Bevis Part 99

"Ah!" This was more proper. "She looks brown."

"Copper coloured."

"Are you a savage?"

"If you says so," said Loo penitently. "Are you very sorry?"

"You're sure you're a savage?"

"Will she do?"

"You're our slave."

"Ar-right," [all-right], said Loo her brown eyes beginning to sparkle through her tears. "I'll be what you wants."

"Mind you're a slave."

"So I be."

"You'll be thrashed."

"Don't care. Let I bide here."

"I suppose we must have her."

"You're a great nuisance."

"Ar-right."

"Slave! Carry that." Mark gave her the axe. "And that." Bevis gave her the bow. Loo took them proudly.

"You're to keep behind--Pan's to go before you."

"Dogs first, slaves next."

"Make her fetch the water."

"Chop the wood."

"Turn the spit."

"Capital; we wanted a slave!"

"Just the thing."

"Hurrah!"

"But it's not so nice as a tiger."

"O! No!"

"Nothing like."

They marched out of the reed-gra.s.s, Pan and the slave behind.

"But how did you get here?" said Bevis, stopping suddenly.

"I come, I told you."

"Can you swim?"

"No."

"There's no boat."

"Did you have a catamaran?"

"What be that?"

"Why don't you tell us how you got here?"

"I come--a-foot."

"Waded? You couldn't."

"I walked drough't,"--i.e. through it.

They would not believe her at first, but she adhered to her story, and offered to wade back to the mainland to prove that it was possible. She pointed out to them the way she had come by the shoals and sedge-grown banks; the course she had taken curved like half a horse-shoe. First it went straight a little way, then the route or ford led to the south and gradually turned back to the west, reaching the mainland within sixty or seventy yards of the place where they always disembarked from the raft.

It took some time for Loo to explain how she had done it, and how she came to know of it, but it was like this.

Once now and then in dry seasons the waters receded very much, and they were further lowered by the drawing of hatches that the cattle might get water to drink low down the valley, miles away. As the waters of the New Sea receded the shallower upper, or southern end, became partly dry.

Then a broad low bank of sand appeared stretching out in the shape of half a horse-shoe the extremity of which being much higher was never submerged, but formed the island of New Formosa. At such times any one could walk from the mainland out to New Formosa dryshod for weeks together.

This was how the island became stocked with squirrels and kangaroos; and it was the existence of the rabbits in the burries at the knoll that had originally led to Loo's knowledge of the place. Her father went there once when the water was low to ferret them, and she was sent with his luncheon to and fro. That was some time since, but she had never forgotten, and often playing about the sh.o.r.e, had no difficulty in finding the shoal. The route or ford was, moreover, marked to any one who knew of its existence by the tops of sand-banks, and sedge-grown islets, which were in fact nothing but high parts of the same long, curved bank.

There was not more than a foot deep of water anywhere the whole distance, and often not six inches. This was in August, in winter there would be much more. Tucking up her dress she had waded through easily, feeling the bottom with a thick stick to guide her steps. The worst place was close to the island, by the reed-gra.s.s, where she sunk a little in the ooze, but it was only for a few yards.

At the hut the weapons were laid aside, and the slave put out the dinner for them. Bevis and Mark sat, one each side of the table, on their stools of solid blocks, Pan sat beside Bevis on his haunches expectant; the slave knelt at the table.

She was bare-headed. Her black hair having escaped, fell to her waist, and her neck was tawny from the harvest sunshine. The torn brown frock loosely clung about her. Her white teeth gleamed; her naked feet were sandy like Pan's paws. Her brown eyes watched their every movement; she was intent on them. They were full of their plans of the island; she was intent on them.

She ate ravenously, more eagerly than the spaniel. Seeing this, Bevis kept cutting the preserved tongue for her, and asked if Samson was so very hungry. Loo said they were all hungry, but Samson was most hungry.

He cried almost all day and all night, and woke himself up crying in the morning. Very often she left him, and went a long way down the hedge because she did not like to hear him.

"But," objected Bevis, "my governor pays your father money, and I'm sure my mamma sends you things."

So she did, but Loo said they never got any of them; she twisted up her mouth very peculiarly to intimate that they were intercepted by the ale-barrel. Bevis became much agitated, he said he would tell the governor, he would tell dear mamma, Samson should not cry any more. Loo should take home one of the tins of preserved tongue, and the potatoes, and all the game there was--all except the hare.

Now Bevis had always been in contact almost with these folk, but yet he had never seen; you and I live in the midst of things, but never look beneath the surface. His face became quite white; he was thoroughly upset. It was his first glance at the hard roadside of life. He said he would do all sorts of things; Loo listened pleased but dimly doubtful, she could not have explained herself, but she, nevertheless, knew that it was beyond Bevis's power to alter these circ.u.mstances. Not that she hinted at a doubt; it was happiness enough to kneel there and listen.