Of corse even a kid can get a good idea sometimes, and Maine, who I was
fagging for, said afterwards that the idea was alright. Whether young
Bailey or me thort of it first I don’t know, but Maine lent me a book
about coarseers and buckeneers and such like people, and he said it was
a great life, though not much followed in present times. He was no good
for a coarseer himself, becorse the sea always made him dredfully bad,
and, besides, he was going to be a bushranger some day, being an
Australian and well up in it. But he said that Drake and Raleigh and
many other men in our English history were buckeneers of the dedliest
sort and had made England what it was; so me and Bailey thort a lot
about it and wished a good deal we could begin that sort of life. Bailey
said that in the books he’d read, if a boy began young, he was generally
a super cargo and went on getting grater and grater slowly; but I thort
boys began as cabin-boys and got grater very quickly by resquing people.
But Bailey said that was only in books, and that nobody got on quickly
at sea owing to the compettitishun. He did not much think there were any
buckeneers left, but Maine said there were, cheefly off the coast of
Africa, and that daring and dedly deeds were done in the Mediterranan to
this day. He said the lawlessness there was awful, and that nobodi knew
what went on along the north side of Africa in little bays and inletts
there not marked on maps.
When Bailey herd that, he took more interest in it and wished he had
been born the son of a pirit insted of a doctor, because he said we
should have come eesily to it if our fathers had been in that corse of
life; but when I told Maine, he sed that the best and most splendid
pirits had had to overcome grate dificultees in their youth, and that it
was the pirit who began as a meer boy at school who often made the
gratest name.
Bailey sed he was a pirit at heart, and I sed I was to; but not untell
we red a butiful book by Stevenson could we see any way to be one
reelly. Then we saw that we must go away from Merivale in secret--in
fact, we must fly; and Bailey sed it would have to be by night to avoid
capture, and Maine sed it was so. But it was a tremendous thing to do,
and I asked Bailey about his mother, and Bailey sed his mother would
blub a good deal at first, but she would live to be proud of him when
his name was wringing through England. And I felt the same in a way,
becorse, though I have got no mother to blub, I have got an uncle, who
is my gardian, and he is a lawer and a Conservitive who has tried to get
into Parleyment and failed.
Then me and Bailey talked it out when chaps were asleep in our
dormitory, and the thing was what we should reelly and truly be, becorse
there were coarseers and buckeneers and pirits, and they all had their
own pekuliar ways. So we asked Maine which was best, and he sed
“buckeneers.” He didn’t seem to know exacktly what a coarseer was; but
he told us all about pirits, and he sed they kill womin and childrin,
and Bailey said he’d rather be a docter, like his father, than do that,
and I said the same. But a buckeneer is very diferent, being like
Raleigh and Drake; and a buckeneer may have his name wringing through
England, but a pirit never has, being rather a beast reelly. Maine sed
it was like this: a pirit always thinks of himself, and nobody else; but
the best sort of buckeneer thinks of himself, of corse, but thinks of
his country to; and after he has replennished his coffers he makes his
soverein a present of islands, and so on, which are gennerally called
after him, so that his name may never be forgottun. And Bailey sed that
was the sort he wanted to be, and I sed so to.
We thanked Maine a good deal, and he sed it was a big idea for such kids
as us to get, and hoped we were made of the right stuff, and promised
not to say a word to a soul. And we finally desided to try it, and
Bailey sed we must have a plan of ackshun; so we made one.
He said we must run away and work gradully by night to the coast and go
to Plymouth, and get into the docks, and find a ship bound for the north
coste of Africa. I asked him what next, and he sed, very truly, that
that was enuff to begin with, and that by the time we had done that much
manny adventures would have fallen to our lot, and we might alredy be in
the way to become buckeneers. And I sed I hoped we should make freends
at sea; but he sed the fewer freends we made the better buckeneers we
should probbably be, because it is not a life where you can make freends
safely. In fact, no reel buckeneer would trust his own brother a yard.
And I sed that we must trust one annuther at any rate. And Bailey sed,
as far as that went, he supposed we must; but he sed it relluctantly.
The thing was then to save up for the diferent weppons. Maine sed we
shouldn’t want arms, and that money was all we should require till we
got down south; but Bailey felt sure we must at leest have pistells,
becorse in books the man armed to the teath is never mollested if people
know, but the unarmed man often looses his life for want of a weppon. We
had one shilling pocket-money a week each, and Bailey getting a
birthday, very fortunately, made a whole pound by it after we had been
saving for three weeks. So between us we suddinly had one pound six
shillings, and Bailey sed it was share and share alike for the present,
and always would be unless some dedly hatred sprang up between us. And I
sed it never would; but he sed it might, and if it did, it would
probabbly be about a girl if books were true. And I larfed, becorse we
both have a grate contemp for all girls.
Well, things went alright, and on a half-holiday we managed to get to
Merivale and buy pistells. They were five shillings and sixpence each,
and the man didn’t seem to much like selling them; but we got them, and
amunition--fifty rounds each. And Bailey sed that would be enough. Maine
sed they were very good pistells for close work, but advised us never to
use them unless in soar straights. And we sed we wouldn’t.
It was the day of the menaggeree at Merivale that me and Bailey finally
took the grate step of going. We had collected a lot of food, and
studdied geography so as to get to Plymouth, and we arranged that we
should travel by night and hide by day in the hart of impennetrable
woods, which we did. After the menaggeree, at a certain point on the way
home, we slipped it round a corner, and Thompson didn’t see us, and in a
breef time we were at the edge of Merivale Woods, free.
“To-night,” Bailey sed, “we will get across this forest and do eight or
ten miles along the high-road, and so reach Oakshott Woods at dawn. They
are on the edge of the moor and quite impennetrable.”
So we got well into Merivale Woods first and made a lair of braken under
a fir-tree. And we cut off some of the fir-tree bark and licked the sap,
which is very nourishing and feeding, because we wanted to save our food
as much as possible. But we had each a cold sorsage and a drink of
water. And then night came on, and I felt, for the first time, that we
had done a tremendous deed.
“We’re fairly started,” I sed to Bailey. “It’s just call over at
Merivale now.”
And he sed, “Yes; if the fellows in the upper third could only see us!”