from the fields, or fresh fruit and potatoes from the garden. A blind eye was turned also to the occasional rabbit – when the estate game-keeper wasn’t around.
It was on one such day, out with his snares to take a rabbit, that Ruth came into his life. He knew well the grassy banks where the warrens lay and he spent some time setting his snares in the well padded runs the rabbits used regularly. He favoured the spots where perhaps a hawthorne had fallen and the grass grew long through the twiggy branches, or, where some obstacle lay and the grass was flattened as the rabbits had regularly taken a particular route back and forth from their burrows. By placing the snare upright on the run where the rabbits emerged from the hawthorne bush he relied upon the unsuspecting animal to push through, putting it’s head through the noose. Panic would cause it to pull against the noose which would tighten about it’s neck and the result would be a good tasty meal. The only problem was that all the best places where the rabbit warrens offered good pickings were as well known to the game-keepers as they were to him and he had to keep his wits about him to avoid being caught.
It didn’t pay to hang about and so, having set his snares, he left with the intention of returning to take his catch later that evening. He favoured to wait until at least after sunset when the rabbits would normally emerge to feed. He made his way to an outlying barn some fields away from the nearest houses, where he would rest a while. He looked around but could see no-one so he stepped inside the open doorway. The transition from bright light to the gloom inside the barn made it a little difficult to see but, his sixth sense told him that there was something or someone there. He pretended to be unaware and he sat himself down on a pile of hay but he was careful to be in a good position near the doorway.
He was vaguely aware of a sound or a movement and although he pretended not to look in that direction, from the corner of his eye he saw the shadow that now made a frantic dash for the door. Amos was extremely agile and he launched himself from his sitting position to block the exit. He was absolutely astonished to see a young dishevelled child, a girl, obviously trying to escape. He stood with his back to the light which probably gave the impression of someone quite large.
Amos made no effort to take hold of the child as she shrank away from him whimpering. Realising she was afraid he spoke to her in, what he considered to be, a quiet comforting manner, assuring her that he didn’t intend to harm her, “Don’t be frightened. I only came in here to rest a while. You quite surprised me. I wasn’t sure what it was; perhaps some wild animal”.
There was no response from the child, so he continued, “I can see that I’ve frightened you so I’ll go and leave you alone.” The child simply whimpered and covered her face with her hands.
“Don’t cry. I’m going now so you don’t need to fear me”, he said as he retreated through the door.
The experience had unsettled him and he was fearful that she was from one of the farms, which could be very awkward for him. He walked a little way and then turned about to see the small girl just inside the doorway, peeping around the corner at him. He waved a hand to her then continued about his business, not looking to see where she went.
Amos tried his best to put the thought of the little girl out of his mind but no matter how he occupied himself with other thoughts his sub-conscious would return to the child over and over again. The terrified look on her face seemed to haunt him but at last, he drifted off into oblivion. He was awake with the morning light and he arose to a typical wet, misty autumn daybreak. The stream, running behind his caravan, looked rather cold but Amos did as most mornings and stripped down to the waist. The muscular frame was that of young man used to hard labour and carried no sign of easy living. Bending at the knees he sat on his haunches and scooped the sparkling water in his two hands and threw it over his head and face, rubbing vigorously. Standing, he threw back his head and slicked the water from his jet-black hair, then giving a violent shake of his shoulders, dislodged most of the water from his torso. He dipped his bucket, into the clear water and carried it to the caravan where he dried himself before dressing.
Opening the box seat just inside the van he took out some of the dried moss and kindling, and, moving the tripod from the remains of last night’s fire, he scraped away some of the white wood-ash to reveal just the slightest semblance of live red embers. Bending closer he gently blew over the embers and produced a small flame which he quickly fed with the moss which immediately became a blaze. With the kindling and the dry Ash branches he’d collected he soon had a useful fire. Adding a little salt to the water in his pot he hung it from the tripod, directly over the flames. One of the two rabbits from last evening’s exercise was quickly skinned and placed into the boiling water together with some diced potato, carrot, and turnip. As the meal cooked, he spread the pelt from the rabbit on a board and stretching it tight he pegged it fur side down, spread-eagled and tight as a drum. He drew his knife from its sheath and with the sharp edge of the blade he scraped the pelt clean of any meat or fat residue. He placed the pelt, still pegged out, on the floor and then taking a handful of salt he worked it into the skin. It could now be left to dry, and added to the others he was saving to sew into a jacket.
As he sat there intent upon his work, he was suddenly aware of a movement nearby and looking up he saw the child of the previous evening. She stood a good distance away from him as though she was maintaining a good margin of safety. She didn’t speak but Amos realised she was focused on the cooking pot and it was obvious that the aroma of the stew had drawn this waif near. He thought how small, unwashed and shabbily dressed the child was. Remaining where he was he said casually,
“It’s rabbit, would you like some? There’s plenty”. There was no reply from the girl but it was plain to see that she wanted - no, needed - the food, so without further thought he climbed the steps of the van and emerged with two dishes.
The pot had been boiling for more than an hour and the stew was ready, it smelled delicious. Holding the handle with a piece of Hessian, he lifted the pot from the fire and placed it on the ground making the grass sizzle. Flipping off the lid with a large ladle he filled the two dishes with a good portion of liquid and vegetables. The rabbit carcase had virtually fallen apart in the cooking and he skewered a leg with a fork and placed it in a dish. He shook his fingers and blew on them to indicate to the child that it was hot and then he reached again for the rabbit carcase and took his own share.
Despite her hunger, she was still reluctant to come near, so to help break this barrier Amos took his dish and moved away. Now feeling more secure she moved in towards the food. Again Amos warned her, “Be careful it’s very hot.”
It was good to see the child eat. Amos had broken some bread on a plate on the caravan steps and she took some and dipped it into the stew. He was sure she hadn’t eaten for some considerable time. Maintaining his distance, just to give her confidence, he asked,
“What’s your name?”
Almost inaudibly she responded, “Ruth”.
“How old are you Ruth?” he probed.
Still in little more than a whisper and with her mouth full of food she replied,
“I don’t know”.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
”Nowhere” she responded.
“Well, where’s your mother and father?” he continued.
The child looked up from her food, clearly distressed, and said, “Some men took her. They tried to catch me but I ran away”.
Amos was beginning to feel uneasy at this interrogation but he asked,
“When did this happen?” and she replied,
“Two days ago. I was hiding in that barn when you came. I thought you were one of those men”, and the tears began to run down her cheeks.
“Please don’t cry, I don’t want to upset you”, Amos said. She sobbed, “I don’t know who they were or where they took her. Some of them had funny coats on”.
Amos realised that to question the child further was only going to deepen her distress and so he let matters rest for a while.