Animal Tales

by Terry Jones

  Naturally it is in great demand during the Oscar season when unscrupulous film companies smuggle them into rival screenings.

  THE ELEPHANT WHO HAD NO TROUSERS

  SIR REGINALD ELEPHANT WAS A VERY RESPECTABLE ANIMAL, but it grieved him that he had no trousers.

  “I must have a pair of trousers for the Queen’s Visit!” he said. So he went to the Monkey to get a suit made. The Monkey measured him from the tip of his trunk to the tip of his tail, and then shook his head.

  “I’m sorry, Sir Reginald,” said the Monkey, “I simply don’t have enough cloth to make you a suit.”

  “That’s all right!” replied Sir Reginald. “It’s only the trousers I’m really interested in. Just make me a pair of trousers.”

  “Alas!” said the Monkey. “I don’t have enough cloth for even one trouser leg in your size.”

  “Bother!” said Sir Reginald Elephant, and he went along to the Goat who lived under the Cabbage Tree.

  “Goat, old fellow!” said Sir Reginald. “I desperately need a pair of trousers for the Queen’s Visit. Monkey hasn’t got enough cloth to make even one trouser leg – so I wonder if you could let me have a bit of your wool?”

  The Goat gave Sir Reginald a sour look, and tossed its head.

  “It’s not wool!” he exclaimed. “And I’m not an “old fellow”! I’m a young Angora Goat and my fleece is extremely expensive!”

  “Terribly sorry, old chap!” said Sir Reginald Elephant. “Didn’t mean to cause offence.”

  And he lumbered off, muttering to himself: “Bother!”

  When he got to the river, there were some sheep standing in a field, so Sir Reginald leaned over the fence and called out:

  “I say! I need a spot of wool for a pair of trousers for the Queen’s Visit! Could you oblige?”

  But the sheep shook their heads.

  “All our wool belongs to the fa…aaa…aaa…aaarmer,” they said. “We ca…aaa…aaa…aaan’t just give it away to the first e-e-e-e-e-elephant who aaa…aaa…aaasks!”

  Sir Reginald Elephant went and stood in the shade of a Baobab Tree, for the sun was getting rather warm, and then he said “Bother!” again.

  “What’s up, mate?” asked a Weaver Ant who was scurrying along one of the branches of the Baobab Tree.

  “I need a pair of trousers for the Queen’s Visit,” explained Sir Reginald. “But there just isn’t enough cloth to make ‘em. And nobody seems to be able to help.”

  “Maybe I can, old sport!” said the ant.

  “That’s very kind of you,” replied Sir Reginald, “but when I look at your size and the striking absence of any wool, or even fleece, on your back, I very much doubt it.”

  “Brother Elephant,” said the Weaver Ant, “don’t worry your noddle about that!”

  And before Sir Reginald could wave his trunk, there were half a million ants swarming down the branch and over his legs.

  “I say! That tickles!” exclaimed Sir Reginald Elephant, and if you’ve ever had half a million ants crawling over your legs, you’d know exactly what he meant.

  “Hold still, Brother Elephant!” cried the Weaver Ant. “My mates are just measuring you up!”

  And sure enough, before Sir Reginald had a chance to blow his trunk, those half a million ants had scurried off his legs and were all over the Baobab Tree.

  “What’s going on?” cried Sir Reginald Elephant, as the ants pulled leaf after leaf off the Baobab and then scurried back to him

  “Hold still, Brother Elephant!” shouted the Weaver Ant as the other ants swarmed up the Elephant’s tail and over his back legs, pulling the leaves with them. And before Sir Reginald had a chance to adjust his spectacles, those ants had started to sew the leaves together – which is, after all, what Weaver Ants do.

  Chains of ants held the leaves in place, while the others sewed and knitted, until they’d made a whole pair of trousers out of leaves, that fitted Sir Reginald Elephant just as if they had been made for him – which of course they had.

  When the Weaver Ants had finished, Sir Reginald did a little twirl around to show his new trousers off, and the ants all stood back and admired their own handiwork.

  “Green trousers!” exclaimed Sir Reginald. “Just the job! Whoopeee! Is there anything I can do for you ants?”

  “Just try not to tread on us in future,” said the Weaver Ant.

  “Absolutely!” cried Sir Reginald, and, taking great care where he put his feet, he went off to wait for the Queen’s Visit.

  Well the Queen didn’t visit that week, nor the week after, nor the week after that, and Sir Reginald began to think she would never come. However, the rains passed and the dry season came, and finally the word got around the jungle that the Queen was on her way.

  Now the Boabab tree loses its leaves in the dry season, and so it was that Sir Reginald’s trousers turned a beautiful shade of gold.

  “My word!” exclaimed Sir Reginald. “I bet those Weaver Ants didn’t realize what a valuable pair of trousers they’d given me! Imagine! I’ll be wearing golden trousers when I meet the Queen! I wouldn’t be surprised if she says: ‘Kneel, Sir Reginald! You are too magnificent an elephant to remain a mere knight! Arise, Lord Reginald of The Golden Trousers!’ That’s what she’ll say!” And he started to parade around the jungle, showing off his golden trousers to every animal who cared to look.

  Eventually the great morning came, and Sir Reginald was in a regular tizz. He hadn’t slept a wink all night, and now, as he stood in a prominent position where the Queen would be sure to notice him, he found himself nodding off. But he tried to pull himself together.

  “It would be too dreadful for words if I were to miss Her Majesty’s visit because I was asleep,” he kept telling himself, and forcing his eyes to stay open.

  He stood there through the dawn rush for the waterhole. He stood there as the sun rose higher, and the scrub began to crackle as if it were cooking in the heat, though really it was the sound of myriads of insects and out-of-sight creatures. He stood there till noon, with the sun beating down, until the heat became as real and as solid as another elephant standing by his side.

  He stood there, with his eyelids closing and closing, ready for the moment when Her Majesty should deign to notice him in his golden trousers. And eventually he couldn’t help himself: Sir Reginald Elephant nodded off.

  The littlest monkeys started pulling faces at him and climbing up his trunk. But their mothers shook their heads.

  “Poor Sir Reginald,” they said.

  “And he went to such trouble to find a pair of trousers.”

  “And such smart trousers they are…”

  But they didn’t say anything more, because Sir Reginald had begin to snore, and the monkey mothers couldn’t hear what each other was saying.

  At that moment, all the animals (apart from Sir Reginald Elephant of course) saw a cloud of dust on the horizon, that seemed to be coming nearer and nearer.

  “It’s the royal party,” announced one of the lions, who had ambitions to become a Palace Correspondent.

  And sure enough, just under Sir Reginald’s vociferous snoring they could hear the sound of several motor cars bouncing over the hot and dusty plain.

  “It looks like Her Majesty is wearing a safari hat instead of her usual crown,” said the lion sounding a trifle disappointed.

  However the lions all arranged themselves in a typical pose that they thought would impress Her Majesty, with Father Lion standing proudly looking into the distance and Mother Lion lying contentedly by his side and the cubs playing cutely at their feet.

  Even the leopards had got themselves organized by the time the Royal party drew up to them. The leopards were prowling about looking distinctly irritated, which is what any visitor to the wilds of Africa expects leopards to look like.

  As the dust from the car wheels subsided, various men leapt out of the vehicles and one of them rushed to the leading Land Rover and opened the door. The Queen climbed out and looked around her,
as the Ranger pointed out the lions in their typical pose and warned Her Majesty not to try and feed the leopards.

  “One can assure you that one has absolutely no intention of trying to feed those beasts – they look particularly dangerous,” replied Her Majesty.

  “As indeed they are,” said the Ranger. Then under his breath he muttered to the leopards: “Well done boys.”

  “But what is that dreadful noise, Ranger?” asked the Queen. “It sounds like the Martians attacking in The War of the Worlds.”

  “I am afraid it is the elephant who has fallen asleep,” replied the Ranger.

  “Then pray wake him up at once!” commanded the Queen. “I can hardly hear myself think!”

  So the Ranger nodded to the drivers of the Land Rovers and they all hit their horns at once, and the horns made such a noise it woke Sir Reginald Elephant from his deep sleep.

  Now Sir Reginald had been having a dream in which the entire Cheltenham Ladies College had been visiting him for tea, and all the Ladies had been particularly admiring of his golden trousers. But some leopards happened to be passing by and they started jeering and making rude noises that got louder and louder until it sounded like lots of car horns blaring at once. Whereupon Sir Reginald woke up feeling very indignant.

  “Shut up!” he yelled at the Royal party. “You rude, ill-bred creatures! And that goes for you too!” He said to their leader, who was wearing a safari hat.

  Well there was a silence in which you might hear a pin drop.

  And then Sir Reginald began to realize where he was, and that the leopards were actually the Royal Party and the lady in the safari hat was none other than Her Majesty the Queen of England, herself!

  Sir Reginald Elephant wished he could sink into the ground and disappear, but since he couldn’t do that, he decided to make a run for it. Now his golden trousers were only golden, of course, because the leaves had died, and so when he decided to make a run for it he span round and shook the leaves so violently that they began to fall. As they fell around his feet, with the Queen of England looking on, Sir Reginald tried desperately to catch them, and that was when he made his big mistake.

  When you think of the construction of an elephant, and the way it stands on four legs, it’s obvious what will happen if it tries to pull up its trousers. And that is indeed what happened. Sir Reginald fell flat on his face in front of the Queen! His chin hit the ground and his trunk flailed out across the dry earth, sending up all the dust that had just settled in dense cloud, immediately engulfing Her Majesty.

  When the dust settled, a lot of it had settled on the Queen of England. She stood there, like a stone statue, along with her flunkies and butlers and personal assistants all standing there as if they had been turned to stone.

  Sir Reginald swallowed once. Then twice. Then he blinked. Then he scrambled to his feet, and ran. He ran as fast as he could and as far away as possible, leaving his trousers lying on the ground in front of the Queen and her entourage.

  And the Queen’s flunkies and butlers and personal assistants looked at her with open mouths, expecting her to order the elephant to be caught and destroyed or perhaps sent to some prison for rogue elephants if she were feeling particularly merciful. But she didn’t.

  Instead she burst into laughter and, of course, that is also what the flunkies and butlers and personal assistants did too. The Ranger and the trackers and the drivers of the Land Rovers joined in, and they all started laughing and laughing and laughing.

  And even though Sir Reginald had disappeared into the deepest part of the jungle, that laughter followed him all the way home.

  Some time later, the Monkey approached Sir Reginald Elephant, and said:

  “Sir Reginald, I am so sorry I could not oblige you with a pair trousers the other week. However, I am happy to be able to tell you I have now secured enough cloth to make you the full suit. I await your instructions.”

  Sir Reginald turned to the Monkey Tailor. “My dear sir,” he said. “I left my trousers with the Queen of England. I shall never wear another pair, until she sees fit to return them.”

  And he gave the Monkey a polite nod, and went on his way.

  THE SKUNK & THE BEAR

  A LITTLE SKUNK ONCE FELL IN LOVE WITH A BEAR. “You are the most handsome, the bravest and most charming creature in the whole forest,” she told him. “I love your rough fur coat, your rough voice, and your rough ways. But I see you are also a thoughtful bear, for I have often observed you sitting and thinking. I could imagine no greater happiness than to have my life bound up with yours.”

  But Bear didn’t reply, for he was fast asleep. Perhaps Little Skunk would never have dared tell him all those things if he’d been awake.

  Little Skunk would wait for Bear to come out of his cave, and she would watch him waking up and stretching. She loved the way he blinked in the sunlight. She loved the way he rose up on his great hind legs to sniff the breeze and the way he rubbed his snout with his strong fore paws. She loved the way his fur glistened and shook as he came down on all fours and loped off through the trees.

  Her friends told Little Skunk to forget about Bear. “Bears and skunks can’t mix,” they said. “It’s ridiculous! What could you ever do for a bear? And what could a bear ever do for you?”

  But it didn’t make any difference. Little Skunk still loved his great brown eyes and his pink tongue.

  Then one day something terrible happened. Some men entered the forest and laid a trap for Bear.

  Now Bear was a wary creature, and that morning when he stood up on his hind legs and sniffed the breeze, he could smell that men had been in the forest, so he was extra watchful. And that was how, peering around, he caught sight of Little Skunk as she gazed at him through the trees.

  It so happens that bears are particularly disgusted by the dreadful scent that skunks produce, so as soon as Bear saw Little Skunk, he turned away and hurried off into the forest in the opposite direction.

  Little Skunk saw how Bear had hurried to avoid her, and she felt ashamed.

  “If only I weren’t a skunk!” she exclaimed to herself. “Our only gift is the gift of stinking. No wonder the other creatures of the forest look down on us. No wonder Bear shuns me!”

  And Little Skunk felt a tear welling up in her eye, but she stamped her foot.

  “We can none of us help what we are born as!” she said. “And since I’ve been born a skunk, it’s wrong to be ashamed of it. I’m going to tell Bear what I feel for him. Why shouldn’t I?”

  And she started to run after Bear as fast as she could.

  Now Bear heard Little Skunk running after him, and he said to himself: “Skunks don’t normally run after us bears. They are usually so afraid of us that, as soon as they see us, they immediately produce their dreadful stink, that makes us bears feel ill. What’s more if we get that foul-smelling scent on our skins it’ll itch like mad, and if we get it in our eyes it can blind us. And for any creature of the forest to be blind even for a short while can be a death sentence. But the worst – the very worst – thing about skunks’ smell is that if I ever got it on my beautiful shiny fur, I could never clean it off and I would stink forever!”

  No wonder that Bear, when he found himself pursued by Little Skunk, ran headlong through the forest, and no wonder he failed to see the place where the leaves had been disturbed by the Trappers’ feet.

  Little Skunk did not see the trap spring, but she heard the jump of the metal, and she heard Bear’s howl of pain and surprise, as the jaws of the trap clamped around his hind leg. Little Skunk burst into the clearing where Bear was caught. She saw his leg covered in blood, with the great iron trap holding him down. She saw the wide-eyed fear on Bear’s face and equally she saw the look of disgust as his eye fell upon her.

  Little Skunk’s first thought was to try and get Bear free, but Bear was filled with mortal fear, and he growled and bared his teeth and tried to claw Little Skunk as she approached the trap.

  “Don’t worry, Bear! I wo
n’t release my stink on you. I’ve come to rescue you, Bear, because all this time I’ve been in love with your power and strength, the great beauty of your snout and ears, and the glorious lustre of your fur. I love you, Bear.”

  That’s what Little Skunk wanted to say, but she never got the chance, because there was suddenly the sound of men shouting and crashing through the undergrowth as the Trappers burst into the clearing to claim their prize.

  “It’s a big brown!” exclaimed one of the Trappers, and he raised his gun. There was a bang, and Little Skunk fled – but only till she was hidden in the undergrowth. Then she turned to see what had happened.

  The Trappers were standing in the clearing looking intently at Bear. Bear himself was still standing on all fours, with his hind leg caught in that dreadful trap, but he was swaying from side to side, and now suddenly he crumpled into a heap on the ground. Little Skunk watched as the men swarmed around the fallen Bear. Next moment she saw the men kick Bear’s lifeless body, and laugh as they lifted up his limp paw and let it drop. Suddenly Little Skunk was seized by a violent anger. Who did these men think they were to treat Bear like that?

  As the Trappers prised open the trap to free Bear’s leg, a wild plan entered Little Skunk’s head, and before she had even thought it through, she found herself racing back through the bushes and leaping into the clearing right into the middle of those men. The Trappers were so intent on what they were doing to Bear that they didn’t notice her for the moment. But then one of them suddenly yelled:

  “Look out! Skunk!”

  The men turned, and on seeing Little Skunk, they scrambled to get away. In their panic, two of them collided with one another and fell over in a heap, while the other two dived into the undergrowth without thinking. But they were too late! Little Skunk turned her back on them and shot her scent with deadly accuracy – hitting one of them from six feet away. Then she aimed again, and this time sent her spray twelve feet through the air and hit another man on the back as he struggled through the undergrowth. And still she hadn’t finished. With one last effort, she shot yet another spray of scent fifteen feet through the air and hit both the men who had fallen over each other.