Part 8 (1/2)
He saw, too, something else which completely upset one of his plans, which was, to continue his descent right to the bottom of the cliff, after securing the young ravens; for the strata retired for some distance below the bush, and he grasped at once the fact, that he must return by the way he descended.
”Wish I had a bag with me,” he thought, as he heard a peculiar squeaking arise from beneath his feet. ”Never mind: I'll tie their legs together with my handkerchief, or thrust them into toy breast.”
_Croak_--_croak_--_craw_--_awk_! came from one of the ravens, as it swept by him with a rush.
”Wait a minute, my fine fellow, or madam,” said the boy. ”Hard for you, perhaps; but how many chickens and ducklings have you stolen? how many unfortunate lambs have you blinded this spring? Can't have ravens here.
Hah! that's it.”
For upon forcing his hands well into a fault in the rock, he had lowered his feet and found good foot-hold on the ledge, lowered himself a little more, and saw that he could easily sit down, hold on by his left hand, the stout bush being ready, and draw out a pair of well-grown nestlings as soon as he liked.
”I'm afraid, Master Rayburn, that if there are eggs I should get them broken if I put them in my pocket,” he said aloud; ”and if they do break, phew! It would be horrible. Ah, put them in my cap. Let's see.”
He thrust his right hand into the niche, and s.n.a.t.c.hed it back, for the young ravens were big enough to use their beaks fiercely, and set up a loud, hoa.r.s.e series of cries, as soon as they found that an enemy was at the gate.
”You vicious little wretches!” he cried. ”My word, they can bite. Ah, would you!”
This was to one of the ravens, which rendered frantic by the cries of the young, swooped at him, and struck him with a wing in pa.s.sing.
”Declaration of war, eh!” he said. ”Well, it's your doing, you murderous creatures, you lamb-slayers. I did not know you could be so fierce.”
The raven had sailed off to a distance now, croaking loudly, and joined its mate; and as at the next movement of Mark, seated on his perilous perch, the young ravens screeched hoa.r.s.ely again, it was evident that there was to be a fresh attack, this time united.
But the lad reached down his right arm, got hold of the hilt of his thin rapier, and pressing closely to the niche, drew the weapon from its sheath.
”Now then!” he cried, as the blade flashed in the suns.h.i.+ne, ”I'm ready for you. A new way of killing ravens. Come on.”
He had not long to wait, for finding the entrance to their nesting-place partly darkened, the young birds set up a loud series of cries, maddening the old ones, and with a rush, down came one of them, so fiercely that the lad's arm received a heavy stroke from a powerful wing, the sword, pa.s.sing through the feathers, between the bird's wing and body.
”That's one to you,” said the lad, drawing his breath with a sharp hiss.
”My word, you can hit hard! It's your life or mine, my fine fellow, so look out.”
Almost before he had breathed these words, amidst the outcry made by the young, the second raven stooped at him, just as a falcon would at a heron, and it came so unexpectedly, that once more the point of the sword was ill directed, and a severe buffet of the bird's wing nearly sent him down.
”This is getting too serious,” he said, pressing his teeth together, as he for the first time fully realised what enormous power a bird has in its breast muscles.
They gave him no time for thinking, the first bird which had attacked, after taking a swift curve round and upward, coming down again with a fierce rush. But it was its last. Mark's sword was too well pointed this time; there was a whirr, a heavy thud which made the hilt jar against the lad's thigh, and the brave fierce bird had spitted itself so thoroughly, that it struggled and beat its wings heavily as it lay on the lad's lap, till he thrust out his arm to keep off the rain of blows, and the bird fluttered itself off the rapier, and fell with the force of a stone, down, down, out of sight.
A hoa.r.s.e croak set the lad on guard again, and none too soon, for once more he received a heavy blow from the companion raven's wing, as it pa.s.sed him with a whirr, striking the bush as well. Then recovering itself from the stoop which carried it low down, it sailed up again, to prepare for another attack.
”A bad miss,” muttered the lad. ”There was so little time to aim. Now then, come on again.”
The raven was far enough away, but as if it heard the challenge, it swept round, and came on now from the other direction, an awkward one for Mark; but he managed to hoist himself round a little, and presented his point steadily at the advancing bird, as it came on, looking small at first, then rapidly appearing bigger and bigger, till, with a furious whish through the air, it was upon him.
”Hah!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the lad, as his right arm was swung round by the violence of the raven's stoop, and the unfortunate bird had shared its mate's fate, for with the rush it had not only pierced itself through and through, but swept itself off the blade, wrenching the holder's shoulder, and falling, fluttering feebly, downward, till it too pa.s.sed from sight.
”Well done, brave birds!” panted the lad. ”Seems too bad: but it has saved no end of lambs. Who'd have thought that they would fight like that? Why, they could have beaten me off. Lucky I brought my sword.
Phew! it has made me hot,” he muttered, as he wiped the blade carefully; and after a little wriggling to find the hole in the scabbard, thrust the weapon home. ”They will not come at me again; so now for our young friends.”