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

decided upon attempting to cross it. Edward, who was one moment watching the motions of Humphrey, and at another that of the two animals nearest to them, perceived that the white bull farthest from him, but nearest to Humphrey, threw its head in the air, pawed with his foot, and then advanced with a roar to where Humphrey was on the ground, still crawling toward the tree, having passed the open spot, and being now not many yards from the tree. Perceiving the danger that his brother was in, and that, moreover, Humphrey himself was not aware of it, he hardly knew how to act. The bull was too far from him to fire at it with any chance of success; and how to let Humphrey know that the animal had discovered him and was making toward him, without calling out, he did not know. All this was the thought of a moment, and then Edward determined to fire at the bull nearest to him, which he had promised not to do till Humphrey was also ready to fire, and after firing to call to Humphrey. He therefore, for one moment, turned away from his brother, and, taking aim at the bull, fired his gun; but probably from his nerves being a little shaken at the idea of Humphrey being in danger, the wound was not mortal, and the bull galloped back to the herd, which formed a closed phalanx about a quarter of a mile distant. Edward then turned to where his brother was, and perceived that the bull had not made off with the rest of the cattle, but was within thirty yards of Humphrey, and advancing upon him, and that Humphrey was standing up beside the tree with his gun ready to file. Humphrey fired, and, as it appeared, he also missed his aim; the animal made at him; but Humphrey, with great quickness, dropped his gun, and, swinging by the lower boughs, was into the tree, and out of the bull’s reach in a moment. Edward smiled when he perceived that Humphrey was safe; but still he was a prisoner, for the bull went round and round the tree roaring and looking up at Humphrey. Edward thought a minute, then loaded his gun, and ordered Smoker to run in to the bull. The dog, who had only been restrained by Edward’s keeping him down at his feet, sprung forward to the attack. Edward had intended, by calling to the dog, to induce the bull to follow it till within gunshot; but before the bull had been attacked, Edward observed that one or two more of the bulls had left the herd, and were coming at a rapid pace toward him. Under these circumstances, Edward perceived that his only chance was to climb into a tree himself, which he did, taking good care to take his gun and ammunition with him. Having safely fixed himself in a forked bough, Edward then surveyed the position of the parties. There was Humphrey in the tree, without his gun. The bull who had pursued Humphrey was now running at Smoker, who appeared to be aware that he was to decoy the bull toward Edward, for he kept retreating toward him. In the mean time, the two other bulls were quite close at hand, mingling their bellowing and roaring with the first; and one of them as near to Edward as the first bull, which was engaged with Smoker. At last, one of the advancing bulls stood still, pawing the ground as if disappointed at not finding an enemy, not forty yards from where Edward was perched. Edward took good aim, and when he fired the bull fell dead. Edward was reloading his piece when he heard a howl, and looking round, saw Smoker flying up in the air, having been tossed by the first bull; and at the same time he observed that Humphrey had descended from the tree, recovered his gun, and was now safe again upon the lower bough.

The first bull was advancing again to attack Smoker, who appeared incapable of getting away, so much was he injured by the fall, when the other bull, who apparently must have been an old antagonist of the first, roared and attacked him; and now the two boys were up in the tree, the two bulls fighting between them, and Smoker lying on the ground, panting and exhausted. As the bulls, with locked horns, were furiously pressing each other, both guns were discharged, and both animals fell. After waiting a little while to see if they rose again, or if any more of the herd came up, Edward and Humphrey descended from the trees and heartily shook hands.

 

CHAPTER XII.

 

“A narrow escape, Humphrey!” said Edward as he held his brother’s hand.

“Yes, indeed, we may thank Heaven for our preservation,” replied Humphrey; “and poor Smoker! let us see if he is much hurt.”

“I trust not,” said Edward, going up to the dog, who remained quite still on the ground, with his tongue out, and panting violently.

They examined poor Smoker all over very carefully, and found that there was no external wound; but on Edward pressing his side, the animal gave a low howl.

“It is there where the horn of the bull took him,” observed Humphrey.

“Yes,” said Edward, pressing and feeling softly: “and he has two of his ribs broken. Humphrey, see if you can get him a little water, that will recover him more than any thing else; the bull has knocked the breath out of his body. I think he will soon be well again, poor fellow.”

Humphrey soon returned with some water from a neighboring pool. He brought it in his hat and gave it to the dog, who lapped it slowly at first, but afterward much faster, and wagging his tail.

“He will do now,” said Edward; “we must give him time to recover himself. Now then, let us examine our quarry. Why, Humphrey, what a quantity of meat we have here! It will take three journeys to Lymington at least.”

“Yes, and no time to lose, for the weather is getting warm already, Edward. Now what to do? Will you remain while I go home for the cart?”

“Yes, it’s no use both going; I will stay here and watch poor Smoker, and take off the skins ready by the time you are back again. Leave me your knife as well as my own, for one will soon be blunt.”

Humphrey gave his knife to Edward, and taking up his gun, set off for the cottage. Edward had skinned two of the bulls before Humphrey’s return; and Smoker, although he evidently was in great pain, was on his legs again. As soon as they had finished and quartered the beasts, the cart was loaded and they returned home; they had to return a second time, and both the pony and they were very tired before they sat down to supper They found the gipsy boy very much recovered and in good spirits. Alice said that he had been amusing Edith and her by tossing up three potatoes at a time, and playing them like balls; and that he has spun a platter upon an iron skewer and balanced it on his chin. They gave him some supper, which he ate in the chimney corner, looking up and staring every now and then at Edith, to whom he appeared very much attached already.

“Is it good?” said Humphrey to the boy, giving him another venison steak.

“Yes; not have so good supper in pithole,” replied Pablo, laughing.

Early on the following morning, Edward and Humphrey set off to Lymington with the cart laden with meat. Edward showed Humphrey all the shops and the streets they were in where the purchases were to be made—introduced him to the landlord of the hostelry—and having sold their meat, they returned home. The rest of the meat was taken to Lymington and disposed of by Humphrey on the following day; and the day after that the three skins were carried to the town and disposed of.

“We made a good day’s work, Edward,” said Humphrey, as he reckoned up the money they had made.

“We earned it with some risk, at all events,” replied Edward; “and now, Humphrey, I think it is time that I keep my promise to Oswald, and go over to the intendant’s house, and pay my visit to the young lady, as I presume she is—and certainly she has every appearance of being one. I want the visit to be over, as I want to be doing.”

“How do you mean, Edward?”

“I mean that I want to go out and kill some deer, but I will not do it till after I have seen her: when I shall have acquitted myself of my visit, I intend to defy the intendant and all his verderers.”

“But why should this visit prevent you going out this very day, if so inclined?”

“I don’t know, but she may ask me if I have done so, and I do not want to tell her that I have; neither do I want to say that I have not, if I have; and therefore I shall not commence till after I have seen her.”

“When will you set off?”

“Tomorrow morning; and I shall take my gun, although Oswald desired me not; but after the fight we had with the wild cattle the other day, I don’t think it prudent to be unarmed; indeed, I do not feel comfortable without I have my gun, at any time.”

“Well, I shall have plenty to do when you are away—the, potatoes must be hoed up, and I shall see what I can make of Master Pablo. He appears well enough, and he has played quite long enough, so I shall take him with me to the garden tomorrow, and set him to work. What a quantity of fruit there is a promise of in the orchard this year! And Edward, if this boy turns out of any use, and is a help to me, I think that I shall take all the orchard into garden, and then inclose another piece of ground, and see if we can not grow some corn for ourselves. It is the greatest expense that we have at present, and I should like to take my own corn to the mill to be ground.”

“But will not growing corn require plow and horses?” said Edward.

“No; we will try it by hand: two of us can dig a great deal at odd times, and we shall have a better crop with the spade than with the plow. We have now so much manure that we can afford it.”

“Well, if it is to be done, it should be done at once, Humphrey, before the people from the other side of the forest come and find us out, or they will dispute our right to the inclosure.”

“The forest belongs to the king, brother, and not to the Parliament; and we are the king’s liege men, and only look to him for permission,” replied Humphrey; “but what you say is true: the sooner it is done the better, and I will about it at once.”

“How much do you propose fencing in?”

“About two or three acres.”

“But that is more than you can dig this year or the next.”

“I know that; but I will manure it without digging, and the grass will grow so rich to what it will outside of the inclosure. that they will suppose it has been inclosed a long while.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Humphrey; but I advise you to look well after that boy, for he is of a bad race, and has not been brought up, I am afraid, with too strict notions of honesty. Be careful, and tell your sisters also to be cautious