“I’m so lazy,” said Mark. “I shall go to sleep.”
“No you won’t,” said Bevis. “I ought to go to sleep, and you ought to watch. Get your spear, and now take my bow.”
Mark took the bow sullenly.
“You ought to stand up, and walk up and down.”
“I can’t,” said Mark very short.
“Very well; then go farther away, where you can see more round you. There, sit down there.”
Mark sat down at the edge of the shadow of the oak. “Don’t you see you can look into the channel; if there are any savages they are sure to creep up that channel. Do you see?”
“Yes, I see,” said Mark.
“And mind nothing comes behind that woodbine,” pointing to a mass of woodbine which hung from some ash-poles, and stretched like a curtain across the view there. “That’s a very likely place for a tiger: and keep your eye sharp on those nut-tree bushes across the brook—most likely you’ll see the barrel of a matchlock pushed through there.”
“I ought to have a matchlock,” said Mark.