A loud and general burst of laughter greeted this practical joke, which did not add to the young man's good humour, and he, being of a fiery disposition, and so the very fittest subject for a practical joker, rose up in a rage and hurled the bone back at his aggressor, who, being prepared for it, ducked his head, and it passed harmlessly over him.
"There, Beorney, don't get angry. If thou wantest to fight, fight the old man there, and then, after he has thrashed thee, thou canst come and fight us. We shan't be afraid of thee then, but thou'rt too strong a man now, and aimest too straight."
"What is all this about, boys?" said the older man, who had been comfortably stretched on his back with Ceolwulf and Wulfstan on each side of him, placidly enjoying the pleasant reminiscences of that estimable boar. "What's all this about? Why can't ye enjoy the blessings the gods give ye without wanting to make a disturbance?"
"Beornwulf here wants to fight that old red beard we caught in the bushes, who called him a Weala."
"Well, and Beornwulf called him a wooden head first, so I think they are quits."
"Let them fight, Athelhune. We've nothing to amuse us, and they might just as well have a round."
"Why, what's the good, boys? We want all our strength for to-night's work, and he might be here any moment. Ye see the sun is sinking fast."
"Then they can leave off when he comes."
Athelhune, who really did not much care one way or the other, made no answer, and this being taken as a consent, the young men, now that they had roused Beornwulf, set to work to get old Ceolwulf excited, who had gone tranquilly off to sleep.
They proceeded therefore to pitch a chop bone neatly on to his nose, and when he started up full of bewilderment at the unexpected shock, another bone, adroitly thrown, though not very hard, struck him on the mouth. Boiling with rage, old Biggun got up and glared round for his assailant.