Dick!" said Hickathriftgood-temperedly, as he picked up the broken harness and examined it."Why, I could mend all this in less than an hour with some wax-ends anda brad-awl."
"Yes, but will you, Hicky?"
"Of course I will, my lad. Theer, don't look that how. Go and catchthe Solemn-un, and me, and Dave, and John Warren'll get the root up tothe yard for you."
"Will you, Hicky?" cried the boys joyfully. "Oh, you are a good oldfellow! Come on, Tom, and let's catch Solomon."
The harness was thrust aside by the wheelwright, ready to take home, andthen at a word the two fen-men came forward, and together they rolledthe awkwardly-shaped root over and over toward the farm; while, oncesatisfied that the pine-root was on its way, Dick gave his companion aslap on the shoulder, and moistened his hand to get a better grip of hisstick.
"Get a stick, Tom," he said. "I don't want to drum old Solomon's ribs;but I'm just in the humour to give it him if he plays any of histricks."
That was just what the donkey seemed determined upon. He had been shutup for a fortnight in the yard, and hardly knew how to contain himself,as he bounded along in a way he never attempted when he was not free.There were spots which he knew of where succulent thistles and waterplants grew, and after a long course of dry food he meant to enjoy afeast.
The boys shouted as they ran, and tried to get ahead; but the more theyshouted the more Solomon kicked up his heels and ran, performing aseries of capers that suggested youth instead of extreme old age.
"We shall never get him," cried Tom as he panted along.
"We must catch him," cried Dick, making a furious rush to head off thefrolicsome animal, which seemed as if he thoroughly enjoyed teasing hispursuers.
Dick was successful in turning the donkey, but not homeward, and hestopped short unwillingly as he saw the course taken.
"I say, Dick, isn't it soft out there?"
"Soft! Yes. Mind how you go!"
This advice would have been thrown away upon Solomon, though, had hecomprehended it, the effect might have been beneficial. For, whateverknowledge the donkey might have possessed about the flood, he did notrealise the fact that since he last tickled his palate with the spinousthistle--an herb which probably assumed to his throat the flavour thatpepper does to ours--there had been a considerable depth of water overthe fen, and that it was very soft. The result was, that while the ladsstopped short, and then began to pick their way from tussock to tussock,and heather patch to patch, Solomon blundered on, made a splash here, abit of a wallow there, and then a bound, which took him in half-way uphis back; and as he plunged and struck out with fore-legs and heels, hechurned up the soft bog and made it softer, so that he sank in and in,till only his spine was visible with, at the end, his long neck andgreat grey head, upon which the ears were cocked out forward, while anexpression of the most intense astonishment shone out of his eyes.
"Oh, Tom, what shall we do?"
_He-haw_--_he-yaw_--_he-yaw_!
Solomon burst out into the most dismal bray ever heard--a long-drawnmisery-haunted appeal for help, which was prolonged in the mostastounding way till it seemed to be a shrill cry.
"I don't know," responded Tom, wiping the tears out of his eyes.
"Oh, come, I say," said Dick, "it isn't anything to laugh at!"
"I know it isn't," cried Tom; "but I can't help it. I feel as if I mustlaugh, and--Ha! ha! ha!"
He burst into a tremendous peal, in which his companion joined, foranything more comic than the aspect of the "Solemn-un" up to his neck inthe bog it would be hard to conceive.
"Here, this won't do," cried Dick at last, as he too stood wiping hiseyes. "Poor old Sol, we mustn't let you drown. Come on, Tom, and let'shelp him out."
How Dick expected that he was going to help the donkey out he did notsay; but he began to pick his way from tuft to tuft, avoiding the softplaces, till he was within twenty feet of the nearly submerged animal,and then he had to stop or share his fate.
"I say, Tom, I can't get any farther," he cried. "What shall we do?"
"I don't know."
"What a fellow you are!" was the angry reply. "You never do know. OldSol will be drowned if we don't look sharp. The bog is twenty feet deephere."
"Can't he swim out?"
"Can't you swim out!" cried Dick. "What's the good of talking likethat? You couldn't swim if you were up to the neck in sand."
"But he isn't up to his neck in sand."
"But he's up to his neck in bog, and it's all the same."
"Ahoy! what's matter?" came from a couple of hundred yards away; and thelads turned, to see that it was Hickathrift shouting, he and the othershaving just succeeded in taking up the root to its destination.
"Ahoy! Bring the rope," shouted Dick.
"He-haw--haw--haw--haw!" shouted the Solemn one dismally, as if toemphasise his young master's order.
"Why, how came he in there?" cried Hickathrift, trotting up with therope, but picking his way carefully, for the peat shook beneath hisfeet.
"He went in himself," cried Dick. "Oh, do get him out before he sinks!Make a noose, and let's throw it over his head."
"We shall pull his head right off if we do," said Hickathrift, butbusily making the noose the while.
"Oh, no, I don't believe you would!" cried Tom. "He has got an awfullystrong neck."
"It won't hurt him," said Dave, who came up slowly with the rest.
"Well, there's no getting it under him," said the wheelwright; "he'dkick us to pieces if we tried."
"I'll try," said Dick eagerly.
"Nay, I weant let you," said Hickathrift. "I'll go my sen."
"It weant bear thee, neighbour," said John Warren warningly.
"Eh? wean't it? Well, I can but try, mun. Let's see."
The good-natured wheelwright went cautiously towards where Dick wasstanding waiting for the rope; but at the third step he was up to hismiddle and had to scramble out and back as fast as he could.
"I'm too heavy," he said; "but I'll try again. All right, I'm comingsoon!" he added as the donkey uttered another dismal bray.
But his efforts were vain. Each time he tried he sank in, and at last,giving up to what was forced upon him as an impossibility, he coiled upthe rope to throw.
"Thou mun heave it over his head, my lad. Don't go no nigher to him; itisn't safe."
He threw the rope, and Dick caught the end and recoiled it preparatoryto making a start over the moss.
"Nay, nay, stop!" shouted Hickathrift.
"I must go and try if I can't put it round him, Hicky," cried Dick.
"Come back, thou'lt drownd thysen," shouted Dave excitedly.
"No, I won't," said Dick; and picking his steps with the greatest care,he succeeded in stepping within ten yards of the donkey, which made adesperate struggle now to get out and reach him, but without success;all he did was to change his position, his hind-quarters going downlower, while his fore-legs struck out into the daylight once or twice inhis hard fight for liberty.
"Now, my lad, heave the rope over his head, and we'll haul him out,"cried Hickathrift.
But Dick paid no heed. He saw in imagination the poor animal strangledby the noose; and with the idea that he could somehow get alongside, hestruck out to the left, but had to give up, for the bog was more fluidthere.
On the other side it was even worse, and Dick was about to turn andshout to the men to try if they could not get the punt up alongside,when a fresh struggle from Solomon plainly showed him that the animalmust be rescued at once or all would be over.
Dick made one more trial to get nearer, in spite of the cries andadjurations of those upon the firmer ground; but it was useless, andstruggling to a tuft of dry reed, he balanced himself there and gatheredup the rope, so as to try and throw the loop over the donkey's head.
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p; As he held it ready there was another miserable bray, and the ladhesitated.
"It means killing him," he muttered. "Poor old Solomon! I never likedhim, but we've had so many runs together."
His hand dropped to his side with the rope, and he tottered, for thereed tuft seemed to be sinking.
Solomon brayed again and fought desperately to free himself, but sanklower.
"Heave, Dick, heave!" shouted Tom.
"Throw it over, my lad! throw it over, or thou'lt be too late!" criedthe wheelwright; but Dick did not move. His eyes were fixed upon thedonkey's head, but his thoughts were far back in the past, in sunny dayswhen he had been riding by the edge of the fen to the town, or down tothe firm sand by the sea, where Solomon always managed to throw him andthen gallop off. Then there were the wintry times, when the donkey'shoofs used to patter so loudly over the frozen ground, while now--
Perhaps it was very childish, for Dick was a strongly built lad ofsixteen, and had his memory served him truly it would have reminded himof that terrible kick in the leg which lamed him for a month--of theblack-and-yellow bruise upon his arm made by the vicious animal's jawsone day when he bit fiercely--of that day when he was pitched overSolomon's head into the black bog ditch, and had to swim out--of a dozenmishaps and injuries received from the obstinate beast. But Dickthought of none of these, only of the pleasant days he had had with theanimal he had known ever since he could run; and, whether it werechildish or not, the tears rose and dimmed his eyes as he stood theregazing at what seemed to be the animal's dying struggles, and thinkingthat it would be kinder to let him drown than to strangle him, as hefelt sure they would.
"Why don't you throw, Dick?" cried Tom again in an excited yell that washalf drowned by Solomon's discordant bray, though it was growing morefeeble as the struggles were certainly more weak.
All at once Dick started and his eyes grew more clear. It was not atthe warning shout of the wheelwright, nor the yell uttered by the othermen, but at the action of the sufferer in the bog. For, feeling himselfsurely and certainly sinking lower, the donkey made one more tremendouseffort, extricating his fore-legs and beating the fluid peat with themtill it grew thinner, and with neck outstretched and mouth open it sankmore and more back, till head and legs only could be seen.
Dick did it unconsciously. His eyes were fixed upon the strugglingbeast, but his ears were deaf to the shouts behind him. All he heardwas the dismal bray enfeebled to a groan so full of despair that the ladthrew the rope, and in throwing lost his balance, fell, and the nextmoment was struggling in the mire.
He tried to rise, but it was impossible, and as he fought and struggledfor a few moments it was to find that the bog was growing thinner andthat the patches about him, which looked firm, were beginning to sink.
Was he too going to drown? he asked himself, and something of thesensation he had felt on the night of the flood came over him.
Then he felt a snatch, and a voice like thunder brought him to himself.
"Howd tight, lad!"
The next moment Dick felt himself gliding over the soft bog, anddirectly after Dave had hold of one of his hands and drew him to a placeof safety before running back to the rope.
"All together, lads! Haul!"
There was a shout and a tremendous splashing, and Dick Winthorpestruggled to his feet, wiping the black fluid bog from his eyes, to seeSolomon hauled right out, slowly at first, then faster and faster, tillhe was literally run over the slippery surface to where there was firmground.
"I got it over his head, then?" said Dick huskily.
"Ay, lad, and over his legs too," cried Hickathrift, as he bent down andloosened the noose. "Eh, bud it's tight. That's it!"
He dragged the rope off, and the donkey lay perfectly motionless for afew moments, but not with his eyes closed, for he seemed to be gloweringround.
"Is he dying, Hicky?" said Dick.
"Nay, lad; yow can't kill an ass so easy. Seems aw reight. There!"
The last word was uttered as the donkey suddenly struggled up, gavehimself a tremendous shake, till his ears rattled again as the bog waterflew; and then stretching out his neck as if he were about to bray, hebared his teeth and made a fierce run at the wheelwright.
But Hickathrift struck at him with the rope, and to avoid that, Solomonworked round, made a bite at Dick, which took effect on his wet coat,tearing a piece right out. Then he swerved round like lightning andthrew out his heels at Tom, tossed up his head, and then cantered off,braying as he went, as if nothing had been the matter, and makingstraight for the yard.
"Well, of all the ungrateful brutes!" cried Tom.
"Ay, we might just as well hev let him get smothered," said thewheelwright, joining in the laughter of the others. "Didn't hurt you,did he, Mester Dick?"
"No, Hicky. Only tore my coat," replied Dick, turning reluctantly up tothe house, for he was wet and now felt cold.
"I say, Dick, what about the netting?" cried Tom.
The lad looked piteously at Dave and his companion of the rabbitwarren--two inseparable friends--and felt that his chance of seeing theruffs and reeves captured was very small.
"Are you going--to-day, Dave?" he faltered.
"Nay, lad," said Dave dryly, "yow've had enough o' the bog for one day.Go and dry thysen. I'll coom and fetch thee to-morrow."
So the lads went up to the house, the men returned to their draining,and the wheelwright walked slowly away with Dave and John Warren.
"Let's run, Dick," said Tom, who was carrying the rope; "then you won'tcatch cold."
"Oh, I sha'n't hurt," said Dick, running all the same; and in passingthe yard they closed the gate, for Solomon was safe inside; but as theyreached the house, where Mrs Winthorpe stood staring aghast at herson's plight, Solomon burst forth with another dismal, loud complaining:"_He-haw_!"
Dick o' the Fens: A Tale of the Great East Swamp Page 6