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Glyn Severn's Schooldays, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 6. Glyn And Singh To The Rescue

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_ CHAPTER SIX. GLYN AND SINGH TO THE RESCUE

As the party from the school drew nearer they could hear the occasional crack of a whip and a loud order given in a rather highly pitched tone to the beast, bidding him come out.

Then followed the snapping of twigs and a peculiarly dull grumbling sound as if the elephant were muttering his objections to the orders of his master, the bald-headed man, who still held his hat in one hand, his yellow handkerchief in the other, and dabbed the big white billiard-ball-like expanse as if he felt that it was very warm work.

Then there was a _crunch, crunch, crunch_, as if pippins were being reduced to pulp, and more twigs were heard to snap.

"Let him hear the whip again, Jem," shouted Mr Ramball.

"Oh, he won't come for that, sir," growled the man addressed; but he made the long cart-whip he carried crack loudly three times in obedience to the order; and as the fresh party drew as near to the orchard as they cared to go, after all had given a furtive glance round for a way to escape, the low grumbling muttering grew louder; while as the animal moved right into sight so did those who were watching him, and Slegge and his companions saw Glyn and Singh approach.

There was another movement on the part of the elephant, whose towering form came through the thickly growing orchard trees to one whose burden was of a deep rich-red, and here it stood bowing its head up and down, and slowly shaking it from side to side, while the trunk swung and turned and turned and swung here and there, till its owner had selected the fruit most pleasing to its little pig-like eye, when with serpent-like motion it rose in the air, and the end curled round the selected fruit, which was lowered and tucked out of sight on the instant.

"Now, look here, my lads," cried the proprietor of the menagerie to his men, "I can't have you all standing here gaping like a set of idiots as if you had never seen the brute before. Go in round behind him with your whips and drive him out."

There was a murmur of grumbles from the men, that seemed to be echoed by the elephant, which went on swinging its head up and down as if it were balanced on a spring. But no one stirred.

"Do you hear me?" cried the proprietor, his highly pitched voice growing quite shrill. "Here, I shall have no end of damages to pay for what he's doing. They'll be putting it in the lawyers' hands, and they'll be charging me a shilling for every apple he eats.--Eh! what's that? Not safe?"

"No; he's got one of his nasty fits o' temper on," said the driver of the great van which had come to grief.

"Tchah! Nonsense! You are a coward, Jem."

"Mebbe I am," grumbled the man; "but, coward or no, he knocked me flat over on my back, and once is quite enough for one day."

"Yah!" shouted his master. "You are ready enough to come on Saturday night for your pay; but if I want anything a little extra done, where am I?--Here, give me the whip." And he snatched it from the man's hand and walked towards the great beast, half-hidden among the trees.

"Say, you boys," growled the driver, "if I was you I'd just be ready to run. You've only just got to dodge him. Stop and make sure which way he's going, and then get in among the trees."

"Yes, quick: in amongst the trees," cried Morris, and he set the example.

"Nay," growled the man. "Not yet. Wait and see first which way he means to go."

Morris set the example of running in another direction, followed by his boys and by the voice of the driver.

"Why, that's worse," he cried. "That's about the way he'd go."

"Then which--what--why--Here, what are you two laughing at?" This to Glyn, who was stamping about with delight.

"Oh, I couldn't help it, sir," cried the boy, and before he could say more there was another loud crack of the whip as Ramball made his way round behind his rebellious beast and shouted at him to "Come out of that."

He had hardly uttered the words when there was a crashing and breaking of wood as if the elephant were making its way quickly through the trees in obedience to the command; and as the sounds ceased, the menagerie proprietor came staggering out without his handkerchief or whip, to stand in the middle of his men looking half-stunned and confused.

"Did he ketch you, sir?" said the driver, with a laugh of satisfaction in his twinkling eyes.

"Brought down his trunk across my back," panted the proprietor. "My word, he can hit hard!"

"Yes, sir; I know. Knocked me flat on my back, he did."

"Knocked me on my face," cried the proprietor angrily. "Look here," he said, "is there any skin off my nose? I fell against a tree."

"Took a little bit of the bark off," grumbled the man, who did not seem at all sympathetic. "Hadn't you better let him fill hisself full, sir, and have a rest? He'll come easy, perhaps, then."

"Do you want me to stand still here and see a devouring elephant go on eating till he ruins me? We must all join together and drive him out."

"But he'll drive us out, sir," said the man in a tone full of remonstrance.

"Then we must try again. I am not going to be beaten by a beast like that."

"Look here, my man," said Morris, "hadn't you better tie him up to one of the trees and leave him till to-morrow? They do this sort of thing abroad, I hear, by tying the elephant's legs or ankles to the trunks of trees."

"What!" shouted Ramball. "Why, he'd take them all up by the roots and go cantering through the town, doing no end of mischief, with them hanging to his legs. Think I want to have to pay for the trees as well as the apples?"

"Then--er--lasso him and lead him home."

"Lass which, sir?"

"Lasso him, my man, with ropes."

"Why, he ain't a wild ostrich of the desert, sir. Look at him!--Here, one on yer run off and fetch the longest cart-rope. This 'ere gentleman would like to have a try."

The boys were roaring with laughter by this time, the mathematical master's parasites joining in as heartily as Glyn and Singh.

"Don't be rude, fellow," said Morris.

"Don't be rude?" cried Ramball, who was fuming with disappointment and rage. "Rude yourself. If you give me much more of your sarce I'll set the animile at you."

As this was proceeding, the elephant, whose taste for apples had been satiated, came slowly out into the open, to stand bending and bowing his massive head, which he swayed slowly from side to side and blinked and flapped his ears, as he watched the assembly with his little reddish eyes in a way which made the mathematical master grip Slegge by the arm.

"I am getting uneasy," he whispered, "about you boys. Don't run, but follow me slowly back to the fence. Tell the other boys, and we will go at once."

"Can't you coax him out, sir?" said Glyn, as he approached the proprietor.

"No, I can't coax him out," cried Ramball snappishly; "but you mind your own business, I know mine. I have had enough of you putting your spoons in my porridge."

"Here, Mr Severn! Mr Singh!" shouted the mathematical master. "This way! We are going back to the college." But he did not go far.

"But I want to see the elephant brought out, sir," replied Singh. "He oughtn't to be left like this. He may do mischief."

"Oh, now you've begun, have you?" yelped the proprietor, whose voice in his anger had gradually reached the soprano. "I suppose you would like to have a try?"

"Oh, I don't want to interfere," replied Singh coolly. "Where do you want the elephant to go?"

"Where do I want him to go? Why, home of course, before he does any more mischief. I wish he was dead; that I do! And he shall be too. Here, Jem, run back to Number One--here's the key--and bring my rifle and the powder-flask and bullet-bag. I'm sick of him. He'll be killing somebody before he's done--a beast!--Tigers is angels to him, sir," he continued appealingly to Morris. "He's the wickedest elephant I ever see, and I've spent more on him in damages than I paid for him at first; but he's played his last prank, and if I can't drive him I can shoot.--'Member that lion, my lads, as killed the gentleman's hoss?"

"Ay, ay, ay!" came in a low murmured growl.

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

"Ay, ay, ay!" was growled.

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

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

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

"Oh, I aren't going to lose nothing, guv'nor, only a bit of a chum. He's knocked me about a bit, and tried to squeeze all the wind out of me two or three times; but that was only his fun. I shouldn't like to see him hurt."

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

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

"You fetch my rifle."

"I wouldn't talk quite so loud, guv'nor, if I was you," replied the man. "Elephants is what they call 'telligent beasts, and you don't know but what that there annymile is a-hearing every word you say and only waiting till I'm gone to make a roosh, knock you down, and do his war-dance all over you."

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

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

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

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

"What!" half-shrieked the man. "Here, I say, where do you go to school? Things are coming to a pretty pass when boys like you begin teaching me, who've been nigh forty year in the wild-beast trade! What next?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then out of the silence, urged by a sense of duty, Morris cried in a harsh, cracked, emotional voice, not in the least like his own, "Severn! Prince! Come back! What are you going to do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Read next: Chapter 7. "Salaam, Maharajah!"

Read previous: Chapter 5. An Al-Fresco Lunch

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