Part 86 (1/2)
”Serpents guarding treasures, and lamps burning; they have been burning these ages and ages--”
”Awful claps of thunder underground.”
”We will go and see to-morrow--I believe there are heaps of kangaroos out there.”
”There's the channel.”
They could trace its windings from the tree, and marked it in their minds. At that height the breeze came cool and delicious; they sat there a long while silent, soothed by the rustle and the gentle sway of the branches. They could feel the mast-like stem vibrate--it did not move sufficiently to be said to bend, or even sway--so slight was the motion the eye could not trace it. But it did move as they could feel with their hands as the wind came now with more and now with less force.
When they descended, Mark continued fis.h.i.+ng till they came to the raft.
They embarked and poled it round the island to the other side ready to start in the evening. Then Bevis wrote the letter dating it from Jack's house up in the hills. It was very short. He said they were very well, and jolly, and should not come back for a little while yet, but would not be very long--this was in case any one should go up to see them.
But when he came to read it through for mistakes, the deceit he was practising on dear mamma stood out before him like the black ink on the page.
”I don't like it,” he said. ”It's not nice.”
”No; it's not nice,” said Mark, who was sitting by him. ”But still--”
”But still,” repeated Bevis, and so the letter was put in an envelope and addressed. In the evening as the sun sank Mark tried for bait and succeeded in catching some, these were for the trimmers. Then they laid out the night-line for eels far down the island where the edge looked more muddy. To fill up the time till it was quite moonlight, they worked at a mast for the raft, and also cut some sedges and flags for the roof of the open shed, which was to be put up in place of the awning.
They supposed it to be about half-past nine when they pushed off on the raft, taking with them the letter, a list of things to be got from the town to save the labour of cooking, and the flag-basket. The trimmers were dropped in as they went. Mark was going to wait by the raft till Bevis returned under the original plan, but they agreed that it would be much more pleasant to go together, the raft would be perfectly safe.
They found the channel without difficulty, the raft grounded among the sedges, and they stepped out, the first time they had landed on the mainland.
As they walked they saw a fern owl floating along the hedge by the stubble. The beetles hummed by and came so heedlessly over the hedge as to become entangled in the leaves. They walked close to the hedge because they knew that the very brightest moonlight is not like the day.
By moonlight an object standing apart can be seen a long distance, but anything with a background of hedge cannot be distinguished for certain across one wide field. That something is moving there may be ascertained, but its exact character cannot be determined.
As they had to travel beside the hedges and so to make frequent detours, it occupied some time to reach the cottage, which they approached over the field at the back. When they were near enough, Bevis whistled--the same notes with which he and Mark called and signalled to each other.
In an instant they saw Loo come through the window, so quickly that she must have been sleeping with her dress on; she slipped down a lean-to or little shed under it, scrambled through a gap in the thin hedge, and ran to them.
She had sat and watched and listened for that whistle night after night in vain. At last she drew her cot (in which her little brother also slept) across under the window, and left the window open. Her mind so long expecting the whistle responded in a moment to the sound when it reached her dreaming ear. She took the letter (with a penny for the stamp) and the list and basket, and promised to have the things ready for them on the following evening.
”And remember,” said Bevis, ”remember you don't say anything. There will be a s.h.i.+lling for you if you don't tell--”
”I shouldn't tell if there wurdn't no s.h.i.+lling,” said Loo.
”You mind you do not say a word,” added Mark. ”n.o.body is to know that you have seen us.”
”Good-night,” said Bevis, and away they went. Loo watched them till they were lost against the dark background of the hedge, and then returned to her cot, scrambling up the roof of the shed and in at the window.
They got back to the island without any difficulty, and felt quite certain that no one had seen them. Stirring up the embers of the fire, they made some tea, but only had half a cold damper to eat with it.
This day they had fared worse than any day since they arrived on New Formosa. They were too tired to make a fresh damper (besides the time it would take) having got up so early that morning, and Bevis only entered two words in his journal--”Monday--Loo.”
Then they fastened Pan to the door-post, allowing him enough cord to move a few yards, but taking care to make his collar too tight for him to slip his head. Pan submitted with a mournful countenance, well he understood why he was served in this way.
Volume Three, Chapter VIII.
NEW FORMOSA--THE MAINLAND.
In the morning, after the bath, Mark examined the night-line, but it was untouched; nor was there a kangaroo in the wires they had set up in their runs. Poling the raft out to the trimmers they found a jack of about two pounds on one, and the bait on another had been carried off, the third had not been visited. Bevis wanted to explore the Waste, and especially to look at the great grey boulder, and so they went on and landed among the sedges.