Bevis flung down the bow without a word, heaving a deep sigh of rage.
“Flint and steel,” said Mark presently.
“Hum!”
“There’s a flint in the gateway,” continued Mark. “I saw it just now; and you can knock it against the end of your knife—”
“You stupe; there’s no tinder.”
“No more there is.”
“I hate it—it’s horrid,” said Bevis. “What’s the use of trying to do things when everything can’t be done?”
He sat on his heels as he knelt, and looked round scowling. There was the water—no fire to be obtained from thence; there was the broad field—no fire there; there was the sun overhead.
“Go home directly, and get a burning-glass—unscrew the telescope.”
“Is it proper?” said Mark, not much liking the journey.