But next day the passion was stronger on him than ever. Quite early on
the glorious cloudless midsummer day he was down by the river-side,
sitting on a rock, with his shoes and stockings off, paddling his feet
in the clear tepid water, and watching the million fish in the
shallows--black fish and grayling--leaping and flashing in the sun.
There is no pleasure that I have ever experienced like a child's
midsummer holiday,--the time, I mean, when two or three of us used to
go away up the brook, and take our dinners with us, and come home at
night tired, dirty, happy, scratched beyond recognition, with a great
nosegay, three little trout and one shoe, the other having been used for
a boat till it had gone down with all hands out of soundings. How poor
our Derby days, our Greenwich dinners, our evening parties, where there
are plenty of nice girls, are, after that! Depend on it, a man never
experiences such pleasure or grief after fourteen as he does before:
unless in some cases in his first love-making, when the sensation is new
to him.
But, meanwhile, there sat our child, barelegged, watching the forbidden
ground beyond the river. A fresh breeze was moving the trees, and making
the whole a dazzling mass of shifting light and shadow. He sat so still
that a glorious violet and red kingfisher perched quite close, and,
dashing into the water, came forth with a fish, and fled like a ray of
light along the winding of the river. A colony of little shell parrots,
too, crowded on a bough, and twittered and ran to and fro quite busily,
as though they said to him, "We don't mind you, my dear; you are quite
one of us."
Never was the river so low. He stepped in; it scarcely reached his
ankle. Now surely he might get across. He stripped himself, and,
carrying his clothes, waded through, the water never reaching his
middle, all across the long, yellow gravelly shallow. And there he
stood, naked and free, on the forbidden ground.
He quickly dressed himself, and began examining his new kingdom, rich
beyond his utmost hopes. Such quantongs, such raspberries, surpassing
imagination; and when tired of them, such fern boughs, six or eight feet
long! He would penetrate this region, and see how far it extended.
What tales he would have for his father to-night! He would bring him
here, and show him all the wonders, and perhaps he would build a new hut
over here, and come and live in it? Perhaps the pretty young lady, with
the feathers in her hat, lived somewhere here, too?
There! There is one of those children he has seen before across the
river. Ah! ah! it is not a child at all, but a pretty grey beast, with
big ears. A kangaroo, my lad; he won't play with you, but skips away
slowly, and leaves you alone.
[Illustration: "_A Kangaroo! A Snake! An Eagle!_"]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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