by E. Nesbit
CHAPTER 6. THE CIRCUS
The ones of us who had started the Society of the Wouldbegoods began, atabout this time, to bother.
They said we had not done anything really noble--not worth speakingof, that is--for over a week, and that it was high time to beginagain--'with earnest endeavour', Daisy said. So then Oswald said--
'All right; but there ought to be an end to everything. Let's each of usthink of one really noble and unselfish act, and the others shall helpto work it out, like we did when we were Treasure Seekers. Then wheneverybody's had their go-in we'll write every single thing down in theGolden Deed book, and we'll draw two lines in red ink at the bottom,like Father does at the end of an account. And after that, if anyonewants to be good they can jolly well be good on our own, if at all.'
The ones who had made the Society did not welcome this wise idea, butDicky and Oswald were firm.
So they had to agree. When Oswald is really firm, opposingness andobstinacy have to give way.
Dora said, 'It would be a noble action to have all the school-childrenfrom the village and give them tea and games in the paddock. They wouldthink it so nice and good of us.'
But Dicky showed her that this would not be OUR good act, but Father's,because he would have to pay for the tea, and he had already stood usthe keepsakes for the soldiers, as well as having to stump up heavilyover the coal barge. And it is in vain being noble and generous whensomeone else is paying for it all the time, even if it happens to beyour father. Then three others had ideas at the same time and began toexplain what they were.
We were all in the dining-room, and perhaps we were making a bit of arow. Anyhow, Oswald for one, does not blame Albert's uncle for openinghis door and saying--
'I suppose I must not ask for complete silence. That were too much.But if you could whistle, or stamp with your feet, or shriekor howl--anything to vary the monotony of your well-sustainedconversation.'
Oswald said kindly, 'We're awfully sorry. Are you busy?'
'Busy?' said Albert's uncle. 'My heroine is now hesitating on the vergeof an act which, for good or ill, must influence her whole subsequentcareer. You wouldn't like her to decide in the middle of such a row thatshe can't hear herself think?'
We said, 'No, we wouldn't.'
Then he said, 'If any outdoor amusement should commend itself to youthis bright mid-summer day.' So we all went out.
Then Daisy whispered to Dora--they always hang together. Daisy is notnearly so white-micey as she was at first, but she still seems to fearthe deadly ordeal of public speaking. Dora said--
'Daisy's idea is a game that'll take us all day. She thinks keeping outof the way when he's making his heroine decide right would be a nobleact, and fit to write in the Golden Book; and we might as well beplaying something at the same time.'
We all said 'Yes, but what?'
There was a silent interval.
'Speak up, Daisy, my child.' Oswald said; 'fear not to lay bare theutmost thoughts of that faithful heart.'
Daisy giggled. Our own girls never giggle--they laugh right out or holdtheir tongues. Their kind brothers have taught them this. Then Daisysaid--
'If we could have a sort of play to keep us out of the way. I once reada story about an animal race. Everybody had an animal, and they had togo how they liked, and the one that got in first got the prize. Therewas a tortoise in it, and a rabbit, and a peacock, and sheep, and dogs,and a kitten.'
This proposal left us cold, as Albert's uncle says, because we knewthere could not be any prize worth bothering about. And though you maybe ever ready and willing to do anything for nothing, yet if there'sgoing to be a prize there must BE a prize and there's an end of it.
Thus the idea was not followed up. Dicky yawned and said, 'Let's go intothe barn and make a fort.'
So we did, with straw. It does not hurt straw to be messed about withlike it does hay.
The downstairs--I mean down-ladder--part of the barn was fun too,especially for Pincher. There was as good ratting there as you couldwish to see. Martha tried it, but she could not help running kindlybeside the rat, as if she was in double harness with it. This is thenoble bull-dog's gentle and affectionate nature coming out. We allenjoyed the ratting that day, but it ended, as usual, in the girlscrying because of the poor rats. Girls cannot help this; we must notbe waxy with them on account of it, they have their nature, the same asbull-dogs have, and it is this that makes them so useful in smoothingthe pillows of the sick-bed and tending wounded heroes.
However, the forts, and Pincher, and the girls crying, and having to bethumped on the back, passed the time very agreeably till dinner. Therewas roast mutton with onion sauce, and a roly-poly pudding.
Albert's uncle said we had certainly effaced ourselves effectually,which means we hadn't bothered.
So we determined to do the same during the afternoon, for he told us hisheroine was by no means out of the wood yet.
And at first it was easy. Jam roly gives you a peaceful feeling and youdo not at first care if you never play any runabout game ever any more.But after a while the torpor begins to pass away. Oswald was the firstto recover from his.
He had been lying on his front part in the orchard, but now he turnedover on his back and kicked his legs up, and said--
'I say, look here; let's do something.'
Daisy looked thoughtful. She was chewing the soft yellow parts of grass,but I could see she was still thinking about that animal race. So Iexplained to her that it would be very poor fun without a tortoise and apeacock, and she saw this, though not willingly.
It was H. O. who said--
'Doing anything with animals is prime, if they only will. Let's have acircus!'
At the word the last thought of the pudding faded from Oswald's memory,and he stretched himself, sat up, and said--
'Bully for H. O. Let's!'
The others also threw off the heavy weight of memory, and sat up andsaid 'Let's!' too.
Never, never in all our lives had we had such a gay galaxy of animals atour command. The rabbits and the guinea-pigs, and even all the bright,glass-eyed, stuffed denizens of our late-lamented jungle paled intoinsignificance before the number of live things on the farm.
(I hope you do not think that the words I use are getting too long. Iknow they are the right words. And Albert's uncle says your style isalways altered a bit by what you read. And I have been reading theVicomte de Bragelonne. Nearly all my new words come out of those.)
'The worst of a circus is,' Dora said, 'that you've got to teach theanimals things. A circus where the performing creatures hadn't learnedperforming would be a bit silly. Let's give up a week to teaching themand then have the circus.'
Some people have no idea of the value of time. And Dora is one of thosewho do not understand that when you want to do a thing you do want to,and not to do something else, and perhaps your own thing, a week later.
Oswald said the first thing was to collect the performing animals.
'Then perhaps,' he said, 'we may find that they have hidden talentshitherto unsuspected by their harsh masters.'
So Denny took a pencil and wrote a list of the animals required. This isit:
LIST OF ANIMALS REQUISITE FOR THE CIRCUS WE ARE GOING TO HAVE
1 Bull for bull-fight. 1 Horse for ditto (if possible). 1 Goat to doAlpine feats of daring. 1 Donkey to play see-saw. 2 White pigs--one tobe Learned, and the other to play with the clown. Turkeys, as many aspossible, because they can make a noise that The dogs, for any oddparts. 1 Large black pig--to be the Elephant in the procession. Calves(several) to be camels, and to stand on tubs.
Daisy ought to have been captain because it was partly her idea, but shelet Oswald be, because she is of a retiring character. Oswald said--
'The first thing is to get all the creatures together; the paddock atthe side of the orchard is the very place, because the hedge is good allround. When we've got the performers all there we'll make a programme,and then dress for our parts. It's a pity there
won't be any audiencebut the turkeys.'
We took the animals in their right order, according to Denny's list. Thebull was the first. He is black. He does not live in the cowhouse withthe other horned people; he has a house all to himself two fields away.Oswald and Alice went to fetch him. They took a halter to lead the bullby, and a whip, not to hurt the bull with, but just to make him mind.
The others were to try to get one of the horses while we were gone.
Oswald as usual was full of bright ideas.
'I daresay,' he said, 'the bull will be shy at first, and he'll have tobe goaded into the arena.'
'But goads hurt,' Alice said.
'They don't hurt the bull,' Oswald said; 'his powerful hide is toothick.'
'Then why does he attend to it,' Alice asked, 'if it doesn't hurt?'
'Properly-brought-up bulls attend because they know they ought,'Oswald said. 'I think I shall ride the bull,' the brave boy went on.'A bull-fight, where an intrepid rider appears on the bull, sharing itsjoys and sorrows. It would be something quite new.'
'You can't ride bulls,' Alice said; 'at least, not if their backs aresharp like cows.'
But Oswald thought he could. The bull lives in a house made of wood andprickly furze bushes, and he has a yard to his house. You cannot climbon the roof of his house at all comfortably.
When we got there he was half in his house and half out in his yard, andhe was swinging his tail because of the flies which bothered. It was avery hot day.
'You'll see,' Alice said, 'he won't want a goad. He'll be so glad toget out for a walk he'll drop his head in my hand like a tame fawn, andfollow me lovingly all the way.'
Oswald called to him. He said, 'Bull! Bull! Bull! Bull!' because we didnot know the animal's real name. The bull took no notice; then Oswaldpicked up a stone and threw it at the bull, not angrily, but just tomake it pay attention. But the bull did not pay a farthing's worth ofit. So then Oswald leaned over the iron gate of the bull's yard and justflicked the bull with the whiplash. And then the bull DID pay attention.He started when the lash struck him, then suddenly he faced round,uttering a roar like that of the wounded King of Beasts, and putting hishead down close to his feet he ran straight at the iron gate where wewere standing.
Alice and Oswald mechanically turned away; they did not wish to annoythe bull any more, and they ran as fast as they could across the fieldso as not to keep the others waiting.
As they ran across the field Oswald had a dream-like fancy that perhapsthe bull had rooted up the gate with one paralysing blow, and was nowtearing across the field after him and Alice, with the broken gatebalanced on its horns. We climbed the stile quickly and looked back; thebull was still on the right side of the gate.
Oswald said, 'I think we'll do without the bull. He did not seem to wantto come. We must be kind to dumb animals.'
Alice said, between laughing and crying--
'Oh, Oswald, how can you!' But we did do without the bull, and we didnot tell the others how we had hurried to get back. We just said, 'Thebull didn't seem to care about coming.'
The others had not been idle. They had got old Clover, the cart-horse,but she would do nothing but graze, so we decided not to use her in thebull-fight, but to let her be the Elephant. The Elephant's is a nicequiet part, and she was quite big enough for a young one. Then the blackpig could be Learned, and the other two could be something else. Theyhad also got the goat; he was tethered to a young tree.
The donkey was there. Denny was leading him in the halter. The dogs werethere, of course--they always are.
So now we only had to get the turkeys for the applause and the calvesand pigs.
The calves were easy to get, because they were in their own house. Therewere five. And the pigs were in their houses too. We got them out afterlong and patient toil, and persuaded them that they wanted to go intothe paddock, where the circus was to be. This is done by pretending todrive them the other way. A pig only knows two ways--the way you wanthim to go, and the other. But the turkeys knew thousands of differentways, and tried them all. They made such an awful row, we had to dropall ideas of ever hearing applause from their lips, so we came away andleft them.
'Never mind,' H. O. said, 'they'll be sorry enough afterwards, nasty,unobliging things, because now they won't see the circus. I hope theother animals will tell them about it.'
While the turkeys were engaged in baffling the rest of us, Dicky hadfound three sheep who seemed to wish to join the glad throng, so we letthem.
Then we shut the gate of the paddock, and left the dumb circusperformers to make friends with each other while we dressed.
Oswald and H. O. were to be clowns. It is quite easy with Albert'suncle's pyjamas, and flour on your hair and face, and the red they dothe brick-floors with.
Alice had very short pink and white skirts, and roses in her hair andround her dress. Her dress was the pink calico and white muslin stuffoff the dressing-table in the girls' room fastened with pins and tiedround the waist with a small bath towel. She was to be the DauntlessEquestrienne, and to give her enhancing act a barebacked daring, ridingeither a pig or a sheep, whichever we found was freshest and mostskittish. Dora was dressed for the Haute ecole, which means ariding-habit and a high hat. She took Dick's topper that he wears withhis Etons, and a skirt of Mrs Pettigrew's. Daisy, dressed the same asAlice, taking the muslin from Mrs Pettigrew's dressing-table with-outsaying anything beforehand. None of us would have advised this, andindeed we were thinking of trying to put it back, when Denny and Noel,who were wishing to look like highwaymen, with brown-paper top-bootsand slouch hats and Turkish towel cloaks, suddenly stopped dressing andgazed out of the window.
'Krikey!' said Dick, 'come on, Oswald!' and he bounded like an antelopefrom the room.
Oswald and the rest followed, casting a hasty glance through the window.Noel had got brown-paper boots too, and a Turkish towel cloak. H. O. hadbeen waiting for Dora to dress him up for the other clown. He had onlyhis shirt and knickerbockers and his braces on. He came down as hewas--as indeed we all did. And no wonder, for in the paddock, where thecircus was to be, a blood-thrilling thing had transpired. The dogs werechasing the sheep. And we had now lived long enough in the country toknow the fell nature of our dogs' improper conduct.
We all rushed into the paddock, calling to Pincher, and Martha, andLady. Pincher came almost at once. He is a well-brought-up dog--Oswaldtrained him. Martha did not seem to hear. She is awfully deaf, butshe did not matter so much, because the sheep could walk away from hereasily. She has no pace and no wind. But Lady is a deer-hound. Sheis used to pursuing that fleet and antlered pride of the forest--thestag--and she can go like billyo. She was now far away in a distantregion of the paddock, with a fat sheep just before her in full flight.I am sure if ever anybody's eyes did start out of their heads withhorror, like in narratives of adventure, ours did then.
There was a moment's pause of speechless horror. We expected to see Ladypull down her quarry, and we know what a lot of money a sheep costs, tosay nothing of its own personal feelings.
Then we started to run for all we were worth. It is hard to runswiftly as the arrow from the bow when you happen to be wearing pyjamasbelonging to a grown-up person--as I was--but even so I beat Dicky. Hesaid afterwards it was because his brown-paper boots came undone andtripped him up. Alice came in third. She held on the dressing-tablemuslin and ran jolly well. But ere we reached the fatal spot all wasvery nearly up with the sheep. We heard a plop; Lady stopped and lookedround. She must have heard us bellowing to her as we ran. Then she cametowards us, prancing with happiness, but we said 'Down!' and 'Bad dog!'and ran sternly on.
When we came to the brook which forms the northern boundary of thepaddock we saw the sheep struggling in the water. It is not very deep,and I believe the sheep could have stood up, and been well in its depth,if it had liked, but it would not try.
It was a steepish bank. Alice and I got down and stuck our legs into thewater, and then Dicky came down, and the three of us haule
d that sheepup by its shoulders till it could rest on Alice and me as we sat on thebank. It kicked all the time we were hauling. It gave one extra kickat last, that raised it up, and I tell you that sopping wet, heavy,panting, silly donkey of a sheep sat there on our laps like a pet dog;and Dicky got his shoulder under it at the back and heaved constantly tokeep it from flumping off into the water again, while the others fetchedthe shepherd.
When the shepherd came he called us every name you can think of, andthen he said--
'Good thing master didn't come along. He would ha' called you some tidynames.'
He got the sheep out, and took it and the others away. And the calvestoo. He did not seem to care about the other performing animals.
Alice, Oswald and Dick had had almost enough circus for just then, sowe sat in the sun and dried ourselves and wrote the programme of thecircus. This was it:
PROGRAMME
1. Startling leap from the lofty precipice by the performing sheep. Realwater, and real precipice. The gallant rescue. O. A. and D. Bastable.(We thought we might as well put that in though it was over and hadhappened accidentally.)
2. Graceful bare-backed equestrienne act on the trained pig, Eliza. A.Bastable. 3. Amusing clown interlude, introducing trained dog, Pincher,and the other white pig. H. O. and O. Bastable.
4. The See-Saw. Trained donkeys. (H. O. said we had only one donkey, soDicky said H. O. could be the other. When peace was restored we went onto 5.)
5. Elegant equestrian act by D. Bastable. Haute ecole, on Clover, theincomparative trained elephant from the plains of Venezuela.
6. Alpine feat of daring. The climbing of the Andes, by Billy, thewell-known acrobatic goat. (We thought we could make the Andes out ofhurdles and things, and so we could have but for what always happens.(This is the unexpected. (This is a saying Father told me--but I seeI am three deep in brackets so I will close them before I get into anymore).).).
7. The Black but Learned Pig. ('I daresay he knows something,' Alicesaid, 'if we can only find out what.' We DID find out all too soon.)
We could not think of anything else, and our things were nearly dry--allexcept Dick's brown-paper top-boots, which were mingled with thegurgling waters of the brook.
We went back to the seat of action--which was the iron trough where thesheep have their salt put--and began to dress up the creatures.
We had just tied the Union Jack we made out of Daisy's flannel petticoatand cetera, when we gave the soldiers the baccy, round the waist of theBlack and Learned Pig, when we heard screams from the back part of thehouse, and suddenly we saw that Billy, the acrobatic goat, had got loosefrom the tree we had tied him to. (He had eaten all the parts of itsbark that he could get at, but we did not notice it until next day, whenled to the spot by a grown-up.)
The gate of the paddock was open. The gate leading to the bridge thatgoes over the moat to the back door was open too. We hastily proceededin the direction of the screams, and, guided by the sound, threadedour way into the kitchen. As we went, Noel, ever fertile in melancholyideas, said he wondered whether Mrs Pettigrew was being robbed, or onlymurdered.
In the kitchen we saw that Noel was wrong as usual. It was neither. MrsPettigrew, screaming like a steam-siren and waving a broom, occupiedthe foreground. In the distance the maid was shrieking in a hoarse andmonotonous way, and trying to shut herself up inside a clothes-horse onwhich washing was being aired.
On the dresser--which he had ascended by a chair--was Billy, theacrobatic goat, doing his Alpine daring act. He had found out his Andesfor himself, and even as we gazed he turned and tossed his head in away that showed us some mysterious purpose was hidden beneath his calmexterior. The next moment he put his off-horn neatly behind the endplate of the next to the bottom row, and ran it along against the wall.The plates fell crashing on to the soup tureen and vegetable disheswhich adorned the lower range of the Andes.
Mrs Pettigrew's screams were almost drowned in the discarding crash andcrackle of the falling avalanche of crockery.
Oswald, though stricken with horror and polite regret, preserved themost dauntless coolness.
Disregarding the mop which Mrs Pettigrew kept on poking at the goat ina timid yet cross way, he sprang forward, crying out to his trustyfollowers, 'Stand by to catch him!'
But Dick had thought of the same thing, and ere Oswald could carry outhis long-cherished and general-like design, Dicky had caught the goat'slegs and tripped it up. The goat fell against another row of plates,righted itself hastily in the gloomy ruins of the soup tureen and thesauce-boats, and then fell again, this time towards Dicky. The two fellheavily on the ground together. The trusty followers had been so struckby the daring of Dicky and his lion-hearted brother, that they had notstood by to catch anything.
The goat was not hurt, but Dicky had a sprained thumb and a lump on hishead like a black marble door-knob. He had to go to bed.
I will draw a veil and asterisks over what Mrs Pettigrew said. AlsoAlbert's uncle, who was brought to the scene of ruin by her screams. Fewwords escaped our lips. There are times when it is not wise to argue;however, little what has occurred is really our fault.
When they had said what they deemed enough and we were let go, we allwent out. Then Alice said distractedly, in a voice which she vainlystrove to render firm--
'Let's give up the circus. Let's put the toys back in the boxes--no,I don't mean that--the creatures in their places--and drop the wholething. I want to go and read to Dicky.'
Oswald has a spirit that no reverses can depreciate. He hates to bebeaten. But he gave in to Alice, as the others said so too, and we wentout to collect the performing troop and sort it out into its properplaces.
Alas! we came too late. In the interest we had felt about whether MrsPettigrew was the abject victim of burglars or not, we had left bothgates open again. The old horse--I mean the trained elephant fromVenezuela--was there all right enough. The dogs we had beaten and tiedup after the first act, when the intrepid sheep bounded, as it says inthe programme. The two white pigs were there, but the donkey was gone.We heard his hoofs down the road, growing fainter and fainter, in thedirection of the 'Rose and Crown'. And just round the gatepost we sawa flash of red and white and blue and black that told us, with dumbsignification, that the pig was off in exactly the opposite direction.Why couldn't they have gone the same way? But no, one was a pig and theother was a donkey, as Denny said afterwards.
Daisy and H. O. started after the donkey; the rest of us, with oneaccord, pursued the pig--I don't know why. It trotted quietly down theroad; it looked very black against the white road, and the ends on thetop, where the Union Jack was tied, bobbed brightly as it trotted. Atfirst we thought it would be easy to catch up to it. This was an error.
When we ran faster it ran faster; when we stopped it stopped and lookedround at us, and nodded. (I daresay you won't swallow this, but you maysafely. It's as true as true, and so's all that about the goat. I giveyou my sacred word of honour.) I tell you the pig nodded as much as tosay--
'Oh, yes. You think you will, but you won't!' and then as soon as wemoved again off it went. That pig led us on and on, o'er miles and milesof strange country. One thing, it did keep to the roads. When we metpeople, which wasn't often, we called out to them to help us, but theyonly waved their arms and roared with laughter. One chap on a bicyclealmost tumbled off his machine, and then he got off it and propped itagainst a gate and sat down in the hedge to laugh properly. You rememberAlice was still dressed up as the gay equestrienne in the dressing-tablepink and white, with rosy garlands, now very droopy, and she had nostockings on, only white sand-shoes, because she thought they would beeasier than boots for balancing on the pig in the graceful bare-backedact.
Oswald was attired in red paint and flour and pyjamas, for a clown.It is really IMPOSSIBLE to run speedfully in another man's pyjamas,so Oswald had taken them off, and wore his own brown knickerbockersbelonging to his Norfolks. He had tied the pyjamas round his neck, tocarry them easily. He was a
fraid to leave them in a ditch, as Alicesuggested, because he did not know the roads, and for aught he reckedthey might have been infested with footpads. If it had been his ownpyjamas it would have been different. (I'm going to ask for pyjamas nextwinter, they are so useful in many ways.)
Noel was a highwayman in brown-paper gaiters and bath towels and acocked hat of newspaper. I don't know how he kept it on. And the pig wasencircled by the dauntless banner of our country. All the same, I thinkif I had seen a band of youthful travellers in bitter distress about apig I should have tried to lend a helping hand and not sat roaring inthe hedge, no matter how the travellers and the pig might have beendressed.
It was hotter than anyone would believe who has never had occasion tohunt the pig when dressed for quite another part. The flour got out ofOswald's hair into his eyes and his mouth. His brow was wet with whatthe village blacksmith's was wet with, and not his fair brow alone. Itran down his face and washed the red off in streaks, and when herubbed his eyes he only made it worse. Alice had to run holding theequestrienne skirts on with both hands, and I think the brown-paperboots bothered Noel from the first. Dora had her skirt over her arm andcarried the topper in her hand. It was no use to tell ourselves it was awild boar hunt--we were long past that.
At last we met a man who took pity on us. He was a kind-hearted man. Ithink, perhaps, he had a pig of his own--or, perhaps, children. Honourto his name!
He stood in the middle of the road and waved his arms. The pigright-wheeled through a gate into a private garden and cantered up thedrive. We followed. What else were we to do, I should like to know?
The Learned Black Pig seemed to know its way. It turned first to theright and then to the left, and emerged on a lawn.
'Now, all together!' cried Oswald, mustering his failing voice to givethe word of command. 'Surround him!--cut off his retreat!'
We almost surrounded him. He edged off towards the house.
'Now we've got him!' cried the crafty Oswald, as the pig got on to a bedof yellow pansies close against the red house wall.
All would even then have been well, but Denny, at the last, shrank frommeeting the pig face to face in a manly way. He let the pig pass him,and the next moment, with a squeak that said 'There now!' as plain aswords, the pig bolted into a French window. The pursuers halted not.This was no time for trivial ceremony. In another moment the pig was acaptive. Alice and Oswald had their arms round him under the ruins of atable that had had teacups on it, and around the hunters and their preystood the startled members of a parish society for making clothes forthe poor heathen, that that pig had led us into the very midst of. Theywere reading a missionary report or something when we ran our quarryto earth under their table. Even as he crossed the threshold I heardsomething about 'black brothers being already white to the harvest'. Allthe ladies had been sewing flannel things for the poor blacks while thecurate read aloud to them. You think they screamed when they saw the Pigand Us? You are right.
On the whole, I cannot say that the missionary people behaved badly.Oswald explained that it was entirely the pig's doing, and asked pardonquite properly for any alarm the ladies had felt; and Alice said howsorry we were but really it was NOT our fault this time. The curatelooked a bit nasty, but the presence of ladies made him keep his hotblood to himself.
When we had explained, we said, 'Might we go?' The curate said, 'Thesooner the better.' But the Lady of the House asked for our names andaddresses, and said she should write to our Father. (She did, and weheard of it too.) They did not do anything to us, as Oswald at one timebelieved to be the curate's idea. They let us go.
And we went, after we had asked for a piece of rope to lead the pig by.
'In case it should come back into your nice room,' Alice said. 'And thatwould be such a pity, wouldn't it?'
A little girl in a starched pinafore was sent for the rope. And as soonas the pig had agreed to let us tie it round his neck we came away. Thescene in the drawing-room had not been long. The pig went slowly,
'Like the meandering brook,'
Denny said. Just by the gate the shrubs rustled and opened, and thelittle girl came out. Her pinafore was full of cake.
'Here,' she said. 'You must be hungry if you've come all that way.
I think they might have given you some tea after all the trouble you'vehad.' We took the cake with correct thanks.
'I wish I could play at circuses,' she said. 'Tell me about it.'
We told her while we ate the cake; and when we had done she said perhapsit was better to hear about than do, especially the goat's part andDicky's.
'But I do wish auntie had given you tea,' she said.
We told her not to be too hard on her aunt, because you have to makeallowances for grown-up people. When we parted she said she would neverforget us, and Oswald gave her his pocket button-hook and corkscrewcombined for a keepsake.
Dicky's act with the goat (which is true, and no kid) was the only thingout of that day that was put in the Golden Deed book, and he put that inhimself while we were hunting the pig.
Alice and me capturing the pig was never put in. We would scorn to writeour own good actions, but I suppose Dicky was dull with us all away; andyou must pity the dull, and not blame them.
I will not seek to unfold to you how we got the pig home, or how thedonkey was caught (that was poor sport compared to the pig). Nor will Itell you a word of all that was said and done to the intrepid huntersof the Black and Learned. I have told you all the interesting part. Seeknot to know the rest. It is better buried in obliquity.
CHAPTER 7. BEING BEAVERS; OR, THE YOUNG EXPLORERS (ARCTIC OR OTHERWISE)
You read in books about the pleasures of London, and about how peoplewho live in the country long for the gay whirl of fashion in townbecause the country is so dull. I do not agree with this at all. InLondon, or at any rate Lewisham, nothing happens unless you make ithappen; or if it happens it doesn't happen to you, and you don't knowthe people it does happen to. But in the country the most interestingevents occur quite freely, and they seem to happen to you as much as toanyone else. Very often quite without your doing anything to help.
The natural and right ways of earning your living in the country aremuch jollier than town ones, too; sowing and reaping, and doing thingswith animals, are much better sport than fishmongering or bakering oroil-shopping, and those sort of things, except, of course, a plumber'sand gasfitter's, and he is the same in town or country--most interestingand like an engineer.
I remember what a nice man it was that came to cut the gas off onceat our old house in Lewisham, when my father's business was feelingso poorly. He was a true gentleman, and gave Oswald and Dicky overtwo yards and a quarter of good lead piping, and a brass tap that onlywanted a washer, and a whole handful of screws to do what we liked with.We screwed the back door up with the screws, I remember, one night whenEliza was out without leave. There was an awful row. We did not meanto get her into trouble. We only thought it would be amusing for her tofind the door screwed up when she came down to take in the milk in themorning. But I must not say any more about the Lewisham house. It isonly the pleasures of memory, and nothing to do with being beavers, orany sort of exploring.
I think Dora and Daisy are the kind of girls who will grow up very good,and perhaps marry missionaries. I am glad Oswald's destiny looks atpresent as if it might be different.
We made two expeditions to discover the source of the Nile (or the NorthPole), and owing to their habit of sticking together and doing dull andpraiseable things, like sewing, and helping with the cooking, and takinginvalid delicacies to the poor and indignant, Daisy and Dora were whollyout of it both times, though Dora's foot was now quite well enough tohave gone to the North Pole or the Equator either. They said they didnot mind the first time, because they like to keep themselves clean; itis another of their queer ways. And they said they had had a better timethan us. (It was only a clergyman and his wife who called, and hot cakesfor tea.) The second time they said they were lucky no
t to have been init. And perhaps they were right. But let me to my narrating. I hope youwill like it. I am going to try to write it a different way, like thebooks they give you for a prize at a girls' school--I mean a 'youngladies' school', of course--not a high school. High schools are notnearly so silly as some other kinds. Here goes:
'"Ah, me!" sighed a slender maiden of twelve summers, removing herelegant hat and passing her tapery fingers lightly through her fairtresses, "how sad it is--is it not?--to see able-bodied youths and youngladies wasting the precious summer hours in idleness and luxury."
'The maiden frowned reproachingly, but yet with earnest gentleness, atthe group of youths and maidens who sat beneath an umbragipeaous beechtree and ate black currants.
'"Dear brothers and sisters," the blushing girl went on, "could we not,even now, at the eleventh hour, turn to account these wasted lives ofours, and seek some occupation at once improving and agreeable?"
'"I do not quite follow your meaning, dear sister," replied thecleverest of her brothers, on whose brow--'
It's no use. I can't write like these books. I wonder how the books'authors can keep it up.
What really happened was that we were all eating black currants in theorchard, out of a cabbage leaf, and Alice said--
'I say, look here, let's do something. It's simply silly to waste a daylike this. It's just on eleven. Come on!'
And Oswald said, 'Where to?'
This was the beginning of it.
The moat that is all round our house is fed by streams. One of them isa sort of open overflow pipe from a good-sized stream that flows at theother side of the orchard.
It was this stream that Alice meant when she said--
'Why not go and discover the source of the Nile?'
Of course Oswald knows quite well that the source of the real liveEgyptian Nile is no longer buried in that mysteriousness where it lurkedundisturbed for such a long time. But he was not going to say so. It isa great thing to know when not to say things.
'Why not have it an Arctic expedition?' said Dicky; 'then we could takean ice-axe, and live on blubber and things. Besides, it sounds cooler.'
'Vote! vote!' cried Oswald. So we did. Oswald, Alice, Noel, and Dennyvoted for the river of the ibis and the crocodile. Dicky, H. O., and theother girls for the region of perennial winter and rich blubber.
So Alice said, 'We can decide as we go. Let's start anyway.'
The question of supplies had now to be gone into. Everybody wanted totake something different, and nobody thought the other people's thingswould be the slightest use. It is sometimes thus even with grown-upexpeditions. So then Oswald, who is equal to the hardest emergency thatever emerged yet, said--
'Let's each get what we like. The secret storehouse can be the shed inthe corner of the stableyard where we got the door for the raft. Thenthe captain can decide who's to take what.'
This was done. You may think it but the work of a moment to fit out anexpedition, but this is not so, especially when you know not whetheryour exploring party is speeding to Central Africa or merely to theworld of icebergs and the Polar bear.
Dicky wished to take the wood-axe, the coal hammer, a blanket, and amackintosh.
H. O. brought a large faggot in case we had to light fires, and a pairof old skates he had happened to notice in the box-room, in case theexpedition turned out icy.
Noel had nicked a dozen boxes of matches, a spade, and a trowel, and hadalso obtained--I know not by what means--a jar of pickled onions.
Denny had a walking-stick--we can't break him of walking with it--a bookto read in case he got tired of being a discoverer, a butterfly net anda box with a cork in it, a tennis ball, if we happened to want to playrounders in the pauses of exploring, two towels and an umbrella in theevent of camping or if the river got big enough to bathe in or to befallen into.
Alice had a comforter for Noel in case we got late, a pair of scissorsand needle and cotton, two whole candles in case of caves.
And she had thoughtfully brought the tablecloth off the small table inthe dining-room, so that we could make all the things up into one bundleand take it in turns to carry it.
Oswald had fastened his master mind entirely on grub. Nor had the othersneglected this.
All the stores for the expedition were put down on the tablecloth andthe corners tied up. Then it was more than even Oswald's muscley armscould raise from the ground, so we decided not to take it, but only thebest-selected grub. The rest we hid in the straw loft, for there aremany ups and downs in life, and grub is grub at any time, and so arestores of all kinds. The pickled onions we had to leave, but not forever.
Then Dora and Daisy came along with their arms round each other's necksas usual, like a picture on a grocer's almanac, and said they weren'tcoming.
It was, as I have said, a blazing hot day, and there were differences ofopinion among the explorers about what eatables we ought to have taken,and H. O. had lost one of his garters and wouldn't let Alice tie it upwith her handkerchief, which the gentle sister was quite willing to do.So it was a rather gloomy expedition that set off that bright sunny dayto seek the source of the river where Cleopatra sailed in Shakespeare(or the frozen plains Mr Nansen wrote that big book about).
But the balmy calm of peaceful Nature soon made the others lesscross--Oswald had not been cross exactly but only disinclined to doanything the others wanted--and by the time we had followed the streama little way, and had seen a water-rat and shied a stone or two at him,harmony was restored. We did not hit the rat.
You will understand that we were not the sort of people to have lived solong near a stream without plumbing its depths. Indeed it was the samestream the sheep took its daring jump into the day we had the circus.And of course we had often paddled in it--in the shallower parts. Butnow our hearts were set on exploring. At least they ought to havebeen, but when we got to the place where the stream goes under a woodensheep-bridge, Dicky cried, 'A camp! a camp!' and we were all glad to sitdown at once. Not at all like real explorers, who know no rest, day ornight, till they have got there (whether it's the North Pole, or thecentral point of the part marked 'Desert of Sahara' on old-fashionedmaps).
The food supplies obtained by various members were good and plentyof it. Cake, hard eggs, sausage-rolls, currants, lemon cheese-cakes,raisins, and cold apple dumplings. It was all very decent, but Oswaldcould not help feeling that the source of the Nile (or North Pole) was along way off, and perhaps nothing much when you got there.
So he was not wholly displeased when Denny said, as he lay kicking intothe bank when the things to eat were all gone--
'I believe this is clay: did you ever make huge platters and bowls outof clay and dry them in the sun? Some people did in a book called FoulPlay, and I believe they baked turtles, or oysters, or something, at thesame time.'
He took up a bit of clay and began to mess it about, like you do puttywhen you get hold of a bit. And at once the heavy gloom that had hungover the explorers became expelled, and we all got under the shadow ofthe bridge and messed about with clay.
'It will be jolly!' Alice said, 'and we can give the huge platters topoor cottagers who are short of the usual sorts of crockery. That wouldreally be a very golden deed.'
It is harder than you would think when you read about it, to make hugeplatters with clay. It flops about as soon as you get it any size,unless you keep it much too thick, and then when you turn up the edgesthey crack. Yet we did not mind the trouble. And we had all got ourshoes and stockings off. It is impossible to go on being cross when yourfeet are in cold water; and there is something in the smooth messinessof clay, and not minding how dirty you get, that would soothe thesavagest breast that ever beat.
After a bit, though, we gave up the idea of the huge platter and triedlittle things. We made some platters--they were like flower-pot saucers;and Alice made a bowl by doubling up her fists and getting Noel to slabthe clay on outside. Then they smoothed the thing inside and out withwet fingers, and it was a bowl--at least t
hey said it was. When we'dmade a lot of things we set them in the sun to dry, and then it seemeda pity not to do the thing thoroughly. So we made a bonfire, and when ithad burnt down we put our pots on the soft, white, hot ashes among thelittle red sparks, and kicked the ashes over them and heaped more fuelover the top. It was a fine fire.
Then tea-time seemed as if it ought to be near, and we decided to comeback next day and get our pots.
As we went home across the fields Dicky looked back and said--
'The bonfire's going pretty strong.'
We looked. It was. Great flames were rising to heaven against theevening sky. And we had left it,a smouldering flat heap.
'The clay must have caught alight,' H. O. said. 'Perhaps it's the kindthat burns. I know I've heard of fireclay. And there's another sort youcan eat.'
'Oh, shut up!' Dicky said with anxious scorn.
With one accord we turned back. We all felt THE feeling--the one thatmeans something fatal being up and it being your fault.
'Perhaps, Alice said, 'a beautiful young lady in a muslin dress waspassing by, and a spark flew on to her, and now she is rolling in agonyenveloped in flames.'
We could not see the fire now, because of the corner of the wood, but wehoped Alice was mistaken.
But when we got in sight of the scene of our pottering industry we sawit was as bad nearly as Alice's wild dream. For the wooden fence leadingup to the bridge had caught fire, and it was burning like billy oh.
Oswald started to run; so did the others. As he ran he said to himself,'This is no time to think about your clothes. Oswald, be bold!'
And he was.
Arrived at the site of the conflagration, he saw that caps or straw hatsfull of water, however quickly and perseveringly given, would never putthe bridge out, and his eventful past life made him know exactly thesort of wigging you get for an accident like this.
So he said, 'Dicky, soak your jacket and mine in the stream and chuckthem along. Alice, stand clear, or your silly girl's clothes'll catch assure as fate.'
Dicky and Oswald tore off their jackets, so did Denny, but we would notlet him and H. O. wet theirs. Then the brave Oswald advanced warily tothe end of the burning rails and put his wet jacket over the end bit,like a linseed poultice on the throat of a suffering invalid who hasgot bronchitis. The burning wood hissed and smouldered, and Oswald fellback, almost choked with the smoke. But at once he caught up the otherwet jacket and put it on another place, and of course it did the trickas he had known it would do. But it was a long job, and the smoke in hiseyes made the young hero obliged to let Dicky and Denny take a turnas they had bothered to do from the first. At last all was safe; thedevouring element was conquered. We covered up the beastly bonfire withclay to keep it from getting into mischief again, and then Alice said--
'Now we must go and tell.'
'Of course,' Oswald said shortly. He had meant to tell all the time.
So we went to the farmer who has the Moat House Farm, and we went atonce, because if you have any news like that to tell it only makes itworse if you wait about. When we had told him he said--
'You little ---.' I shall not say what he said besides that, becauseI am sure he must have been sorry for it next Sunday when he went tochurch, if not before.
We did not take any notice of what he said, but just kept on saying howsorry we were; and he did not take our apology like a man, but onlysaid he daresayed, just like a woman does. Then he went to look at hisbridge, and we went in to our tea. The jackets were never quite the sameagain.
Really great explorers would never be discouraged by the daresaying ofa farmer, still less by his calling them names he ought not to. Albert'suncle was away so we got no double slating; and next day we startedagain to discover the source of the river of cataracts (or the region ofmountain-like icebergs).
We set out, heavily provisioned with a large cake Daisy and Dora hadmade themselves, and six bottles of ginger-beer. I think real explorersmost likely have their ginger-beer in something lighter to carry thanstone bottles. Perhaps they have it by the cask, which would comecheaper; and you could make the girls carry it on their back, like inpictures of the daughters of regiments.
We passed the scene of the devouring conflagration, and the thoughtof the fire made us so thirsty we decided to drink the ginger-beer andleave the bottles in a place of concealment. Then we went on, determinedto reach our destination, Tropic or Polar, that day.
Denny and H. O. wanted to stop and try to make a fashionablewatering-place at that part where the stream spreads out like asmall-sized sea, but Noel said, 'No.' We did not like fashionableness.
'YOU ought to, at any rate,' Denny said. 'A Mr Collins wrote an Ode tothe Fashions, and he was a great poet.'
'The poet Milton wrote a long book about Satan,' Noel said, 'but I'm notbound to like HIM.' I think it was smart of Noel.
'People aren't obliged to like everything they write about even, letalone read,' Alice said. 'Look at "Ruin seize thee, ruthless king!"and all the pieces of poetry about war, and tyrants, and slaughteredsaints--and the one you made yourself about the black beetle, Noel.'
By this time we had got by the pondy place and the danger of delay waspast; but the others went on talking about poetry for quite a field anda half, as we walked along by the banks of the stream. The stream wasbroad and shallow at this part, and you could see the stones andgravel at the bottom, and millions of baby fishes, and a sort ofskating-spiders walking about on the top of the water. Denny said thewater must be ice for them to be able to walk on it, and this showed wewere getting near the North Pole. But Oswald had seen a kingfisher bythe wood, and he said it was an ibis, so this was even.
When Oswald had had as much poetry as he could bear he said, 'Let's bebeavers and make a dam.' And everybody was so hot they agreed joyously,and soon our clothes were tucked up as far as they could go and our legslooked green through the water, though they were pink out of it.
Making a dam is jolly good fun, though laborious, as books about beaverstake care to let you know.
Dicky said it must be Canada if we were beavers, and so it was on theway to the Polar system, but Oswald pointed to his heated brow, andDicky owned it was warm for Polar regions. He had brought the ice-axe(it is called the wood chopper sometimes), and Oswald, ever ready andable to command, set him and Denny to cut turfs from the bank while weheaped stones across the stream. It was clayey here, or of course dammaking would have been vain, even for the best-trained beaver.
When we had made a ridge of stones we laid turfs against them--nearlyacross the stream, leaving about two feet for the water to gothrough--then more stones, and then lumps of clay stamped down as hardas we could. The industrious beavers spent hours over it, with only oneeasy to eat cake in. And at last the dam rose to the level of the bank.Then the beavers collected a great heap of clay, and four of them liftedit and dumped it down in the opening where the water was running. It didsplash a little, but a true-hearted beaver knows better than to mind abit of a wetting, as Oswald told Alice at the time. Then with more claythe work was completed. We must have used tons of clay; there was quitea big long hole in the bank above the dam where we had taken it out.
When our beaver task was performed we went on, and Dicky was so hot hehad to take his jacket off and shut up about icebergs.
I cannot tell you about all the windings of the stream; it went throughfields and woods and meadows, and at last the banks got steeper andhigher, and the trees overhead darkly arched their mysterious branches,and we felt like the princes in a fairy tale who go out to seek theirfortunes.
And then we saw a thing that was well worth coming all that way for; thestream suddenly disappeared under a dark stone archway, and however muchyou stood in the water and stuck your head down between your knees youcould not see any light at the other end.
The stream was much smaller than where we had been beavers.
Gentle reader, you will guess in a moment who it was that said--
'Alice, you've got
a candle. Let's explore.' This gallant proposal metbut a cold response. The others said they didn't care much about it, andwhat about tea?
I often think the way people try to hide their cowardliness behind theirteas is simply beastly.
Oswald took no notice. He just said, with that dignified manner, not atall like sulking, which he knows so well how to put on--
'All right. I'M going. If you funk it you'd better cut along home andask your nurses to put you to bed.' So then, of course, they agreedto go. Oswald went first with the candle. It was not comfortable; thearchitect of that dark subterranean passage had not imagined anyonewould ever be brave enough to lead a band of beavers into its inkyrecesses, or he would have built it high enough to stand upright in. Asit was, we were bent almost at a right angle, and this is very awkwardif for long.
But the leader pressed dauntlessly on, and paid no attention to thegroans of his faithful followers, nor to what they said about theirbacks.
It really was a very long tunnel, though, and even Oswald was not sorryto say, 'I see daylight.' The followers cheered as well as they could asthey splashed after him. The floor was stone as well as the roof, so itwas easy to walk on. I think the followers would have turned back if ithad been sharp stones or gravel.
And now the spot of daylight at the end of the tunnel grew larger andlarger, and presently the intrepid leader found himself blinking in thefull sun, and the candle he carried looked simply silly. He emerged,and the others too, and they stretched their backs and the word 'krikey'fell from more than one lip. It had indeed been a cramping adventure.Bushes grew close to the mouth of the tunnel, so we could not see muchlandscape, and when we had stretched our backs we went on upstream andnobody said they'd had jolly well enough of it, though in more than oneyoung heart this was thought.
It was jolly to be in the sunshine again. I never knew before how coldit was underground. The stream was getting smaller and smaller.
Dicky said, 'This can't be the way. I expect there was a turning tothe North Pole inside the tunnel, only we missed it. It was cold enoughthere.'
But here a twist in the stream brought us out from the bushes, andOswald said--
'Here is strange, wild, tropical vegetation in the richest profusion.Such blossoms as these never opened in a frigid what's-its-name.'
It was indeed true. We had come out into a sort of marshy, swampy placelike I think, a jungle is, that the stream ran through, and it wassimply crammed with queer plants, and flowers we never saw before orsince. And the stream was quite thin. It was torridly hot, and softishto walk on. There were rushes and reeds and small willows, and it wasall tangled over with different sorts of grasses--and pools here andthere. We saw no wild beasts, but there were more different kinds ofwild flies and beetles than you could believe anybody could bear, anddragon-flies and gnats. The girls picked a lot of flowers. I know thenames of some of them, but I will not tell you them because this isnot meant to be instructing. So I will only name meadow-sweet, yarrow,loose-strife, lady's bed-straw and willow herb--both the larger and thelesser.
Everyone now wished to go home. It was much hotter there than in naturalfields. It made you want to tear all your clothes off and play atsavages, instead of keeping respectable in your boots.
But we had to bear the boots because it was so brambly.
It was Oswald who showed the others how flat it would be to go home thesame way we came; and he pointed out the telegraph wires in the distanceand said--
'There must be a road there, let's make for it,' which was quite asimple and ordinary thing to say, and he does not ask for any credit forit. So we sloshed along, scratching our legs with the brambles, and thewater squelched in our boots, and Alice's blue muslin frock was torn allover in those crisscross tears which are considered so hard to darn.
We did not follow the stream any more. It was only a trickle now, so weknew we had tracked it to its source. And we got hotter and hotter andhotter, and the dews of agony stood in beads on our brows and rolleddown our noses and off our chins. And the flies buzzed, and the gnatsstung, and Oswald bravely sought to keep up Dicky's courage, when hetripped on a snag and came down on a bramble bush, by saying--
'You see it IS the source of the Nile we've discovered. What price NorthPoles now?'
Alice said, 'Ah, but think of ices! I expect Oswald wishes it HAD beenthe Pole, anyway.'
Oswald is naturally the leader, especially when following up what ishis own idea, but he knows that leaders have other duties besides justleading. One is to assist weak or wounded members of the expedition,whether Polar or Equatorish.
So the others had got a bit ahead through Oswald lending the totteringDenny a hand over the rough places. Denny's feet hurt him, because whenhe was a beaver his stockings had dropped out of his pocket, and bootswithout stockings are not a bed of luxuriousness. And he is oftenunlucky with his feet.
Presently we came to a pond, and Denny said--
'Let's paddle.'
Oswald likes Denny to have ideas; he knows it is healthy for the boy,and generally he backs him up, but just now it was getting late and theothers were ahead, so he said--
'Oh, rot! come on.'
Generally the Dentist would have; but even worms will turn if they arehot enough, and if their feet are hurting them. 'I don't care, I shall!'he said.
Oswald overlooked the mutiny and did not say who was leader. He justsaid--
'Well don't be all day about it,' for he is a kind-hearted boy and canmake allowances. So Denny took off his boots and went into the pool.'Oh, it's ripping!' he said. 'You ought to come in.'
'It looks beastly muddy,' said his tolerating leader.
'It is a bit,' Denny said, 'but the mud's just as cool as the water, andso soft, it squeezes between your toes quite different to boots.'
And so he splashed about, and kept asking Oswald to come along in.
But some unseen influence prevented Oswald doing this; or it may havebeen because both his bootlaces were in hard knots.
Oswald had cause to bless the unseen influence, or the bootlaces, orwhatever it was.
Denny had got to the middle of the pool, and he was splashing about,and getting his clothes very wet indeed, and altogether you would havethought his was a most envious and happy state. But alas! the brightestcloud had a waterproof lining. He was just saying--
'You are a silly, Oswald. You'd much better--' when he gave ablood-piercing scream, and began to kick about.
'What's up?' cried the ready Oswald; he feared the worst from the wayDenny screamed, but he knew it could not be an old meat tin in thisquiet and jungular spot, like it was in the moat when the shark bitDora.
'I don't know, it's biting me. Oh, it's biting me all over my legs! Oh,what shall I do? Oh, it does hurt! Oh! oh! oh!' remarked Denny, amonghis screams, and he splashed towards the bank. Oswald went into thewater and caught hold of him and helped him out. It is true that Oswaldhad his boots on, but I trust he would not have funked the unknownterrors of the deep, even without his boots, I am almost sure he wouldnot have.
When Denny had scrambled and been hauled ashore, we saw with horror andamaze that his legs were stuck all over with large black, slug-lookingthings. Denny turned green in the face--and even Oswald felt a bitqueer, for he knew in a moment what the black dreadfulnesses were. Hehad read about them in a book called Magnet Stories, where there was agirl called Theodosia, and she could play brilliant trebles on the pianoin duets, but the other girl knew all about leeches which is much moreuseful and golden deedy. Oswald tried to pull the leeches off, but theywouldn't, and Denny howled so he had to stop trying. He remembered fromthe Magnet Stories how to make the leeches begin biting--the girl did itwith cream--but he could not remember how to stop them, and they had notwanted any showing how to begin.
'Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do? Oh, it does hurt! Oh, oh!' Dennyobserved, and Oswald said--
'Be a man! Buck up! If you won't let me take them off you'll just haveto walk home in them.'
At this thought the unfortunate youth's tears fell fast. But Oswald gavehim an arm, and carried his boots for him, and he consented to buckup, and the two struggled on towards the others, who were coming back,attracted by Denny's yells. He did not stop howling for a moment, exceptto breathe. No one ought to blame him till they have had eleven leecheson their right leg and six on their left, making seventeen in all, asDicky said, at once.
It was lucky he did yell, as it turned out, because a man on theroad--where the telegraph wires were--was interested by his howls, andcame across the marsh to us as hard as he could. When he saw Denny'slegs he said--
'Blest if I didn't think so,' and he picked Denny up and carried himunder one arm, where Denny went on saying 'Oh!' and 'It does hurt' ashard as ever.
Our rescuer, who proved to be a fine big young man in the bloom ofyouth, and a farm-labourer by trade, in corduroys, carried the wretchedsufferer to the cottage where he lived with his aged mother; and thenOswald found that what he had forgotten about the leeches was SALT. Theyoung man in the bloom of youth's mother put salt on the leeches, andthey squirmed off, and fell with sickening, slug-like flops on the brickfloor.
Then the young man in corduroys and the bloom, etc., carried Denny homeon his back, after his legs had been bandaged up, so that he looked like'wounded warriors returning'.
It was not far by the road, though such a long distance by the way theyoung explorers had come.
He was a good young man, and though, of course, acts of goodness aretheir own reward, still I was glad he had the two half-crowns Albert'suncle gave him, as well as his own good act. But I am not sure Aliceought to have put him in the Golden Deed book which was supposed to bereserved for Us.
Perhaps you will think this was the end of the source of the Nile (orNorth Pole). If you do, it only shows how mistaken the gentlest readermay be.
The wounded explorer was lying with his wounds and bandages on the sofa,and we were all having our tea, with raspberries and white currants,which we richly needed after our torrid adventures, when Mrs Pettigrew,the housekeeper, put her head in at the door and said--
'Please could I speak to you half a moment, sir?' to Albert's uncle.And her voice was the kind that makes you look at each other when thegrown-up has gone out, and you are silent, with your bread-and-butterhalfway to the next bite, or your teacup in mid flight to your lips.
It was as we suppose. Albert's uncle did not come back for a long while.We did not keep the bread-and-butter on the wing all that time, ofcourse, and we thought we might as well finish the raspberries and whitecurrants. We kept some for Albert's uncle, of course, and they were thebest ones too but when he came back he did not notice our thoughtfulunselfishness.
He came in, and his face wore the look that means bed, and very likelyno supper.
He spoke, and it was the calmness of white-hot iron, which is somethinglike the calmness of despair. He said--
'You have done it again. What on earth possessed you to make a dam?'
'We were being beavers,' said H. O., in proud tones. He did not see aswe did where Albert's uncle's tone pointed to.
'No doubt,' said Albert's uncle, rubbing his hands through his hair. 'Nodoubt! no doubt! Well, my beavers, you may go and build dams with yourbolsters. Your dam stopped the stream; the clay you took for it lefta channel through which it has run down and ruined about seven pounds'worth of freshly-reaped barley. Luckily the farmer found it out in timeor you might have spoiled seventy pounds' worth. And you burned a bridgeyesterday.'
We said we were sorry. There was nothing else to say, only Alice added,'We didn't MEAN to be naughty.'
'Of course not,' said Albert's uncle, 'you never do. Oh, yes, I'll kissyou--but it's bed and it's two hundred lines to-morrow, and the lineis--"Beware of Being Beavers and Burning Bridges. Dread Dams." It willbe a capital exercise in capital B's and D's.'
We knew by that that, though annoyed, he was not furious; we went tobed.
I got jolly sick of capital B's and D's before sunset on the morrow.That night, just as the others were falling asleep, Oswald said--
'I say.'
'Well,' retorted his brother.
'There is one thing about it,' Oswald went on, 'it does show it was arattling good dam anyhow.'
And filled with this agreeable thought, the weary beavers (or explorers,Polar or otherwise) fell asleep.