Bevis Part 6

"Now, how stupid you are, Mark; I was just thinking. Now, do it again."

Mark did it again.

"Are you thinking?" he asked presently.

"Yes," whispered Bevis. They were so silent they heard the gra.s.shoppers singing in the gra.s.s, and the swallows twittering as they flew over, and the loud midsummer hum in the sky.

"Are you thinking?" asked Mark again. Bevis did not answer--he was asleep. Mark bent over him, and went on tickling, half dreamy himself, till he nodded, and his hat fell on Bevis, who sat up directly.

"I know."

"What is it?"

"It is not one sea," said Bevis; "it is a lot of seas. That's the Blue Sea, there," pointing to the stony bay where the water was still and blue under the sky. "That's the Yellow Sea, there," pointing to the low muddy sh.o.r.e where the summer snipe flew up, and where, as it was so shallow and so often disturbed by cattle, the water was thick for some yards out.

"And what is that out there!" said Mark, pointing southwards to the broader open water where the ripples were sparkling bright in the sunshine.

"That is the Golden Sea," said Bevis. "It is like b.u.t.terflies flapping their wings,"--he meant the flickering wavelets.

"And this round here," where the land trended to the left, and there was a deep inlet.

"It is the Gulf," said Bevis; "Fir-Tree Gulf," as he noticed the tops of fir-trees.

"And that up at the top yonder, right away as far as you can see beyond the Golden Sea?"

"That's the Indian Ocean," said Bevis; "and that island on the left side there is Serendib."

"Where Sinbad went?"

"Yes; and that one by it is the Unknown Island, and a magician lives there in a long white robe, and he has a serpent a hundred feet long coiled up in a cave under a bramble bush, and the most wonderful things in the world."

"Let's go there," said Mark.

"So we will," said Bevis, "directly we have got a ship."

"Write the names down," said Mark. "Put them on the map before we forget them."

Bevis wrote them on the map, and then they started again upon their journey. Where the gulf began they found a slight promontory, or jutting point, defended by blocks of stone; for here the waves, when the wind blew west or south, came rolling with all their might over the long broad Golden Sea from the Indian Ocean. Pan left them while they stood here, to hunt among the thistles in an old sand-quarry behind. He started a rabbit, and chased it up the quarry, so that when they looked back they saw him high up the side, peering into the bury. Sand-martins were flying in and out of their round holes. At one place there was only a narrow strip of land between the ocean and the quarry, so that it seemed as if its billows might at any time force their way in.

They left the sh.o.r.e awhile, and went into the quarry, and winding in and out the beds of nettles and thistles climbed up a slope, where they sank at every step ankle deep in sand. It led to a broad platform of sand, above which the precipice rose straight to the roots of the gra.s.s above, which marked the top of the cliff with brown, and where humble-bees were buzzing along the edge, and, bending the flowers down on which they alighted, were thus suspended in s.p.a.ce. In the cool recesses of the firs at the head of Fir-Tree Gulf a dove was cooing, and a great aspen rustled gently.

They took out their knives and pecked at the sand. It was hard, but could be pecked, and grooves cut in it. The surface was almost green from exposure to the weather, but under that white. When they looked round over the ocean they were quite alone: there was no one in sight either way, as far as they could see; nothing but the wall of sand behind, and the wide gleaming water in front.

"What a long way we are from other people," said Mark.

"Thousands of miles," said Bevis.

"Is it quite safe?"

"I don't know," doubtfully.

"Are there not strange creatures in these deserted places?"

"Sometimes," said Bevis. "Sometimes there are things with wings, which have spikes on them, and they have eyes that burn you."

Mark grasped his knife and spear, and looked into the beds of thistles and nettles, which would conceal anything underneath.

"Let's call Pan," he whispered.

Bevis shouted "Pan."

"Pan!" came back in an echo from another part of the quarry. "Pan!"

shouted Bevis and Mark together. Pan did not come. They called again and whistled; but he did not come.

"Perhaps something has eaten him," said Mark.

"Very likely," said Bevis. "We ought to have a charm. Don't forget next time we come to bring a talisman, so that none of these things can touch us."

"I know," said Mark. "I know." He took his spear and drew a circle on the platform of sand. "Come inside this. There, that's it. Now stand still here. A circle is magic, you know."

"So it is," said Bevis. "Pan! Pan!"

Pan did not come.

"What's in those holes?" said Mark, pointing to some large rabbit-burrows on the right side of the quarry.

"Mummies," said Bevis. "You may be sure there are mummies there, and very likely magic writings in their hands. I wish we could get a magic writing. Then we could do anything, and we could know all the secrets."

"What secrets?"

"Why, all these things have secrets."

"All?" said Mark.

"All," said Bevis, looking round and pointing with an arrow in his hand.

"All the trees, and all the stones, and all the flowers--"

"And these?" said Mark, picking up a sh.e.l.l.

"Yes, once; but can't you see it is dead, and the secret, of course, is gone. If we had a magic writing."

"Let's buy a book," said Mark.

"They are not books; they are rolls, and you unroll them very slowly, and see curious things, pictures that move over the paper--"

Boom!

They started. Mark lifted his spear, Bevis his bow. A deep, low, and slow sound, like thunder, toned from its many mutterings to a mighty sob, filled their ears for a moment. It might have been very distant thunder, or a cannon in the forts far away. It was one of those mysterious sounds that are heard in summer when the sky is clear and the wind soft, and the midsummer hum is loud. They listened, but it did not come again.