Tallington's ram was splendid when he could be caught, which was not often; but upon the rare occasions when he did fall captive to the boys'

prowess, he had rather a trying time, considering how big he was, and how thin his legs. But his back was beautiful. The wool formed a magnificent cushion, and a couple of locks could be grasped for security by the rider, while the attendant, who waited his turn drove with a branch of furze or heather.

A pole across a stone wall was another splendid aid to horsemanship, see-saw fashion, or turned into a steed for one, by wedging the thick end into a hole and riding the thin end, spring fashion; while, as the years rolled by and the boys were back from school, an occasional mount was had upon Saxon, Tallington's old grey horse, falsely said to be nearly two hundred. But if he was not, he looked it.

Of course it was pleasant to be seated on high upon his back, but the ride was not exhilarating, for whether he was bound for the ploughed fields, or to harrow, or to fetch home a load, it seemed to make no difference to Saxon, who always seemed to be examining the ground before him with his big dull eyes before he lifted a foot to set it down in advance. He was a cautious beast, and this may have arisen from his having been often bogged. These rides were, then, not much sought after, and when Solomon was placed at d.i.c.k's disposal he was voted by far the best, and the donkey was not long in finding that his young master had learned how to ride; as, with his long head he debated how he might best rid himself of such incubi as d.i.c.k and his friend.

All this is explanatory of the reason why Tom Tallington did not slip off at Solomon's first bout, but kept on when he came down by hooking himself, as it were, with his leg and gripping a piece of the donkey's skin with his hand.

By these means he regained his perpendicular, but only for a moment, Solomon having at command a perfect battery of ruses for ridding himself of a rider. No sooner was Tom upright than the donkey gave the whole of his skin and muscles a wrench sidewise, which felt as if the seat was being dragged away.

The consequence was that Tom nearly went off to the right. He was too good an a.s.sman, though, and by a dexterous gymnastic feat he dragged himself once more upright, when Solemn-un's back suddenly grew round and began to treat Tom as if he were a ball. Now he was jerked up; now he was jerked forward; now he was jerked back--bob--bob--bob--bob--till he nearly went off over the tail. There was another bout of kicking, and away went Tom again forward till he was a long way on toward the donkey's neck, but only to shuffle himself back to the normal seat upon the animal, after which, in token of defeat, Solomon went on out of sight at a rapid canter, leaving d.i.c.k laughing till he had to wipe his eyes.

"He will be so sore and so cross!" cried d.i.c.k, as he walked swiftly on; when, involuntarily turning his head, he saw that the constable was following him.

"The idiot!" cried the lad angrily. "Well, he shall have a run for it."

Setting his teeth and doubling his fists, he bent his head, and started off running as hard as he could go, with the result that as he was going somewhat after the fashion of a hare making use of his eyes to watch his pursuer, and not looking ahead, he suddenly went round a curve, right into Hickathrift's chest, and was caught and held by the big wheelwright.

"Why, Mester d.i.c.k, what now?"

"Don't stop me, Hicky. I was running because that stupid constable fellow is after me."

"Hey, and what should make you run away from constable, lad?" said Hickathrift severely. "You've done nowt to be 'shamed on?"

"No, of course not!" cried d.i.c.k, shaking himself free. "Did you meet Tom Tallington?"

"Ay, iver so far-off, trying to stop old Solomon, and he wouldn't stay."

d.i.c.k nodded and glanced at him; and then, as he ran on again, the lad ground his teeth.

"It's a shame!" he cried. "Why, old Hicky thinks now that there's something wrong. I'll serve that old stupid out for all this; see if I don't!"

He ran on, getting very hot, and beginning now to abuse Tom Tallington for going so far before he tied up; and at last saw the donkey browsing by the side of a tree, while Tom was well on along the track to the drain, walking as fast as he could go.

Solomon pointed one ear at d.i.c.k, as he came up, but took no further notice, being engaged in picking nutriment out of some sc.r.a.ps of as unlikely looking vegetation as could be found in the fen. Perhaps it was the thistly food he ate which had an effect upon his temper and made him the awkward creature he had grown.

"My turn now," cried d.i.c.k, unfastening the rein, which was tightly tied with string to the stout stem of an alder.

Solomon had c.o.c.ked one ear at his master as he came up. The animal now laid both ears down and began to back so rapidly along the road, keeping the reins at their full stretch, that it was impossible to mount him, and it was evident that a long battle was beginning, in which the a.s.s might win.

d.i.c.k, however, found an ally in the shape of Grip, Hickathrift's lurcher, who had been evidently off on some expedition upon his own account, and was now hastening to overtake his master.

Solomon's attention was taken up by d.i.c.k, and he did not perceive Grip coming up at full speed till, with a rush, the dog made a bound at him, and sent him towards d.i.c.k, who was dragging at the reins.

Grip seemed to enjoy the donkey's astonishment as it backed from him and then wheeled sharply round to deliver a goodly kick; but before this could be planted satisfactorily, d.i.c.k had mounted and began tugging at the reins and drumming with his heels in a way there was no resisting, so Solomon went off at a gallop and Grip followed his master.

At the end of a mile Tom had been pa.s.sed, and d.i.c.k drew up by the first scrubby willow he reached, to tie up the donkey and leave it for his friend; but a glance back showed him the constable returning toward the Toft, so the boy stood leaning over Solomon's back, waiting.

"I don't want to ride," he said to himself. "Tom can have the donkey, and I'll walk."

"Why didn't you go on?" cried Tom, as he came up with a very red face.

"Don't want to be alone," replied d.i.c.k lazily, as he gazed away over the wide-stretching fen-land with the moist air quivering in the glorious sunshine. "I say, Tom, what a shame it seems!"

"What seems a shame?"

"Corn-fields and pastures and orchards are all very well, but the old fen does look so lovely now!"

"Yes, it does," said Tom; "and father's horribly sorry he joined in the draining scheme. He says it's going to cost heaps of money, and then be no good. But come along."

"Where?" said d.i.c.k.

"I don't know. Where we're going."

"We're not going anywhere, are we?"

"Well, you are a fellow! Come galloping off here into the fen, and then say you don't know where we're going!"

"I did it to get away from that Thorpeley. What shall we do?"

"Pst! Look there! What's that?"

"Snake!"

"No; it's an adder. Look!"

"'Tisn't," said d.i.c.k; "it's a snake. Adders aren't so long as that.

No, no; don't throw at it. Let's see what it's going to do."

The reptile was crossing the track from a tuft of alders, and seemed to be about three feet long and unusually thick, while, as it reached the dense heath and rushes, interspersed with grey coral moss on that side, it disappeared for a few moments, and they thought it had gone; but directly after it reappeared, gliding over a rounded tuft of bog-moss, and continued its way.

"Why, it's going to that pool!" cried d.i.c.k.

"To drink," said Tom. "No wonder. Oh, I am hot and thirsty! Here, I could knock him over with a stone easily."

"Let him alone," said d.i.c.k, who had become interested in the snake's movements. "How would you like to be knocked over with a stone?"

"I'm not a snake," said Tom, grinning.

"Look!" cried d.i.c.k, as the reptile reached the edge of one of the many deep fen pools, whose amber-coloured water was so clear that the vegetation at the bottom could be seen plainly, and, lit up by the sunshine, seemed to be of a deep-golden hue across which every now and then some armoured beetle or tiny fish darted.

To the surprise of both, instead of the snake beginning to drink, it went right into the water, and, swimming easily and well, somewhat after the fashion of an eel, sent the water rippling and gleaming toward the sides.

"Look!" cried Tom. "Oh, what a bait for a pike!" For just then one of these fishes about a foot long rose slowly from where it had lain concealed at the side, and so clear was the water that they could make out its every movement.

"Pooh! a pike could not swallow a snake," said d.i.c.k, as the reptile swam on, and the pike slowly followed as if in doubt.

"Oh, yes, he could!" said Tom, "a bit at a time."