IN WHICH NELSON SEES STRANGE VISIONS
Although it had been fairly mild when they went to sleep, by early
morning the chill had crept under the rubber blankets, and the four
sleepers twisted and turned uneasily, conscious of the cold and yet too
sleepy to awake. Nelson was on the outside and therefore less protected
than the others. At length, unable to endure it any longer, he sat up
and looked about him with heavy eyes. It was beginning to get light,
and the crescent moon, far down in the sky, was becoming dim. The other
three slept on. Barry raised his head above Dan’s shoulder and glanced
gravely across at Nelson. Then, with a sigh, he curled up again and
went back to sleep.
Nelson’s legs were stiff and aching, and after a moment of indecision
he got up and began to walk around. That warmed him up considerably,
and presently he paused and looked about him over the sleeping world.
Back of the knoll a rosy tinge was creeping upward. The farmhouse
showed no signs of life as yet and the chimney sent no smoke into the
gray sky. And everything was very still.
And then, of a sudden, from somewhere came a strange sound, a sound
that was utterly at variance with the calm hush of early morning.
Nelson puzzled over it for several moments. It was a sound made up of
many lesser sounds, the sound of moving wheels, of creaking wagons,
of heavy footfalls, of rattling harness, of clanking metal, and, so
Nelson thought, of voices. He looked about him in bewilderment. At the
farmhouse not a sign of life showed, nor did the sound seem to come
from that direction. Nelson turned toward the summit of the little
knoll and listened intently. Then he hurried to the top and--rubbed his
eyes in amazement at what he saw. For a moment he thought that he was
still asleep and dreaming.
Across the field which lay between him and the road lumbered a huge
shape, black against the lightening sky. For a second it was formless,
gigantic in that half-light. Then Nelson’s eyes served him better, and
he saw that the approaching object was an elephant and that beside
it walked a man. Yet surely he was dreaming! What could an elephant
be doing in the middle of that country field at five o’clock in the
morning? And then, as he looked again toward the road, he found the
explanation. For now, coming from the direction of the town, emerging
from behind the trees which hid the road there and turning into the
field, came a procession of wagons and horses and--yes, surely that
strange-looking thing was a camel! It was all clear enough now. The
circus had arrived!
Several sections of the fence had been removed, and one by one, with
urging and coaxing, the big boxlike wagons were being driven into the
field. By this time the elephant had reached the end of his journey,
and the attendant had brought him to a stop some fifty yards away from
where Nelson stood and was filling and lighting his pipe. The wagons
lumbered, creaking and jolting, across the grass and were drawn up in
two rows. Then other wagons appeared, flat and low these, and made
straight for the middle of the field. And after that so many things
happened at once and with such amazing celerity that Nelson could only
stand there on the knoll and stare.
As if by magic a small tent arose at the end of the twin lines of
wagons. Dozens of men hurried hither and thither in squads, carrying
canvas, ropes, poles, with never a sign of confusion. The camel,
its ridiculous head moving from side to side superciliously, was
driven over to where the elephant stood. Men with stakes and mallets
followed, and in a minute the two animals were tethered. By that time
the larger tent was lying stretched over the ground ready for raising.
Fires gleamed near the smaller tent, and there came a rattling of
pots and pans. Still another heap of canvas was dragged from a wagon
and stretched out. Unconsciously Nelson had moved down the hill. The
elephant watched him expectantly with his little eyes as he passed.
Nelson kept on until he stood just outside the scene of operations.
They were raising the big tent now. One end of it suddenly arose
into air; men shouted and hurried; ropes were hauled and tightened,
slackened and made fast; the great mallets rose and fell with
resounding blows; inch by inch, foot by foot, the great gleaming canvas
house took form. From somewhere came an appealing odor of coffee and
frying bacon, and Nelson suddenly discovered that he was very hungry.
He walked toward the fires.
Those who passed him looked at him curiously but offered no word of
remonstrance. The sun came up behind the distant hills with a leap and
glittered wanly on the tarnished gold carvings of the chariots and
on the pots and pans of the busy cooks. There were two of these, and
a youth of about sixteen was acting as helper. As Nelson approached,
the youth disappeared into the tent with a basket of tin plates and
cups. The flaps were up and Nelson could see a long table formed of
planks in sections resting on wooden trestles. The boy was setting the
table for breakfast. The stoves, of which there were two, were queer
round cylinders of sheet iron which were fed with wood through doors
in front. On one a great copper caldron was already beginning to throw
off steam. On the other an immense frying pan was filled with bacon,
which, as fast as it was done, was removed to other pans upon a near-by
trestle. A wagon was backed up close at hand, and as they worked, the
cooks went to it for salt and pepper and other ingredients, which they
took from drawers and cupboards with which the rear of the wagon was
fitted. It was all very astonishing and interesting to Nelson, and he
looked and looked until presently one of the cooks saw him and spoke.
“Hello,” he said.
“Good morning,” answered Nelson.
“You’re up early,” continued the other, removing the cover from the
caldron for an instant and slamming it back into place. He was a
thickset man with a humorous, kindly face and the largest hands Nelson
thought he had ever seen.
“Not as early as you,” said Nelson smilingly.
“No, that’s so. It’s our business, you see. Had your breakfast?”
“Not yet.”
“Have a cup of coffee, then?”
Nelson hesitated.
“Got plenty of it?”
“About four gallons,” was the answer. “Here, it’ll warm you up. Toss me
a cup, Joe.”
The other cook obeyed without taking his attention from the sizzling
bacon, and Nelson’s friend held it under a faucet at the bottom of the
caldron.
“There you are. Now you want some sugar. We haven’t got the milk out
yet. O Jerry! Bring a spoon and some sugar.”
“Thank you,” said Nelson as he accepted the tin cup of steaming coffee.
“It smells mighty good.”
“Well, it ain’t the best in the world,” answered the cook cheerfully,
“but it tastes pretty good on a cold morning. You, Jerry! Oh, here you
are. Pass the sugar to the gentleman.”
Nelson turned and for the first time had sight of the boy’s face. The
hand which he had stretched forth fell to his side.
“Why! Hello, Jerry Hinkley!” he cried.
[Illustration: “‘Why! Hello, Jerry Hinkley!’”]
“Hello,” responded Jerry with an embarrassed smile. He was quite a
different-looking Jerry already. His hair had been cut, the faded
overalls and blue gingham shirt had given place to a suit of plain,
neat clothes, half-hidden by a long apron, and there was a new
expression of self-reliance in the gray eyes. He shook hands with
Nelson a bit awkwardly, but looked very glad to see him again.
“What are you doing here, Jerry?” asked Nelson.
“I’m cook’s boy,” was the answer. “I joined the show last Wednesday,
the day after I seen you. Have some sugar?”
Nelson helped himself, accepted the proffered tin spoon, and stirred
his coffee.
“Do you like it?” he asked. “It must be rather a change from the farm.”
“Yes, I like it first-rate,” said Jerry.
“I don’t like to interrupt the meeting of old friends,” said the cook
good-naturedly, “but they’ll be in for breakfast in about ten minutes,
Jerry, and if you ain’t ready for ’em they’ll scalp you alive.”
“I better be goin’,” said Jerry. “Glad I seen you again.”
“All right,” answered Nelson. “When can I see you? Are you busy all
day?”
“No; ’long about ten o’clock I generally don’t have much to do.”
“Good! I’ll look you up then,” said Nelson. “The other fellows will
want to see you too; I’ll bring them along.”
“Will you?” asked Jerry eagerly from the door of the tent. “That’s
mighty kind of you. Good-by. I--I’ll look for you.”
“Know Jerry, do you?” asked the cook as he pulled a box of tin cups
toward him and began setting them on a trestle. Nelson told of their
former meeting, sipping the boiling hot coffee the while.
“Well, Jerry’s a pretty good boy,” said the cook. “Tends to his work
and ain’t got no highfalutin’ nonsense about bein’ too good for it.
Come around and see us again.”
“Thanks,” said Nelson. “I will. And I’m awfully much obliged for that
coffee; it went right to the spot.”
“Knew it would. Have some more? No? Well, so long.”
Nelson turned away and retraced his steps. The coffee had warmed him
up, and he wished the others could have some. He stopped one of the
canvasmen and asked the time.
“Twenty-five minutes after six,” said the man, consulting a big nickel
watch.
Nelson thanked him and went on. But it wouldn’t do to wake up the
others yet, for, of course, the telegraph office wouldn’t be open
before eight, and they wouldn’t want to wait around without any
breakfast. So instead of joining them he turned and looked about him.
The big tent was up, and so was the dressing tent alongside. The
ticket seller’s box was set up beside the main entrance, and men were
stretching a forty-foot length of painted canvas across some upright
poles. He walked toward them and watched. When finally in place the
canvas advertised the attractions of the side show. There was a highly
colored picture of “Princess Zoe, the Marvelous Snake Charmer.” The
princess was an extraordinarily beautiful young lady and was depicted
standing in a regular chaos of writhing snakes, while two others proved
their subjugation by twining themselves caressingly about her arms and
neck. Then there was a picture of “Boris, the Wild Man of the Tartary
Steppes.” Nelson didn’t find Boris especially attractive. According to
the picture he was a squat gentleman with a good deal of hair on his
face, a remarkably large mouth, a flat nose pierced by a brass ring,
and an expression of extraordinary ferocity. Add to that that he was
shown in the act of making his dinner on unappetizing-looking pieces of
raw meat, and you will understand Nelson’s lack of enthusiasm. Queen
Phyllis, the fortune teller, while not particularly beautiful, was much
more pleasing to look upon. The last picture was that of “Zul-Zul, the
Celebrated Albino Prima Donna,” singing before the crowned heads of
Europe. Having exhausted the fascinations of Zul-Zul, Nelson wandered
unchallenged into the main tent and found a squad of men erecting
the seats. Even that palled after awhile, and he went out again and
walked through the lane formed of the chariots and wagons. The cages
were still boarded up, but the legends outside threw some light on the
identity of the occupants. “Numidian Lion,” he read; “Asiatic Zebra,”
“Black Wolves,” “Royal Bengal Tiger.” Now and then a cage would rock
on its springs as its occupant moved about, and sometimes a snarl or a
grunt reached his ears. A strip of canvas festooned the big tent on the
roadside and bore the inscription in big black letters:
+---------------------------+
| MURRAY AND WIRT’S |
| MAMMOTH COMBINED SHOWS. |
| |
| AMERICA’S GREATEST CIRCUS |
| AND HIPPODROME! |
+---------------------------+
At a little after seven, having seen all that was to be seen at
present, he returned to the camp. On his way he stopped for a look at
the elephant and camel, which were breakfasting on a bale of hay. In
broad daylight the elephant was distinctly disappointing. He wasn’t
much larger than the camel, as far as height and length went, but there
was a good deal more of him. He was secured by a short chain which led
from an iron ring around one hind foot to a stake driven in the ground.
He ate slowly and thoughtfully, with much unnecessary gesticulation
of his trunk. He was sadly deficient in the matter of tusks, for he
showed only one, and that one had been broken off about three inches
from his mouth and looked much in need of cleaning. Yes, Nelson was
disappointed in the elephant. Nor, for that matter, was the camel much
more satisfying. He was a dirty, rusty camel with a malicious gleam in
his little eyes and a forbidding way of snarling his upper lip back
over his discolored teeth.
“Oh, don’t be so grouchy,” muttered Nelson. “I’m not going to swipe any
of your old hay.”
When he got back to the knoll he found only Barry fully awake, although
Dan showed symptoms of wakefulness, muttering away at a great rate and
throwing his arms about. While Nelson watched, the expected happened.
One of Dan’s arms descended forcibly on Tom’s nose, and Tom awoke with
an indignant snort.
“Hello, Nel,” he muttered. “What time is it?”
“About a quarter after seven, I guess. I can’t tell you exactly, for I
seem to have mislaid my watch.”
Tom gave his attention to Dan.
“Here, wake up, you lazy brute!” he cried. “Want to sleep all day?”
He accompanied this remark with a violent tweak of Dan’s nose, and the
effect was instantaneous. Dan sat up with a start and sent Barry flying
on to Bob.
“Wh-what’s the matter?” he asked, startled.
“Time to get up,” said Tom virtuously.
“That’s right,” agreed Nelson. “Everyone’s eating breakfast.”
“Huh!” said Tom. “Wish I was.”
“Who’s eating breakfast?” asked Bob, rolling over with the struggling
terrier in his arms.
“Well, the elephant and the camel, for two,” answered Nelson.
“Elephant and cam--!” ejaculated Dan. “Say, that’s what comes of
sleeping in the moonlight. I’ve heard of it before. I wonder if you’re
daffy, too, Bob. Are you? Try and say something sensible and let’s see.”
“The moonlight can’t have any effect on you,” said Bob significantly.
Dan sighed.
“You too! I feared it! Say, Nelson, how are the pelicans and the white
mice getting on? Had their hot chocolate yet?”
“I didn’t see them,” answered Nelson. “But the Numidian lion and the
royal Bengal tiger aren’t up yet.”
“You don’t say? Dear, dear, most careless of them! Say, Tommy, how
about you? Are you--er--?” Dan tapped his forehead.
“I will be if I don’t get something to eat pretty soon,” replied Tom
dolefully. “How soon does that telegraph office open?”
“Eight, I guess,” said Nelson. “Wonder where we can wash up a bit?”
“How about the farmhouse over there?” suggested Bob.
“All right, I guess. Let’s break camp and go over. By the way, I saw
Jerry a little while ago.”
“Jerry who?” asked Tom.
“Jerry Hinkley.”
Dan, who had started to get up, sank back again and viewed Nelson with
real concern.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Why, Jerry Hinkley,” answered Nelson with a laugh. “Haven’t forgotten
Jerry, have you?”
Dan shook his head sorrowfully.
“No, but you’d better forget him. Joking aside, Nel, what’s the matter
with you?”
“Oh, nothing. Or--well, the fact is, I thought I saw things; elephants
and camels and--and circuses, you know. I suppose I must have dreamed
it.”
“Well, rather!” said Dan relievedly.
“What was Jerry doing?” asked Bob. “Feeding the elephant peanuts or
riding the camel?”
“He was setting the table,” replied Nelson gravely.
“Say, you must have had a corking nightmare!” exclaimed Tom. “I did a
little dreaming myself; dreamed I was freezing to death, for one thing;
but I didn’t see any menageries.”
“Well, come on, fellows,” said Bob. “Pack up and let’s get a move on.
We’ll get them to loan us some water over at the house and then mosey
toward town. Gee, I’m beastly hungry! Feel as though I hadn’t had a
thing to eat for six weeks.”
“I had a cup of coffee about an hour ago,” said Nelson musingly.
“Say, chuck it, will you?” begged Dan earnestly. “You make me feel
creepy, Nel.”
“Was it hot?” asked Tom in far-away tones as he tied up his pack.
“Boiling,” answered Nelson. “It was great. I wished you fellows had
been there.”
“Thanks. Where was it?” asked Bob. “In the Sahara desert?”
“No; down at the mess tent.”
“What mess tent? Jerry’s?”
“Well, he was there. That’s where I met him. It was the circus mess
tent. The cook gave it to me. It was peachy!”
“Su-say!” cried Tom. “Maybe he isn’t lying, fellows! You know there
was to be a circus here to-day!”
“Yes, that’s what made Nel dream of ’em,” said Bob.
But Tom was studying Nelson’s face attentively, and something about his
smile made Tom suspect that he was on the right track.
“I’ll bu-bu-bet you it’s su-su-su-so!” cried Tom. “Where is it, Nel?”
“Come on,” said Nelson.
They followed him up to the brow of the hill. Before them lay the tents
and the wagons, and, nearer at hand, the elephant and the camel were
still quietly eating breakfast. They stared in amazement.
“Well, I’ll be bu-bu-bu-bu----!”
“Of course you will, Tommy,” said Nelson soothingly. “Only don’t
explode.”
“--bu-bu-bu-blowed!” ended Tom triumphantly. “Wouldn’t that
cu-cu-cu-craze you?”
Then Nelson had to tell them all about it.