Bevis Part 40

"Well, come on," said Mark, quite ready, "The road goes over the hills by Jack's. O! I know!"

"What is it?" for Mark had jumped up.

"Jack's got a rifle," said Mark. "He'll lot us shoot. Let's go and stop with Jack."

"First-rate," said Bevis. "But how do you know he has a rifle? There wasn't one when I was there last--you mean the long gun."

"No, I don't; he's got a rifle. I know, because he told Frances. He tells Frances everything. Stupids always tell girls everything.

Somebody wanted to sell it, and he bought it."

"Are you quite sure?" said Bevis, getting up.

"Quite."

"What sort is it?"

"A deer rifle."

"Come on."

Off they started without another word, and walked a mile in a great hurry, when they recollected that if they did not appear in the evening there would be a hunt for them.

"Just as if we were babies," said Mark.

"Such rubbish," said Bevis. "But we won't have any more such stuff and nonsense. Let's find Charlie, and send him back with a message."

They found him, and sent him home with a piece of paper, on with Bevis wrote, "We are gone to Jack's, and we shall not be home to-night." It was quite an hour's walk to Jack's, whose house was in a narrow valley between two hills. Jack was away in the fields, but when he returned he showed them the rifle, a small, old-fas.h.i.+oned muzzle-loader, and they spent a long time handling it, and examining the smallest detail.

"Let's have a shot," said Bevis.

"Yes," said Mark. "Now do, Jack." They begged and teased and worried him, till he almost yielded. He thought perhaps Bevis's governor would not like shooting, but on the other hand he knew Frances was fond of Bevis, and Mark was her brother, with whom, for various reasons, he wished to keep especially friendly. At last he said they would go and try and shoot a young rabbit, and took down his double-barrel.

They did not take any dogs, meaning to stalk the rabbits and shoot them sitting, as neither Mark nor Bevis could kill anything moving. Jack went down to some little enclosed meadows at the foot of the Downs where the rabbits came out as the sun began to sink. Every now and then he made them wait while he crept forward and peered through gaps or over gates.

Presently he came quietly back from a gap by a hollow willow, and giving Bevis the gun (which he had hitherto carried himself, being very anxious lest an accident should happen), whispered to him that there were three young rabbits out in the gra.s.s.

"Aim at the shoulder," said Jack, thinking Bevis might miss the head.

"And be sure you don't pull both triggers at once, and--I say--" But Bevis had started. Bevis stepped as noiselessly as a squirrel, and glancing carefully round the willow saw the rabbits' ears p.r.i.c.ked up in the gra.s.s. They had heard or seen him, but being so young were not much frightened, and soon resumed feeding.

He lifted the gun, which was somewhat heavy, having been converted from a muzzle-loader, and old guns were made heavier than is the custom now.

One of the rabbits moving turned his back to him, so that he could not see the shoulder; the other was behind a bunch of gra.s.s; but in a minute the third moved, and Bevis aimed at him. The barrels would not at first keep quite steady, the sight, just as he had got it on the rabbit, jumped aside or drooped, so that he had to try twice before he was satisfied.

"What a time he is," whispered Mark, when Bevis pulled the trigger, and they all ran forward. Jack jumped through the gap and picked up the rabbit, which was kicking in the gra.s.s. Bevis rubbed his shoulder and felt his collar-bone.

"Hurt?" said Jack, laughing. "Kicked? I was going to tell you only you were in such a hurry. You should have held the stock tight to your shoulder, then it would not kick. There, like this; now try."

Bevis took the gun and pressed it firm to his bruised shoulder.

"Got it tight?" said Jack. "Aim at that thistle, and try again."

"But he'll frighten the rabbits, and it's my turn," said Mark.

"All gone in," said Jack, "every one; you'll have to wait till they come out again. Shoot."

Bevis shot, and the thistle was shattered. It scarcely hurt him at all, it would not have done so in the least, only his shoulder was tender now.

"It's a very little rabbit," said Mark.

"That it's not," said Bevis. "How dare you say so?"

"It looks little."

"The size of a kitten," said Jack. "As sweet as a chicken," he added, "when cooked, and as white. You shall have it to-morrow for dinner-- just the right size to be nice;" he saw that Bevis was rather inclined to be doubtful, and wished to rea.s.sure him. Jack was a huge, kind-hearted giant.

"Are you sure it will be nice?"

"The very thing," said Jack, "if Mark can only shoot another just like it; it wants two for a pudding."

About half an hour afterwards Mark did shoot another, and then there was a long discussion as to which was the biggest, which could not be decided, for, in fact, being both about the same age, one could hardly be distinguished from the other, except that Mark's had a shot-hole in the ear, and Bevis's had not. On the way home a cloud of sparrows rose out of some wheat and settled on the hedge, and Bevis had a shot at these, bringing down three. Afterwards he missed a yellow-hammer that sat singing happily on a gate.

He wanted the yellow-hammer because it had so fine a colour. The yellow-hammer sang away while he aimed, repeating the same note, as he perched all of a heap, a little lump of feathers on the top bar. The instant the flash came the bird flew, and as is its habit in starting drooped, and so was s.h.i.+elded by the top bar. The bar was scarred with shot, and a dozen pellets were buried in it; but the yellow-hammer was not hurt.

Mark was delighted that Bevis had missed. There was an elm near the garden, and up in it Mark, on the look-out for anything, spied a young thrush. He took steady aim, and down came the thrush. They were disposed to debate as to who had shot, best, but Jack stopped it, and brought out the quoits. After they had played some time, and it was growing dusky, Ted entered the field.

"Halloa! Pompey," said Mark. "Pompey!"

"Pompey," said Jack, not understanding.

Ted walked straight up to Bevis.

"Where did you go," said Bevis, "after I fell over?"

"But aren't you angry?" said Ted.

"Angry--why?"

"Because I sent you over."

"But you didn't do it purposely."

"No, _that_ I didn't," said Ted, with all his might.

From that moment they were better friends than they had ever been before, though it was some time before Ted could really believe that Bevis was not angry about it. In fact, the idea had never entered Bevis's mind. Ted stopped with them to supper, and everything was explained to Jack, who was delighted with the battle, and could not hear enough about it. But they did not press Ted as to what had become of him, seeing how confused he was whenever the subject was approached.

Quite beside himself with terror and misery, poor Ted had pretended illness and remained in his room, refusing to see any one, and dreading every footstep and every knock at the door, lest it should be the constable come to arrest him. Towards the afternoon Val, who had already been down to Bevis's house and found he was all right, strolled up to see Pompey. Ted would not open the door even to him, and Val taunted him for being such a coward all that time after the battle.

Still, Ted would not unlock it till Val happened to say that there was a row about the war, and Bevis had gone up to Jack's. Open came the door directly.

"Where's Bevis?" said Ted, grasping at Val's arm.