Part 5 (1/2)

”I will show you,” said the weasel. ”I will walk along the bank till I am just in a line with the thrush's nest, and then you can take aim at both together.”

So he went along the bank and stopped behind the nest, and Bevis moved his cannon-stick and took another aim.

”Dear me!” cried the thrush, dreadfully alarmed, ”you surely are not going to shoot me? I never did any harm. Bevis, stop--listen to me!”

Now if the thrush had flown away she might have escaped, but she was very fond of talking, and while she was talking Bevis was busy getting his gun ready.

”It is straight now,” said the weasel; ”it is pointed quite straight.

Hold it still there, and I will sit so that I shall die quick;--here is my bosom. Tell the hare to forgive me.”

”Oh,” said the thrush, ”don't shoot!”

”Shoot!” cried the weasel.

Bevis dropped his match on the touch-hole, puff went the priming, and bang went the cannon. Directly the smoke had cleared away, Bevis looked in the ditch, to see the dead weasel and the thrush. There was the thrush right enough, quite dead, and fallen out of the nest; the nest, too, was knocked to pieces, and the eggs had fallen out (two were broken), but there was one not a bit smashed, lying on the dead leaves at the bottom of the ditch. But the weasel was nowhere to be seen.

”Weasel,” cried Bevis, ”where are you?” But the weasel did not answer.

Bevis looked everywhere, over the bank and round about, but could not find him. At last he saw that under some gra.s.s on the bank there was a small rabbit's-hole. Now the weasel had sat up for Bevis to shoot him right over this hole, and when he saw him move the match, just as the priming went puff, the weasel dropped down into the hole, and the shot went over his head.

Bevis was very angry when he saw how the weasel had deceived him, and felt so sorry for the poor thrush, whose speckled breast was all pierced by the shot, and who would never sing any more. He did not know what to do, he was so cross; but presently he ran home to fetch Pan, to see if Pan could hunt out the weasel.

When he had gone a little way the weasel came out of the hole, and went down into the ditch and feasted on the thrush's egg, which he could not have got had not the shot knocked the nest to pieces, just as he had contrived. He never tasted so sweet an egg as that one, and as he sucked it up he laughed as he thought how cleverly he had deceived them all.

When he heard Pan bark he went back into the hole, and so along the hedge till he reached the copse; and then creeping into another hole, a very small one, where no dog could get at him, he curled himself up very comfortably and went to sleep.

CHAPTER IV.

BROOK-FOLK.

Some time afterwards it happened one morning that Bevis was sitting on a hayc.o.c.k in the Home Field, eating a very large piece of cake, and thinking how extremely greedy the young rook was yonder across the meadow. For he was as big and as black as his father and mother, who were with him; and yet he kept on cawing to them to stuff his beak with sweets. Bevis, who had another large slice in his pocket, having stolen both of them from the cupboard just after breakfast, felt angry to see such greediness, and was going to get up to holloa at this ill-mannered rook, when he heard a gra.s.shopper making some remarks close by the hayc.o.c.k.

”S----s,” said the gra.s.shopper to a friend, ”are you going down to the brook? I am, in a minute, so soon as I have hopped round this hayc.o.c.k, for there will be a grand show there presently. All the birds are going to bathe, as is their custom on Midsummer Day, and will be sure to appear in their best feathers. It is true some of them have bathed already, as they have to leave early in the morning, having business elsewhere. I spoke to the cricket just now on the subject, but he could not see that it was at all interesting. He is very narrow-minded, as you know, and cannot see anything beyond the mound where he lives.

S----s.”

”S----s,” replied the other gra.s.shopper; ”I will certainly jump that way so soon as I have had a chat with my lady-love, who is waiting for me on the other side of the furrow. S----s.”

”S----s, we shall meet by the drinking-place,” said the first gra.s.shopper; and was just hopping off when Bevis asked him what the birds went down to bathe for.

”I'm sure I do not know,” said the gra.s.shopper, speaking fast, for he was rather in a hurry to be gone, he never could stand still long together. ”All I can tell you is that on Midsummer Day every one of the birds has to go down to the brook and walk in and bathe; and it has been the law for so many, many years that no one can remember when it began.

They like it very much, because they can show off their fine feathers, which are just now in full colour; and if you like to go with me you will be sure to enjoy it.”

”So I will,” said Bevis, and he followed the gra.s.shopper, who hopped so far at every step that he had to walk fast to keep up with him. ”But why do the birds do it?”

”Oh, I don't know why,” said the gra.s.shopper; ”what is why?”

”I want to know,” said Bevis, ”why do they do it?”