A Buffalope's Tale

by Philip Caveney

  ‘P . . . p . . . protection?’ gasped Maximus.

  ‘Oh yes, nothing to worry about. An old folk remedy that seems to work. What he’ll do, he’ll insert a big lump of cow dung up each of your nostrils and then he’ll sew them shut. It stings a bit, but it’s over in moments and, let’s face it, it’s better than going down with the pestilence, isn’t it?’

  Early the following morning, my master came to let us out. I’d had a bit of warning that he was on his way because, even at such a distance, I’d been able to hear the shouting of Mistress Sarah, followed by the crashing of plates and pans as they were hurled around the interior of the house.

  After a short interval, I heard the sounds of my master ’s footsteps approaching the barn and then the doors swung open – and Alexander was knocked flying by Maximus as he galloped out of there at full speed.

  Alexander lay in the mud for a moment and then groaned. He lifted a hand to his head and it was quite clear that he was feeling very much the worse for wear. He stared blearily along the track, but Maximus was already a small black dot on the horizon, trailing a cloud of dust in his wake. My master got painfully back to his feet and hobbled into the barn.

  ‘What do you suppose got into him?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ I said. ‘Mind you, he was a nervy type. Didn’t like being shut up the barn, not one bit. Do you think we should go and look for him, Master?’

  Alexander glanced back towards the house, then shook his head.

  ‘Forget him,’ he said. ‘It was a stupid idea, anyway. Come on, we’d better get going.’

  Chapter 26

  Exciting News

  We settled back into our regular routine. My master would behave himself for a while, would be the very model of a sober citizen; then, something would happen to weaken his resolve; a chance encounter with an old friend, a skirmish with some brigands on the road, a particularly troublesome audience that just wouldn’t laugh in all the right places . . . The excuses varied but the results were always the same. A night spent in the tavern drinking as though his very life depended upon it. I began to realise that my master spent quite a bit of time looking for reasons to start drinking again, and that his problems went deeper than I had at first imagined.

  And then I began to notice that something about Mistress Sarah had changed. She didn’t look any different and she didn’t really behave differently, but there was some subtle thing about the way she carried herself, the way she would look away and smile when I was talking to her, that made me think that she knew something I didn’t. She had a secret and, I felt sure, it was something good.

  One day, on the road to our latest appearance, at a big archery tournament, I even asked the master about it.

  ‘Have you noticed anything different about Mistress Sarah?’ I asked him.

  ‘How do you mean?’ he muttered.

  ‘Well, I can’t quite put my hoof on it, but there’s

  definitely something going on with her. She’s been behaving a bit oddly.’

  Alexander considered this news for a moment.

  ‘I can’t say that I’ve been taking a lot of notice of her recently,’ he said. ‘I’m always so busy. What sort of thing do you mean?’

  ‘Well, she seems to be happy all the time . . . smiling . . . and I can’t help feeling that there’s something going on that she’s not telling anybody else about. I’m sure of it.’

  Alexander suddenly seemed very serious.

  ‘You . . . you don’t think .. ?’

  ‘What, Master?’

  ‘That she’s . . . seeing somebody?’

  ‘Seeing somebody?’ I echoed. I must confess I was bewildered by this question. ‘I expect she sees lots of people.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ he said. ‘You don’t think . . . well. That she could be having an affair?’

  ‘Is that like a party or something?’

  ‘No, you idiot! It means being romantic with another person.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  I thought about it for a moment.

  ‘I suppose she has every opportunity,’ I said. ‘I mean, we’re out nearly every day, aren’t we? And who could blame her if she did seek companionship elsewhere? I mean, the way you carry on . . .’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ protested Alexander.

  ‘Well, the drinking and everything . . .’

  He made a sound of exasperation.

  ‘It would be nice, Max, if, just for once, you didn’t use every little thing that happens as an opportunity to give me a lecture about my evil ways.’

  ‘Master, I was only saying . . .’

  ‘Never mind! Turn around.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me! Turn around. We’re going back to the house.’

  ‘But . . . what about the tournament?’

  ‘Never mind that. They’ll just have to wait for us, won’t they? This is something that needs to be sorted out, right now.’

  I did as I was told, but I couldn’t help feeling he was jumping to conclusions.

  ‘Master, I only said that there was something different about her. You’re the one who came up with this halfbaked theory about a romance.’

  ‘Yes, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, she’s left to her own devices all day long, she’s nothing to occupy her time and, let’s face it, she’s an attractive young woman. Any man who saw her would be interested.’

  ‘Possibly . . . but I’m sure she isn’t the sort to go and do something like that.’

  ‘She’s a woman, Max; who can ever fathom what goes on in their heads?’

  ‘Even so, I really think you need to . . .’

  ‘Just get a move on!’ he snapped.

  I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was not going to change his mind on this one.

  I covered the short distance to the homestead in record time, thinking that, if I picked up the pace a bit, we might still make it back to the tournament without too much delay. But, as we moved along the dirt track that led to the house, I was dismayed to see an unfamiliar carriage, drawn by two equines, standing at the front of the house. Alexander noticed it too.

  ‘Whose carriage is that?’ he asked me.

  ‘I’m sure I don’t know,’ I told him.

  ‘My suspicions were right,’ he growled and his voice fairly simmered with anger. ‘She’s been seeing somebody behind my back!’

  ‘Master, I’m sure she wouldn’t do that!’ I cried. ‘There’s probably a very good explanation for that carriage being here. Maybe . . . maybe it’s a workman come to make repairs.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Alexander coldly. And I heard the hiss of steel as he drew his curved sword from its sheath.

  ‘Now hold on a moment,’ I warned him. ‘Let’s not be too hasty.’

  We drew to a halt behind the carriage and, at that very instant, the front door opened and somebody stepped out.

  Alexander gave a gasp of surprise and I must confess, I was a bit shocked myself; for the man who had just emerged into the sunlight was a skinny old fellow with thinning grey hair and a long beard. He was wearing an expensive silk cloak and, in one hand, he carried a leather bag. He turned in shocked surprise as Alexander jumped down from the caravan and strode menacingly towards him, sword held ready to attack.

  ‘Who are you?’ snarled Alexander. ‘What are you doing in my home?’

  The old man’s eyes got very big and he began to back away from Alexander.

  ‘Please,’ he gasped. ‘Put down that sword!’

  ‘Not until you tell me what you are doing in my house.’

  ‘I . . . I came to visit your wife!’ gasped the old man, pointing a gnarled finger at the open door.

  ‘You admit it? As brazen as that?’

  The old man looked confused.

  ‘Of course, Sir, it was your wife who contacted me. She asked me to come . . .’

  ‘She what?’

  Alexander lunged forward and, g
rabbing the man by one shoulder, he held the razor-sharp sword against his skinny throat.

  ‘And why exactly would my young wife wish to spend time with an old rascal like you?’ he roared.

  ‘I . . . I visit many women,’ croaked the old man. ‘My skills are renowned.’

  ‘Your . . . skills? Skills at what? You old blackguard, I’ve a mind to slit you open and spill your entrails!’

  Now the old fellow was terrified.

  ‘Don’t do that, sir, I beseech you! I’d prefer to keep my entrails where they belong, if you don’t mind. I mean no harm, I simply offer a service to women like your wife; I’m only making an honest living!’

  Now my master looked really shocked.

  ‘You mean to tell me . . . they pay you?’

  ‘Yes, sir, a reasonable sum, nothing more. I do not overcharge, I can assure you. If you would like to look at my accounting book, you’ll see that I charge every woman the same fee!’

  My poor master now looked as though he had been clouted over the head with a heavy object.

  ‘Well, that’s really noble of you,’ he murmured. ‘But nevertheless, I’m afraid I am going to have to hurt you, very badly.’

  ‘Alexander!’

  The voice came from the open doorway and we all turned our heads to see Mistress Sarah standing there, an expression of horror on her face.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she cried.

  He glared at her.

  ‘I’m telling your aging boyfriend that he has made a very big mistake coming here today.’

  ‘My . . . boyfriend?’

  Mistress Sarah stared at her husband for a moment and then her expression changed, to one of amusement. She began to chuckle, softly at first, but with mounting volume, until she had to throw back her head and laugh out loud.

  ‘Oh, you think its funny, do you?’ cried Alexander. ‘You think it’s a laugh, seeing another man when your husband’s back is turned? Well, forgive me if I don’t share your amusement! We’ll see if you’re still laughing when I slit this old buzzard open!’

  ‘Alexander, you idiot! He’s not my boyfriend . . . he’s a doctor. Doctor Zacchariah. I asked him to come here to examine me.’

  Alexander released his grip on the old man and moved quickly across to his wife.

  ‘You . . . you are ill?’ he gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘No, I’m not ill. I’ve never felt better, especially after what the doctor has just told me.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ cried Alexander.

  ‘Can’t you guess?’ Mistress Sarah smiled enchant ingly. ‘It’s finally happened, Alexander. I’m going to have a baby.’

  I don’t think I’d seen my master more humbled than he was that day. He must have apologised to Doctor Zachariah about twenty times before he managed to get the old man back into his carriage and away from there. Then he and Mistress Sarah went into the house to talk, while I waited patiently outside.

  At length, Alexander and Mistress Sarah came back out, all smiles, and they kissed and hugged goodbye, before Alexander vaulted back up onto the seat and urged me to make all haste back to the tournament.

  ‘We can’t afford to miss a performance now,’ he told me. ‘There’ll soon be another mouth to feed!’

  I did as I was bid and retraced my steps across the plains with as much speed as I could muster.

  ‘I told you there must be a reasonable explanation!’ I shouted back over my shoulder.

  ‘You did and you were right!’ he shouted back. ‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am, Max. We’d just about given up all hope of ever having a child and now it’s confirmed.’

  ‘Will the baby be along any day now?’ I asked.

  ‘Not for ages. A woman carries a child for the best part of a year.’

  ‘That long?’

  I was surprised. Back in the herd, a Mother buffalope would carry a calf for only a few moons before she gave birth to it.

  ‘The time will soon go,’ he assured me. ‘Meanwhile, we must do everything we can to make sure that my child will want for nothing.’

  He was silent for a moment and then he said, ‘There are going to have to be some changes.’

  ‘What kind of changes, Master? You want me to work harder?’

  He laughed.

  ‘I didn’t mean you, Max. No, I’m talking about myself. The drinking and all that. It’s going to have to stop, once and for all.’

  ‘Yes, Master,’ I said, but I must confess I didn’t really believe that he would manage to keep his word.

  But I was wrong. From that day forward Alexander Darke was a changed man. He never so much as looked at a tavern again. Even his old cronies like The Great Sensimo couldn’t entice him to accompany them. It was as though he had seen some kind of light and had been cured of his habits, overnight.

  Meanwhile, the two of us worked as hard as we could and Alexander began to put away some money after each performance, which he kept in a wooden chest in a secret place that only he knew of.

  And, just as he had predicted, the time passed quickly. Mistress Sarah’s shape began to change, gradually at first but more and more dramatically until she was waddling around, with a great round bump where her middle used to be.

  And then my master started saying, ‘It won’t be long now’, and I could tell how excited he was at the prospect of being a father. He kept reminding me that when the time finally came, I was to race into Jerebim, where I would seek out and bring back Old Megs, the midwife, who would help to bring the new baby into the world.

  As the last days slipped by, I could feel my own excitement mounting. I sensed that this baby would be important to me for many reasons. After all, he or she would be a Darke – and I had given my life to the Darke family after their kindness towards me.

  But all that was to come. For now, there was just the joy of knowing that soon, a child would be born, and that I would be there to share the excitement.

  Chapter 27

  A New Arrival

  It was a particularly turbulent morning, I remember, the sky piled with great banks of tumbling cloud. A surprisingly brisk wind was gusting in off the plains and the high-pitched sound it made was enough to set your nerves jangling.

  It being so close to the estimated birth date, my master had stopped taking any bookings and the two of us were left to kick our heels around the place, waiting for something to happen. But, annoyingly, nothing did. Mistress Sarah waddled around the place, perfectly calm and content, and she got so fed up with my master following her around the house, looking concerned, that she sent him out to me to get him from ‘under her feet’.

  ‘Go and work on some new routines,’ she urged us. ‘I’ll come and get you if I need you.’ So the two of us retired to the barn where we tried to work on some new material.

  ‘Right, Max, let’s see what you think of this one,’ said Alexander.

  He was fond of trying out his new material on me and little wonder, given my ability to recognise a winning joke when I heard it.

  ‘A man walks into a tavern leading a luper on a length of rope. The landlord is horrified. “Take that thing out of here, it’s dangerous!” he cries. ”No it’s not,” says the man, “it’s trained.”’

  ‘Master, you cannot train a luper. Those things are quite mad, anyone can tell you that.’

  ‘Yes, well, that’s exactly what the landlord says. “You cannot train a luper, they’re quite mad!” So the man says, “Watch this!” He opens the luper ’s jaws and places one hand in between the creature’s teeth . . .’

  ‘Oh, goodness, Master, is the man insane?’

  ‘No, he’s not! He just believes that the luper is trained enough not to hurt him.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t catch me doing a stupid thing like that, even if I had a hand to put in there.’

  ‘Shush. Now, with his other hand, the man picks up a clay jug from the bar top and with one swift movement, he smashes
it over the luper ’s head.’

  ‘Oh, that’s his hand gone, then.’

  ‘No it’s not! He withdraws his hand and there’s not a scratch on it. Well, you can imagine! Amazement from everyone! Then the man looks around the crowded tavern and says, “Would anybody else like to try that?” And this fool standing at the bar says, “I’ll have a go, but please don’t hit me with a jug.”’

  Silence.

  ‘Er . . . I’m sorry?’ I said. ‘I don’t get it. Why would the man hit the fool when he’s got his hand in a luper ’s mouth?’

  ‘No, you misunderstand. The fool thought the man wanted him to put his hand in his mouth.’

  ‘But why would the man put his hand in his own mouth and then hit the fool with a jug?’

  ‘NO! The fool thought the man wanted the fool to bite his hand.’

  ‘Oh, well I suppose it’s understandable, hitting somebody with a jug when he’s biting your hand.’

  ‘But he’s not biting the hand, is he?’

  ‘Is he not? But you just said . . .’

  ‘I said that for convenience, but it’s not what I meant. When I say, “biting” the hand, I really mean not biting the hand.’

  ‘Then . . . why . . . ?’

  ‘You’re deliberately not getting it!’

  ‘I’m not deliberately not getting it. There’s nothing deliberate about it. I’m just not getting it.’

  Alexander sighed.

  ‘Let me explain,’ he said. ‘The fool thought the man wanted the fool to put his teeth around the man’s hand, without biting him, but the fool also thought that the man wanted to clout the fool with a clay jug, just as he did the luper.’

  ‘Oh . . . I see.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s not very funny, is it? Perhaps if the man hit the luper with a jug, the luper could bite off his hand and the man could say, “I told you he was ’armless!”’

  ‘That’s not funny!’ protested Alexander. ‘And anyway . . . he wouldn’t be armless, would he? He’d be handless and that’s not quite the same thing.’