Bevis Part 64

Drawing back behind the blue gum, Bevis prepared the matchlock, blow the match so that the fire might be ready on it, opened the pan, and pushed the priming up to the touch-hole, from which it had been shaken as he walked, and then advanced the staff or rest to the edge of the bush. He put the heavy barrel on it, and knelt down. The muzzle of the long matchlock protruded through the leafy boughs.

"Ball cartridge," whispered Mark, holding Pan by the collar. "Steady."

"All right."

Bevis aimed up the barrel, the strands of wire rather interfered with his aim, and the glance pa.s.sed from one of these to the other, rather than along the level of the barrel. The last strand hid the end of the barrel altogether. It wanted a sight. He looked along, and got the gun straight for the fish, aiming at the broadest part of the side; then he remembered that a fish is really lower in the water than it appears, and depressed the muzzle till it pointed beneath the under-line of the jack.

Double-barrel guns with their hammers which fall in the fiftieth of a second, driven by a strong spring directly the finger touches the trigger, translate the will into instant action. The gunner s.n.a.t.c.hes the second when his gun is absolutely straight, and the shot flies to its destination before the barrel can deviate the thirty-second part of an inch. When Bevis's finger first pressed the trigger of the matchlock he had the barrel of his gun accurately pointed. But while he pulled the match down to the pan an appreciable moment of time intervened; and his mind too--so swift is its operation--left the fish, his mark and object, and became expectant of the explosion. The match touched the priming. Puff!

So infinitely rapid is the mind, so far does it outstrip gunpowder, that the flash from the pan and its tiny smoke seemed to Bevis to occur quite a little time before the great discharge, and in that little time his mind left the barrel, and came to look at the tiny puff of smoke.

Bang! the ball rushed forth, but not now in the course it would have taken had a hair-trigger and a spring instantly translated his original will into action. In these momentary divisions of time which had elapsed since he settled his aim, the long barrel, resting on the staff and moving easily on its pivot, had imperceptibly drooped a trifle at the breech and risen as much at the muzzle.

The ball flew high, hit the water six inches beyond the fish, and fired at so low an angle ricochetted, and went skipping along the surface, cutting out pieces of weed till the friction dragged it under, and it sank. The fish swished his tail like a scull at the stern of a boat or the screw of a steamer, but swift as was his spring forward, he would not have escaped had not the ball gone high. He left an undulation on the surface as he dived unhurt.

Bevis stamped his foot to think he had missed again.

"It was the water," said Mark. "The bullet went duck and drake; I saw it."

He was too just to recall the fact of his having hit the teak-tree, the tree was so much larger than the fish. As he did not recall his success at the tree, Bevis's irritation went no farther.

"We must have a top-sight," he said.

"We won't use bullets again till we have a sight."

"No, we won't. But I'm sure I had the gun straight."

"So we had the rifle straight, but it did not hit."

"No, no more did it. There's something peculiar in bullets--we will find out. I wanted that jack for supper."

As they had not brought the powder-horn with them, they walked back to the hut.

"It's not the gun's fault, I'm sure," said Mark. "It shoots beautiful; it's my turn next."

"Yes; you shall shoot. O! no, it's not the gun. They can shoot sparrows in India with a single ball," said Bevis; "and matchlocks kill tigers better than rifles. Matchlocks are splendid things."

"Splendid things," said Mark, stroking the stock of the gun, which he now carried on his shoulder, as if it had been a breathing pet that could appreciate his affection.

"This is a curious groove," said Bevis, looking at the score in the bark of the teak where Mark's bullet had struck it. "Look, it goes a little round; the bullet stuck to the tree and went a little way round, instead of just coming straight, so."

"So it did," said Mark. "It curved round the tree."

"My arrow would have glanced off just the other way," said Bevis, "if it had hit here."

"The ball goes one way and the arrow the other."

"One sticks to the tree as long as it can and the other shoots aside directly."

Bullets have been known in like manner to strike a man's head in the front part and score a track half round it, and even then not do much injury.

"We ought to keep the gun loaded," said Mark, as they reached the hut.

"Yes; but it ought to be slung up, and not put anywhere where it might be knocked over."

"Let's make some slings for it."

After loading the gun this time with a charge of shot, and ramming it home with the bra.s.s ramrod--Mark enjoyed using the ramrod too much to hurry over it--they set to work and drove two stout nails into the uprights on the opposite side to the bed. To one of these nails a loop of cord was fastened; to the other a similar piece was tied at one end, the other had a lesser loop, so as to take on or off the nail. When off it hung down, when on it made a loop like the other. The barrel of the gun was put through the first loop, and the stock then held up while the other piece of cord was. .h.i.tched to its nail, when the long gun hung suspended.

"It looks like a hunter's hut now," said Bevis, contemplating the matchlock. "I'll put my bow in the corner." He leaned his bow in the corner, and put a sheaf of arrows by it.

"My spear will go here," said Mark.

"No," said Bevis. "Put the spear by the bee head."

"Ready for use in the night?"

"Yes; put a k.n.o.bstick too. That's it. Now look."

"Doesn't it look nice?"

"Just doesn't it!"

"Real hunting."

"Real as real."

"If Val, and Cecil, and Ted could see!"

"And Charlie."

"They would go wild."

"The store-room _is_ a muddle."

"Shall we put it straight?"

"And get things s.h.i.+p-shape?"

"Yes."

They began to a.s.sort the heaped-up ma.s.s of things in the cave, putting tools on one side, provisions on the other, and odd things in the centre. After awhile Mark looked up at his watch.

"Why, it's past five! Tea time at home."

"I don't know," said Bevis. "I expect the time's different--it's longitude."

"We are hours later, then?"