Surging along the Calypso sought the south, travelling but little faster
than the waves, but smoothing a broad wake as she drove over them.
Bevis held the oar-rudder under his right arm, with his hand on the
handle, and felt the vibration of the million bubbles rising from the
edge of the rudder to the surface. Piloting the vessel Mark sometimes
directed him to steer to the right, and sometimes to the left.
There were four herons standing in a row on one sand-bank, they rose and
made off at their approach; Bevis said he must have a heron’s plume.
They could just see the swan a long, long way behind in the broad open
water off Fir-Tree Gulf. Not long after passing the heron’s sand-bank,
Mark said he was sure the water was deeper, as there were fewer weeds,
but there was a long island in front of them which would soon bar their
progress. It stretched from one mass of impenetrable weeds to another,
and they began to think of lowering sail, when suddenly the raft stopped
with a jerk, then swung round, and hung suspended.
“A snag,” said Bevis, recovering himself.
Mark had been pitched forward, and had it not been for the
willow-plaited bulwark would have gone overboard. They had the sail
down in a moment, fearing that the mast would snap. As they moved on
the deck the raft swung now this way now that like a platform on a
pivot.
“If it had been the Pinta,” said Mark, “there would have been a hole
knocked in the bottom.”
The thin planking of the boat would have been crushed like an egg-shell;
the thick beams at the bottom of the Calypso could not be damaged. The
only difficulty was to get her off. They tried standing at one edge,
and then the other, depressing it where they stood and lightening it at
the other part, and at last by moving everything heavy on deck to one
corner, she floated and bumped off. Looking over the bulwark they saw
the snag, it was the top of a dead and submerged willow. Had they had a
large sail, or had the wind been rough the mast would have snapped to a
certainty; but the wind had been gradually sinking for some hours. They
did not hoist sail again, being so near the long and willow-grown
island, but let the raft drift to the shore.
The willows were so thick that it did not appear any use to carry the
matchlock with them as the long barrel would constantly catch in the
boughs. Bevis took his bow and arrows, Mark his axe, and they climbed
ashore through the blue gums, compelling Pan by threats to keep close
behind. The island they soon found was nothing but a narrow bank, and
beyond it the water recommenced, but even could they have dragged the
raft over and launched it afresh the part beyond would not have been
navigable. It was plated with pond-weed, the brown leaves overlapping
each other like scale-armour on the surface.
There seemed indeed more weed than water, great water-docks at the
margin with leaves almost a yard long, branched water plantains with
palm-like leaves and pale pink flowers; flags already a little brown,
then sedges and huge tussocks; these last--small islets of tall grass--
were close together in the shallow water like the ant-hills in the
Waste. No course could be forced through or twisted in and out such a
mass, and beyond it were beds of reed-grass, out of which rose the
reddish and scaling poles of willow. At the distant margin they could
see the tops of the trees of the jungle on the mainland. Where the
water was visible it had a red tinge and did not look good to drink,
very different from that at New Formosa. This was stagnant.
The current, slight as it was, from Sweet River Falls, passed between
New Formosa and Serendib, hence the deep channel, and rendered the water
there always fresh and pure. Over the pond-weed blue dragon-flies were
hovering, and among the willows tits called to each other.
“It’s South America,” said Mark. “It’s a swamp by the Amazon.”
“I suppose it is,” said Bevis. “We can’t go any farther.”
Without wading-boots it was impossible to penetrate the swamp, and even
then they could not have gone among the black-jointed horse-tails, the
stems of which were turning yellowish, for they would have sunk in ooze
to the waist. It would have been the very haunt of the bearded-tit had
not that curiously marked bird been extinct on the shores of the New
Sea. They had never even heard of the bearded-tit, so completely had it
died out there.
They moved a few yards along the bank, but found it was a ceaseless
climb from stole to stole, and so went back to the raft, and poled close
to the shore looking for traces of the creature. They poled from one
end to the other, up to the banks of weeds and flags, but without seeing
any sign. So far as they could tell the creature had not started from
this place, but it might have swum out from any other part of the shore.
“He’s not here,” said Bevis. “We shall never hunt him out of all these
sedges; I think we had better set a trap for him.”
“In the reeds at home,”--New Formosa was home now.
“In his trail.”
“Dig a pit,” said Mark. “They dig pits for lions.”
“Or set up a big beam to fall and crush him when he pushes a twig.”
“Or a spring gun; would the matchlock do?”
“Only then we want another gun when we go to find him. He might sham
dead.”
“Wires are not strong enough.”
“No; the pit’s best,” said Bevis. “Yes; we’ll dig a pit and stick up a
sharp spike in it, and put a trap-door at the top--just a slight frame,
you know, to give way with his weight--”
“And strew it over with grass.”
“And put the hare to tempt him.”
“And shoot him in the pit!”
“Won’t he glare!”
“Roar!”
“Gnash his grinders!”
“Won’t his teeth gleam!”
“Red tongue and foam!”
“Hot breath--in such a rage!”
“Lash his tail!”
“Tear the sides of the pit!”
“Don’t let’s kill him quick. Let’s make a spear and stick him a
little!”
“Come on.”
They seized the poles, all eagerness to return and dig the pit.
“Stupes we were not to do it before.”
“Awful stupes.”
“We never think of things till so long.” Such has been the case with
the world since history began. How many thousands of years was it after
primeval man first boiled water to the steam-engine? How long from the
first rubbing of electron or amber, and a leaping up of little particles
to it, to the electric tramway?
They had sailed to the swamp quickly, but it occupied more than an hour
to pole back to New Formosa, so that it was the afternoon when they
moored the Calypso in the usual place. They were hungry and hastened to
the hut, intending to begin the pit directly after dinner, when as they
came near, Pan ran on first and barked by the gate. “Ah!”
“He’s been!”
They ran, forgetting even to look at the match of the gun. There was
nothing in the enclosure; but Pan sniffed outside, and gave two short
“yaps” as much as to say, “I know.”
“Reeds,” said Bevis. “He’s in the reeds.”
“He heard us coming and slipped off--he’s hiding.”
“We shall have him! Now!”
“Now directly!”
“This minute!”
With incredible temerity they ran as fast as they could go to the bed of
reed-grass in which they had discovered the trail. Pan barked at the
edge; Bevis blew the match.
“Lu--lu--lu! go in!”
“Fetch him out.”
“Hess--ess--go in!”
“Now! Have him!”
Pan stopped at the edge and yapped in the air, wagging his tail and
hesitating.
“He’s there!” said Bevis.
“As sure as sure,” said Mark. Their faces were lit up with the wild joy
of the combat; as if like hounds they could scent the quarry.
“Go in,” shouted Bevis to the spaniel angrily. Pan crouched, but would
not go. Mark kicked him, but he would not move.
“Hold it,” said Bevis, handing the matchlock to Mark. He seized the
spaniel by his shaggy neck, lifted and hurled him by main force a few
yards crash among the sedges. Pan came out in an instant.
“Go in, I tell you!” shouted Bevis, beside himself with anger; the
spaniel shivered at his feet. Again Bevis lifted him, swung him, and
hurled him as far this time as the reed-grass. The next instant Pan was
at his feet again. Encouragement, persuasion, threats, blows, all
failed; it was like trying to make him climb a tree. The dog could not
force his nature. Mark threw dead sticks into the reed-grass; Bevis
flung some stones.
“You hateful wretch!” Bevis stamped his foot. “Get away.” Pan ran
back. “Give me the gun--I’ll go in.”
If the dog would not, he would hunt the creature from its lair himself.
“O! stop!” said Mark, catching hold of his arm, “don’t--don’t go in--you
don’t know!”
“Let me go.”
“I won’t.”
“I will go.”
They struggled with each other.
“Shoot first,” said Mark, finding he could not hold him. “Shoot an
arrow--two arrows. Here--here’s the bow.”
Bevis seized the bow and fitted the arrow.
“Shoot where the path is,” said Mark. “There--it’s there,”--pointing.
Bevis raised the bow. “Now shoot!”
“O!” cried a voice in the reeds, “don’t shoot!”
Bevis instantly lowered the bow.
“What?” he said.
“Who’s there?” said Mark.
“It’s me--don’t shoot me!”
“Who are you?”
“Me.”
They rushed in and found Loo crouching behind the alder in the
reed-grass; in her hand was a thick stick which she dropped.
“How dare you!” said Bevis.
“How did you get here?” said Mark. “Don’t you be angry!” said Loo.
“But how dare you!”
“On our island!”
“Don’t you--don’t you!” repeated Loo. “You!”
“You!” One word but such intense wrath.
“O!” cried Loo, beginning to sob.
“You!”
“You!”
“O! Don’t! He were so hungry.” Sob, sob.
“Pooh!”
“Yah!”
“Yow--wow!” barked Pan.
“He--he,” sobbed Loo. “He--he--”
“He--what?”
“He were so hungry.” Sob, sob.
“Who?”
“Samson.”
“Who’s Samson?”
“My--y--lit--tle--brother.”
“Then you took our things?” said Mark.
“He--he--kept on crying.”
“You had the damper--”
“And the potatoes--”
“And the bacon--”
“You didn’t--didn’t care for it,” sobbed Loo.
“Did you take the rabbit-skin?” said Mark.
“Yes--es.”
“But Samson didn’t eat that; did he?”
“I--I--sold it.”
“What for?”
“Ha’-penny of jumbles for Samson.” Jumbles are sweets.
“How did you get here?”
“I come.”
“How?”
“I come.”
“It’s disgusting,” said Bevis, turning to Mark; “spoiling our island.”
“Not a tiger,” said Mark. “Only a girl.”
“It’s not proper,” said Bevis in a towering rage. “Tigers are proper,
girls are not proper.”
“No; that they’re not.”
“Girls are--Foo!--”
“Very--foo!” Contemptuous puffing.
“It’s not the stealing.”
“No; it’s the coming--”
“Where you’re not wanted--”
“Horrible!”
“Hateful!”
“What shall we do?”
“Can’t kill her.”
“Nor torture her.”
“Nor scalp her.”
“Thing!”
“Creature!”
“Yow--wow!”
“Tie her up.”
“If we were savages we’d cook you!”
“Limb at a time.”
“What _can_ we do with her?”
“Let me stop,” said Loo pleadingly.
“Let _you_ stop! You!”
“I can cook and make tea and wash things.”
“Stop a minute,” said Mark. “Perhaps she’s a native.”
“Ah!” This was more proper. “She looks brown.”
“Copper coloured.”
“Are you a savage?”
“If you says so,” said Loo penitently.
“Are you very sorry?”
“You’re sure you’re a savage?”
“Will she do?”
“You’re our slave.”
“Ar-right,” [all-right], said Loo her brown eyes beginning to sparkle
through her tears. “I’ll be what you wants.”
“Mind you’re a slave.”
“So I be.”
“You’ll be thrashed.”
“Don’t care. Let I bide here.”
“I suppose we must have her.”
“You’re a great nuisance.”
“Ar-right.”
“Slave! Carry that.” Mark gave her the axe.
“And that.” Bevis gave her the bow. Loo took them proudly.
“You’re to keep behind--Pan’s to go before you.”
“Dogs first, slaves next.”
“Make her fetch the water.”
“Chop the wood.”
“Turn the spit.”
“Capital; we wanted a slave!”
“Just the thing.”
“Hurrah!”
“But it’s not so nice as a tiger.”
“O! No!”
“Nothing like.”
They marched out of the reed-grass, Pan and the slave behind.
“But how did you get here?” said Bevis, stopping suddenly.
“I come, I told you.”
“Can you swim?”
“No.”
“There’s no boat.”
“Did you have a catamaran?”
“What be that?”
“Why don’t you tell us how you got here?”
“I come--a-foot.”
“Waded? You couldn’t.”
“I walked drough’t,”--i.e. through it.
They would not believe her at first, but she adhered to her story, and
offered to wade back to the mainland to prove that it was possible. She
pointed out to them the way she had come by the shoals and sedge-grown
banks; the course she had taken curved like half a horse-shoe. First it
went straight a little way, then the route or ford led to the south and
gradually turned back to the west, reaching the mainland within sixty or
seventy yards of the place where they always disembarked from the raft.
It took some time for Loo to explain how she had done it, and how she
came to know of it, but it was like this.
Once now and then in dry seasons the waters receded very much, and they
were further lowered by the drawing of hatches that the cattle might get
water to drink low down the valley, miles away. As the waters of the
New Sea receded the shallower upper, or southern end, became partly dry.
Then a broad low bank of sand appeared stretching out in the shape of
half a horse-shoe the extremity of which being much higher was never
submerged, but formed the island of New Formosa. At such times any one
could walk from the mainland out to New Formosa dryshod for weeks
together.
This was how the island became stocked with squirrels and kangaroos; and
it was the existence of the rabbits in the burries at the knoll that had
originally led to Loo’s knowledge of the place. Her father went there
once when the water was low to ferret them, and she was sent with his
luncheon to and fro. That was some time since, but she had never
forgotten, and often playing about the shore, had no difficulty in
finding the shoal. The route or ford was, moreover, marked to any one
who knew of its existence by the tops of sand-banks, and sedge-grown
islets, which were in fact nothing but high parts of the same long,
curved bank.
There was not more than a foot deep of water anywhere the whole
distance, and often not six inches. This was in August, in winter there
would be much more. Tucking up her dress she had waded through easily,
feeling the bottom with a thick stick to guide her steps. The worst
place was close to the island, by the reed-grass, where she sunk a
little in the ooze, but it was only for a few yards.
At the hut the weapons were laid aside, and the slave put out the dinner
for them. Bevis and Mark sat, one each side of the table, on their
stools of solid blocks, Pan sat beside Bevis on his haunches expectant;
the slave knelt at the table.
She was bare-headed. Her black hair having escaped, fell to her waist,
and her neck was tawny from the harvest sunshine. The torn brown frock
loosely clung about her. Her white teeth gleamed; her naked feet were
sandy like Pan’s paws. Her brown eyes watched their every movement; she
was intent on them. They were full of their plans of the island; she
was intent on them.
She ate ravenously, more eagerly than the spaniel. Seeing this, Bevis
kept cutting the preserved tongue for her, and asked if Samson was so
very hungry. Loo said they were all hungry, but Samson was most hungry.
He cried almost all day and all night, and woke himself up crying in
the morning. Very often she left him, and went a long way down the
hedge because she did not like to hear him.
“But,” objected Bevis, “my governor pays your father money, and I’m sure
my mamma sends you things.”
So she did, but Loo said they never got any of them; she twisted up her
mouth very peculiarly to intimate that they were intercepted by the
ale-barrel. Bevis became much agitated, he said he would tell the
governor, he would tell dear mamma, Samson should not cry any more. Loo
should take home one of the tins of preserved tongue, and the potatoes,
and all the game there was--all except the hare.
Now Bevis had always been in contact almost with these folk, but yet he
had never seen; you and I live in the midst of things, but never look
beneath the surface. His face became quite white; he was thoroughly
upset. It was his first glance at the hard roadside of life. He said
he would do all sorts of things; Loo listened pleased but dimly
doubtful, she could not have explained herself, but she, nevertheless,
knew that it was beyond Bevis’s power to alter these circumstances. Not
that she hinted at a doubt; it was happiness enough to kneel there and
listen.
Then they made her tell them how many times she had been to the island,
and all about it, and as she proceeded recognised one by one, little
trifles that had previously had no meaning till now they were connected
and formed a continuous strand. In her rude language it occupied a long
time, and was got at by cross-questioning from one and the other. Put
into order it was like this.
Volume Three, Chapter XIV.