CHAPTER VII.
Humphrey was now after something else. He had made several traps, andbrought in rabbits and hares almost every day. He had also made somebird-traps, and had caught two goldfinches for Alice and Edith, whichthey put in the cages he had made for them. But, as we said, Humphreywas about something else; he was out early in the morning, and in theevening, when the moon was up, he came home late, long after they hadall gone to bed; but they never knew why, nor would he tell them. Aheavy fall of snow took place, and Humphrey was more out than ever. Atlast, about a week after the snow had laid on the ground, one morninghe came in with a hare and rabbit in his hand, and said,
"Edward, I have caught something larger than a hare or a rabbit, andyou must come and help me, and we must take our guns. Jacob, I supposeyour rheumatism is too bad to let you come too?"
"No; I think I can manage. It's the damp that hurts me so much. Thisfrosty air will do me good, perhaps. I have been much better since thesnow fell. Now, then, let us see what you have caught."
"You will have to walk two miles," said Humphrey, as they went out.
"I can manage it, Humphrey, so lead the way."
Humphrey went on till they came close to a clump of large trees, andthen brought them to a pitfall which he had dug, about six feet wideand eight feet long, and nine feet deep.
"There's my large trap," said Humphrey, "and see what I have caught init."
They looked down into the pit and perceived a young bull in it. Smoker,who was with him, began to bark furiously at it.
"Now, what are we to do? I don't think it is hurt. Can we get it out?"said Humphrey.
"No, not very well. If it was a calf, we might; but it is too heavy,and if we were to get it out alive, we must kill it after ward, so wehad better shoot it at once."
"So I think," replied Humphrey.
"But how did you catch him?" said Edward.
"I read of it in the same book I did about the traps for hares,"replied Humphrey. "I dug out the pit and covered it with brambles, andthen put snow at the top. This is the thicket that the herd comes tochiefly in winter time; it is large and dry, and the large treesshelter it; so that is why I chose this spot. I took a large bundle ofhay, put some on the snow about the pit, and then strewed some moreabout in small handfuls, so that the cattle must find it, and pick itup, which I knew they would be glad to do, now that the snow is on theground. And now, you see, I have succeeded."
"Well, Humphrey, you beat us, I will say," said Edward. "Shall I shoothim?"
"Yes, now that he is looking up."
Edward shot his ball through the forehead of the animal, which felldead: but they were then obliged to go home for the pony and cart, andropes to get the animal out of the pit, and a hard job they had of ittoo; but the pony helped them, and they did get it out at last.
"I will do it easier next time," said Humphrey. "I will make a windlassas soon as I can, and we will soon hoist out another, like they turn abucket of water up from a well."
"It's nice young meat," said Jacob, who was skinning the bull, "notabove eighteen months old, I should think. Had it been a full-grownone, like that we shot, it must have remained where it was, for wenever could have got it out."
"Yes, Jacob, we should, for I should have gone down and cut it up inthe pit, so that we would have handed it out by bits, if we could nothave managed him whole."
They loaded the cart with the skin and quarters of the animal, and thendrove home.
"This will go far to pay for the gun, Humphrey," said Jacob, "if itdon't pay for more."
"I am glad of it," said Humphrey, "but I hope it will not be the lastwhich I take."
"That reminds me, Humphrey, of one thing; I think you must come backwith the cart and carry away all the entrails of the beast, and removeall the blood which is on the snow, for I've observed that cattle arevery scared with the smell and sight of blood. I found that out by onceor twice seeing them come to where I have cut the throat of a stag, andas soon as they have put their noses down to where the blood was on theground, they have put their tails up and galloped away, bellowing at aterrible rate. Indeed, I've heard say, that if a murder has beencommitted in a wood, and you want to find the body, that a herd ofcattle drove into it will serve you better than even a bloodhound."
"Thank you for telling me that, Jacob, for I should never have supposedit, and I'll tell you what I'll also do; I'll load the cart with fernlitter, and put it at the bottom of the pit, so that if I could get aheifer or calf worth taking, it may not be hurt by the fall."
"It must have taken you a long while to dig that pit, Humphrey."
"Yes, it did, and as I got deeper the work was harder, and then I hadto carry away all the earth and scatter it about. I was more than amonth about it from the time that I began till it was finished, and Ihad a ladder to go up and down by at last, and carried the baskets ofearth up, for it was too deep to throw it out."
"Nothing like patience and perseverance, Humphrey. You've more than Ihave."
"I'm sure he has more than I have, or shall ever have, I'm afraid,"replied Edward.
During this winter, which passed rapidly way very few circumstances ofany consequence occurred. Old Jacob was more or less confined to thecottage by the rheumatism, and Edward hunted either by himself oroccasionally with Humphrey. Humphrey was fortunate enough to take abull and a cow calf in his pitfall, both of them about a year orfifteen months old, and by a rude invention of his, by way of windlass,contrived, with the assistance of Edward, to hoist them uninjured outof the pit. They were put into the yard, and after having been starvedtill they were tamed, they followed the example of the heifer and calf,and became quite tame. These were an important addition to their stock,as may well be imagined. The only mishap under which they labored was,old Jacob's confinement to the cottage, which, as the winter advanced,prevented him from going to Lymington; they could not, therefore, sellany venison; and Humphrey, by way of experiment, smoked some venisonhams, which he hung up with the others. There was another point onwhich they felt anxiety, which was, that Jacob could not cross theforest to get the puppies which had been promised them, and the timewas passed, for it was now January, when he was to have called forthem. Edward and Humphrey pressed the old man very hard to let one ofthem go, but the only answer they could obtain was "that he'd be bettersoon." At last, finding that he got worse instead of better, heconsented that Edward should go. He gave directions how to proceed, theway he was to take, and a description of the keeper's lodge; cautionedhim to call himself by the name of Armitage, and describe himself ashis grandson. Edward promised to obey Jacob's directions, and the nextmorning he set off, mounted upon White Billy, with a little money inhis pocket in case he should want it.
"I wish I was going with you," said Humphrey, as he walked by the sideof the pony.
"I wish you were, Humphrey: for my part, I feel as if I were a slaveset at liberty. I do justice to old Jacob's kindness and good will, andacknowledge how much we are indebted to him; but still to be housed uphere in the forest, never seeing or speaking to any one, shut out fromthe world, does not suit Edward Beverley. Our father was a soldier, anda right good one, and if I were old enough I think even now I shouldescape and join the royal party, broken as it may be and by allaccounts is, at this moment. Deer stalking is all very well, but I flyat higher game."
"I feel the same as you do," replied Humphrey: "but recollect, Edward,that the old man's very infirm, and what would become of our sisters ifwe were to leave them?"
"I know that well, Humphrey--I have no idea of leaving them, you may besure; but I wish they were with our relations in safety, and then weshould be free to act."
"Yes, we should, Edward; but recollect that we are not yet men, andboys of fifteen and thirteen can not do much, although they may wish todo much."
"It's true that I am only fifteen," replied Edward, "but I am strongenough, and so are you. I think if I had a fair cut at a man's head Iwould make him stagger under it, were he as big as a buffa
lo. As youngas I have been to the wars, that I know well; and I recollect my fatherpromising me that I should go with him as soon as I was fifteen."
"What puzzles me," replied Humphrey, "is, the fear that old Jacob hasof our being seen at Lymington."
"Why, what fear is there?"
"I can not tell more than you; in my opinion, the fear is only in hisown imagination. They surely would not hurt us (if we walked aboutwithout arms like other people) because our father had fought for theking? That they have beheaded some people it is true, but then theywere plotting in the king's favor, or in other ways opposed toParliament. This I have gathered from Jacob: but I can not see what wehave to fear if we remain quiet. But now comes the question, Edward,for Jacob has, I believe, said more to me on one subject than he has toyou. Suppose you were to leave the forest, what would be the first stepwhich you would take?"
"I should, of course, state who I was, and take possession of myfather's property at Arnwood, which is mine by descent."
"Exactly; so Jacob thinks, and he says that would be your ruin, for theproperty is sequestered, as they call it, or forfeited to theParliament, in consequence of your father having fought against it onthe king's side. It no longer belongs to you, and you would not beallowed to take it: on the contrary, you would, in all probability, beimprisoned, and who knows what might then take place? You see there isdanger."
"Did Jacob say this to you?"
"Yes, he did: he told me he dare not speak to you on the subject, youwere so fiery; and if you heard that the property was confiscated, youwould certainly do some rash act, and that any thing of the kind wouldbe a pretense for laying hold of you; and then he said that he did notthink that he would live long, for he was weaker every day; and that heonly hoped his life would be spared another year or two, that he mightkeep you quiet till better times came. He said that if they supposedthat we were all burned in the house when it was fired, it would givethem a fair opportunity of calling you an impostor and treating youaccordingly, and that there were so many anxious to have a gift of theproperty, that you would have thousands of people compassing yourdeath. He said that your making known yourself and claiming yourproperty would be the very conduct that your enemies would wish you tofollow, and would be attended with most fatal consequences; for hesaid, to prove that you were Edward Beverley, you must declare that Iand your sisters were in the forest with him, and this disclosure wouldput the whole family in the power of their bitterest enemies; and whatwould become of your sisters, it would be impossible to say, but mostlikely they would be put under the charge of some Puritan family whowould have a pleasure in ill-treating and humiliating the daughters ofsuch a man as Colonel Beverley."
"And why did he not tell me all this?"
"He was afraid to say any thing to you; he thought that you would be somad at the idea of this injustice that you would do something rash: andhe said, I pray every night that my otherwise useless life may bespared; for, were I to die, I know that Edward would quit the forest."
"Never, while my sisters are under my protection," replied Edward;"were they safe, I would be out of it to-morrow."
"I think, Edward, that there is great truth in what Jacob says; youcould do no good (for they would not restore your property) by makingyour seclusion known at present, and you might do a great deal ofharm--'bide your time' is good advice in such troubled times. Itherefore think that I should be very wary if I were you; but I stillthink that there is no fear of either you or I going out of the forest,in our present dresses and under the name of Armitage. No one wouldrecognize us; you are grown tall and so am I, and we are so tanned andsunburned with air and exercise, that we do look more like Children ofthe Forest than the sons of Colonel Beverley."
"Humphrey, you speak very sensibly, and I agree with you. I am notquite so fiery as the old man thinks; and if my bosom burns withindignation, at all events I have sufficient power to conceal myfeelings when it is necessary; I can oppose art to art, if it becomesrequisite, and which, from what you have said, I believe now is reallyso. One thing is certain, that while King Charles is a prisoner, as henow is, and his party dispersed and gone abroad, I can do nothing, andto make myself known would only be to injure myself and all of us. Keepquiet, therefore, I certainly shall, and also remain as I am now, undera false name; but still I must and will mix up with other people andknow what is going on. I am willing to live in this forest and protectmy sisters as long as it is necessary so to do; but although I willreside here, I will not be confined to the forest altogether."
"That's exactly what I think too, Edward--what I wish myself; but letus not be too hasty even in this. And now, I will wish you a pleasantride; and, Edward, if you can, procure of the keepers some small shotfor me; I much wish to have some."
"I will not forget; good-by, brother."
Humphrey returned home to attend his farmyard, while Edward continuedhis journey through the forest. Some estimate of the character of thetwo boys may be formed from the above conversation. Edward wascourageous and impetuous hasty in his resolves, but still open toconviction. Brought up as the heir to the property, he felt, more thanHumphrey could be expected to do, the mortification of being left apauper, after such high prospects in his early days: his vindictivefeelings against the opposite party were therefore more keen, and hisspirit mounted more from the conviction under which he labored. Hisdisposition was naturally warlike, and this disposition had beenfostered by his father when he was a child--still a kinder heart or amore generous lad never existed.
Humphrey was of a much more subdued and philosophical temperament, notperhaps so well calculated to lead as to advise; there was greatprudence in him united with courage, but his was a passive couragerather than an active one--a courage which, if assailed, would defenditself valiantly, but would be wary and reflective before it wouldattack. Humphrey had not that spirit of chivalry possessed by Edward.He was a younger son, and had to earn, in a way, his own fortune, andhe felt that his inclinations were more for peace than strife.Moreover, Humphrey had talents which Edward had not--a natural talentfor mechanics, and an inquisitive research into science, as far as hislimited education would permit him. He was more fitted for an engineeror an agriculturist than for a soldier, although there is no doubt thathe would have made a very brave soldier, if such was to have become hisavocation.
For kindness and generosity of nature he was equal to his brother, andthis was the reason why an angry word never passed between them; forthe question between them was not which should have his way, but whichshould give up most to the wishes of the other. We hardly need say,that there never were two brothers who were more attached, and who somutually respected each other.