Part 40 (1/2)

Bevis Richard Jefferies 31450K 2022-07-22

”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.”