“No more they do. It wants lots of banging and smoke—else its nothing.”
“No; only chopping and sticking.”
“And smashing and yelling.”
“No—and that’s nothing.”
“Only if we have rifles,” said Mark thoughtfully; “you see, people don’t see one another; they are so far off, and nobody stands on a bridge and keeps back all the enemy all by himself.”
“And nobody has a triumph afterwards with elephants and chariots, and paints his face vermilion.”
“Let’s have bow and arrow time,” said Mark; “it’s much nicer—and you sell the prisoners for slaves and get heaps of money, and do just as you like, and plough up the cities that don’t please you.”
“Much nicer,” said Bevis; “you very often kill all the lot and there’s nothing silly. I shall be King Richard and have a battle-axe—no, let’s be the Normans.”
“Wouldn’t King Arthur do?”
“No; he was killed, that would be stupid. I’ve a great mind to be Charlemagne.”