A Tale of the Summer Holidays Part 3

"How about playing with girls now, Master Hal?" she cried. "I suppose you will own that you are fairly out this time?"

But he did nothing of the sort.

"Pooh!" he said contemptuously; "that was a pure fluke. Any one could have caught that; and so it does not count either. I am not going out."

"Oh, I say," Jim said in a remonstrating tone, "is that the way you play at your school?"

"Of course, it is not," said Hal. "Don't be a donkey, Jim. How often am I to tell you that this is not a regular game, but just a sort of knock up, you know?"

"In which you get all the knocking up," Helen said indignantly.

Hal laughed.

"Now, don't get into a temper, Helen. I don't see what girls want to play cricket for. It is not a girls' game. All they are good for is just to field, and that sort of thing."

At that Helen fairly choked with anger, Drusie opened her eyes very wide, and Jim lay down on the gra.s.s and laughed quietly to himself.

Considering that both his sisters had been toiling on his behalf for the last half-hour, it certainly was very cool of Hal to make such a speech.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jim and Helen]

"I knew how it would be," Helen exclaimed pa.s.sionately, as soon as she could find her voice; "and I warned you two others, only you would not listen. I knew perfectly well that Hal was not going to let us go in, and I call it downright unfair, and I for one am not going to field for him any more.--And you say," she added, turning indignantly to Hal, "that girls can't play cricket. Well, they can. Father says himself that Drusie plays awfully well for a girl, and I suppose he ought to know."

"For a girl," Hal said slightingly; "yes, that is just it."

"Please don't quarrel," Drusie said quickly. "You may stay in if you like, Hal, and I will bowl for you.--Jump up, Jim, and go and be wicket-keeper."

With a scornful sniff for what she considered to be great weakness on Drusie's part, Helen returned to her place, where, in spite of her declaration that she did not intend to play any more, she continued to field.

For a girl Drusie did bowl remarkably well, and Hal would have been the first to own it, had he not perceived a sort of triumphant "told you so" expression on Helen's face, which annoyed him greatly, and made him withhold the praise which Drusie would have been so pleased to hear.

She exerted herself to do her very best, and before many minutes had pa.s.sed she clean bowled him. There could be no doubt about it this time, for the twig on which the cap had been hung was broken by the force of the ball, and the cap fell to the ground.

"Hurrah!" Helen shrieked, dancing about and clapping her hands. "How about girls not being able to bowl now, Master Hal? I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_I suppose you will own that you really are out this time?_"]

Hal looked not only mortified but exceedingly angry into the bargain.

"You are a precious set, I must say," he said, looking contemptuously at the excited capers which Helen was cutting. "One would think that you had done something awfully wonderful by the way in which you are going on. That is just like a girl. Let her do something which she thinks rather clever, and there is no end to her airs."

This was really rather severe on Drusie, who had neither said nor done anything to justify Hal's scornful remarks. But he was too annoyed to be fair, and as a punishment for what he chose to call Drusie's bragging, he tucked his bat under his arm, and told them that he was not going to play with them any more.

"You can brag by yourselves," he said, "of your wonderful cricket. I am not going to put up with you any longer. I am sick of you all. I must say it is awfully hard on a fellow to come home and find that not one of his brothers or sisters is worth playing with. A more conceited, disagreeable lot I never met with."

A dismayed silence followed this abrupt departure. It was broken by a short, quick sigh from Drusie.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" she said, looking after Hal as he marched off with as much dignity as he could. "I do wish that I had not bowled him. If I had guessed that it would make him so cross, I would have sent him easy, baby-b.a.l.l.s."

"And got told for your pains that you could not bowl," Helen said with much scorn. "I do wonder how you can be so silly, Drusie. I think it serves Hal quite right. But I told you how it would be. I knew we should not get our innings. You can't say that I did not warn you."

"No, we certainly can't," Jim said with a chuckle. "You have had a sort of 'I told you so' expression on your face ever since we began to play. And you know, Helen, if you ask me, I think it is all your fault that Hal went off in such a huff. He simply couldn't stand your being so awfully delighted when Drusie bowled him."

If Hal's sudden display of temper had struck dismay into the hearts of his brothers and sisters, it had not left him particularly happy either. Though he would not own it, even to himself, he had an uncomfortable feeling that it was he who was conceited and disagreeable. He was, however, full of excuses for himself, and when his conscience p.r.i.c.ked him he answered impatiently that n.o.body could be expected to put up with the fearful airs that they had all been giving themselves.

Then, looking round to see that he was not being followed, he made his way to a hiding-place he had discovered behind the summer-house, and proceeded to employ himself there after a fas.h.i.+on of which nurse would most strongly have disapproved. He remained until the dinner-bell rang, when he crept out with a pale face and with every bit of his appet.i.te gone.

He dined alone in the schoolroom, and nurse shook her head as his plates were carried back to the nursery, for he had scarcely touched anything that she had sent in to him.

"I hope, Master Hal, you are not going to be ill," she said, as soon as dinner was over. "What has come to you? You have not eaten anything."

"I am not hungry," Hal muttered, flus.h.i.+ng under her scrutinizing gaze.

"I have got rather a headache--that's all."

"Well, don't run about much in the sun," nurse said, only half satisfied. "You are looking very pale. Put on your straw hat too; that little cap is of no use at all. And don't go eating any green apples or gooseberries. I expect you have been in the kitchen-garden this morning, and that is what is the matter with you."

But it was neither green apples nor gooseberries which had given Hal the very uncomfortable sensations from which he was suffering. That, however, he did not explain to nurse; and feeling very wretched and unhappy he wandered out into the garden, and flung himself under a big, shady elm-tree. The others were nowhere in sight, and he felt injured that they should, even after his conduct of the morning, have left him to himself.

"A nice, sociable set they are," he said moodily. "Oh dear, how I do wish that I had somebody sensible to play with!"

But though he chose to grumble, he knew perfectly well that he was not just then in the humour to appreciate any society, however sensible, and pillowing his head upon his arm he dropped off to sleep.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hal asleep]

Meanwhile, Drusie had planned a busy afternoon for herself and the others, for they intended to go to the fort and make ammunition for Tuesday.

Few children had nicer grounds to play in than the Danvers children.

The garden was very large, and besides the lawn and the winding walks among the shrubberies, which afforded such capital hiding-places when they played hide-and-seek, there was the large kitchen-garden as well.

Beyond the kitchen-garden lay pleasant, sunny fields, at the foot of which flowed a small stream that farther down joined the river in which Jumbo had been so nearly drowned. On the other side of the stream lay a long slip of land which Mr. Danvers always spoke of as a waste piece of ground, and over which he sometimes threatened to send the plough.

But partly because the ground was really too poor to be of much good, and partly because the children begged him to leave it alone, it had never yet been disturbed, and the Wilderness, as they had named it, remained theirs to all intents and purposes.

That the Wilderness was a brambly place could not be denied. It had originally been a grove of nut trees, and though some of these still flourished and bore nuts that had not their equal for size and flavour in all the country-side, they had for the most part been strangled by blackberry bushes and briers, and smothered by ma.s.ses of wild clematis.

The fort stood in a corner of the Wilderness. Within a few yards of it on one side was the stream; on the other and at the back it was surrounded by densely-growing hawthorn bushes. But the front was open and exposed to attack, for a cleared s.p.a.ce in which only a few scattered nut trees grew lay before it.

This fort had once been a summer-house, but it had long since been disused, and would, no doubt, have fallen into decay, had not the children hit upon the idea of making it the scene of their pitched battles, and had so propped it up and strengthened it that it was impossible to take except by surprise.

The door had been nailed up and so had the window, and entrance could only be effected by scrambling up on the flat roof, and dropping through a hole which had been made there for that purpose. Even that hole could be closed by a hatch in time of need, and the besieged could lie snugly inside and listen to the heavy firing without, secure in the knowledge that as long as he chose to remain there none of the besiegers could touch him. But then his flag would be in danger; and by their rules of warfare, if the flag were captured or shot down, the fort was held to have capitulated.

For more than a week before Hal's return from school the others had been busy getting the ammunition ready; they had dug up a quant.i.ty of sand from the bed of the stream, which, when mixed with a little clay and moistened with water, represented cannon-b.a.l.l.s. As, however, they had no cannon, these b.a.l.l.s had to be thrown by hand; and as they scattered when they struck, they appeared more formidable than they really were. But still one had been known to bring down the flag, and so win the day for the besiegers.

The fort was mainly defended with a catapult loaded with mud pellets, shot being strictly forbidden as too dangerous. To protect them the besiegers wore a kind of helmet, which, though it gave them a somewhat ludicrous appearance, saved them from many a nasty blow. These helmets were neither more nor less than fine wire-gauze dish-covers, which they tied across their faces and fastened at the back of their heads. But the holder of the fort had to rely chiefly upon capture to win a victory, and when his enemies approached too closely, a bold rush often resulted in one of them being made prisoner. But, of course, even a brief absence from the fort left the flag undefended, and there was always a chance that, while one of the attackers was being pursued, some of the others might steal up and succeed in going off with the flag.

So it will be easily understood that courage and skill, combined with a spirit that was bold and yet not too rash, were required to hold the fort. And as none of them possessed these qualities to the same extent as Hal, it followed that none of them held the fort as well as he did, or made such a good fight of it.

Superintended by Drusie, they all worked very busily at the ammunition, and as they kneaded cannon-b.a.l.l.s and pellets they laid out a plan of attack for the following Tuesday. Jim was of the opinion that they never took enough advantage of the shelter afforded by the thick and almost impenetrable bushes that grew on one side of the fort, and he proposed that while two of them made an attack in the open air, he or Drusie should lie concealed, and if Hal could be drawn out in pursuit they might get a chance of slipping in during his absence.

"He may have brought back some new dodges," said Drusie hopefully. "I wonder if he has ever played a game of this sort at school? Do you think he has, Jim?"