Bevis Part 69

"So we did. It will do for breakfast."

The damper was raked out of the ashes, and having been left to itself was found to be well done, but rather burned on one side. When the burnt part had been sc.r.a.ped off, and the ashes blown from it, it tasted very fair, but extremely dry.

"The b.u.t.ter won't last long," said Mark presently, as they sat down to breakfast on the ground at their two boards. "We ought to have another shipload."

"Tables without legs are awkward," said Bevis, whose face was heated from tending the fire they had lit and boiling the kettle. "The difficulty is, where to put your knees."

"Or else you must lie down. We could easily make some legs."

"Drive short stakes into the ground, and put the boards on the top,"

said Bevis. "So we will presently. The table ought to be a little one side of the doorway, as we can't wheel it along out of the way."

"Big stumps of logs would do for stools," said Mark. "Saw them off short, and stand them on end."

"The sun's very warm," said Bevis.

The morning sunshine looked down into their courtyard, so that they had not the least shade.

"The awning ought to be put up here over our table."

"Let's put it up, then. I say, how rough your hair looks."

"Well, you look as if you had not washed. Shall we go and have a swim?"

"Yes. Put the things away; here's the towels."

They replaced their breakfast things anywhere, leaving the teapot on the bed, and went down to the water, choosing the sh.o.r.e opposite Serendib, because on that side there were no weeds.

As they came down to the strand, already tearing off their coats, they stopped to look at the New Sea, which was still, smooth, and sunlit.

Though it was so broad it did not seem far to-day to the yellow cliff of the quarry, to the sward of the battlefield, and the ma.s.sive heads of the sycamores under which the war had raged.

There was not a breath of wind, but the pa.s.sage of so much air coming from the eastwards during the last week or so had left the atmosphere as clear as it is in periods of rain. The immense sycamores stood out against the sky, with the broad green curve of their tops drawn along the blue. Except a shimmer of uncertain yellow at the distant sh.o.r.e they could not see the reflection of the quarry which was really there, for the line of vision from where they stood came nearly level with the surface of the water, so that they did not look into it but along it.

Beneath their feet they saw to the bottom of the New Sea, and slender shapes of fish hovering over interstices of stones, now here, now gone.

There was nothing between them and the fish, any more than while looking at a tree. The mere surface was a film transparent, and beneath there seemed nothing. Across on Serendib the boughs dipped to the boughs that came up under to meet them. A moorhen swam, and her imago followed beneath, unbroken, so gently did she part the water that no ripple confused it. Farther the woods of the jungle far away rose up, a mountain wall of still boughs, mingled by distance into one vast thicket.

Southwards, looking seawards, instead of the long path of gold which wavelets strew before him, the sun beamed in the water, throwing a stream of light on their faces, not to be looked at any more than the fire which Archimedes cast from his mirrors melting the ships. All the light of summer fell on the water, from the glowing sky, from the clear air, from the sun. The island floated in light, they stood in light, light was in the shadow of the trees, and under the thick brambles; light was deep down in the water, light surrounded them as a mist might; they could see far up into the illumined sky as down into the water.

The leaves with light under them as well as above became films of transparent green, the delicate branches were delineated with finest camel's hair point, all the gra.s.s blades heaped together were apart, and their edges apparent in the thick confusion; every atom of sand upon the sh.o.r.e was sought out by the beams, and given an individual existence amid the inconceivable mult.i.tude which the sibyl alone counted. Nothing was lost, not a grain of sand, not the least needle of fir. The light touched all things, and gave them to be.

The tip of the shimmering poplar had no more of it than the moss in the covert of the bulging roots. The swallows flew in light, the fish swam in light, the trees stood in light. Upon the sh.o.r.e they breathed light, and were silent till a white b.u.t.terfly came fluttering over, and another white b.u.t.terfly came under it in the water, when looking at it the particular released them from the power of the general.

"Magic," said Bevis. "It's magic."

"Enchantment," said Mark; "who is it does it--the old magician?"

"I think the book says its Circe," said Bevis; "in the Ulysses book, I mean. It's deep enough to dive here."

In a minute he was ready, and darted into the water like an arrow, and was sent up again as an arrow glances to the surface. Throwing himself on his side he shot along. "Serendib!" he shouted, as Mark appeared after his dive under.

"Too far," said Mark.

"Come on."

Mark came on. The water did not seem to resist them that morning, it parted and let them through. With long scoops of their arms that were uppermost, swimming on the side, they slipped on still between the strokes, the impetus carrying them till the stroke came again. Between the strokes they glided buoyantly, lifted by the water as swallows glide on the plane of the air. From the hand thrust out in front beyond the head to the feet presently striking back--all the s.p.a.ce between the hands and feet they seemed to grasp. All this portion of the water was in their power, and its elasticity as their strokes compressed it threw them forward.

At each long sweep Bevis felt a stronger hold, his head shot farther through above the surface like the stem of the Pinta when the freshening breeze drove her. He did not see where he was going, his vision was lost in the ecstasy of motion; all his mind was concentrated in the full use of his limbs. The delicious delirium of strength--unconsciousness of reason, unlimited consciousness of force--the joy of life itself filled him.

Presently turning on his chest for the breast-stroke he struck his knee, and immediately stood up:

"Mark!"

Fortunately there were no stones, or his knee would have been grazed; the bottom was sand. Hearing him call Mark turned on his chest and stood up too. They waded some way, and then found another deep place, swam across that more carefully, and again walked on a shallow which continued to the sh.o.r.e of Serendib, where they stood by the willow boughs.

"Pan!"

Volume Two, Chapter XVII.

NEW FORMOSA--PLANNING THE RAFT.

Pan had sat on the strand watching them till they appeared about to land on the other side, then at the sound of his name he swam to them. Now you might see how superior he was, for the two human animals stood there afraid to enter the island lest a rough bough should abrade their skins, a thorn lacerate, or a thistle p.r.i.c.k their feet, but Pan no sooner reached the land than he rushed in. His s.h.a.ggy natural coat protected him.

In a minute out came a moorhen, then another, and a third, scuttling over the surface with their legs hanging down. Two minutes more and Pan drove a coot out, then a young duck rose and flew some distance, then a dab-chick rushed out and dived instantaneously, then still more moorhens, and coots.

"Why, there are hundreds!" said Mark. "What a place for our shooting!"

"First-rate," said Bevis. "It's full of moorhens and all sorts."

So it was. The island of Serendib was but a foot or so above the level of the water, and completely grown over with willow osiers (their blue gum), the s.p.a.ces between the stoles being choked with sedges and reed-gra.s.s, vast wild parsnip stalks or "gix," and rushes, in which ma.s.s of vegetation the water-fowl delighted. They had been undisturbed for a very long time, and they looked on Serendib as theirs; they would not move till Pan was in the midst of them.

"We must bring the matchlock," said Mark. "But we can't swim with it.

Could we do it on the catamarans?"

"They're awkward if you've got anything to carry," said Bevis, remembering his dip. "I know--we'll make a raft."

"Then we can go to all the islands," said Mark, "that will be ever so much better; why we can shoot all round them everywhere."

"And go up the river," said Bevis, "and go on the continent, the mainland, you know, and see if it's China, or South America--"

"Or Africa or Australia, and shoot elephants--"

"And rabbits and hares and peewits, and pick up the pearls on Pearl Island, and see what there is at the other end of the world up there,"

pointing southwards.

"We've never been to the end yet," said Mark. "Let's go back and make the raft directly."

"The catamaran planks will do capital," said Bevis, "and some beams, and I'll see how Ulysses made his, and make ours like it--he had a sail somehow."