The Children of the New Forest, Frederick Marryat [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

great piece of bacon hanging up there, and only to have to get on a stool to cut off what you want, when Edward and I come home hungry, and you’ve nothing to give us to eat?”

“I shall be very glad to have it, and I think so will you too, by the way you talk.”

“I shall, I assure you. Jacob, didn’t you say the ash sticks were the best to smoke bacon with?”

“Yes, boy: when you are ready, I’ll tell you how to manage. My poor mother used to smoke very well up this very chimney.”

“I think that will do,” said Humphrey, letting his hazel stick spring up, after he had bent it down, “but tomorrow I shall find out.”

“But what is it for, Humphrey?” said Edith.

“Go away, puss, and play with your kitten,” replied Humphrey, putting away his tools and his materials in a corner; “I’ve a great deal on my hands now, but I must kill my pigs before I think of any thing else.”

The next day Jacob took the venison into Lymington, and brought back the salt and other articles required. The pigs wore then killed, and salted down under Jacob’s directions; his rheumatism did not allow him to assist, but Humphrey and Edward rubbed in the salt, and Alice took the pieces of pork away to the tub when they were finished. Humphrey had been out the day before with the unknown article he had been so long about. The next morning he went out early before breakfast and when he returned, he brought a hare in his hand, which he laid on the table.

“There,” said he, “my spring has answered, and this is the first fruits of it. Now I’ll make some more, and we will have something by way of a change for dinner.”

They were very much pleased with Humphrey’s success, and he was not a little proud of it.

“How did you find out how to make it?”

“Why, I read in the old book of travels which Jacob brought home with him last summer, of people catching rabbits and hares in some way like this; I could not make it out exactly, but it gave me the idea.”

We ought to have told the reader that Jacob had more than once brought home an old book or two which he had picked up, or had given him, and that these had been occasionally looked into by Humphrey and Edward, but only now and then, as they had too much to do to find much time for reading, although sometimes, in the evening, they did take them up. When it is considered how young they were, and what a practical and busy life they led, this can not be surprising.

 

CHAPTER VII.

 

Humphrey was now after something else. He had made several traps, and brought in rabbits and hares almost every day. He had also made some bird-traps, and had caught two goldfinches for Alice and Edith, which they put in the cages he had made for them. But, as we said, Humphrey was about something else; he was out early in the morning, and in the evening, when the moon was up, he came home late, long after they had all gone to bed; but they never knew why, nor would he tell them. A heavy fall of snow took place, and Humphrey was more out than ever. At last, about a week after the snow had laid on the ground, one morning he came in with a hare and rabbit in his hand, and said,

“Edward, I have caught something larger than a hare or a rabbit, and you must come and help me, and we must take our guns. Jacob, I suppose your rheumatism is too bad to let you come too?”

“No; I think I can manage. It’s the damp that hurts me so much. This frosty air will do me good, perhaps. I have been much’ better since the snow fell. Now, then, let us see what you have caught.”

“You will have to walk two miles,” said Humphrey, as they went out.

“I can manage it, Humphrey, so lead the way.”

Humphrey went on till they came close to a clump of large trees, and then brought them to a pitfall which he had dug, about six feet wide and eight feet long, and nine feet deep.

“There’s my large trap,” said Humphrey, “and see what I have caught in it.”

They looked down into the pit and perceived a young bull in it. Smoker, who was with him, began to bark furiously at it.

“Now, what are we to do? I don’t think it is hurt. Can we get it out?” said Humphrey.

“No, not very well. If it was a calf, we might; but it is too heavy, and if we were to get it out alive, we must kill it after ward, so we had better shoot it at once.”

“So I think,” replied Humphrey.

“But how did you catch him?” said Edward.

“I read of it in the same book I did about the traps for hares,” replied Humphrey. “I dug out the pit and covered it with brambles, and then put snow at the top. This is the thicket that the herd comes to chiefly in winter time; it is large and dry, and the large trees shelter it; so that is why I chose this spot. I took a large bundle of hay, put some on the snow about the pit, and then strewed some more about in small handfuls, so that the cattle must find it, and pick it up, which I knew they would be glad to do, now that the snow is on the ground. And now, you see, I have succeeded.”

“Well, Humphrey, you beat us, I will say,” said Edward. “Shall I shoot him?”

“Yes, now that he is looking up.”

Edward shot his ball through the forehead of the animal, which fell dead: but they were then obliged to go home for the pony and cart, and ropes to get the animal out of the pit, and a hard job they had of it too; but the pony helped them, and they did get it out at last.

“I will do it easier next time,” said Humphrey. “I will make a windlass as soon as I can, and we will soon hoist out another, like they turn a bucket of water up from a well”

“It’s nice young meat,” said Jacob, who was skinning the bull, “not above eighteen months old, I should think. Had it been a full-grown one, like that we shot, it must have remained where it was, for we never could have got it out.”

“Yes, Jacob, we should, for I should have gone down and cut it up in the pit, so that we would have handed it out by bits, if we could not have managed him whole.”

They loaded the cart with the skin and quarters of the animal, and then drove home.

“This will go far to pay for the gun, Humphrey,” said Jacob, “if it don’t pay for more.” “I am glad of it,” said Humphrey, “but I hope it will not be the last which I take.”

“That reminds me, Humphrey, of one thing; I think you must come back with the cart and carry away all the entrails of the beast, and remove all the blood which is on the snow, for I’ve observed that cattle are very scared with the smell and sight of blood. I found that out by once or twice seeing them come to where I have cut the throat of a stag, and as soon as they have put their noses down to where the blood was on the ground, they have put their tails up and galloped away, bellowing at a terrible rate. Indeed, I’ve heard say, that if a murder has been committed in a wood, and you want to find the body, that a herd of cattle drove into it will serve you better than even a bloodhound.”

“Thank you for telling me that, Jacob, for I should never have supposed it, and I’ll tell you what I’ll also do; I’ll load the cart with fern litter, and put it at the bottom of the pit, so that if I could get a heifer or calf worth taking, it may not be hurt by the fall.”

“It must have taken you a long while to dig that pit, Humphrey.”

“Yes, it did, and as I got deeper the work was harder, and then I had to carry away all the earth and scatter it about. I was more than a month about it from the time that I began till it was finished, and I had a ladder to go up and down by at last, and carried the baskets of earth up, for it was too deep to throw it out.”

“Nothing like patience and perseverance, Humphrey. You’ve more than I have.”

“I’m sure he has more than I have, or shall ever have, I’m afraid,” replied Edward.

During this winter, which passed rapidly way very few circumstances of any consequence occurred. Old Jacob was more or less confined to the cottage by the rheumatism, and Edward hunted either by himself or occasionally with Humphrey. Humphrey was fortunate enough to take a bull and a cow calf in his pitfall, both of them about a year or fifteen months old, and by a rude invention of his, by way of windlass, contrived, with the assistance of Edward, to hoist them uninjured out of the pit. They were put into the yard, and after having been starved till they were tamed, they followed the example of the heifer and calf, and became quite tame. These were an important addition to their stock, as may well be imagined. The only mishap under which they labored was, old Jacob’s confinement to the cottage, which, as the winter advanced, prevented him from going to Lymington; they could not, therefore, sell any venison; and Humphrey, by way of experiment, smoked some venison hams, which he hung up with the others. There was another point on which they felt anxiety, which was, that Jacob could not cross the forest to get the puppies which had been promised them, and the time was passed, for it was now January, when he was to have called for them. Edward and Humphrey pressed the old man very hard to let one of them go, but the only answer they could obtain was “that he’d be better soon.” At last, finding that he got worse instead of better, he consented that Edward should go. He gave directions how to proceed, the way he was to take, and a description of the keeper’s lodge; cautioned him to call himself by the name of Armitage, and describe himself as his grandson. Edward promised to obey Jacob’s directions, and the next morning he set off, mounted upon White Billy, with a little money in his pocket in case he should want it.

“I wish I was going with you,” said Humphrey, as he walked by the side of the pony.

“I wish you were, Humphrey: for my part, I feel as if I were a slave set at liberty. I do justice to old Jacob’s kindness and good will, and acknowledge how much we are indebted to him; but still to be housed up here in the forest, never seeing or speaking to any one, shut out from the world, does not sun Edward Beverley. Our father was a soldier, and a right good one, and if I were old enough I think even now I should escape and join the royal party, broken as it may be and by all accounts is, at this moment. Deer stalking is all very well, but I fly at