Jack at Sea: All Work and No Play Made Him a Dull Boy

by George Manville Fenn

In spite of all.

They were too close to the goats to venture upon much whispering, and the decision was soon arrived at that they were to divide, and each make the best of his way up the ridge till there was an opportunity for a close easy shot; then without waiting that shot was to be sent whizzing from the bow, the probability being that as there was no report, the goats would not be much alarmed, and another chance might be afforded.

“Think we must have one this time, Mr Jack,” whispered Ned, and they started from behind the great block which now sheltered them, each taking his own side.

From that moment Jack had no eyes for his companion, his attention was centred upon the great father of the herd, to the left of which the two half-grown kids were browsing upon the tender young shoots of the bush-like growth.

It was nervous work, for every now and then the old goat raised his head on high to take a long careful look round, and when he did, Jack remained motionless where he had crawled. Directly he saw the tips of the horns lowered he began to creep again, taking advantage of every tree-trunk, stone, or bush, and always getting nearer, though still far too distant to risk a shot. His hands trembled and were wet with perspiration, and again and again he felt that he must be seen, and expected to hear the beating of the animals’ hoofs as they dashed off, but the great curved horns, sweeping back like those of an ibex, were still visible, and he crawled slowly on, forgetting all about Ned and his progress.

At last, after many minutes devoted to the struggle upward, he reached a spot sufficiently elevated to give him a view of the volcano whose crater rose above the ridge, and forming; a background for the big goat, which stood out plainly about forty yards away even now, and offering itself for a shot, easy enough with a rifle, but very doubtful with a bow and arrow. The lad was in a capital position, but unfortunately the slope beyond offered no cover, and to have moved from it meant to be seen at once, while, more unfortunately still, the two kids, which should have shown themselves nearer, were now completely hidden by a clump of dense growth twenty yards from where he lay.

“If I could only have got there,” thought Jack, “how easy it would be.” But to have moved would have been to send the whole herd careering away, and all he could do was to wait and see if the kids would at last come from behind the shrubs.

“They may come nearer,” he thought, and he softly fitted an arrow to the bowstring, and waited for his opportunity, for he could do no more.

There he rested, bow and arrow held ready, in a very awkward position for shooting, but he dared not move, for at the slightest movement even of his companions, the goat raised his head, and several times gave an angry stamp with one of his fore-feet.

“I wonder where Ned is now,” thought the boy, and he hoped that he was having better fortune, and he glanced cautiously in the direction where he must be, but all was still; butterflies were flitting about, birds darted by, and the old goat, the only one of the herd now visible, still browsed or watched.