Part 10 (1/2)
”Yes, I see,” said Mark.
”And mind nothing comes behind that woodbine,” pointing to a ma.s.s of woodbine which hung from some ash-poles, and stretched like a curtain across the view there. ”That's a very likely place for a tiger: and keep your eye sharp on those nut-tree bushes across the brook--most likely you'll see the barrel of a matchlock pushed through there.”
”I ought to have a matchlock,” said Mark.
”So you did; but we had to start with what we had, and it is all the more glory to us if we _get_ through. Now mind you keep awake.”
”Yes,” said Mark.
Bevis, having given his orders, settled himself very comfortably on the moss at the foot of the oak, tilted his hat aside to shelter him still more, and, with a spray of ash in his hand to ward off the flies, began to forget. In a minute up he started.
”Mark!”
”Yes;” still sulky.
”There's another oak--no, it's a banyan up farther; behind you.”
”I know.”
”Well, if you hear any rustle there, it's a python.”
”Very well.”
”And those dead leaves and sticks in the hole there by the stump of that old tree?”
”I see.”
”There's a cobra there.”
”All right.”
”And if a shadow comes over suddenly.”
”What's that, then?” said Mark.
”That's the roc from Sinbad's Island.”
”I say, Bevis,” as Bevis settled himself down again. ”Bevis, don't go to sleep.”
”Pooh!”
”But it's not nice.”
”Rubbish.”
”Bevis.”
”Don't talk silly.”
In a minute Bevis was fast asleep. He always slept quickly, and the heat and the exertion made him forget himself still quicker.