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Hollowdell Grange: Holiday Hours in a Country Home, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 24. Beware Of The Snake |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. BEWARE OF THE SNAKE "Now, boys," said Philip, "tumble up--tumble up--tumble up, it's such a beautiful morning. Come, get up, Harry," he continued, giving his brother a rough shake. "Aw--yaw--aw--aw--aw--aw," said Harry, gaping fearfully. "Get up-p-p-p-p-p," shouted Philip again, giving him another shake. "Oh, don't, Philip," said Harry, "I'm so slee-aw-aw-aw-ah-aw-aw-py." "What an old stupid!" said Philip again. "If you don't get up, I'll cold sponge you." Harry did not wait for the cold sponge, but got up at once, and then the young dogs seemed to enter into a compact to disturb the rest of poor Fred, which they did by torturing him most ingeniously. Fred was lying fast asleep, and, the night having been warm, he had kicked all the clothes off, so Harry and Philip collected the hair-brushes in the two bedrooms, which, old and new, amounted to five; after which, Harry slipped down into the hall, and brought up the two clothes-brushes, and these they carefully arranged upon the bed, all on one side of the sleeper. They next screwed up the corner of a handkerchief, and began to tickle him on the side farthest from the brushes. The first application of the tickler produced an impatient rub; the second, an irritable scratch; but the third made the sleeper turn right over on to the sharp brushes, and begin to curl and twist about with pain. "Oh, dear! what's--ah--ah--er--oh, dear--don't. What's in the bed?" said Fred, muttering and groaning and twisting amongst the brushes, but still keeping his eyes obstinately closed. His tormentors roared with laughter; and it was this mirth which thoroughly aroused Fred to the comprehension of his position, which he no sooner realised than he sat up in bed, but in so doing only increased his pain--penetrating hair-brushes, although meant expressly for going through the hair, having, for all that, the power to pierce the skin, as Fred found, and he soon made a sort of rabbit leap off the bed on to the floor, and confronted his tormentors, who directly took to ignoble flight; but they did not get off scot-free, for Fred managed to send a missile in the shape of one of the brushes flying after them, and it caught Harry a pretty good thump in the back with the hardest part. "I say," said Philip, when they were nearly dressed, "we were to have gone to the mill last night to bob for eels; let's go to-night, or Dusty Bob will think we are not coming." "Oh, he wouldn't expect us when he saw what a fire there was. He would know that we should not go directly afterwards. But we might go to-night, though. Let's ask Mamma to have tea early, so that we can start directly after." "Well, but we have not had breakfast yet," said Fred. "Well, I know that," said Harry; "but it's always best to be in good time about everything, and then you don't get all behind. I say, what shall we do this morning? I should like to go down to the seashore. Let's ask Papa to take us." "Why, what's the use," said Philip, "when you know how busy he is about the fire? I shouldn't like to ask him. But he said he would take us again before Fred goes back, so let's wait and see." Breakfast finished, the boys went out in the garden to amuse themselves, and plenty there always seemed to be in that garden to amuse any one of reasonable desires. There was fruit in abundance to begin with--no bad thing for a commencement either, as Harry appeared to think, for he began feasting first upon the gooseberries, and then turned his attention to the cherries on the big tree in the corner by the shrubbery--the tree which bore the great white Bigareau cherries; and it was quite time they were picked, for some were split right down the side from over-ripeness, while the sparrows had been attacking others, and had committed sad havoc amongst them--the little pert rascals having picked out all the finest and ripest for their operations, and then, after taking a few bites out of the richest and sweetest part, they commenced upon another. As for Harry, who was not at all a particular youth, he used to make a point of choosing the sparrow-picked cherries-- saying that they were the ripest and sweetest. Harry was up in the fork of the tree, reaching the fruit and throwing it down to his companions, when the attention of all three boys was taken up by the movements of a little bird in a tree close by; it was one of the little titmice, and the tiny fellow seemed to be in a wonderful state of excitement, darting from branch to branch, and emitting his sharp cry in a most querulous manner. "I say," said Philip, "look at that tom-tit; it has a nest somewhere close by, I know." This remark set six eyes searching about to discover the place of the little tom-tit's home. Fred began looking up in the tree and amidst the laurel bushes--parting the boughs, and peering amidst the great green leaves. "What are you looking for?" said Harry at last. "The tom-tit's nest," said Fred. "Why, it's no use to look there; they always build in holes in the trees or wall. Last year there was one in that tall vase at the corner of the low wall; and we used to see the bird go down the neck ever so many times a day. It was such a snug place, nobody could touch it. I wonder where that little chap has been building. It must be close by, or he would not be so fidgety about our being here." They all hunted about well, but no nest was to be found; so Harry came down from his elevated position, and proceeded to share the capful of cherries that he had picked in addition to those he had thrown down. "Well, now, if that isn't droll," said Philip, laughing; "no wonder we could not find the nest: why, Harry was standing up with his foot over it. Why, there it is, in the trunk of the cherry-tree. I just saw the tom-tit fly in." And there, sure enough, was the nest right at the bottom of a deep hole in the tree trunk, the entrance to which was by a hole so small that it seemed impossible for any bird to pass through it; for to look at the size of the tom-tit, his bulk appeared to be double the circumference of the hole; but his downy yielding little feathers gave him an easy passage through; and, as the boys went up to the tree, out he darted with a sharp cry, and flew away. "There's a hen-bird in the hole, sitting," said Harry, "and he has been to feed her, I know. Let's try." Saying which, he took a piece of stick, and began to insert it gently into the hole. "Don't hurt it," said Philip. "Don't poke the stick in." "Oh! I shan't hurt anything," said Harry brusquely. "Do you think I don't know what I'm about? I'm only going to push it in a little way to see if there is a nest, and then I shall--" "Ciss-s-s-s-s-s-s-s," said something very sharply from the bottom of the hole, and back darted Harry, stick and all, as though he had been shot. "Why, it's a snake," said Philip. "How could a snake get there?" said Harry, looking rather discomposed. "There must have been an egg laid in the hole," said Fred; offering, as he thought, a very clever solution of the difficulty. "Well, but how did the egg get there?" said Harry. "Why, it was laid there, of course," said Fred. "Well, but," said Philip, "if an egg could be laid there, a snake could have got there; and I don't believe the English snakes could climb up the bark of a tree; and, besides, if there was one egg there would be more, for snakes' eggs are all joined together like French rolls at the baker's shop; and then there would have been a whole lot of snakes in the hole." "Perhaps there is a whole party of them there now," said Fred. "I wish we could split the tree open. I shan't eat any more cherries; they smell snaky." "Get out!" said Harry; "I don't believe it was a snake at all. I wish the hole was big enough to get my hand in; I'd soon see what it was." "But if it was a snake, it would bite," said Fred, "and poison you." "No, it wouldn't," said Harry; "it's only adders that bite and poison; snakes are quite harmless; Papa says so, and he knows everything." "Does he?" said a voice behind the laurels, and Mr Inglis came up to them, smiling. "And so, Master Hal, you consider that Papa knows everything, do you? Ah, my boy, when you grow older, I trust that you will prove studious enough to find out how very ignorant your father is, and to look upon all he knows in the same way that he does himself, and that is, as a mere nothing in comparison with what there is to learn around us. But," he continued, cheerfully, "what is it I am said to know so much about?" "Why, about snakes, Papa. They won't bite, will they?" "Oh, yes," said Mr Inglis, "and pretty sharply, too, after their fashion. I do not suppose that it would pierce your skin; but if you could occupy the position of poor froggy some day, when a snake has got hold of him by the hind legs, I think you would find that he could bite. But what made you talk about snakes?" "Why, there's one in this tree, Papa," said Philip; "we put a stick into the hole, and it did hiss so. Now, you listen." Philip placed a piece of wood in the hole again, and in a moment there came forth the same sharp hiss, and directly Philip darted back in the same way as his brother had a short time before. "There, did you hear that?" said the boys. "Oh, yes; I heard the hiss, but it was not a snake; only the noise made by the female titmouse when sitting upon her nest. It is to scare intruders away, and you see how effectually it answers the purpose, for you boys were completely startled, and thought that it was a snake. And this is very often the case in nature, that helpless birds, animals, and insects are provided with means of offence or concealment, that in a great measure balance the helplessness of their nature. But I should like you lads to read these natural history facts for yourselves, and then search, during your walks and excursions, for the objects you have read of in your studies." _ |
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