John Masefield

“ Had the people known in what wars he had been wounded, they would not have been so free with their kindness, perhaps.
It occurred to me that Marah had made the owl's cry (or night signal) to show me that I might expect him at night. So when the gipsies went to bed that night I lay awake among them, pretending to be fast asleep. It was very dark, shut up in the waggon. The gipsies slept heavily, and I could hear the horses outside, cropping on the grass and snorting. Once or twice I heard a clock strike very far away. ”

“ The next morning before daybreak we started off, horses, waggon, and all, away towards the west; going to Portsmouth Fair, the man said, to sell their horses.
I had not been very long among the gipsies when I discovered that I was as much a prisoner as a pet. They would never let me out of their sight. If I tried to get away by myself, one of the children, or a young woman would follow me, or rather, come in the same direction, and pretend not to be following me; but all the time noting where I went, and heading me off carefully if I went too far from the caravan. ”

“ So they hurried me away to their little cart, where I found a boy's suit, which I was glad to put on, as of course I never wore the precious red suit in bed.
"Those were good fire-crackers," said Marah's friend. "They made the horses run."
"Yes," said Marah. "I knew we could clear the gipsies out of the way and get Jim clear. Well, Jim, my son, I'm not strong enough to talk much. I reckon I have done with night-riding since I got this slug in my chest. But here we are again, bound home, my son, with not much shot in the locker." ”

“ The sick man took the mug with his left hand, opening the fingers curiously, and still looking hard at me. My heart gave a great jump, for there were three blue rings tattooed on one of the fingers. The man waved his mug towards me. "Hoo, hoo, hoo," he cried, imitating an owl with his weak voice. "Hoo, hoo, hoo." Then he clapped his right hand across his mouth to warn me to be silent, and drank, with a bow to the giver.
It was Marah, after all. At this moment the caravan started, and the man urged me to enter the waggon again. I did so ”

“ I learned afterwards that gipsies held sacred all boys with hair like mine. They call the ruddy tinge over the forehead "the cross upon crutches"; for long ago, they say, a great gipsy hero had that mark upon his brow in lines of fire; and to this day all people with a fiery lock of hair, they believe, bring luck to them.
When the gipsies had danced for some twenty minutes, the elderly man (who seemed to be a chief among them) begged me (in English) with many profound bows and smiles, to enter their waggon. I had heard that the gipsies stole little children ”