HAL FINDS A FRIEND.
On their way through the garden they met Hal. Directly they saw him
his brothers and sisters rushed up and told him all about Jumbo's
adventures, and about the boy who had been so kind to them. Hal was
not greatly interested. He was looking pale and listless, and there
were heavy, dark lines about his eyes. When they asked him eagerly if
he knew who the boy could be, he shook his head and yawned, and said
that he was sure he did not know.
"Come and have a game of cricket," he said, rousing himself a little.
"I have got my bat here, and the ball is somewhere about. Just have a
look for it, Tommy. We won't bother about stumps. This tree will do
quite well for the wicket."
"All right," Drusie said, delighted to find that Hal was willing to be
friends again. "I should love a game; but we must put Jumbo and the
other rabbits away first.--Come along, Jim and Helen."
She and Jim ran off at once, but Helen followed more slowly. She had a
shrewd suspicion that Hal merely wanted them to bowl and field for him,
and that he did not intend to allow them to bat. And she did not see
the fun of running about in the hot sun after his balls, if she was not
going to have any of the batting.
But Drusie and Jim were too excited at the prospect of a game to listen
to her words of warning, and as soon as the rabbits had been hastily
bundled into their hutches they raced back to the tree where Hal was
waiting for them.
"You shall bowl first, Jim," he said.--"Drusie, you can stand behind
the tree and be wicket-keeper, for, unless Jim has improved wonderfully
since I went away, most of his balls will be fearful wides.--Helen, you
go over there, and mind to throw the balls up sharp."
"Then you are going in first," said Helen, "and we are not going to
toss?"
But Hal was busy measuring out the distance at which Jim was to stand,
and did not hear her question. Or if he did, he evidently did not
consider it worthy of an answer.
"Now then," Hal said, coming back; "I am ready. I am not going to make
any runs, you know, as it is too hot; but you others must send the ball
up promptly, or else it makes it slow work for me."
Jim's bowling was not very difficult to deal with, and Hal knocked the
balls about pretty much as he pleased, and gave the fielders, and
especially Helen, plenty of running about.
"Well, at this rate," Drusie said merrily, as she cleverly stopped a
ball that was a very bad "wide" indeed, "we shall never get you out."
"No, I don't suppose you will," said Hal; and then he added
ungratefully, "That is the worst of playing with a set of girls; one
never gets any practice."
Whether Jim was annoyed at being classed as a girl, and was therefore
put on his mettle, cannot be said for certain, but at any rate his very
next ball hit the tree fair and square, and with so much violence that
a piece of the rough elm bark was knocked off.
"Hurrah!" shouted Drusie, clapping her hands; "bowled at last. Who
goes in next?"
"Don't be in such a mighty hurry," said Hal, who was looking distinctly
angry. "I am not out--not a bit of it. Why, that ball was not
anything like in the middle of the tree. Who ever heard of a wicket a
yard and a quarter wide? You'll have to bowl better than that, Jim, to
get me out."
"All right," Jim said, recovering himself. He had looked rather blank
for a moment when Hal declared so emphatically that he was not out. "I
suppose that ball was rather to one side of the tree. I will have
another try."
But Helen was not so easily satisfied.
"You said, Hal, that the tree was to be the wicket; you never said
anything about only counting the middle of the tree."
"Did I say so?" he replied. "Well, I made a mistake. Of course, it
would be rather absurd to count the whole tree. I tell you what I will
do. I will hang my cap on this little twig here, and if the ball hits
that I am out. Now, are you satisfied?"
They all, with the exception of Helen, hastened to say that they were,
and the game went on. A few minutes later he sent an easy catch, and
darting forward Helen caught the ball.
"How about playing with girls now, Master Hal?" she cried. "I suppose
you will own that you are fairly out this time?"
But he did nothing of the sort.
"Pooh!" he said contemptuously; "that was a pure fluke. Any one could
have caught that; and so it does not count either. I am not going out."
"Oh, I say," Jim said in a remonstrating tone, "is that the way you
play at your school?"
"Of course, it is not," said Hal. "Don't be a donkey, Jim. How often
am I to tell you that this is not a regular game, but just a sort of
knock up, you know?"
"In which you get all the knocking up," Helen said indignantly.
Hal laughed.
"Now, don't get into a temper, Helen. I don't see what girls want to
play cricket for. It is not a girls' game. All they are good for is
just to field, and that sort of thing."
At that Helen fairly choked with anger, Drusie opened her eyes very
wide, and Jim lay down on the grass and laughed quietly to himself.
Considering that both his sisters had been toiling on his behalf for
the last half-hour, it certainly was very cool of Hal to make such a
speech.
[Illustration: Jim and Helen]
"I knew how it would be," Helen exclaimed passionately, as soon as she
could find her voice; "and I warned you two others, only you would not
listen. I knew perfectly well that Hal was not going to let us go in,
and I call it downright unfair, and I for one am not going to field for
him any more.--And you say," she added, turning indignantly to Hal,
"that girls can't play cricket. Well, they can. Father says himself
that Drusie plays awfully well for a girl, and I suppose he ought to
know."
"For a girl," Hal said slightingly; "yes, that is just it."
"Please don't quarrel," Drusie said quickly. "You may stay in if you
like, Hal, and I will bowl for you.--Jump up, Jim, and go and be
wicket-keeper."
With a scornful sniff for what she considered to be great weakness on
Drusie's part, Helen returned to her place, where, in spite of her
declaration that she did not intend to play any more, she continued to
field.
For a girl Drusie did bowl remarkably well, and Hal would have been the
first to own it, had he not perceived a sort of triumphant "told you
so" expression on Helen's face, which annoyed him greatly, and made him
withhold the praise which Drusie would have been so pleased to hear.
She exerted herself to do her very best, and before many minutes had
passed she clean bowled him. There could be no doubt about it this
time, for the twig on which the cap had been hung was broken by the
force of the ball, and the cap fell to the ground.
"Hurrah!" Helen shrieked, dancing about and clapping her hands. "How
about girls not being able to bowl now, Master Hal? I suppose you will
own that you really are out this time?"
[Illustration: "_I suppose you will own that you really are out this
time?_"]
Hal looked not only mortified but exceedingly angry into the bargain.
"You are a precious set, I must say," he said, looking contemptuously
at the excited capers which Helen was cutting. "One would think that
you had done something awfully wonderful by the way in which you are
going on. That is just like a girl. Let her do something which she
thinks rather clever, and there is no end to her airs."
This was really rather severe on Drusie, who had neither said nor done
anything to justify Hal's scornful remarks. But he was too annoyed to
be fair, and as a punishment for what he chose to call Drusie's
bragging, he tucked his bat under his arm, and told them that he was
not going to play with them any more.
"You can brag by yourselves," he said, "of your wonderful cricket. I
am not going to put up with you any longer. I am sick of you all. I
must say it is awfully hard on a fellow to come home and find that not
one of his brothers or sisters is worth playing with. A more
conceited, disagreeable lot I never met with."
A dismayed silence followed this abrupt departure. It was broken by a
short, quick sigh from Drusie.
"Oh dear, oh dear!" she said, looking after Hal as he marched off with
as much dignity as he could. "I do wish that I had not bowled him. If
I had guessed that it would make him so cross, I would have sent him
easy, baby-balls."
"And got told for your pains that you could not bowl," Helen said with
much scorn. "I do wonder how you can be so silly, Drusie. I think it
serves Hal quite right. But I told you how it would be. I knew we
should not get our innings. You can't say that I did not warn you."
"No, we certainly can't," Jim said with a chuckle. "You have had a
sort of 'I told you so' expression on your face ever since we began to
play. And you know, Helen, if you ask me, I think it is all your fault
that Hal went off in such a huff. He simply couldn't stand your being
so awfully delighted when Drusie bowled him."
If Hal's sudden display of temper had struck dismay into the hearts of
his brothers and sisters, it had not left him particularly happy
either. Though he would not own it, even to himself, he had an
uncomfortable feeling that it was he who was conceited and
disagreeable. He was, however, full of excuses for himself, and when
his conscience pricked him he answered impatiently that nobody could be
expected to put up with the fearful airs that they had all been giving
themselves.
Then, looking round to see that he was not being followed, he made his
way to a hiding-place he had discovered behind the summer-house, and
proceeded to employ himself there after a fashion of which nurse would
most strongly have disapproved. He remained until the dinner-bell
rang, when he crept out with a pale face and with every bit of his
appetite gone.
He dined alone in the schoolroom, and nurse shook her head as his
plates were carried back to the nursery, for he had scarcely touched
anything that she had sent in to him.
"I hope, Master Hal, you are not going to be ill," she said, as soon as
dinner was over. "What has come to you? You have not eaten anything."
"I am not hungry," Hal muttered, flushing under her scrutinizing gaze.
"I have got rather a headache--that's all."
"Well, don't run about much in the sun," nurse said, only half
satisfied. "You are looking very pale. Put on your straw hat too;
that little cap is of no use at all. And don't go eating any green
apples or gooseberries. I expect you have been in the kitchen-garden
this morning, and that is what is the matter with you."
But it was neither green apples nor gooseberries which had given Hal
the very uncomfortable sensations from which he was suffering. That,
however, he did not explain to nurse; and feeling very wretched and
unhappy he wandered out into the garden, and flung himself under a big,
shady elm-tree. The others were nowhere in sight, and he felt injured
that they should, even after his conduct of the morning, have left him
to himself.
"A nice, sociable set they are," he said moodily. "Oh dear, how I do
wish that I had somebody sensible to play with!"
But though he chose to grumble, he knew perfectly well that he was not
just then in the humour to appreciate any society, however sensible,
and pillowing his head upon his arm he dropped off to sleep.
[Illustration: Hal asleep]
Meanwhile, Drusie had planned a busy afternoon for herself and the
others, for they intended to go to the fort and make ammunition for
Tuesday.
Few children had nicer grounds to play in than the Danvers children.
The garden was very large, and besides the lawn and the winding walks
among the shrubberies, which afforded such capital hiding-places when
they played hide-and-seek, there was the large kitchen-garden as well.
Beyond the kitchen-garden lay pleasant, sunny fields, at the foot of
which flowed a small stream that farther down joined the river in which
Jumbo had been so nearly drowned. On the other side of the stream lay
a long slip of land which Mr. Danvers always spoke of as a waste piece
of ground, and over which he sometimes threatened to send the plough.
But partly because the ground was really too poor to be of much good,
and partly because the children begged him to leave it alone, it had
never yet been disturbed, and the Wilderness, as they had named it,
remained theirs to all intents and purposes.
That the Wilderness was a brambly place could not be denied. It had
originally been a grove of nut trees, and though some of these still
flourished and bore nuts that had not their equal for size and flavour
in all the country-side, they had for the most part been strangled by
blackberry bushes and briers, and smothered by masses of wild clematis.
The fort stood in a corner of the Wilderness. Within a few yards of it
on one side was the stream; on the other and at the back it was
surrounded by densely-growing hawthorn bushes. But the front was open
and exposed to attack, for a cleared space in which only a few
scattered nut trees grew lay before it.
This fort had once been a summer-house, but it had long since been
disused, and would, no doubt, have fallen into decay, had not the
children hit upon the idea of making it the scene of their pitched
battles, and had so propped it up and strengthened it that it was
impossible to take except by surprise.
The door had been nailed up and so had the window, and entrance could
only be effected by scrambling up on the flat roof, and dropping
through a hole which had been made there for that purpose. Even that
hole could be closed by a hatch in time of need, and the besieged could
lie snugly inside and listen to the heavy firing without, secure in the
knowledge that as long as he chose to remain there none of the
besiegers could touch him. But then his flag would be in danger; and
by their rules of warfare, if the flag were captured or shot down, the
fort was held to have capitulated.
For more than a week before Hal's return from school the others had
been busy getting the ammunition ready; they had dug up a quantity of
sand from the bed of the stream, which, when mixed with a little clay
and moistened with water, represented cannon-balls. As, however, they
had no cannon, these balls had to be thrown by hand; and as they
scattered when they struck, they appeared more formidable than they
really were. But still one had been known to bring down the flag, and
so win the day for the besiegers.
The fort was mainly defended with a catapult loaded with mud pellets,
shot being strictly forbidden as too dangerous. To protect them the
besiegers wore a kind of helmet, which, though it gave them a somewhat
ludicrous appearance, saved them from many a nasty blow. These helmets
were neither more nor less than fine wire-gauze dish-covers, which they
tied across their faces and fastened at the back of their heads. But
the holder of the fort had to rely chiefly upon capture to win a
victory, and when his enemies approached too closely, a bold rush often
resulted in one of them being made prisoner. But, of course, even a
brief absence from the fort left the flag undefended, and there was
always a chance that, while one of the attackers was being pursued,
some of the others might steal up and succeed in going off with the
flag.
So it will be easily understood that courage and skill, combined with a
spirit that was bold and yet not too rash, were required to hold the
fort. And as none of them possessed these qualities to the same extent
as Hal, it followed that none of them held the fort as well as he did,
or made such a good fight of it.
Superintended by Drusie, they all worked very busily at the ammunition,
and as they kneaded cannon-balls and pellets they laid out a plan of
attack for the following Tuesday. Jim was of the opinion that they
never took enough advantage of the shelter afforded by the thick and
almost impenetrable bushes that grew on one side of the fort, and he
proposed that while two of them made an attack in the open air, he or
Drusie should lie concealed, and if Hal could be drawn out in pursuit
they might get a chance of slipping in during his absence.
"He may have brought back some new dodges," said Drusie hopefully. "I
wonder if he has ever played a game of this sort at school? Do you
think he has, Jim?"
Jim thought it was doubtful.
"I believe they always play cricket in the summer term," he said. "But
this will be a splendid change for him."
"I hope it will," said Drusie, with a sigh. "But I am simply not going
to think what we shall do if, after all our trouble, Hal turns up his
nose at a fight on Tuesday."
[Illustration: Hal running]
At tea-time Hal did not put in an appearance at all.
"He ought to be hungry," nurse said, "for he did not eat much dinner.
I wonder where he can be?"
Tea was over, and they had all gone out into the garden again for a
last stroll before bed-time, when they saw him come running across the
field, which was separated from the lawn by a sunk fence. Leaping
this, he rushed towards them, looking brighter and happier than he had
done since his return.
"I say," he called out; "whom do you think I have met this afternoon?
I have had such a splendid time; just guess."
They shook their heads; they could form no guess at all.
"Well, you will hardly believe it, but Dodds is down here. Dodds
Major," he added, seeing that somehow his news did not produce as much
effect as he had anticipated.
"Who is Dodds Major?" Drusie asked.
"Oh, how stupid you are!" Hal cried; "Why, I have told you about him in
my letters lots of times. He is out and away the nicest fellow in our
school. A big fellow, too, thirteen and a half, and simply splendid at
cricket. He is leaving at Christmas, and going to the college."
"Does he live down here?" said Drusie.
"No; he is staying at the Grange with his uncle, Captain Grey. He is
going to be here the whole holidays. Isn't it splendid for me?"
"Why," said Drusie, with a sudden sinking of her heart, "will you be
much with him?"
"Rather," said Hal; "as much as ever he will have me. Of course," he
added, with an important air, "he is jolly glad, too, to find another
fellow down here. We are going fishing to-morrow in Captain Grey's
trout stream. Dodds says that it is simply packed with fish. Won't
that be jolly? I was playing cricket with him all this afternoon. He
is going to play in a match that some friends of his uncle's are
getting up next week, and he says that perhaps he can get me into it
too. Won't that be jolly?"
In short, Hal was brimming over with good spirits. When, soon
afterwards, nurse called Helen and Tommy to come to bed, Hal invited
Drusie and Jim to come and sit with him while he had his tea, in order
that he might chatter to them of his doings that afternoon, and about
what he intended to do in future. And, of course, Dodds's name figured
largely in his conversation, and neither Drusie nor Jim could help
feeling rather glum as they heard how completely they were to be left
out in the cold.
"It was a lucky chance meeting him," Hal rattled on. "After dinner I
had a nap, and then I went for a stroll. I crossed over the river and
went up the field that lies next to the Wilderness, and there, sitting
on a gate, I saw Dodds. I can tell you I was surprised, and so was he.
We talked for a bit, and then he asked me to come and play cricket. We
had an awfully jolly afternoon, I can tell you," Hal added for the
fiftieth time, at least. "I am jolly glad that he is here."
"Will you ask him to come over here and play?" said Drusie. "It would
be rather nice to have some cricket with him--wouldn't it, Jim?"
Hal looked as though his ears had been deceiving him.
"What?" he said. "Ask Dodds over here to play with all of you? Why,
you must be out of your senses, Drusie. The idea of Dodds playing with
a girl! I say, how he would laugh!--We might have you, though,
sometimes, Jim; you would be useful for fielding. I will ask him
to-morrow if he would mind."
Jim, far from being overwhelmed at the possible honour in store for
him, privately made up his mind to decline it with thanks when the time
came.
While Hal had been speaking, a sudden idea had occurred to Drusie, and
her face lit up with eagerness and excitement.
"O Hal," she exclaimed, "I believe that Dodds Major is our boy--the
nice boy who rescued Jumbo, and who talked to us for such a long time."
Hal laughed scornfully.
"You don't know Dodds Major," he said. "He is not a bit like that.
Why, I tell you that he hates girls, and wouldn't take any notice at
all of any of you. Why, he is older even than I am."
"So was this boy," said Drusie. "But, of course, if you say that Dodds
Major is not nice, they cannot be the same."
"I never said Dodds was not nice," Hal said impatiently. "I only said
that he was not the sort of boy to play with girls. I expect that
fellow you met this morning was an awful muff."
[Illustration: Chapter IV headpiece]