"Yes, that will do," cried Tom. "When are you going, John?"

The man addressed shook his head.

"Rabbuds don't want no killing off. Plenty on 'em drownded."

"Why," cried d.i.c.k, "it was only the other day you said that none were hurt by the flood."

"Did I, Mester d.i.c.k? Ah, yow mustn't tek no notice o' what I say."

"But we shall take notice of what you say," cried Tom. "I don't believe he has any ferrets left."

"Ay, bud I hev. Theer I'll tek you, lads. Why don't thou tek 'em wi'

you, Dave, man? Let un see the netting."

Dave smiled in a curious way, and then his eyes twinkled as he looked from one to the other.

"Well, you wait a week, lads, and then I'll fetch you."

"To see the netting?"

"Ay. In another week there'll be a deal more dry land, and the ruffs and reeves'll be ower in flocks, I dessay. If they aren't, we'll try for something else."

"Hooray!" cried d.i.c.k; and that evening there was nothing talked of but the projected trip.

CHAPTER SIX.

THE DEPARTING FLOOD.

The water sank slowly and steadily, leaving dry patches here and there all over the fen; but the lake-like parts far exceeded the dry land, and two or three fields still contained so much water that the squire set men to work to cut a drain to carry it away.

"Kill two birds with one stone, d.i.c.k," he said. "It will be useful by and by."

At the time d.i.c.k did not understand what his father meant; but it was soon evident when all hands were hard at work cutting down through the peat to make the d.y.k.e. For, instead of digging in the ordinary way, the men carefully cut down through what was not earth, but thick well-compressed black peat, each piece, about ten inches square and three or four thick, to be carefully laid up like so much open brickwork to drain and dry.

Good store for the next winter's fuel, for it was peat of fine quality stored up by nature ages before, and not the soft brown mossy stuff found in many places, stuff that burns rapidly away and gives out hardly any heat. This peat about the Toft was coal's young relative, and burned slowly into a beautiful creamy ash, giving out a glow of warmth that was wanted there when the wind blew from the northern sea.

The two lads watched the process with interest--not that it was anything new, for they had seen it done a hundred times; but they had nothing else to do that morning, having tired themselves of gazing at the flocks of birds which pa.s.sed over to the feeding grounds laid bare by the sinking water. It had been interesting to watch them, but Dave had not kept his word about the netting; the decoy had not been worked; and gunning was reserved for those of elder growth. So that morning, though the great lakes and ca.n.a.ls among the reeds were dotted with birds, the lads were patiently watching the cutting of the little drain.

Six men were busy, and making steady progress, for the peat cut easily, the sharp-edged tools going through it like knives, while the leader of the gang busied himself from time to time by thrusting down a sharp-pointed iron rod, which always came in contact with sand and gravel a few feet down.

"No roots, my lad?" said the squire, coming up.

"No, mester," said the labourer. "I don't think--well, now, only think of that!"

He was thrusting down the iron rod as he spoke, and the point stuck into something that was not sand or gravel, while upon its being thrust down again with more force it stuck fast, and required a heavy jerk to drag it out.

"That seems to be a good one," said the squire, as the lads watched the process with interest.

"Shall we hev it out, mester?"

"Have it out! Oh, yes!" said the squire; and a couple of hours were spent widening the drain at that part, so as to give the men room to work round what was the root of an old tree, just as it had been growing in the far-distant ages, before the peat began to rise over it to nine or ten feet in thickness.

It was a long job, and after the great stump had been laid bare, axes had to be used to divide some of the outlying roots before it was finally dragged out by the whole force that could be collected by the hole, and finally lay upon the side.

"Just like the others, d.i.c.k. There must have been a tremendous fire here at one time."

"And burned the whole forest down?"

"Burned the whole of the trees down to the stumps, my lad, and then the peat gradually formed over the roots, and they've lain there till we come and dig them out for firewood."

"And they haven't rotted, father, although they have been under the peat and water all this time."

"No, my boy; the peat is a preservative. Nothing seems to decay under the peat. Why, you ought to have known that by now."

"I suppose I ought," said d.i.c.k rather dolefully, for he was beginning to wake up to the fact of what an enormous deal there was in the world that he did not know.

As he spoke, he picked up some of the red chips of the pine-root which had been sent flying by the strokes of the axe, to find that they were full of resin, smelling strongly of turpentine.

"Yes, it's full of it," said the squire; "that's one reason why the wood has kept without rotting. Here you two boys may as well do something for your bread and b.u.t.ter."

d.i.c.k said something to himself answering to nineteenth-century Bother!

and awaited his father's orders.

"You can drag that root up to the yard. Get a rope round it and haul.

Humph, no! it will be too heavy for you alone. Leave it."

"Yes, father," said d.i.c.k with a sigh of relief, for it was more pleasant to stand watching the men cutting the peat and the birds flying over, or to idle about the place, than to be dragging along a great sodden ma.s.s of pine-root.

"Stop!" cried the squire. "I don't want the men to leave their work.

Go and fetch the a.s.s, and harness him to it. You three donkeys can drag it up between you."

The boys laughed.

"I'm going up the river bank. Get it done before I get back."

"Yes, father," cried d.i.c.k. "Come along, Tom."

The task was now undertaken with alacrity, for there was somehow a suggestion to both of the lads of something in the nature of fun, in connection with getting the a.s.s to drag that great root.

The companions ran along by the boggy field toward the farm buildings on the Toft, to seek out the old grey donkey, who was at that moment contemplatively munching some hay in a corner of the big yard, in whose stone walls, were traces of carving and pillar with groin and arch.

Now some people once started the idea that a donkey is a very stupid animal; and, like many more such theories, that one has been handed down to posterity, and believed in as a natural history fact, while donkey or a.s.s has become a term of reproach for those not blessed with too much brain.

Winthorpe's donkey was by no means a stupid beast, and being thoroughly imbued with the idea that it was a slave's duty to do as little work as he possibly could for those who held him in bonds, he made a point of getting out of the way whenever he scented work upon the wind.

He was a grey old gentleman, whose years were looked upon as tremendous; and as he stood in the corner of the yard munching hay, he now and then scratched his head against an elaborately carved stone bracket in the wall which took the form of a grotesque face.