Bevis: The Story of a Boy
him.
Shading his eyes with his hand, for the wind seemed to hurt them, helooked towards the quarry, which appeared yellow at this distance. Hesaw a group of people, as he supposed Pompey's victorious army, passingby the sycamores.
"It's no use, Ted," he said to himself, "you can't find me, and youcan't win. I've done you."
The group was really Mark and the rest searching for him. After a whilethey went over the hill, and Bevis could not see them.
Bevis came down from the cliff, and thought he would see how large theisland was, so he went all round it, as near the edge as he could. Itwas covered with wood, and there were the thickest masses of bramble hehad ever seen. He had to find a way round these, so that it took himsome time to get along. Some firs too obstructed his path, and he foundone very tall spruce. At last he reached the other extremity, where theground was low, and only just above the water, which was nearly smooththere, being sheltered by the projecting irregularities of the shore.
Returning he had in one place to climb over quantities of stones, forthe bank just there was steeper, and presently compelled him to go moreinland. The island seemed very large, in shape narrow and long, but sothickly overgrown with bushes and trees that he could not see across it.The surface was uneven, for he went down into a hollow which seemedbeneath the level of the water, and afterwards came to a steep bank, onrounding which he was close to the place from which he started.
Not having had anything to eat since dinner (for they shirked theirtea), and having gone through all these labours, Bevis began to feelhungry, but there was nothing to eat on his island, for the berries werenot yet ripe. First he whistled, then he wished Mark would come, thenhe walked up to the cliff and climbed into the oak on the summit.
"Mark is sure to come," he said to himself. Just then he saw the fullmoon, which had risen above the distant hills, and shining over thebattlefield touched the raging waves with tarnished silver.
He looked at the great round shield on which the heraldic markings weredimmed by its own gleam. He almost fancied he could see it move, sorapidly did it sweep upwards. It was clear and bright as if wind-swept,as if the hurricane had brushed it. Bevis watched it a little while,and then he thought of Mark. The possibility that Mark would not knowwhere he was never entered his mind, nor did it occur to him thatperhaps even Mark would hesitate to venture out in such a tempest ofwind: so strong was his faith in his companion.
The wind blew so hard up in the tree, he presently got down, anddescended the slope till the ridge sheltered him. He sat on the roughgrass, put his hands in his pockets, and whistled again to assurehimself that he liked it. But he was hungry, and the time seemed veryslow, and he could not quite suppress an inward feeling that shipwreckwhen one was quite alone was not altogether so splendid. It was sodull.
He got up, picked up some stones, and threw them into the shadowybushes, just for something to do. They fell with a crash, and one ortwo birds fluttered away. He wished he had his knife to cut and whittlea stick. He thought he would make up his mind to go to sleep, andextended himself on the ground, when, looking up as he lay on his back,he saw there were stars. Not in the least sleepy, up he jumped again.
"Kaack! kaack!" like an immensely exaggerated and prolonged "quack"without the "qu;" a harsh shriek resounding over the water even abovethe gale.
"A heron," thought Bevis. "If I only had a gun, or my bow now." Hetook a stone, and peered out over the water on the side the cry camefrom, which was where the weeds were. The surface was dim and shadowyin that direction, and he could not see the heron. He returned and satdown on the grass. He could not think of anything to do, till at lasthe resolved to build a hut of branches, as shipwrecked people did. Butwhen he came to pull at the alder branches, those of any size were tootough; the aspen were too high up; the firs too small.
"Stupid," he said to himself. "This _is_ stupid." Once more hereturned to the foot of the slope, and sat down on the grass.
Before him there were the shadowy trees and bushes, and behind he couldhear the boom of the waves, yet it never occurred to him how weird theplace was. All he wanted was to be at something. "Why ever doesn'tMark come?" he repeated to himself. Just then he chanced to put hishand in his jacket-pocket, and instantly jumped up delighted."Matches!" He took out the box, which he had used to light thecamp-fire, and immediately set about gathering materials for a fire."The proper thing to do," he thought. "The very thing!"
He soon began to make a pile of dead wood, when he stopped, and, liftingthe bundle in his arms, carried it up the slope nearly to the top of thecliff, where he put it down behind a bramble bush. He thought that ifhe made the fire on the height it would be a guide to Mark, but down inthe hollow no one could see it. To get together enough sticks took sometime; for the moon, though full and bright only gave light where thebeams fell direct. In the shadow he could hardly see at all.
Having arranged the pile, and put all the larger sticks on one side,ready to throw on presently, he put some dry leaves and grassunderneath, as he had no straw or paper, struck a match and held, it tothem. Some of the leaves smouldered, one crackled, and the dry grasslit a little, but only just where it was in contact with the flame ofthe match. The same thing happened with ten matches, one after theother. The flame would not spread. Bevis on his knees thought a goodwhile, and then he set to work and gathered some more leaves, dry grass,and some thin chips of dry bark. Then he took out the sliding-drawer ofthe match-box, and placed it under these, as the deal of which it wasmade would burn like paper. The outer case he was careful to preserve,because they were safety matches, and lit only on the prepared surface.
In and around the little drawer he arranged half-a-dozen matches, andthen lit them, putting the rest in his pocket. The flame caught thedeal, which was as thin as a wafer, then the bark and tiny twigs, thenthe dry grass and larger sticks. It crept up through the pile,crackling and hissing. In three minutes it had hold of the boughs,curling its lambent point round them, as a cow licks up the grass withher tongue. The bramble bush sheltered it from the gale, but let enoughwind through to cause a draught.
Up sprang the flames, and the bonfire began to cast out heat, and redlight flickering on the trees. Bevis threw on more branches, the fireflared up and gleamed afar on the wet green carpet of undulating weeds.He hauled up a fallen pole, the sparks rose as he hurled it on.
"Hurrah!" shouted Bevis, dancing and singing:
"Kyng Estmere threwe his harpe asyde, And swith he drew his brand; And Estmere he, and Adler yonge, Right stiffe in stour can stand!"
"Adler will be here in a minute." He meant Mark.
Volume Two, Chapter IV.
MARK IS PUT IN PRISON.
But Adler was himself in trouble. After they had waited some time inthe camp, thinking that Bevis would be certain to return there sooner orlater, finding that he did not come, the whole party, with Mark at theirhead, searched and re-searched the battlefield and most of the adjacentmeadows, not overlooking the copse. Mark next ran home, hoping thatBevis for some reason or other might have gone there, and asked himselfwhether he had offended him in any way, and was that why he had left thefight? But he could not recollect that he had done anything.
Bevis, of course, was not at home, and Mark returned to the battlefield,every minute now adding to his anxiety. It was so unlike Bevis that hefelt sure something must be wrong.
"Perhaps he's drowned," said Val.
"Drowned," repeated Mark, with intense contempt; "why he can swim fiftyyards."
Fifty yards is not far, but it would be far enough to save life on manyoccasions. Val was silenced, still Mark, to be certain, went along theshore, and even some way up the Nile. By now the others had left, oneat a time, and only Val, Cecil, and Charlie remained.
The four hunted again, then they walked slowly across the field, tryingto think. Mark picked up Bevis's hat, which had fallen off in thebattle; but to find Bevis's hat was nothing, for he had a knack ofleavi
ng it behind him.
"Perhaps he's gone to your place," said Charlie, meaning Mark's home.
Mark shook his head. "But I wish you would go and see," he said; hedared not face Frances.
"So I will," said Charlie, always ready to do his best, and off he went.
Charlie's idea gave rise to another, that Bevis might be gone to Jack'shome in the Downs, and Val offered to go and inquire, though it was along, long walk.
He set out, Cecil went with him, and Mark, left to himself, walkedslowly home, hoping once more Bevis might have returned. As he came inwith Bevis's hat in his hand, the servants pounced upon him. Bevis wasmissed, there had been a great outcry, and all the people were inquiringfor him. Several had come to the kitchen to gossip about it. Theuproar would not have been so great so soon but it