Dick o the Fens | Page 2

its stump of a tail, and then beginning to growl and snarl, twitching its ears, as another dog appeared on the scene--a long, lank, rough-haired, steely-grey fellow, with a pointed nose, which, with his lean flanks, gave him the aspect of an animal of a vain disposition, who had tried to look like a greyhound, and failed.
This dog trotted out of the wheelwright's workshop, with his coat full of shavings and sawdust, and lay down a short distance from the fire, while the little black-and-white fellow rushed at him, leaped up, and laid hold of his ear.
"Ha, ha! look at old Grip!" cried Tom Tallington, kicking his heels together as the big dog gave his ears a shake, and lay down with his head between his paws, blinking at the fire, while his little assailant uttered a snarl, which seemed to mean "Oh you coward!" and trotted away to meet a tall rugged-looking man, who came slouching up, with long strides, his head bent, his shoulders up, a long heavy gun over his shoulder, and a bundle of wild-fowl in his left hand, the birds banging against his leather legging as he walked, and covering it with feathers.
He was a curious, furtive-looking man, with quick, small eyes, a smooth brown face, and crisp, grizzly hair, surmounted by a roughly-made cap of fox-skin.
He came straight up to the fire on the windy side, nodded and scowled at the wheelwright as the latter gave him a friendly smile, and then turned slowly to the two boys, when his visage relaxed a little, and there was the dawning of a smile for each.
"What have you got, Dave?" cried Dick, laying hold of the bunch of birds, and turning them over, so as to examine their heads and feet; and, without waiting for an answer, he went on--"Three curlews, two pie-wipes, and a--and a--I say, Tom, what's this?"
Tom Tallington looked eagerly at the straight-billed, long-legged, black-and-white bird, but shook his head, while Chip, the dog, who had seated himself with his nose close to the bunch, uttered one short sharp bark.
"I say, Dave, what's this bird?" said Dick.
The man did not turn his head, but stood staring at the fire, and said, in a husky voice, what sounded like "Scatcher!"
"Oh!" said Dick; and there was a pause, during which the fire roared, and the smoke flew over the wheelwright's long, low house at the edge of the fen. "I say," cried Dick, "you don't set oyster-catchers in the 'coy."
"Yow don't know what you're talking about," growled the man addressed.
"Why, of course he didn't," cried Tom Tallington, a stoutly-built lad of sixteen or seventeen, very much like his companion Dick, only a little fairer and plumper in the face. "They ain't swimmers."
"No, of course, not," said Dick. "Kill 'em all at one shot, Dave?"
The man made no answer, but his little dog uttered another short bark as if in assent.
"Wish I'd been there," said Dick, and the dog barked once more, after which the new-comer seemed to go off like a piece of machinery, for he made a sound like the word "kitch," threw the bunch of birds to the wheelwright, who caught them, and dropped them in through the open window of the workshop on to his bench, while Dave jerked his gun off his shoulder, and let the butt fall between his feet.
Just then the wheelwright roared out, with one hand to his cheek:
"Sair--rah! Ale. Here you, Jake, go and fetch it."
The short thickset lad of nineteen, who now came from behind the house with a fagot of wood, threw it down, and went in, to come back in a few moments with a large brown jug, at the top of which was some froth, which the wind blew off as the vessel was handed to the wheelwright.
"She's about ready now," said the latter. "You may as well lend a hand, Dave."
As he spoke, he held out the jug to the donor of the birds, who only nodded, and said, as if he had gone off again, "Drink;" and propping the gun up against the crippled cart, he took off his rough jacket and hung it over the muzzle.
In kindly obedience to the uttered command, the big wheelwright raised the brown vessel, and took a long draught, while Dave, after hanging up his jacket, stood and looked on, deeply interested apparently, watching the action of the drinker's throat as the ale went down.
Jacob, the wheelwright's 'prentice, looked at the ale-jug with one eye and went on placing a piece of wood here and another there to keep up the blaze, while Dick went and leaned up against the cart by the gun.
Then the jug was passed, after a deep sigh, to Dave, who also took a long draught, which made Jacob sigh as