“Ain’t it funny,” said Philip, “that you never can tell where those things are?”
“I think they must run very fast through the grass, so as to keep seeming to be in different places,” said Harry.
“Perhaps there’s more than one,” said Fred; “and they keep calling to one another.”
“Ah! perhaps there may be; but I think there’s only one. Did you ever read the ‘Boys’ Country Book,’ Fred? It’s the jolliest book that was ever written, ever so much better than ‘Sandford and Merton.’ There’s a bit in it about some boys playing truant from school, and they go hunting after a corncrake, as they call it there, and get into no end of trouble, and jump over a hedge into a garden, and break the glass, and get taken before a magistrate. Oh! I did like that book so. Phil and I always have had a hunt after the corncrakes since we read that; but we don’t get taken before the magistrates for it.”
The lads now returned towards their play-field to let the kite down, for it was growing towards tea-time; but they walked along, very slowly, for they were hot and tired with their exertions. They were walking along by the hedge-side, when something took Harry’s attention, and made him leap over the great bed of nettles, which rose from the ditch, to the further bank.
“Look here, boys,” he shouted; “here’s a jolly nest, full of eggs; only look.”
The others were at his side in a moment, and, sure enough, Harry had found a nest in the bottom of the hedge worth finding, for it was the nest of one of the hens, which had been laying astray till there were fifteen eggs collected together, from which the old truant no doubt meant to have a fine brood of chickens; and perhaps would have done so but for Harry’s discovery.
The eggs were put in Fred’s handkerchief, for Harry’s and Philip’s were left a hundred yards high in the air, when they went in chase of the meadow-crake; and then they went across the field to where the kite stick was left. They were at first too intent upon the eggs,—which they counted three or four times over,—to think of the kite; but when they did, and came to look, the stick was gone; the string was gone; The Kite Was Gone! There was no mistake about it; and though, as a matter of course, if the stick went, the string and kite must go too, yet the boys seemed to make the discovery in the above order, and thus have I recorded the facts.
“It’s blown away,” said Fred; “let’s go and find it;” and off he started in the teeth of the wind.
“What’s the good of that?” said Philip, shouting after his cousin; “it will be this way.”