“How dare you?” said Bevis, snatching at the string, but Mark pushed him back. “How dare you? you’re a prisoner.” “I’m not,” said Mark very angrily. “Yes, you are; you were asleep.” “I don’t care.” “I will tie you up.” “You shan’t.” “If you sleep at your post, you have to be tied to a tree, you know you have, and be left there to starve.” “I won’t.” “You must, or till the tigers have you. Do you hear? stand still!” Bevis tried to secure him, Mark pushed him in turn. “You’re a wretch.” “I hate you!” “I’ll kill you!” “I’ll shoot you!” Mark darted aside and took his spear; Bevis had his bow in an instant and began to draw it. Mark, knowing that Bevis would shoot his hardest, ran for the second oak. Bevis in his haste pulled hard, but let the arrow slip before he could take aim. It glanced upon a bough and shot up nearly straight into the air, gleaming as it went--a streak of light--in the sunshine. Mark stopped by the oak, and before Bevis could fetch another arrow poised his spear and threw it. The spear flew direct at the enemy, but in his haste Mark forgot to throw high enough, he hurled it point-blank, and the hardened point struck the earth and chipped up crumbling pieces of dry ground; then it slid like a serpent some way through the thin grasses. Utterly heedless of the spear, which in his rage he never saw, Bevis picked up an arrow from the place where he had slept, fitted the notch to the string and looked for Mark, who had hidden behind the other oak. Guessing that he was there, Bevis ran towards it, when Mark shouted to him,-- “Stop! I say, it’s not fair; I have nothing, and you’ll be a coward.” Bevis paused, and saw the spear lying on the ground. “Come and take your spear,” he said directly; “I won’t shoot.” He put his bow on the ground. Mark ran out, and had his spear in a moment. Bevis stooped to lift his bow, but suddenly in his turn cried,-- “Stop! Don’t throw; I want to say something.” Mark, who had poised his spear, put it down again on the grass. “We ought not to fight now,” said Bevis. “You know we are exploring, people never fight then, else the savages kill those who are left; they wait till they get home, and then fight.” “So they do,” said Mark; “but I shall not be left tied to a tree.” “Very well, not this time. Now we must shake hands.” They shook hands, and Pan, seeing that there was now no danger of a chance knock from a flying stick, came forth from the bush where he had taken shelter. “But you want everything your own way,” said Mark sulkily. “Of course I do,” said Bevis, glaring at him, “I’m captain.” “But you do when you are not captain.” “You are a big story.” “I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m not.” “People are not to contradict me,” said Bevis, looking very defiant indeed, and standing bolt upright. “I say I am captain.”