It was like standing on a very long low narrow island, with the
peculiarity that one side was sea, the other inland lake. The sun shone
brilliantly, and the punt in which the squire, Farmer Tallington, Dave,
Warren, Hickathrift, and the two lads had come was lying on the inner
side of the sandy ridge covered with thin, wiry, harsh grass.
This ridge formed the island upon which they stood, in company with some
sheep and cattle which had instinctively made their way to the high
ground as the water rose.
The tide was down now; a great deal of the water had drained away, and
the party were standing by a great breach in the bank through which at
high-tide during the storm the sea had made its way.
"I can't quite understand how it could have broken through here," said
the squire; "but I suppose it was quite a small crack at first, and the
water soon washed it bigger."
There was a great channel at their feet, cut clean through the
embankment; and though the party were standing amongst the sand, they
could see that the bank which protected the fen from the sea, and ran up
alongside of the river, running inland, was formed of thick clay, matted
with the long roots of the grass.
"Who was it made this great bank, father?" said Dick.
"Your old friends you read about at school, they say, the Romans, first;
but of course it has been added to since. Well, neighbour, we can do no
good by ourselves. We must call together the adventurers, and it can
soon be mended and made stronger than it was at first. Let's go back.
Unless we have a gale, no more water will come through this. It's years
since I've been here. If one had taken a look round one would have seen
the weak spot."
They re-entered the punt, and Hickathrift poled them back, being
relieved in turn by Dave and Warren, by whose solitary cottage they
paused--a mere hut upon a sandy patch, standing like an island out of
the watery waste, and here he elected to stay with the rabbits which
frisked about and showed their cottony tuft tails as they darted down
into their holes.
"How about your cottage, Dave?" said the squire, shading his eyes as he
looked across the flooded fen.
"Wet," said Dave laconically.
"Yes, there are four feet of water yonder, I should say. You will have
to stop at the Toft for the present."
"Not I, mester," said the rough fellow. "I don't mind a drop o'
watter."
"Not to wade through, perhaps, my man; but you can't sleep there."
"Sleep in my boat," said Dave laconically. "Won't be the first time."
"Do as you please," said the squire quietly; and he turned to talk to
Farmer Tallington.
"I say, Dave," whispered Dick, "you're just like an old goose."
"Eh?" said the man with his eyes flashing.
"I mean being able to sleep on the water floating," said Dick, laughing,
and the angry look died out.
It was plain enough that the water had sunk a good deal already, but the
farmers had to face the fact that it would be weeks before the fen was
in its old state, and that if the breach in the sea-wall were not soon
repaired, they might at any time be afflicted with a similar peril.
But notice was sent to those interested, while the farmers here and
there who held the patches of raised land round the borders of the fen
obeyed the summons, and for about a month there was busy work going on
at the sea-wall with spade and basket, clay being brought from pits
beneath the sand upon the sea-shore, carried up to the breach, and
trampled down, till at last, without further mishap, the gap in the
embankment was filled up strongly, and the place declared to be safe.
Of those who toiled hard none showed so well in the front as Dave o' the
'Coy, and John Warren, and the squire was not stinted in his praise one
day toward the end of the task.
"Wuck hard, mester!" said Dave. "Enough to mak' a man wuck. John
Warren here don't want all his rabbits weshed away; and how am I to
manage my 'coy if it's all under watter."
"Ah, how indeed!" said the squire, and he went away; but Dick stayed
behind with Tom Tallington, and sat upon the top of the embankment,
laughing, till the rough fen-man stood resting on his spade.
"Now then, what are yow gimbling [grinning] at, young mester?" he said.
"At yow, Dave," said Dick, imitating his broad speech.
"Then it arn't manners, lad. Thowt you'd been to school up to town
yonder to larn manners both on you?"
"So we did, Dave, and a lot more things," cried Dick. "How to know when
anyone's gammoning."
"Gammoning, lad?" said Dave uneasily.
"Yes, gammoning. You don't want the flood done away with."
"Not want the flood done away wi'!"
"No; and you don't want the fen drained and turned into fields."
"Do yow?" said Dave fiercely, and he took a step nearer to the lad.
"No, of course not," cried Dick. "It would spoil all the fun."
"Hah!" ejaculated Dave, as his yellow face puckered up with a dry smile,
and in a furtive way which fitted with his fox-skin cap he turned and
gave John Warren a peculiar look.
"When may we come over to the 'coy, Dave?"
"When you like, lads. Soon as the watter's down low enough for us to
work it."
"It's sinking fast, Dave," said Tom. "It's all gone from our garden
now, and the rooms are getting dry."
"Ay, but my pipes are covered still, and it'll be a good month, my lads,
'fore we can do any good. But I might ha' took you both out in the punt
for a bit o' shooting if you hadn't played that game on me, and spoiled
my horn and wasted all my powder."
"Ah, it was too bad, Dave; but there are a couple of fine large horns at
home I've saved for you, and we've bought you a pound of powder."
"Nay, I sha'n't believe it till I see 'em," said Dave. "I did mean to
hev asked you lads to come netting, but I can't ask them as plays
tricks."
"Netting! What, the ruffs?"
"Ay, I weer thinking about heving a try for 'em. But I shall give it
up."
"Dave, you promised me a year ago that you'd take us with you some time,
and you never have," cried Dick.
"Nay, did I though?"
"Yes; didn't he, Tom?"
"Nay, yow needn't ask him; he'll be sewer to say yes," said Dave,
grinning.
"Look here," cried Dick, "I'm not going to argue with you, Dave. Are
you going to take us?"
"Some day, lad, when the watter's down, if my live birds aren't all
drownded and my stales [stuffed decoys] spoiled."
"Oh, they won't be!" cried Dick. "When will you go?"
"When the watter's down, my lad."
"It's low enough now. There are plenty of places where you can spread
your nets."
"Ay, but plenty of places don't suit me, my lad. You wait a bit and
we'll see. Get John Warren to tek you ferreting."
"Yes, that will do," cried Tom. "When are you going, John?"
The man addressed shook his head.
"Rabbuds don't want no killing off. Plenty on 'em drownded."
"Why," cried Dick, "it was only the other day you said that none were
hurt by the flood."
"Did I, Mester Dick? Ah, yow mustn't tek no notice o' what I say."
"But we shall take notice of what you say," cried Tom. "I don't believe
he has any ferrets left."
"Ay, bud I hev. Theer I'll tek you, lads. Why don't thou tek 'em wi'
you, Dave, man? Let un see the netting."
Dave smiled in a curious way, and then his eyes twinkled as he looked
from one to the other.
"Well, you wait a week, lads, and then I'll fetch you."
"To see the netting?"
"Ay. In another week there'll be a deal more dry land, and the ruffs
and reeves'll be ower in flocks, I dessay. If they aren't, we'll try
for something else."
"Hooray!" cried Dick; and that evening there was nothing talked of but
the projected trip.