At the age of thirteen, Humboldt helped his father run the family's farm, until his father's sudden and untimely death. They had found him up in the west field, his ankle swollen and his chest bruised. It was believed that he had probably stepped into a rabbit hole and fallen whilst herding the dairy cows down from the top fields. The herd, unstoppable, had overrun him. The suffocating crush had more than likely put a strain on his already weak heart and had suffered a fatal heart attack. Distraught, Humboldt and his mother had buried him at Saint Agatha's in Ruskington the following day.

Being an only child, Humboldt felt it was his responsibility, and duty, to take care of the farm and of his mother. For almost a year he had toiled night and day, working until he too, could take no more. His mother found him in the yard, collapsed from exhaustion. Fear of losing her son had been too much for his widowed mother. After several days of bed rest his strength had returned, but the work load had built up to such a degree, he could no longer cope with the demands of the farm. Almost on the first anniversary of her husband's death, Widow Granger, forced by the heavy burden of the farm, accepted the proposal of marriage from her neighbor and wealthy land owner.

Timothy Newhart was a self-made man and owner of a large and productive estate. Much to Humboldt's dismay, they had married, and their small farm merged with the larger Newhart estate. The move to their new home, and the presence of his new father had been difficult for young Humboldt, especially meeting his new step brother, Henry. Henry Newhart was a bossy and moody boy, two years his elder. No matter how hard Humboldt had tried to engage with him, Henry would have none of it. He spoke seldom to Humboldt, and never kindly. The brothers had soon come to blows, Humboldt had walked in on Henry telling his father that he thought that his new stepmother was only after his money and that he should never turn his back on the witch. Before their father could step between them, Humboldt had lunged at Henry and beat him. Although he was the youngest of the pair, Humboldt had shown Henry he was also the stronger.

The one good thing that had come from all of the unpleasant upheaval was his new seven year old step sister, Elizabeth. A beautiful blonde haired waif of a girl- full of restless energy- who loved to disappear into the countryside and explore. The first time Humboldt had seen her she had been walking through a light summer rain in the sunken garden, among the flower beds. He had introduced himself, and had joined her for a while. Many a day after that, they had spent laughing, and joking whilst walking in the countryside and hiking through the woods. They delighted in the dells they found full of wildflowers, and bathed in sunshine so as to make their hearts swell with gladness. Elizabeth had shown him the secret places she liked to play. Places she would take refuge in now and then.

Humboldt told her of his father and how he had died. How he and his mother had struggled to keep their farm going, until it was too much for them to manage. Elizabeth told Humboldt of how her mother had been taken ill one Christmas Eve, several winters back, and had quickly grown weak and frail. She had died of influenza soon after. They shared many more secrets and thoughts. Over a short couple of weeks, they had come to love each other as if they had always been brother and sister. Walking back through the extensive gardens Elizabeth turned to him, suddenly hugging him, and said,

"I like you Humboldt, I'm glad you're my new brother. You're much nicer than Barkermouth"

Humboldt asked quizzically "Who's Barkermouth, Not a dog I hope?"

Elizabeth shook her finger at him "Henry of course, silly, he spends all his time shouting at people, and barking orders at the staff. So I gave him a new and suitable name. What do you think of it, Bloomdell?" she giggled at the name she had just thought up for Humboldt, the lover of wild flowers.

Humboldt smiled "I like mine best, it's very descriptive. Very......." he paused to think, "Very me" he said, and they laughed together and hugged.

Too soon the summer holidays came to an end, and Elizabeth had to return to school. They could only spend time together at the weekends. A week later, his moody and ill-tempered step brother, Henry, had also packed a trunk, and taken a train to the city of Oxford. Henry had always wished to be educated in Oxford, first at Winchester College, and later to win a place in the University of Oxford itself. He had sworn, come what may, he would be the finest barrister that Oxford had ever produced.

Humboldt had not seen his stepbrother again until the winter break, when Henry had returned to spend a rather unpleasant Christmas at home. They had come to an unspoken agreement, Henry would no longer make reference to Humboldt's mother, as that money grabbing witch, and Humboldt would simply leave Henry to go about his own business, and stop attempting to make friendly. Humboldt found this to be a satisfactory arrangement, as he did not like the ignorant boy anyway, and would much rather spend time with the delightful Elizabeth.

Now that Humboldt no longer had the responsibility of his father's farm weighing heavily on his shoulders, he returned to school, where he met a wonderful young girl called Jessica. Smitten in an instance, Humboldt made every excuse to be in her presence. At school they were only allowed a little time together. Although the school was a single building, boys and girls were segregated and taught separately. At the end of each day the bell would ring, and Humboldt would rush to walk Jessica home, whilst listening adoringly to every word she spoke. He smiled and laughed in delight as she read poetry to him. It felt as if his very life depended upon hearing her voice. His nights became long, as he began to write her poems of love, so as to be able to read them to her every morning. Embarrassed, he would read them to her during their morning walk to school. It was plain for all to see that they were in love. Unknown to them, Jessica already had an admirer that watched secretly from a distance. Henry; ready to depart for Oxford to start his university education, watched the two sweethearts with distaste. Jealousy bubbled up every time the beautiful young Jessica swooned in front of his stepbrother. Humboldt had stolen the love of everyone important in Henry's life, his father, his sister and now Jessica.  He hated him even more.

"She should have been mine. She will be mine" Henry thought as he boarded the train for Oxford. "Once Jessica sees Humboldt for the scum he is, she will realize her mistake. I shall enjoy the day when she begs to be mine". Many months would pass before he returned.

During those months, Humboldt and Jessica could not be parted. Their weekends were devoted to each other. They would walk arm in arm, meandering through the estate's woodlands. They found a beautiful dell and picnicked among the wildflowers and butterflies. Their love blossomed in the warmth of those summer days. Humboldt had never been so happy, or so in love. He wished more than anything in the world to marry his sweet Jessica.

Tragedy was soon to strike the Newhart-Granger family, a tragedy that the family would find difficult to overcome. Loss would divide the two brothers far beyond reconciliation.

During early Autumn, Henry returned home to the family estate. Having spent his first night trying to reconcile his difference of opinion with his father, he had admitted he could never love either his stepmother or stepbrother. But for the love of his father he would try his best to be pleasant and agreeable. He told himself that he would tolerate them during his stay. So he had decided to spend as little time as possible, on, or around the farm, whilst trying not to seeming as if he was avoiding them. The very next morning, Henry made his excuses, and joined a group of friends for a day of hunting game, over on the fells. He had always felt a release of stress when grouse and pheasant shooting. The estate's head game keeper, Mr Finley, had sent out beaters as soon as dawn broke, they would scare up the day's targets.

On that fateful morning, Humboldt and Elizabeth had decided to take a morning ride out onto the fells themselves. Humboldt rode on a large brown Connemara, Elizabeth rode Sugar, her white and grey patched pony that her father had given her for her 9th birthday earlier that year. Humboldt had planned a lovely morning for her. First, they took a short gallop up to the river Bord. Then they slowly trotted along the westward bank, until they passed beyond the small stone bridge where the road to the town of Borden crossed. The river narrowed under the bridge and cascaded down several feet of a rocky outcrop, before speeding up and rushing away. The banks were covered with wild garlic, its blossom was a delicate white flower, almost as beautiful as Elizabeth, Humboldt thought.

He jumped down and weaved for her a fair maiden's crown, and placed it upon her head as she giggled joyfully. They cantered along the riverside and watched as ducks and drakes and their ducklings paddled around the river's edge feeding on clouds of gnats that hovered just above the water's surface. With a sharp eye, Humboldt could see that once every so often, a duckling would dive below the water's surface, and never come back up. A splash of water was followed by the flick and flash of the tail of a large pike. The fish turned and swam away happily with its catch. Riding a little further along the bank, they entered Thorn woods. Securing their horses to a large oak, the two step siblings followed a seldom traveled path. Skipping through the tall grass, laughing with delight at each others company, they disappeared further into the woods. Humboldt picked a length of grass and placed it between his lips and began to chew the sweet sap. They had spent hours wandering aimlessly through the forest, and climbing the low boughs of large trees. Finding a small open glade, they both ate a small picnic that he had prepared for her. Eventually, the sun began to dip, and it was time for them to return home.

Making there way back through the darkening wood to their horses, they mounted, and turning east, trotted back down the track. Rounding a solitary stand of trees, and approaching the stone bridge, Elizabeth spied a deer as it came bounding out from the copse. She brought her pony to a halt, and watched as the buck frolicked up to her. Humboldt, in front, had not seen her stop, and continued to trot further around and onto the bridge.

Over the bridge and even further over the fields to the southern side of the woods, Henry emerged from the brush. His shotgun hung from his arm, its breech was open, and the chambers empty. He had spotted Humboldt cresting the hump of the bridge, and with a mischievous grin, loaded and locked his gun. Shouldering it, Henry aimed high over Humboldt's head and chuckled to himself.

"This will give the runt of the gold digger something to cry about"

He squeezed down on the trigger, just as their eyes met. Henry smiled at him, and fired.

On reaching the brow of the bridge, Humboldt realized that Elizabeth was no longer with him. Bringing his horse to a halt, he turned in his saddle to look behind, wondering what she was up to. He smiled at her as she trotted around the bend, with a grin of her own lighting up her beautiful angelic face. He listened to her as she joyously shouted at him "Bloomdell, did you see it? The deer, it came all the way up to me. It was magnificent"

Humboldt laughed at the sound of joy in her voice, and beckoned her on. That had been the last time he had heard her sweet voice, or seen her beautiful white porcelain face. She spurred Sugar onto the bridge. Humboldt turned back in his saddle, and spotted Henry standing over to the other side of the wheat field. Henry was aiming his gun in their direction. Humboldt could see the manic grin on his step brother's face. He realized Henry's intent to scare them, and so frantically waved his arms and shouted warning of Elizabeth's approach. But Henry, as always, disregarded Humboldts warning. Ignoring him, he fired both barrels. The shots rang out, sudden and urgent. Cracking loudly overhead, the blasts startled thousands of birds into flight, so many as to darken the sky. His finger had ratcheted down the trigger, whilst at the very same moment his face slowly dropped as he watched his beloved sister appear from behind Humboldt. Now he understood, but it had been too late, the gun had fired.

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