they sank when it was soft. Three or four yards from theedge there was a narrow strip of weeds, showing that a bank followed theline of the shore there. It was so unpleasant walking over this hardmud, that they went up into the field, which rose high, so that from thetop they had a view of the lake.

  Volume One, Chapter V.

  BY THE NEW NILE.

  "Do you see any canoes?" said Mark.

  "No," said Bevis. "Can you? Look very carefully."

  They gazed across the broad water over the gleaming ripples far away,for the light wind did not raise them by the shore, and traced the edgeof the willows and the weeds.

  "The savages are in hiding," said Bevis, after a pause. "Perhapsthey're having a feast."

  "Or gone somewhere to war."

  "Are they cannibals?" said Mark. "I should not like to be gnawn."

  "Very likely," said Bevis. "No one has ever been here before, so theyare nearly sure to be; they always are where no one has been. Thiswould be a good place to begin the map as we can see so far. Let's sitdown."

  "Let's get behind a tree, then," said Mark; "else if we stay still longperhaps we shall be seen."

  So they went a little farther to an ash, and sat down by it. Bevisspread out his sheet of brown paper.

  "Give me an apple," said Mark, "while you draw." Bevis did so, andthen, lying on the ground at full length, began to trace out the courseof the shore; Mark lay down too, and held one side of the paper that thewind might not lift it. First Bevis made a semicircle to represent thestony bay where they found the roach, then an angular point for thesandy bar, then a straight line for the shelving shore.

  "There ought to be names," said Mark. "What shall we call this?"putting his finger on the bay.

  "Don't splutter over the map," said Bevis; "take that apple pip off it.Of course there will be names when I have drawn the outline. Here's thecliff." He put a slight projection where the cliff jutted out a littleway, then a gentle curve for the shore of the meadow, and began anothertrending away to the left for the place where they were.

  "That's not long enough," said Mark.

  "It's not finished," said Bevis. "How can I finish it when we have onlygot as far as this? How do I know, you stupid, how far this bay goesinto the land? Perhaps there's another sea round there," pointing overthe field. "Instead of saying silly things, just find out some names,now."

  "What sea is it?" said Mark thoughtfully.

  "I can't tell," said Bevis. "It is most extraordinary to find a newsea. And such an enormous big one. Why how many days' journey have wecome already?"

  "Thirty," said Mark. "Put it down in the diary, thirty days' journey.There, that's right. Now, what sea is it? Is it the Atlantic?"

  "No; it's not the Atlantic, nor the Pacific, nor the South Sea; it'sbigger than all those."

  "It's much more difficult to find a name than a sea," said Mark.

  "Much," said Bevis. They stared at each other for awhile. "I know,"said Bevis.

  "Well, what is it?" said Mark excitedly, raising himself on his knees tohear the name.

  "I know," said Bevis. "I'll lie down and shut my eyes, and you take apiece of grass and tickle me; then I can think. I can't think unlessI'm tickled."

  He disposed himself very comfortably on his back with his knees up, andtilted his straw hat so as to shade that side of his face towards thesun. Mark pulled a bennet.

  "Not _too_ ticklish," said Bevis, "else that won't do: don't touch mylips."

  "All right."

  Mark held the bending bennet (the spike of the grass) bending with theweight of its tip, and drew it very gently across Bevis's forehead.Then he let it just touch his cheek, and afterwards put the tip verydaintily on his eyelid. From there he let it wander like a fly over hisforehead again, and close by, but not in the ear (as too ticklish),leaving little specks of pollen on the skin, and so to the neck, andnext up again to the hair, and on the other cheek under the straw hat.Bevis, with his eyes shut, kept quite still under this luxurioustickling for some time, till Mark, getting tired, put the bennetdelicately on his lip, when he started and rubbed his mouth.

  "Now, how stupid you are, Mark; I was just thinking. Now, do it again."

  Mark did it again.

  "Are you thinking?" he asked presently.

  "Yes," whispered Bevis. They were so silent they heard the grasshopperssinging in the grass, and the swallows twittering as they flew over, andthe loud midsummer hum in the sky.

  "Are you thinking?" asked Mark again. Bevis did not answer--he wasasleep. Mark bent over him, and went on tickling, half dreamy himself,till he nodded, and his hat fell on Bevis, who sat up directly.

  "I know."

  "What is it?"

  "It is not one sea," said Bevis; "it is a lot of seas. That's the BlueSea, there," pointing to the stony bay where the water was still andblue under the sky. "That's the Yellow Sea, there," pointing to the lowmuddy shore where the summer snipe flew up, and where, as it was soshallow and so often disturbed by cattle, the water was thick for someyards out.

  "And what is that out there!" said Mark, pointing southwards to thebroader open water where the ripples were sparkling bright in thesunshine.

  "That is the Golden Sea," said Bevis. "It is like butterflies flappingtheir wings,"--he meant the flickering wavelets.

  "And this round here," where the land trended to the left, and there wasa deep inlet.

  "It is the Gulf," said Bevis; "Fir-Tree Gulf," as he noticed the tops offir-trees.

  "And that up at the top yonder, right away as far as you can see beyondthe Golden Sea?"

  "That's the Indian Ocean," said Bevis; "and that island on the left sidethere is Serendib."

  "Where Sinbad went?"

  "Yes; and that one by it is the Unknown Island, and a magician livesthere in a long white robe, and he has a serpent a hundred feet longcoiled up in a cave under a bramble bush, and the most wonderful thingsin the world."

  "Let's go there," said Mark.

  "So we will," said Bevis, "directly we have got a ship."

  "Write the names down," said Mark. "Put them on the map before weforget them."

  Bevis wrote them on the map, and then they started again upon theirjourney. Where the gulf began they found a slight promontory, orjutting point, defended by blocks of stone; for here the waves, when thewind blew west or south, came rolling with all their might over the longbroad Golden Sea from the Indian Ocean. Pan left them while they stoodhere, to hunt among the thistles in an old sand-quarry behind. Hestarted a rabbit, and chased it up the quarry, so that when they lookedback they saw him high up the side, peering into the bury. Sand-martinswere flying in and out of their round holes. At one place there wasonly a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the quarry, so that itseemed as if its billows might at any time force their way in.

  They left the shore awhile, and went into the quarry, and winding in andout the beds of nettles and thistles climbed up a slope, where they sankat every step ankle deep in sand. It led to a broad platform of sand,above which the precipice rose straight to the roots of the grass above,which marked the top of the cliff with brown, and where humble-bees werebuzzing along the edge, and, bending the flowers down on which theyalighted, were thus suspended in space. In the cool recesses of thefirs at the head of Fir-Tree Gulf a dove was cooing, and a great aspenrustled gently.

  They took out their knives and pecked at the sand. It was hard, butcould be pecked, and grooves cut in it. The surface was almost greenfrom exposure to the weather, but under that white. When they lookedround over the ocean they were quite alone: there was no one in sighteither way, as far as they could see; nothing but the wall of sandbehind, and the wide gleaming water in front.

  "What a long way we are from other people," said Mark.

  "Thousands of miles," said Bevis.

  "Is it quite safe?"

  "I don't know," doubtfully.

  "Are there not strange creatures in these deserted places?"

>   "Sometimes," said Bevis. "Sometimes there are things with wings, whichhave spikes on them, and they have eyes that burn you."

  Mark grasped his knife and spear, and looked into the beds of thistlesand nettles, which would conceal anything underneath.

  "Let's call Pan," he whispered.

  Bevis shouted "Pan."

  "Pan!" came back in an echo from another part of the quarry. "Pan!"shouted Bevis and Mark together. Pan