I told him to keep his temper and not make a silly ass of himself. I also asked him what he thought was going to happen. I said:
"We all know you’re always ready for anything--from an Uhlan to a caterpillar--but it seems to me the essence of scouting is to keep wide awake when nothing is happening, like the fleet in the North Sea. Any fool can do things; the thing is always to be ready to do them, and not get your shirt out and lose your nerve because there’s nothing to do."
This good advice fairly settled Travers minor. He undoubtedly lost his temper, as he admitted afterwards, and he said:
"When I want you to tell me my business, Briggs, I’ll let you know."
"Your first business is to keep your hair on, whatever happens."
"Then I’ll relieve you of my company, Briggs."
And, before I could answer, he had got through the hedge and gone off over a field which ran along a wood. I watched him in silent amazement, as they say, and he crossed the field and entered the wood and disappeared.
This action alone showed what a proper rage he was in, because he had gone into the Manor Woods, which was not only going out of bounds, but also trespassing--two things he never did. It was a fearful loss of nerve, and I stood quite still for a good minute after he vanished. Then my first idea was to go and lug him back; but discretion was always the better part of valour with me, and always will be, owing to my character; so I left Travers to his fate, and hoped he’d soon cool down and come back without meeting a keeper. It was growing dusk, too, and I went back to Merivale, and decided not to say anything about Travers minor, except that, while we were engaged in some scouting operations, I had missed him.
I only heard the amazing tale of his adventure afterwards, and though everybody had the story in some shape or form, I got the naked truth from Travers minor himself in his own words. Next morning, much to our surprise, it was given out that Dr. Dunston was unwell, and Fortescue read prayers; and during that event Travers told me all.
"When I left you," he said, "I was in a filthy bate, and for once, instead of not wanting to trespass and break bounds, I did want to. And I went straight into the Manor Woods, and badly frightened some pheasants that had gone to roost, and was immediately soothed. They made a fearful row, and I thought a keeper would be sure to spring up from somewhere, and rather hoped one would, in order to afford me an opportunity for an escape. But nothing happened, and I decided to walk on till I came to the drive, and then boldly go along out of the lodge-gate. Well, I walked through the wood to the drive just before it got dark. I was looking out cautiously from the edge of the wood, to see that all was clear, when I observed a man sitting on the edge of the drive. For a moment I thought it was that wretched Soapy William again. He was humped up and nursing his foot which was evidently badly wounded. Then the man gave a sound between a sigh and a groan and a snuffle, and I saw it was Dr. Dunston!