ON THE MOORS.
AT first the boys kept to the main road, the hedges of which were
decked with primroses intermingled with clumps of wild hyacinths—
the bluebells of Devon; and myriads of scentless dog-violets, blooming
amid moss which spread luxuriantly everywhere, as a tender green
background for ferns and flowers. It was one of those days when the
fresh beauty of spring-time yet lingered, though summer was near
at hand. The air was fragrant with the scent of newly-turned earth,
mingling with the delicate perfumes of primroses and hyacinths, and
the whole world was full of budding life.
The boys had soon to leave the road for a narrow path, which led off
to the right, and presently they were on the desolate moor, away from
the green hedgerows. There were no flowers now but the yellow gorse,
and no moss but the hoary lichen which clung to the granite stones
and boulders, around which they picked their way. The heather was
springing freshly at the roots beneath the dead brown crop of the
preceding year.
"How hot it is!" Jack cried. "I wish there was a little shade! Oh,
Theo, listen to that lark!"
Both boys paused, and gazed upwards into the cloudless blue sky,
trying to discern the little songster as it carolled forth its glad
melody, so full of joy, as though in thanks to the Creator for the
gift of life.
"I can't see it! The sun dazzles my eyes!" Theodore said. "Oh, yes!
there it is, ever so high up!"
"Yes, I see it!" Jack exclaimed delightedly. "It seems to be going
higher and higher, right up to heaven almost! No, it is coming down!"
The glorious voice ceased as the lark fluttered gently down to the
earth.
"I expect it has a nest somewhere in the heather," Theodore remarked.
"Father says larks always build on the ground. Once I heard him
repeat a piece of poetry about the lark, but I forget it. I never
can remember poetry!"
"Wasn't it: 'Hark the lark at heaven's gate sings'?" Jack enquired;
then, as Theodore nodded assent, he continued: "I was thinking
of that when I saw it was right up to heaven almost. I wonder what
its song means, Theo? Isn't it wonderful, a small bird like that
should have such a wonderful voice? I expect God likes to hear it
sing!"
Theodore glanced at his stepbrother's bright face, and laughed
good-humouredly. Jack had such queer ideas he thought.
"Seth Stanley said the other day he was sure God liked everyone to be
happy," Jack proceeded eagerly, "and didn't want anyone to be
miserable; but sometimes even good people were melancholy, and he
supposed God made them so, like the owls who hate the sunshine.
I would rather be a singing-bird than an owl, I'm sure; though Seth
thinks God cares for both alike. What do you think, Theo?"
"Oh, I don't know anything about it, Jack! You're awfully odd,
you know, and so is Seth Stanley. Come along, we mustn't dawdle,
for we are not nearly at the Hermit's Cave yet."
The path now began to lead upwards towards the Tor, which they were
approaching by slow degrees. Jack's footsteps lagged somewhat, and at
length he suggested a rest by the way. Theodore demurred at first,
for he was eager to reach their destination; but seeing his
stepbrother was really tired he gave in; and they sat down on the
heather with their backs resting against a block of granite.
"Suppose we eat some of our cake?" Theodore suggested; "I'm as hungry
as a hunter; aren't you, Jack?"
"I think I'm more thirsty than hungry," Jack said; "I wish there was
some water near!"
"But there isn't! We're miles away from the Dart, and the further up
we go the further we shall be from getting anything to drink."
"Never mind!" Jack replied cheerfully. "I wonder what that old hermit
did for water?"
"I'm sure I can't say. I wish I had thought of bringing some in a
bottle, but it would have been a nuisance to carry. I expect
explorers have to go for days and days without water, so we must do
the same. Do try to eat some cake."
"Oh, yes, I will," Jack returned.
"Break it in half," Theodore advised, "and we'll eat a bit each,
and keep the rest till by-and-bye."
This they did. The fresh moorland air had sharpened their appetites,
and they found Mrs. Fry's home-made cake excellent. Theodore could
have eaten the whole of his slice, but he knew he would be hungrier
later on, so he carefully wrapped up the remaining half, and restored
it to his pocket.
"Look here," said Theodore, "we had better move on."
"Let us stay here a little longer," Jack said pleadingly; "there's no
hurry, is there?"
"Oh, no!" Theodore answered; "there's plenty of time. I wish we had
a watch, though!"
"Mr. Fry says he can tell the time by the sun," Jack remarked;
"he says it's better than any watch, because you can depend upon it.
But you are going to have a watch soon, aren't you, Theo?"
"Yes; father said he'd give me one on my next birthday. I should not
be surprised if he gave you one too."
"Oh, do you think he will?" Jack asked, flushing with delight at the
idea. "But no," he added, his face falling, "that is not likely."
"Why not? Why shouldn't you have one as well as me?" Theodore
enquired in surprise. "You would like a watch of your own, wouldn't
you?"
"Yes; but you and I are different. You are father's real son, Theo,
and I'm not."
"Oh, is that what you mean? Why, father thinks a lot of you, Jack;
he's awfully fond of you! And we're just like real brothers,
aren't we?"
"Oh, yes," Jack replied, smiling contentedly.
"I want you always to have the same as me," Theodore continued,
earnestly. "I shall tell father so; he will understand. I shouldn't
care for a watch unless you had one, too."
Theodore spoke truly, for never since he had first met his
stepbrother had he experienced the least jealousy on his account.
It had been so impossible to be jealous of the little lame invalid,
who had appealed to the pity and generosity of his chivalrous heart;
and by the time Jack had made a recovery, the two boys had become
deeply and sincerely attached to each other, and nothing had occurred
to interfere with their mutual love.
Theodore rarely spoke much of Mrs. Barton to Jack, but Jack was fully
aware that his stepbrother felt a sense of restraint in his mother's
presence, and was never quite the same happy, careless boy when she
was near. This surprised, as well as grieved him, but he had never
mentioned the subject to Theodore, dimly realising that he was
powerless to improve matters. Jack loved his mother dearly, and he
could not understand why Theodore should not too.
[Illustration: They had sometimes to go on their hands and knees.]
"We must really get on," Theodore said at length, after they had
rested themselves for a considerable time, idly watching a few
shaggy-maned ponies at a little distance, too timid to come near the
intruders.
So the boys rose, and proceeded on their way, which became rougher
and steeper the higher they climbed. They had sometimes to go on
their hands and knees, and Theodore laughed merrily, wondering what
Jane would say could she see them.
It was fine fun though! They thoroughly enjoyed the difficulties
to be overcome, for it was easy to imagine themselves explorers in a
foreign country. After leaving Mr. Fry in the farmyard they had not
met a living soul, or passed a human habitation, though they had
occasionally caught a glimpse of a lonely cottage or farm-house
on the slope of a distant hill.
The top of the Tor was reached at last, and both boys flung
themselves on the hard ground to regain their breath. Jack was
looking utterly done up, and he held his hand to his side.
"What's the matter?" Theodore asked, with a slight feeling of alarm.
"You are not ill, are you, old fellow?"
"No, Theo; I've got a stitch in my side though."
"Oh, that will soon pass. That's nothing. Keep still, and you'll be
all right in a few minutes."
Jack took his stepbrother's advice. Very soon he felt better, but he
still looked pale. "My legs shake so," he explained in an apologetic
tone. "What a long way we have come. Aren't you tired?"
"Not in the least. Don't you think you had better stay here and rest
whilst I go and find the Hermit's Cave?" Theodore suggested.
"Oh, no, no! I want to go with you. Don't leave me here. I'm all
right now."
"Let me see. Seth Stanley said the cave was on the north side of the
Tor," Theodore said reflectively; "now, which side is that,
I wonder?"
"I'm sure I don't know. The sun sets in the west; we ought to be able
to tell by that."
"But the sun is not setting yet. Still, the cave can't be on the
sunny side. That's certain. Let us try this way."
They set to work, searching amongst the boulders of granite, but it
was a long time before they could find any aperture which looked like
the entrance to a cave. At last, when they feared their quest was in
vain, and were almost in despair, Theodore gave an exultant cry.
He had discovered a hole between two blocks of granite, and called to
Jack to come and look.
"Yes, this must be it," Jack said, excitedly, "but I can't see
anything inside, Theo. Do you mean to go in?"
"Of course I do."
Theodore proceeded to pull an end of candle, about two inches
in length, and the box of wax matches he had purloined from Jane's
dressing-table, from the depths of his trousers' pockets.
"There!" he cried, triumphantly, as he struck a light and lit
the candle, which had become rather soft and bent.
"You think of everything, Theo," Jack exclaimed, admiringly.
"Shall we have to get into the cave through that hole? It's not big
enough."
"Oh, yes, it is; only we must crawl in. I'll go first, and you
follow. You aren't afraid, are you?"
"Oh, no!"
Theodore went down on his knees, and holding the lighted candle
in one hand, and feeling his way with the other, he disappeared
through the opening. A minute later Jack heard him utter an
exclamation of vexation and dismay; but he was reassured by the sound
of his stepbrother's voice saying:
"The candle's gone out; I'll light it again! Wait a minute, Jack.
There's plenty of room in here. Now then, come along."
With some misgivings Jack crawled through the opening. As he advanced
cautiously, there was more space, and when he reached Theodore's side
he found himself in a cave about six feet in height, and large enough
to hold several people comfortably. Theodore had successfully relit
his candle, and by its feeble light they examined the place,
afterwards sitting down on the stony floor side by side to talk
matters over.
"This is something like an adventure," Theodore commenced. "Aren't
you glad you came, Jack?"
"Yes," Jack replied, pleased with the novelty of the situation,
his misgivings entirely gone. "I never saw a cave before; did you?"
"Never. Fancy that old hermit living here by himself! I wonder what
made him do it!"
"I don't know. If he was a very good man, perhaps he didn't feel
lonely because he knew God was with him. But oh, Theo, I couldn't
bear to stay here! could you?"
"No; I should not like it by night," Theodore acknowledged, "though
it's very dry and comfortable. Don't you think we might have the rest
of our cake now?"
"I'm not hungry."
"Oh, nonsense; you must be. I'm simply starving."
But Jack's appetite had failed. He could not eat the remainder of his
cake; so when Theodore had disposed of his own share, he was
prevailed upon to finish his stepbrother's too.
They were both very thirsty; but it was no good dwelling on that
fact, as there was no water to be had anywhere. Even Theodore was a
little tired after their walk and climb, so that he was not as
restless and as eager to move about as usual.
They remained in the cave until their candle was nearly consumed;
then Jack suggested the advisability of making a start. He was the
first to crawl out of the cave, and Theodore followed immediately.
"How cold it is!" the latter exclaimed, as they rose to their feet
and looked around; "But there's no sun this side of the Tor—that's
how it is."
A faint blue mist was creeping over the hills. Jack noticed it
with an uneasy sensation; it looked so like the mist of evening.
"Let us go around to the sunny side," Theodore suggested, with a
shiver; "and then perhaps we had better start for home. It seems
later than I thought."
"But there is no sun," Jack said. "I think it must have set whilst we
were in the cave."
"Then we must go at once. Let me see—which way did we come up?"
"I—I don't know," Jack acknowledged falteringly.
The boys looked at each other in dismay. In which direction lay the
village of Naraton? Neither could tell. But Theodore did not want
to allow he was as ignorant as his companion. He peremptory bade
his stepbrother follow him, and started clambering down the Tor.
It had been a difficult climb up; it was far more difficult going
down. Once Jack stumbled, but though he cut his knees, he said it was
nothing, manfully shaking off the feeling of faintness which
threatened to overcome him. At last, however, he was obliged to ask
Theodore to allow him a few minutes to rest; and the two boys
sat down, whilst the faint blue mist crept nearer and nearer, and a
sense of despair took possession of each young heart.
"Oh, Jack!" said Theodore, with a catch in his breath which sounded
very like a sob, "what shall we do? We shall never get home?"
"Oh, yes, we shall," Jack replied reassuringly, "we'll start again
in a moment."
"But I don't know the way!" Theodore confessed.
"Nor do I! Shall we ask God to show it to us, Theo?"
"You ask Him, will you, old fellow?"
Jack readily complied. Kneeling on the heather, in spite of his
injured knees, he lifted up his voice in prayer to God for help and
guidance, whilst Theodore's heart echoed the petition, though his
lips uttered no sound. They did not seek to hide their true position
from each other any longer, but bravely faced the fact that they had
lost their way, and might very probably be obliged to spend the night
on the moor, whilst they were being sought for in vain.