NUTS IN MAY
Baby Jane was slowly waking up, with the gentle morning sun shining on
her face.
'What is this silky, furry thing under my head?' she murmured to
herself. And then it all came back to her.
'Oh yes, of course,' said she. 'I've come out to the African Desert to
teach the poor dear creatures nice things to do, instead of fighting and
howling and killing one another. And I've been asleep with my head upon
my dear, naughty old Bear, with all my animals and the Piccaninny round
me. And yesterday I gave them a dancing lesson.
'There now, dears,' she said, sitting up and nodding wisely at the
gently snoring circle, 'wasn't it nicer to sleep properly through the
night by me, after being tired out with playing, than to wander and
howl and be wicked in the dreadful woods and the lonely desert?'
Her little speech waked them, and they sat up and rubbed their eyes and
smiled sleepily at her.
'Now,' said Baby Jane briskly, 'we'll go and wash our faces in the
river.'
Her pupils, except the Crocodile, who tried to look as if she were very
brave in obeying, all made excuses, but Baby Jane was firm, and there
was soon a great spluttering and screwing up of eyes, and they became
very lank and dank and shiny.
Then came breakfast under a spreading palm--a fine breakfast. There was
bread-fruit--which always grows ready toasted in this part of the world
because of the heat of the sun--and butter-nuts and cocoa-nuts with
fresh milk in them; and any one who knew more of these wonderful African
plants would probably tell you of the shrimp shrubs, and of the
whiting-fried-in-egg-and-breadcrumbs-with-their-tails-in-their-mouths
bushes.
'Do you know,' said Baby Jane confidentially when they had finished, 'it
_is_ nice that I'm going to teach you something that is great fun this
sunshiny morning, instead of being taught myself in a stuffy
school-room--and perhaps put in the corner.'
At this point she grew red, and looked round to see if they looked
shocked, but they were all grinning affectionately. A great reformer
loses nothing by little admissions like this.
'Come along, now,' said she; 'I'll teach you some games on this smooth
patch.'
The animals and the Piccaninny all frisked around in high excitement.
'First we'll play blindfold "Cat and Mouse,"' said Baby Jane, after a
moment's thought. 'Lion, you are "mouse," and, Rabbit, you are "cat."
Now I want two handkerchiefs.'
The Bear retired and came back with a large spotted handkerchief. This
time Baby Jane did not ask how he got it--she only sighed.
It was old, so they tore it in half, and, having blindfolded the Lion
and the Rabbit, they spun them round three times and then kept very
quiet to watch the fun.
The Lion was dreadfully nervous at first and crept about on tiptoe, and
listened quaking to the sound of the Rabbit as he scuffled around
snorting fiercely and making savage grabs at the air. Once they bumped
their heads together, but, with an ear-splitting yell of terror, the
Lion bounded away before the Rabbit could grip him.
By-and-bye the Rabbit, having run up against Baby Jane, whispered to
her, 'I reckon he's gone up a tree; I'll go after him.'
Then he felt about till he came to the stem of a palm, and up he went,
hand-over-hand.
In a little while the Lion, who was still tiptoeing about on the ground,
also ran up against Baby Jane, and said in a quavering whisper, 'I
reckon it's not safe down here; I'm going up a tree.' And he felt about
till he came to the very tree up which the Rabbit, or, I should say, the
'cat,' had just climbed, and up he went.
The Rabbit had reached the top, and was meditating on the ease with
which we deceive ourselves, when he heard a scratching sound below him,
and pricked up his ears. Nearer and nearer came the sound.
'Sure enough,' said he, 'it's that "mouse" coming up after me,' and with
a triumphant squeak--'Caught!'--he let go with his four little paws, and
down he dropped plump on the Lion's head.
The Lion shrieked aloud with terror and dismay, and fell heavily to the
ground; and there he lay with the Rabbit sitting smiling on top of him.
[Illustration: Down he dropped plump on the Lion's head.]
Then the others tried their hands at being 'cat' and 'mouse,' until the
whole party was weak with laughing.
'Now we'll have a three-legged race,' said Baby Jane when they had at
last subsided into giggles. 'It is rather a boys' game, but I'm only
going to do it to teach you.'
[Illustration: Baby Jane and the Piccaninny.]
There were three couples--the Lion and the Rabbit, the Bear and the
Crocodile, and Baby Jane and the Piccaninny.
The Bear and the Crocodile made a splendid race with Baby Jane's
couple. The Bear took tiny steps to suit the shortness of the
Crocodile's legs, and their feet pattered as fast as a fly flaps its
wings; but the children won by two yards.
As for the Lion and the Rabbit, they sat down to quarrel half-way, the
Rabbit recommending big kangaroo-like bounds, while the Lion was for
hopping on the joint leg.
After this came a game of 'Gathering Nuts in May,' and the creatures
nearly went wild with excitement.
It is to be feared that they were so anxious for their side to win that
they did things that were not quite honest.
Now, Baby Jane had decided that the Rabbit and the Piccaninny might
always pull together, being each so small.
On a certain occasion her side had declared in song that they would
'Have Miss Crocodile for Nuts in May,
Nuts in May, Nuts in May';
and also that they would
'Send Bunny and the Piccaninny to fetch her away,
Fetch her away, fetch her away.'
Then that little couple went out, and the Rabbit, having caught the
Crocodile's hand, and the Piccaninny having gripped the Rabbit's little
tail, they tugged and they tugged for the honour of their side to pull
Miss Crocodile over the line, until their little hearts nearly burst and
the Rabbit's tail nearly came off.
[Illustration: She had anchored the end of her tail to a stout young
palm tree.]
And all the while Miss Crocodile calmly sat and smiled, and never
budged.
Why? Because she had anchored the end of her tail to a stout young palm
tree, and it would have needed a steam-engine to 'gather' her.
Even after this, the creatures were eager for more, and Baby Jane
thought of 'Hide-and-Seek.'
She would go and hide, and they would sit in a row with their eyes tight
shut while they counted sixty.
She ran off as fast as she could over a little hillock, so that the
animals could no longer see her, even if they were unfair enough to open
their eyes, and towards a clump of trees that looked like a capital
hiding-place.
She little thought into what terrible danger she was running.
On she went till she had reached the corner of the little wood. There,
behind it, she saw with startled eyes a horde of mounted Cannibals lying
in wait.
For the first moment she thought she could dart back behind the trees,
but no, they had caught sight of her, and with a horrible sound of
smacking of lips the cloud of Light-Horsemen swept towards her. She
noticed that they had only one Horse, but he was densely crowded with a
villainous crew of blacks, and then, as they rushed upon her brandishing
their spear, she clasped her hand over her eyes.
The next moment she was seized roughly and swung high into the air and
on to the shoulder of a Cannibal, and then she felt the Horse turn and
gallop madly--as madly as could be expected of an animal so
overcrowded--across the desert, and away from her dear creatures still
sitting in a row with their eyes tight shut behind the hillock. Oh, it
was dreadful! Her plan had just begun to succeed, and her animals were
growing more and more kind and happy, and now it was all over.
Poor Crocodile and Lion, they would miss her dreadfully and have nothing
to do but go back to the old, bad, miserable ways. Poor dear old Bear,
he would cry. And here Baby Jane herself began to cry loudly,
hopelessly.
After a while she tried to stifle her sobs and to speak coaxingly to the
Nigger who carried her, but he took no notice.
There was evidently no hope, and she began to think whether she would
rather be a cutlet dressed in egg and bread-crumbs with little paper
frills round her ankles and wrists--or soup.
Suddenly she heard a faint sound more beautiful to her than the silver
music of fairy bells. It was the roar of a Lion.
Ah, there they were! Over a sandy wave they came flying in pursuit. The
Lion, ridden by the Piccaninny, sped across the desert with huge bounds,
and dust and stones shot up wherever his flying feet struck the sand;
away to the right, with his head and tail up, the Crocodile was
bouncing bravely along, the Rabbit, who rode her, bumping sky-high; and
close behind the Lion strode the Bear, leaping bushes and bamboos as if
he were running a hurdle-race.
[Illustration: They came flying in pursuit.]
The Light-Horsemen heard the sound of galloping feet behind them, and
the rear-guard, turning his head, gave a howl of horror. The tables were
turned; instead of lunching on Baby Jane, they themselves would now
adorn the festive board. Wildly they thrashed the Light-Horse, but it
was of no use, the galloping Lion was close upon their heels.
Then, as the sledge traveller throws out his companions one by one to
the pursuing wolves, the Light-Horsemen began by throwing out Baby Jane.
In a moment she felt herself whisked into the furry arms of the Bear,
and nursed and petted as gently as if it had been by Nurse herself.
When she felt better and looked round, the Cannibal Light-Horsemen had
disappeared, and the Light-Horse was sitting on a stone fanning herself
with a palm-leaf. As the Crocodile and the Lion, both looking quiet and
sleepy, came up to inquire if Baby Jane was unhurt, the Bear, who was
rocking her to and fro, whispered bitterly to them, 'Well, you _are_
pigs. You might have left me a _little_ one.'
It was a long time before Baby Jane had any heart to play again. It was
so nice to shut her eyes and sniff away the last trace of tears, lying
contentedly against the silky coat of the old Bear.
But after a while she began to brighten up and to make friends with the
Light-Horse, who was a nice animal, though she wore such a dreary
expression.
'I daresay you are tired,' she said kindly; 'so I will tell you what we
will do next. We will make a "Tableau Vivant." We shall only have to
stay still in that.'
The creatures all were delighted with the idea, and the Bear retired
once more to his treasure-store for odds and ends of clothes to dress up
in.
'The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots' was the subject chosen, and it
was a dreadfully real and touching picture that they made.
The Bear was Queen Mary; his sweet, sad, resigned air, and his little
lace handkerchief, wet with tears, would have moved any heart less stony
than Queen Elizabeth's, but she sat in the background and smiled
triumphantly.
The Crocodile was Queen Elizabeth--chosen for the part because her mouth
was best for smiling.
The Rabbit, with his head tucked in and his legs out stiff, was the
block, and the Piccaninny the executioner, with a horrid scowl and a
large axe. Behind the Queen came her weeping ladies, the 'Queen's
Maries.' Baby Jane, the Lion, and the Light-Horse were all 'Queen's
Maries.' The Lion looked especially well with his mane done up in a
chignon. He said he was Mary Beaton, and the Light-Horse was Mary
Carmichael.
It was not till they had posed stiffly for a quarter of an hour that
they remembered that there was no audience to tell them by the clapping
of hands when it had had enough.
'Next time,' said the sharp Rabbit, 'we'll get a lot of tortoises and
turn them on their backs so that they can't run away, and make them look
on and clap.'
'But they will see everything upside down,' said the Lion.
'And we'll have to act on our heads to make it right,' said the
Light-Horse gloomily.
'Oh, we won't bother about that,' said the inventor of the plan. 'They
will be there just to clap, and they won't be turned right side up until
they do clap.'
And this was the end of Baby Jane's lessons for that day.