single mindedness or might she applaud it?
How would he describe the landscape now? Was it so different from where he had come from? It was the one island after all; a person would be forgiven for thinkingit was an island of fields. Since leaving Belfast they had seen little else. Daniel hoped to visit Dublin city; now that would be worth describing around the Sherrard dinner table. He had heard it was almost as big as London and contained colleges and students and libraries and the Lord knows what else.
The day passed steadily, as expected, in hundreds of thousands of footsteps until the sun began to slide towards its bed and word went round to break for camp. The scouts would have suggested this location because it provided access to fresh water and trees. Soldiers busied themselves erecting their tents while others were summoned to carry out necessary tasks.
As usual Robert had orders for his little brother, confident in Daniel’s trustworthiness when it came to gathering firewood.
Daniel didn’t mind. Having spent the entire day walking in the middle of a tightly packed crowd, the boy yearned to be released into the nearby forest to search for fallen branches or whatever else he could find. He wasn’t the only one sent out for wood, but he quickly dislodged himself from the pack and tried not to fret about wild animals.
In any case, he could hear his wood-gathering colleagues complaining about their aching feet and their empty bellies and that made him feel safe enough.
He moved farther away from them but could still hear their voices in the distance. Robert nagged him about not being friendly enough but Daniel felt no great urge to get along with his fellow soldiers. Wasn’t he surrounded by them night and day? The only time he didn’t see them was when he closed his eyes. Certainly it was no surprise to him that he should want to linger in the forest, even if it was a little creepy in the strained light of the setting sun.
He grudgingly began to look around for twigs, feeling he should at least do this much before it got too dark to find any. Of course there wouldn’t be a lot on offer as the forest was in the whole of its summertime health. He walked on, following meandering threads of pathways, wondering if anyone had stepped here before him. Finally he found some old, dried-up twigs dangling from bushes and foliage, never having made it all the way down to the ground. However, he knew that they would burn too quickly without providing any warmth and continued looking for newer branches to add to his bundle.
He could still hear the others calling out to one another as he spied a tree in front of him from which a long, solid branch hung low. That’s more like it , he thought, and put down the twigs. He leapt and fastened both hands around the branch which barely creaked in protest. Then he swung himself back and forth, back and forth. When he realisedthis wasn’t working he began to jostle the branch up and down, feeling that it should give at any moment. It didn’t. The tree had no interest in delivering up one of its own, though Daniel was doing his utmost. He decided to raise both legs until his feet wrapped round the branch. Next, he hauled himself into a precarious sitting position that he managed to hold for one glorious moment until he lost his balance and smashed heavily to the ground.
He lay there stunned and embarrassed, grateful that there were no witnesses. Or so he thought.
The ground was cool, but it was pleasant to lie there awhile and breathe in the smell of the undergrowth. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and imagined that he could start a new life here and set up home beneath this very tree. Well, why not? No more army, no more war talk and no more of Henry’s taunting. Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear only birdsong and the quarrelling of animals … and nothing more serious than that.
As he lay there, Daniel found himself thinking of Horace. He imagined he heard his
How would he describe the landscape now? Was it so different from where he had come from? It was the one island after all; a person would be forgiven for thinkingit was an island of fields. Since leaving Belfast they had seen little else. Daniel hoped to visit Dublin city; now that would be worth describing around the Sherrard dinner table. He had heard it was almost as big as London and contained colleges and students and libraries and the Lord knows what else.
The day passed steadily, as expected, in hundreds of thousands of footsteps until the sun began to slide towards its bed and word went round to break for camp. The scouts would have suggested this location because it provided access to fresh water and trees. Soldiers busied themselves erecting their tents while others were summoned to carry out necessary tasks.
As usual Robert had orders for his little brother, confident in Daniel’s trustworthiness when it came to gathering firewood.
Daniel didn’t mind. Having spent the entire day walking in the middle of a tightly packed crowd, the boy yearned to be released into the nearby forest to search for fallen branches or whatever else he could find. He wasn’t the only one sent out for wood, but he quickly dislodged himself from the pack and tried not to fret about wild animals.
In any case, he could hear his wood-gathering colleagues complaining about their aching feet and their empty bellies and that made him feel safe enough.
He moved farther away from them but could still hear their voices in the distance. Robert nagged him about not being friendly enough but Daniel felt no great urge to get along with his fellow soldiers. Wasn’t he surrounded by them night and day? The only time he didn’t see them was when he closed his eyes. Certainly it was no surprise to him that he should want to linger in the forest, even if it was a little creepy in the strained light of the setting sun.
He grudgingly began to look around for twigs, feeling he should at least do this much before it got too dark to find any. Of course there wouldn’t be a lot on offer as the forest was in the whole of its summertime health. He walked on, following meandering threads of pathways, wondering if anyone had stepped here before him. Finally he found some old, dried-up twigs dangling from bushes and foliage, never having made it all the way down to the ground. However, he knew that they would burn too quickly without providing any warmth and continued looking for newer branches to add to his bundle.
He could still hear the others calling out to one another as he spied a tree in front of him from which a long, solid branch hung low. That’s more like it , he thought, and put down the twigs. He leapt and fastened both hands around the branch which barely creaked in protest. Then he swung himself back and forth, back and forth. When he realisedthis wasn’t working he began to jostle the branch up and down, feeling that it should give at any moment. It didn’t. The tree had no interest in delivering up one of its own, though Daniel was doing his utmost. He decided to raise both legs until his feet wrapped round the branch. Next, he hauled himself into a precarious sitting position that he managed to hold for one glorious moment until he lost his balance and smashed heavily to the ground.
He lay there stunned and embarrassed, grateful that there were no witnesses. Or so he thought.
The ground was cool, but it was pleasant to lie there awhile and breathe in the smell of the undergrowth. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and imagined that he could start a new life here and set up home beneath this very tree. Well, why not? No more army, no more war talk and no more of Henry’s taunting. Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear only birdsong and the quarrelling of animals … and nothing more serious than that.
As he lay there, Daniel found himself thinking of Horace. He imagined he heard his
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