Part 8 (1/2)
”You must go up to the great oak-tree, dear,” said the toad, ”where you once went to sleep, and then go across to the wheat-field, and a little farther you will see a footpath, which will take you to another field, and you will see the copse on your right. Now the way into the copse is over a narrow bridge, it is only a tree put across the ditch, and you must be careful how you cross it, and hold tight to the hand-rail, and look where you put your feet. It is apt to be slippery, and the ditch beneath is very deep; there is not much water, but a great deal of mud.
I recollect it very well, though I have not been there for some time: I slipped off the bridge one rainy night in the dark, and had rather a heavy fall. The bridge is now dry, and therefore you can pa.s.s it easily if you do not leave go of the hand-rail. Good-morning, dear, I feel so sleepy--come and tell me with whom Kapchack has fallen in love; and remember me to the squirrel.” So saying the toad went back into his hole and went to sleep.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SQUIRREL.
All this talking had pa.s.sed away the morning, but in the afternoon, when the sun got a little lower, and the heat was not quite so great, Bevis, who had not been allowed to go out at noon, came forth again, and at once started up the Home Field. He easily reached the great oak-tree, and from there he knew his way to the corner of the wheat-field, where he stopped and looked for the hare, but she was not there, nor did she answer when he called to her. At the sound of his voice a number of sparrows rose from the wheat, which was now ripening, and flew up to the hedge, where they began to chatter about Kapchack's love affair.
Bevis walked on across the field, and presently found a footpath; he followed this, as the toad had instructed him, and after getting over two stiles there was the copse on the right, though he had to climb over a high gate to get into the meadow next to it. There was nothing in the meadow except a rabbit, who turned up his white tail and went into his hole, for having seen Bevis with the hare, whom he did not like, the rabbit did not care to speak to Bevis. When Bevis had crossed the meadow he found, just as the toad had said, that there was a very deep ditch round the copse, but scarcely any water in it, and that was almost hidden with weeds.
After walking a little way along the ditch he saw the tree which had been cut down and thrown across for a bridge. It was covered with moss, and in the shadow underneath it the hart's-tongue fern was growing.
Remembering what the toad had told him, Bevis put his hand on the rail--it was a willow pole--but found that it was not very safe, for at the end the wasps (a long time ago) had eaten it hollow, carrying away the wood for their nests, and what they had left had become rotten.
Still it was enough to steady his footsteps, and taking care that he did not put his foot on a knot, Bevis got across safely. There was a rail to climb over on the other side, and then he was in the copse, and began to walk down a broad green path, a road which wound in among the ash-wood.
n.o.body said anything to him, it was quite silent, so silent, that he could hear the snap of the dragon-fly's wing as he stopped in his swift flight and returned again. Bevis pulled a handful of long green rushes, and then he picked some of the burrs from the tall burdocks; they stuck to his fingers when he tried to fling them away, and would not go. The great thistles were ever so far above his head, and the humble-bees on them glanced down at him as he pa.s.sed. Bevis very carefully looked at the bramble-bushes to see how the blackberries were coming on; but the berries were red and green, and the flowers had not yet all gone. There was such a beautiful piece of woodbine hanging from one of the ash-poles that he was not satisfied till he had gathered some of it; the long brome-gra.s.s tickled his face while he was pulling at the honeysuckle.
He clapped his hands when he found some young nuts; he knew they were not ripe, but he picked one and bit it with his teeth, just to feel how soft it was. There were several very nice sticks, some of which he had half a mind to stay and cut, and put his hand in his pocket for his knife, but there were so many things to look at, he thought he would go on a little farther, and come back and cut them presently. The ferns were so tall and thick in many places that he could not see in among the trees. When he looked back he had left the place where he came in so far behind that he could not see it, nor when he looked round could he see any daylight through the wood; there was only the sky overhead and the trees and ash-stoles, and bushes, and thistles, and long gra.s.s, and fern all about him.
Bevis liked it very much, and he ran on and kicked over a bunch of tawny fungus as he went, till by-and-by he came to a piece of timber lying on the ground, and sat down upon it. Some finches went over just then; they were talking about Kapchack as they flew; they went so fast he could not hear much. But the squirrel was nowhere about; he called to him, but no one answered, and he began to think he should never find him, when presently, while he sat on the timber whistling very happily, something came round the corner, and Bevis saw it was the hare.
She ran up to him quickly, and sat down at his feet, and he stroked her very softly. ”I called for you at the wheat-field,” he said, ”but you were not there.”
”No, dear,” said the hare, ”the truth is, I have been waiting for ever so long to come into the copse on a visit to an old friend, but you must know that the weasel lives here.”
”Does the weasel live here?” said Bevis, starting up. ”Tell me where, and I will kill him; I will cut off his head with my knife.”
”I cannot tell you exactly where he lives,” said the hare, ”but it is somewhere in the copse. It is of no use your looking about; it is in some hole or other, quite hidden, and you would never find it. I am afraid to come into the copse while he is here; but this afternoon the dragon-fly brought me word that the weasel had gone out. So I made haste to come while he was away, as I had not seen my old friend the squirrel for ever so long, and I wanted to know if the news was true.”
”Do you mean about Kapchack?” said Bevis. ”I came to see the squirrel too, but I cannot find him.”
”Yes, I mean about Kapchack,” said the hare. ”Is it not silly of him to fall in love at his age? Why, he must be ten times as old as me! Really, I some times think that the older people get the sillier they are. But it is not much use your looking for the squirrel, dear. He may be up in the fir-tree, or he may be in the beech, or he may have gone along the hedge. If you were by yourself, the best thing you could do would be to sit still where you are, and he would be nearly sure to come by, sooner or later. He is so restless, he goes all over the copse, and is never very long in one place. Since, however, you and I have met, I will find him for you, and send him to you.”
”How long shall you be?” said Bevis. ”I am tired of sitting here now, and I shall go on along the path.”
”Oh, then,” said the hare, ”I shall not know where to find you, and that will not do. Now, I know what I will do. I will take you to the raspberries, and there you can eat the fruit till I send the squirrel.”
The hare leapt into the fern, and Bevis went after her. She led him in and out, and round the ash-stoles and bushes, till he had not the least idea which way he was going. After a time, they came to an immense thicket of bramble and thorn, and fern growing up in it, and honeysuckle climbing over it.
”It is inside this thicket,” said the hare. ”Let us go all round, and see if we can find a way in.”
There was a place under an ash-stole, where Bevis could just creep beneath the boughs (the boughs held up the brambles), and after going on his hands and knees after the hare a good way, he found himself inside the thicket, where there was an open s.p.a.ce grown over with raspberry canes. Bevis shouted with delight as he saw the raspberries were ripe, and began to eat them at once.
”How ever did they get here?” he asked.
”I think it was the thrush,” said the hare. ”It was one of the birds, no doubt. They take the fruit out of the orchards and gardens, and that was how it came here, I daresay. Now, don't you go outside the thicket till the squirrel comes. And when you have quite done talking to the squirrel, ask him to show you the way back to the timber, and there I will meet you, and lead you to the wheat-field, where you can see the oak-tree, and know your way home. Mind you do not go outside the thicket without the squirrel, or you will lose your way, and wander about among the trees till it is night.”
Off went the hare to find the squirrel, and Bevis set to work to eat as many of the raspberries as he could.
Among the raspberry canes he found three or four rabbit-holes, and hearing the rabbits talking to each other, he stooped down to listen.