Presently he came quietly back from a gap by a hollow willow, and giving Bevis the gun (which he had hitherto carried himself, being very anxious lest an accident should happen), whispered to him that there were three young rabbits out in the grass.
"Aim at the shoulder," said Jack, thinking Bevis might miss the head. "And be sure you don't pull both triggers at once, and--I say--" But Bevis had started. Bevis stepped as noiselessly as a squirrel, and glancing carefully round the willow saw the rabbits' ears pricked up in the grass. They had heard or seen him, but being so young were not much frightened, and soon resumed feeding.
He lifted the gun, which was somewhat heavy, having been converted from a muzzle-loader, and old guns were made heavier than is the custom now. One of the rabbits moving turned his back to him, so that he could not see the shoulder; the other was behind a bunch of grass; but in a minute the third moved, and Bevis aimed at him. The barrels would not at first keep quite steady, the sight, just as he had got it on the rabbit, jumped aside or drooped, so that he had to try twice before he was satisfied.
"What a time he is," whispered Mark, when Bevis pulled the trigger, and they all ran forward. Jack jumped through the gap and picked up the rabbit, which was kicking in the grass. Bevis rubbed his shoulder and felt his collar-bone.
"Hurt?" said Jack, laughing. "Kicked? I was going to tell you only you were in such a hurry. You should have held the stock tight to your shoulder, then it would not kick. There, like this; now try."
Bevis took the gun and pressed it firm to his bruised shoulder.
"Got it tight?" said Jack. "Aim at that thistle, and try again."
"But he'll frighten the rabbits, and it's my turn," said Mark.
"All gone in," said Jack, "every one; you'll have to wait till they come out again. Shoot."
Bevis shot, and the thistle was shattered. It scarcely hurt him at all, it would not have done so in the least, only his shoulder was tender now.
"That it's not," said Bevis. "How dare you say so?"
"The size of a kitten," said Jack. "As sweet as a chicken," he added, "when cooked, and as white. You shall have it to-morrow for dinner-- just the right size to be nice;" he saw that Bevis was rather inclined to be doubtful, and wished to reassure him. Jack was a huge, kind-hearted giant.