Glyn Severn's Schooldays Part 9

"Got out, sir," continued the proprietor, waving one hand about oratorically, and dabbing his bald head with his hand. "Here, some of you, where's my yellow handkerchy? Oh, I know; I left it in that there apple-wood, and I'd lay sixpence, he's picked it up and swallowed it because it's yellow and he thinks it's the skin of a big orange. Got out of his cage, he did, sir, that there lion--been fiddling all night, I suppose, at the bolts and bars--and we followed him up to where he got in the loose-box of a gentleman's stable; and there was the poor horse down--a beauty he was--and that there lion--Arena his name was--lying on him with his face flattened out and teeth buried in the poor hoss's throat, so that when I got to the stable door there he was, all eyes and whiskers, and growling at you like thunder. I knowed what my work was, sir," continued the proprietor, addressing his conversation entirely to Morris, "and you can ask my men, sir; they was there."

"Ay, ay, ay!" was growled.

"It warn't the time for showing no white feathers when a lion's got his monkey up like that. I brought my gun with me--fine old flint-lock rifle it is, and I got it now--and the next minute that there dead horse had got a dead lion lying beside him. But I sold his skin to a gent for a ten-pun note, to have it stuffed, and it's in his front hall now, near Lungpuddle, in Lancas.h.i.+re.--Well, you, are you going to fetch that there rifle, or am I to fetch it myself?" he yelled at his man.

"Oh, I wouldn't shoot him, guv'nor," growled the man.

"What's it got to do with you?" almost shrieked his master.

"Oh, I aren't going to lose nothing, guv'nor, only a bit of a chum.

He's knocked me about a bit, and tried to squeeze all the wind out of me two or three times; but that was only his fun. I shouldn't like to see him hurt."

"Then perhaps you'd like to go and fetch him out of that there urcherd?"

cried his master.

"He aren't in," said the man st.u.r.dily; "and if he were, no, thank you, to-day. To-morrow morning perhaps I shouldn't mind; but I do say that it'd be a burning shame to shoot the finest elephant there is in England. The one at the Slogical Gardens in London is nothing to him, and you know, master, that that's the truth."

"You fetch my rifle."

"I wouldn't talk quite so loud, guv'nor, if I was you," replied the man.

"Elephants is what they call 'telligent beasts, and you don't know but what that there annymile is a-hearing every word you say and only waiting till I'm gone to make a roosh, knock you down, and do his war-dance all over you."

"Hah! The same as they trample the life out of the tigers at home."

Every one turned sharply upon the speaker, whose voice sounded clear and ringing, as he stood there frowning angrily at the elephant's master.

"Bah! Stuff!" cried the man in his high-pitched voice. "I have read anecdotes about animals, and I know all them stories by heart. They look as if they could; but them beasts can't think, and the stories are all lies.--You be off and fetch that rifle before I send somebody else; and look here, Jem, if you don't obey my orders you take a fortnight's notice to quit from next Sat.u.r.day, when you are paid."

"Then you are going to shoot the elephant," cried Glyn, "because you don't know how to manage him?"

"What!" half-shrieked the man. "Here, I say, where do you go to school?

Things are coming to a pretty pa.s.s when boys like you begin teaching me, who've been nigh forty year in the wild-beast trade! What next?"

"Glyn Severn's right," said Singh sternly.

"Here's another of them!" cried the man, looking round from face to face.

"Quite right," continued Singh. "Why, the poorest coolie in my father's dominions would manage one of the n.o.ble beasts far better."

"Ho!" said Ramball sarcastically. "Then perhaps the biggest swell out of my father's dominions would like to show me how to do it himself."

"I don't know that I can," said Singh quietly; "but I dare say the poor beast would obey me if I tried."

"Oh, pray try, then, sir.--Only, look here, governor," continued the man, addressing Morris, who was not far off, "I don't know whether he's your son or your scholar--I wash my hands of it. I warn you; he's a vicious beast, and I aren't a-going to pay no damages if my young c.o.c.k-a-hoop comes to grief."

Singh laughed a curious, disdainful laugh. Then he took a step in the direction of the elephant, but Glyn caught him by the arm.

"Don't do that, Glyn," said the boy quietly. "I don't believe he would hurt me. Come with me if you like. You know what he'll do if he's going to be savage, and you run one way and I'll run the other."

This was in a low voice, unheard by any one but him for whom it was intended; and the next moment, amidst a profound hush, the two boys moved towards the elephant, who was swaying his head slowly from side to side, and looking "ugly," as the man Jem afterwards said.

Then out of the silence, urged by a sense of duty, Morris cried in a harsh, cracked, emotional voice, not in the least like his own, "Severn!

Prince! Come back! What are you going to do?"

His last words came as if he were half-choked, and then like the rest he stood gazing, with a strange clammy moisture gathering in his hands and upon his brow, for as the two boys drew near, the elephant suddenly raised its head, threw up its trunk, and uttered a shrill trumpeting sound.

As the defiant cry ceased, Singh stepped forward in advance of his companion, and shouted a few words in Hindustani.

The elephant lowered its trunk and stood staring at the boy, as if wonderingly, before coming slowly forward in its heavy, ponderous way, cras.h.i.+ng down the green herbage beneath the orchard trees, and its great grey bulk parting the twigs of a tree that stood alone, and beneath whose shade the monster stopped.

The boys stood still now, and Singh uttered a short, sharp order in Hindustani once more.

Instantly, but in a slow, ponderous way, the great beast slowly subsided, kneeling in the long gra.s.s, while Singh went up quite close, with the animal watching him sharply the while, and laying out its trunk partly towards him, so that when close up the boy planted one of his feet in the wrinkling folds of the monstrous nose, caught hold of the huge flapping ear beside him, climbed quickly up, and the next minute was astride the tremendous neck and uttering another command in the Indian tongue. The result was that the elephant raised its ears slightly so that Singh could nestle his legs beneath; and as he settled himself in position a merry smile spread about his lips.

"Come on, Glyn," he cried. "It's all right. Take my hand."

Glyn obeyed, and as if fully accustomed to the act, he rapidly climbed up and settled himself behind his companion.

There was another sharp order, and the great beast slowly heaved himself up, muttering thunder, and grumbling the while.

"Well, I _am_ blessed!" cried the proprietor. "You, Jem, did you ever see such a game as this?"

The man addressed did not say a word, but gave one thigh a tremendous slap, while the elephant stretched out his trunk towards them, took a step or two in their direction, and uttered a squeal.

Singh shouted out a few words angrily, and the long serpent-like trunk hung pendent once again, with the tip curled up inward so that it should not brush the ground.

"Now then," cried Singh to the proprietor, "where do you want him to go?"

"Right up into the show-field, squire," cried the man excitedly. "Think you can take him?"

"Try," replied the boy with a scornful laugh; "but I ought to have an _ankus_. But never mind, I can do it with words.--I say, Glyn," he continued, speaking over his left shoulder, "we are going to ride in the procession after all. If the Colonel knew, what would he say?"

"But--but--" cried Morris. "My dear boys, pray, pray come down! Think of the consequences to yourselves--and what will be said to me."

"Oh, it's all right, Mr Morris," cried Glyn confidently; "we must take the elephant now. Singh and I have ridden on elephants hundreds of times, though we have never acted the parts of mahouts.--There, go on, Mr What's-your-name, and Singh here will make him carry us back right to where you wish."

There was no further opposition. In fact, it would have been a bold man who would have dared to offer any; but the proprietor came as close as he thought prudent, panting hard, as the huge beast swept along in its stately stride.

"I beg your pardons, young gents--beg your pardons! Honour bright, sirs, I didn't know. Oh, thank you; thank you kindly. You are saving me a hundred pounds at least, and if you'd like a nice silver watch apiece, or a monkey, or a parrot, only say the word, and you shall have the pick of the collection. And look here, gentlemen, I'll give you both perpetual pa.s.ses to my show."

"Thank you! thank you!" Glyn shouted back. "We will come and see it;"

while Singh sat as statuesque as a native mahout, and an imaginative Anglo-Indian would have forgotten his Eton costume and pictured him in white cotton and muslin turban; while, as they neared the great elm-trees where the gap showed grimly in the fence and the boughs hung low, the amateur driver uttered a warning cry in Hindustani, with the result that his great steed threw up its trunk, twined it round a pendent branch that was in their way, snapped it off, and trampled it under foot.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

"SALAAM, MAHARAJAH!"