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

brought up as the heir of Arnwood; and a boy at a very early age imbibes notions of his position, if it promises to be a high one. He was not two miles from that property which by right was his own. His own mansion had been reduced to ashes —he himself was hidden in the forest; and he could but not feel his position. He sighed for the time when the king’s cause should be again triumphant, and his arrival at that age when he could in person support and uphold the cause. He longed to be in command, as his father had been—to lead his men on to victory—to recover his property, and to revenge himself on those who had acted so cruelly toward him. This was human nature; and much as Jacob Armitage would expostulate with him, and try to divert his feelings into other channels—long as he would preach to him about forgiveness of injuries, and patience until better times should come, Edward could not help brooding over these thoughts, and if ever there was a breast animated with intense hatred against the Puritans, it was that of Edward Beverley. Although this was to be lamented, it could not create surprise or wonder in the old forester. All he could do was, as much as possible to reason with him, to soothe his irritated feelings, and by constant employment try to make him forget for a time the feelings of ill-will which he had conceived.

One thing was, however, sufficiently plain to Edward, which was, that whatever might be his wrongs, he had not the power at present to redress them; and this feeling, perhaps, more than any other, held him in some sort of check; and as the time when he might have an opportunity appeared far distant, even to his own sanguine imagination, so by degrees did he contrive to dismiss from his thoughts what it was no use to think about at present.

 

CHAPTER V.

 

As we have before said, time passed rapidly; with the exception of one or two excursions after venison, they remained in the cottage, and Jacob never went to Lymington. The frost had broken up, the snow had long disappeared, and the trees began to bud. The sun became powerful, and in the month of May the forest began again to look green.

“And now, Edward,” said Jacob Armitage, one day at breakfast, “we will try for venison again to sell at Lymington, for I must purchase Humphrey’s cart and harness; so let us get our guns, and go out this fine morning. The stags are mostly by themselves at this season, for the does are with their young calves. We must find the slot of a deer, and track him to his lair, and you shall have the first shot if you like; but, that, however, depends more upon the deer than upon me.”

They had walked four or five miles when they came upon the slot or track of a deer, but Jacob’s practiced eye pointed out to Edward that it was the slot of a young one, and not worth following. He explained to Edward the difference in the hoof-marks and other signs by which this knowledge was gained, and they proceeded onward until they found another slot, which Jacob declared to be that of a warrantable stag— that is, one old enough to kill and to be good venison.

“We must now track him to his lair, Edward.”

This took them about a mile farther, when they arrived at a small thicket of thorns about an acre in extent.

“Here he is, you see, Edward; let me now see if he is harbored.”

They walked round the thicket, and could not find any slot or track by which the stag had left the covert, and Jacob pronounced that the animal must be hid in it.

“Now, Edward, do you stay here while I go back to the lee side of the covert: I will enter it with Smoker, and the stag will, in all probability, when he is roused, come out to breast the wind. You will then have a good shot at him; recollect to fire so as to hit him behind the shoulder: if he is moving quick, fire a little before the shoulders; if slow, take aim accurately; but recollect, if I come upon him in the covert, I shall kill him if I can, for we want the venison, and then we will go after another to give you a chance.”

Jacob then left Edward, and went down to the lee side of the covert, where he entered it with Smoker. Edward was stationed behind a thorn-bush, which grew a few yards clear of the covert, and he soon heard the creaking of the branches.

A short time elapsed, and a fine stag came out at a trot; he turned his head, and was just bounding away when Edward fired, and the animal fell. Remembering the advice of Jacob, Edward remained where he was, in silence reloading his piece, and was soon afterward joined by Jacob and the dog.

“Well done, Edward!” said the forester, in a low voice; and, covering his forehead to keep off the glare of the sun, he looked earnestly at a high brake between some thorn-trees, about a half a mile to the windward. “I think I see something there—look Edward, your eyes are younger than mine. Is that the branch of a tree in the fern, or is it not?”

“I see what you mean,” replied Edward. “It is not, it moves.”

“I thought so, but my eyes are not so good as they once were. It’s another stag, depend upon it; but how are we to get near him? We never can get across this patch of clear grass without being seen.”

“No, we can not get at him from this spot,” replied Edward; “but if we were to fall back to leeward, and gain the forest again, I think that there are thorns sufficient from the forest to where he lies, to creep from behind one to the other, so as to get a shot at him, don’t you?”

“It will require care and patience to manage that; but I think it might be done. I will try it; it is my turn now, you know. You had better stay here with the dog, for only one can hide from thorn to thorn.”

Jacob, ordering Smoker to remain, then set off. He had to make a circuit of three miles to get to the spot where the thorns extended from the forest, and Edward saw no more of him, although he strained his eyes, until the stag sprung out, and the gun was discharged. Edward perceived that the stag was not killed, but severely wounded, running toward the covert near which he was hid. “Down, Smoker,” said he, as he cocked his gun. The stag came within shot, and was coming nearer, when, seeing Edward, it turned. Edward fired, and then cheered on the dog, who sprung after the wounded animal, giving tongue, as he followed him. Edward, perceiving Jacob hastening toward him, waited for him.

“He’s hard hit, Edward,” cried Jacob, “and Smoker will have him; but we must follow as fast as we can.”

They both caught up their guns and ran as fast as they could, when, as they entered the wood, they heard the dog at bay.

“We shan’t have far to go, Edward; the animal is done up: Smoker has him at bay.”

They hastened on another quarter of a mile, when they found that the stag had fallen on his knees, and had been seized by the throat by Smoker.

“Mind, Edward, now, how I go up to him, for the wound from the horn of the deer is very dangerous.”

Jacob advanced from behind the stag, and cut his throat with his hunting-knife. “He is a fine beast, and we have done well to-day, but we shall have two journeys to make to get all this venison home. I could not get a fair shot at him—and see, I have hit him here in the flank.”

“And here is my ball in his throat,” said Edward.

“So it is. Then it was a good shot that you made, and you are master of the hunt this day, Edward. Now, I’ll remain, and you go home for White Billy. Humphrey is right about the cart. If we had one, we could have carried all home at once; but I must go now and cut the throat of the other stag which you killed so cleverly. You will be a good hunter one of these days, Edward. A little more knowledge, and a little more practice, and I will leave it all to you, and hang up my gun over the chimney.”

It was late in the evening before they had made their two trips and taken all the venison home, and very tired were they before it was safely housed. Edward was delighted with his success, but not more so than was old Jacob. The next morning, Jacob set off for Lymington, with the pony loaded with venison, which he sold, as well as two more loads which he promised to bring the next day, and the day after. He then looked out for a cart, and was fortunate in finding a small one, just fitted to the size of the pony, who was not tall but very strong, as all the New Forest ponies are. He also procured harness, and then put Billy in the cart to draw him home; but Billy did not admire being put in a cart, and for some time was very restive, and backed and reared, and went every way but the right; but by dint of coaxing and leading, he at last submitted, and went straight on; but then the noise of the cart behind him frightened him, and he ran away. At last, having tired himself out, he thought that he might as well go quietly in harness, as he could not get out of it; and he did so, and arrived safe at the cottage. Humphrey was delighted at the sight of the cart, and said that now they should get on well. The next day, Jacob contrived to put all the remainder of the venison in the cart, and White Billy made no more difficulty; he dragged it all to Lymington, and returned with the cart as quietly and cleverly as if he had been in harness all his life.

“Well, Edward, the venison paid for the cart at all events,” said Jacob, “and now, I will tell you all the news I collected while I was at Lymington. Captain Burly, who attempted to incite the people to rescue the king, has been hung, drawn, and quartered, as a traitor.”

“They are traitors who condemned him,” replied Edward, in wrath.

“Yes, so they are; but there is better news, which is, that the Duke of York has escaped to Holland.”

“Yes, that is good news; and the king?”

“He is still a prisoner in Carisbrook Castle. There are many rumors and talks, but no one knows what is true and what is false; but depend upon it, this can not last long, and the king will have his rights yet.”

Edward remained very grave for some time.

“I trust in Heaven we all shall have our rights yet, Jacob,” said he at last. “I wish I was a man!”

Here the conversation ended, and they went to bed.

This was now a busy time at the cottage. The manure had to be got out of the stable and pigsties, and carried out to the potato-ground and garden; the crops had to be put in, and the cart was now found valuable. After the manure had been carried out and spread, Edward and Humphrey helped Jacob