i66 THE LIFE OF RICHARD JEFFERIES 



unknown island of New Formosa, make a gun and pro- 

 vision their island hut, and there maroon themselves. 

 There is nothing incredible or on a fantastic scale in the 

 whole book, and if once the author's enjoyment had 

 flagged, the narrative must have gone down in the deeps of 

 dulness. No talk could be more real than the talk of these 

 boys ; the hurry, confidence, exuberance are to the life, 

 with no graces, no heroism, added. The description of 

 their games, their quarrels, their plots, their fishing, 

 swimming, sailing, skating, shooting, is equally real, the 

 observation so hearty and genuine that there is no dull 

 place. They want to cut down a willow, and have 

 wearied of the axe : 



' " I know," said Mark, " we must make a fire, and 

 burn the tree. We are savages, you know, and that is 

 how they do it." 



' " How silly you are !" said Bevis. " We are not 

 savages, and I shall not play at that. We have just 

 discovered this river, and we are going down it on our 

 raft ; and if we do not reach some place to-night, and 

 build a fort, very likely the savages will shoot us. I 

 believe I heard one shouting just now — there was some- 

 thing rustled, I am sure, in the forest." '* 



Bevis and Mark have gone to bed. 



' Suddenly Bevis started up on his arm. 



* " Let's have a war," he said. 



' " That would be first-rate," said Mark ; " and have 

 a great battle !" 



' " An awful battle," said Bevis ; " the biggest and 

 most awful ever known." 



' " Like Waterloo ?" 



' " Pooh !" 



' " Agincourt ?" 



' " Pooh !" 



' " Mai— Mai," said Mark, trying to think of Malplaquet. 



' " Oh, more than anything !" said Bevis. " Some- 

 body will have to write a history about it." 



* Bevis : Tht Story of a Boy, 



