THE WITCH WOOD

By RONALD OGDEN "And quietness crept up the hill And the dark woods grew darker still."

RUPERT BROOKE.

IT was autumn. Jake Wackinson and I were going poaching. He was more'n twenty ; a great black- haired boozer. But he could poach.

No one knew how to poach like he could.

I was sixteen.

I loved the darkness.

It seemed to me like things only started to be awake and living in the darkness.

Houses seemed to wake up soon as they lit the lights in them. It made me feel warm and safe to see those houses, and to hear the calls of the men about the farms and the dogs barking ; safer than in daylight.

When I was a kid I used to go out poaching with Father. Maybe that's how I learnt to like it.

Once I caught a little rabbit.

It was too small to kill so he let me keep it. It was soft and smelt of peat and bracken. I wished we didn't have to kill the rabbits but we had to. I didn't let on I felt like that about it but I did.

The ferrets I thought were hateful but I used to handle them. Their white fur made them look naked like the white things I used to find under old boxes in the garden which the sun had never got to. Their pink eyes seemed wrong like a sickly child's are after weeping.

But I wasn't afraid of them though sometimes they used to nip me with their eager white teeth. I felt they were cruel and furtive.

That night it was pale half-moon light. There was a mist near the ground which caught the moon and made things seem unreal. It was a warm night and Jake was in high spirits. He was full of booze as usual.

I didn't care about that.

I felt so good I couldn't care about anything. The moon seemed to eat right into my blood, making it sort of fiery. I felt I wanted to do something crazy, to dance or sing or caper.

We came to a clearing in the wood and Jake set some of the snares. There were plenty of rabbits playing but when we came they bolted.

Jake laughed and shook his fist at them. The village thought him crazy. He seemed to live by poaching and he never got caught.

We put the ferrets down the holes and one by one the snares pulled light round the screaming rabbits' necks. Jake went round methodically striking their heads against his boot. Soon we had ten rabbits in the sack. Jake. was chuckling with glee.

It was then I saw the girl.

She was dancing in the moonlight. And she was naked. I'd never seen a naked girl before.

I think I went all cold.

She can't have been much older than I was. She danced strangely throwing her arms about. Her body swayed like a silver birch tree in the wind.

She was slim and straight and white. Her eyes looked wild, her face was pointed.

Her hands were long and slender.

I thought her face was beautiful. Dark lashes fringed her eyelids.

I watched her, scarcely moving.

I was so taken up with her I had forgotten about Jake altogether. When I looked round he had gone.

Keeping in the shadow of the trees I went nearer to her. She didn't see me until I was within a few yards of her. Then she stopped dead and looked at me.

" Come here," she said, and I walked rather sheepishly towards her.

When I was within arm's length of her she suddenly ran at me and hit me.

She hit hard. I staggered. She hit me again. She hit me on my face and made my nose bleed. Then she hit me on my eye.

At first I didn't feel angry, just puzzled. I didn't want to fight her. She went on though, so I had to fight her. I hit her back on her face.

That only made her wilder. She fought like a cat hitting and trying to scratch me.

When I was a kid a soldier had taught me to box. He'd told me the places to hit to get a knockout. One was tt e. point of the chin, another was just above the heart.

I remembered that now.

I didn't want to hit her face hard. It looked too pretty. So I thought I'd better hit her on her body. I took aim slowly and hit out at her body below her breast.

She gave a gasp and seemed to crumple—falling on her knees. She tried to get up. Then she looked up at me, her eyes full of tears.

I knelt beside her.

Something happened to me.

A great white light seemed to break inside me. I felt made of water. She clung to me. I put my arms around her. I gave her my coat and held her very close to me. She seemed to be crying. Clumsily I tried to comfort her. Suddenly she jumped up and ran. As she went into the shadow she turned and blew a kiss to me. She threw my coat down upon the ground.

For a time I stood there dazed. Then I called " Come back." But I got no answer.

When I got home I couldn't sleep. Something was burning inside me. I felt I must see her again.

Next morning I was up early and went to the place, but there was no sign of her.

That night I waited four hours and many nights after. People began to ask me what was the matter with me. They chaffed me and said it was a girl.

I couldn't tell them.

Sometimes I think perhaps it never happened to me.

Jake says he never saw nothing but the moonlight. He was too busy collecting his snares.

He says he called to me, but I wouldn't answer, so he went home alone thinking I'd follow him.

But I was bruised right enough the next morning. I had to say I'd had a fight with a boy. When they asked me who I said I wouldn't tell them.

Maybe it was a gipsy girl.

They often come thereabouts in their caravans. They say they've got brown skins though, but hers was white as ivory.

I'm thirty now. But I don't think I should ever marry. I've read a lot since but nothing I do can make me forget her.

Maybe it was my imagination. But then, how did I get those bruises ? Unless I fought with a tree.

I never went poaching again. But I used to go out in the moonlight. One night in another part of the wood I came across the dead body of a man. His face was all bashed about and his hand showed deep red teeth marks.

He seemed to have died by strangling.

The teeth marks were small and even, such as a girl might have made.

The man was a local keeper.

The ground was dry so I left no footmarks. Otherwise they might have had me for this murder.

After his body was found the villagers said the woods were haunted by a witch. People said they'd seen her dancing naked. No one dared go there alone. They went in bands.

I felt I couldn't go except alone, so I didn't go at all after that.

But they never caught her.

Maybe the keeper got what he deserved. He was a swine. I'd always hated him.

Now I work in a timber yard and read books. Life is very peaceful. And I feel tranquil enough.

I still love the autumn.

Sometimes I gaze for hours at that blood-red sky over the darkening woods.

I go to the pub occasionally and have a beer or two. Through the haze of smoke Jake Mackinson chaffs me about the fairies. The village calls me queer because I read books and go out walking in the evening. But I like the beer and the friendly talk.

There are other poachers now but they keep away from Witchwood " as they call it.

When the moon sails wise and peaceful in the silver night I shudder and feel ashamed and yet exalted.

Life seems to have passed me by : to have tempted me and then to have eluded me. The memory of that night seems to mock me.

Maybe I ought to marry and have children. But the girls :1/21 the village—nice though they be—don't attract me. They :gem dull and heavy and uninspiring.

Maybe I'm in love with a witch or a fairy, like Jake says. But I don't think I am.

Fairies can't fight like that.