White Fire. John Oxenham
beast! Bos ferocissime! Get out o' that, or I'll do for you. What's taken you to-day, you old villain?"
Then followed more forcible argument in the shape of stones, and, with grateful twitches of her clasped hands, the small girl saw her discomfited enemy go crashing down the hillside among the whins and ferns and rolling rocks.
The beast was evidently possessed of an unusually perverse disposition that day. It looked up once at the girl behind the wall, and made some spiteful remark, which elicited a dissuasive "Would you?" and another shower of stones from its keeper. Then it went galloping away on the sides of its feet along the steep hillside. The boy, with an exclamation, sprang down after it, and the girl caught sight of him for the first time—a sturdy little figure, with light hair and unlimited energy. He chased the beast with boyish objurgations, which broke out with new vigour when the chase led through a piece of black swamp, with the natural results to the pursuer.
He came back presently, hot and muddy, whistling like a blackbird.
She was just about to get up and go on, when she heard him jumping down into the little glen below, and she craned over to see what he was about.
He scrambled down to a small round natural basin in the rock, threw off his jacket and waistcoat, unbuttoned his flannel shirt, and proceeded to a mighty wash.
He seemed to revel in it so exceedingly that the girl sat and watched him with enjoyment. He had no towel, so did not waste any time in drying himself, but allowed the sun and wind to do their duties. Then he came clambering up the slope again. There was a large flat stone in front of the embryo cabin. He came and sat down on it, and remained there so long and so quiet that at last she moved slightly and peeped round to see what he was doing.
And what he was doing was so very astonishing that she gave an involuntary gasp of amazement.
He was lying flat on his stomach, with a tattered book open in front of him. On the flat slab was a diagram drawn with the chunk of chalk he held in his hand, and he was studying it so intently that he did not hear her till her shadow fell across his work.
"Hello! Where did you come from?" and he jumped up and stood staring at her. He was not aware of it, but he was dimly perceptive of the fact that she was very nice-looking. He remembered later—when her face evaded him—that she was very prettily dressed.
"From behind there," she said. "That nasty bull frightened me."
"He's a stupid beast." And then, suddenly bethinking himself, "Have you been there ever since?"
The girl nodded. She liked the look of him. His jacket and trousers were rough and well worn, but his face was wonderfully bright and clean. She did not know when she had seen a boy's face she liked so much. There was such a glow in it, and his blue eyes were so fearless and looked at her so very straight. She did not know very many boys, and did not care much for any of those she did know. They were always either teasing or silly, and always abominably selfish. Somehow this boy did not seem any of those things.
"You'd no right to watch a gentleman washing himself."
"You're not a gentleman, and I couldn't help myself. At least——"
"You're not a lady, and you could have gone away quite well. It's a good thing for you I didn't have a bath in the big pool there. You'd have watched just the same, I suppose, Miss Inquisitive!"
"Oh!" she said sharply. "You rude thing! How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That! Miss—— what you called me just now."
At which he laughed out loud, a great merry laugh that did one good to listen to, and showed a set of sound white teeth and a quick apprehension.
"Is that what they call you at home?" he asked, with a mischievous twinkle.
"My aunties call me that. Father says 'Want-to-know gets on.'"
"He's right," said the boy, with a blaze in the blue eyes. "I like your father better than your aunties. Where were you going when the beast stopped you?"
"Right along there," she nodded.
"All the way to the Sheils? It's a gey long way for a bit lassie like you."
"I'm not a bit lassie. I'm thirteen."
"Really! You're young for your age!"
She was somewhat doubtful about this remark, but it felt like a compliment, so she let it pass.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Kenneth Blair. What's yours?"
"Jean Arnot. How old are you?"
"I'll be fifteen next July." This was August.
"What's that you were drawing? Is it a windmill?" staring intently down at it.
"A windmill!"—with unutterable scorn. "And you say you're thirteen! That's Euclid—Prop. 47. It's a thumper too."
"I haven't begun Euclid yet," she said meekly, and regarded him with a face full enough of questioning to amply justify her nickname. "Will you please tell me something?"
He began to laugh, and she knew that "Miss Inquisitive" was on the tip of his tongue. He only nodded, however.
"Do all the herd-boys about here do Euclid?"
"I d'n' know. There's nothing to stop them if they want to."
"Why do you speak so differently from most other boys? You speak almost as well as I do."
A smile flickered in his face for a second, but died out, and he said quietly—
"That's easily told, anyway. My father was schoolmaster at Inverclaver. He taught me."
"And does he teach you still? Where is he schoolmaster now?"
He looked at her a moment in silence, and then said—
"I don't know. He's dead."
"Oh! But he can't be a schoolmaster anywhere if he's dead. I'm so sorry. And of course he can't teach you either."
"I don't know," said the boy slowly. "I think sometimes——"
But she was off on another scent.
"What are you going to be when you grow up?"
"Ah!"—with animation. "I'm going to be a big man."
"You can't make yourself that. You're not very big now."
"I've not done growing yet, and I'm very strong, and I've never been ill in my life. Besides——"
"I've just had measles and whooping-cough. That's why I'm here."
He nodded, as much as to say, "Yes, that's just the kind of thing girls would have"; and went on, "And then I'm going to be an explorer."
"O-o-o-h!" with snapping eyes. "Where?"
"I don't know where. Anywhere where nobody's ever been before."
She devoured him with hungry appreciation. His face was so very clean, so radiantly bright, and the sparks in his blue eyes kindled answering sparks in her own. For she too possessed a lively imagination, and a spirit many times the size of her body.
"But will you be able to? Are you very rich?"
"Rich? No, I'm not rich, but I'm not that poor either—not just now. I bought this last week," with a touch of superior pride, as he hauled out a Latin grammar, sixth-hand, but still boasting covers. "When I've finished it I'll feel poor till I get the next. But that's not yet."
"Wouldn't you like to be very rich?"
"I d'n' know. I never tried it."
"My father is very rich."
"Is he? And what are you going to do when you grow up?"
"Oh, I'm going to be a lady."