THROUGH THE DARKNESS
‘But who that beauteous Boy beguil’d,
That beauteous Boy to linger here?
Alone, by night, a little child,
In place so silent and so wild――
Has he no friend, no loving mother near?’
――_Coleridge._
‘Let not the dark thee cumber:
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light
Like tapers clear without number.’
――_Herrick._
Suddenly Grif sat up, for he had heard a bark. Was it only in his
imagination, that low, deep wow-ow-ow-ow, coming to him through the
darkness? He sat listening intently, afraid almost to draw his breath.
Then it came again:――it was Pouncer.
Grif started to his feet. The barking came from the other side of the
copse, and though in the stillness of the night in this solitary place
such a sound might travel far, he felt that it was not really very
distant. Perhaps two hundred yards away, possibly less; at all events
it would be there to guide him, for now he heard it once more.
He had not the faintest idea what time it was, but judging from the
darkness it was probably close upon midnight. It might be later, but
he did not think so. In any case the circus must have encamped for the
night, and be at this moment within a short distance of the very spot
where he had fallen asleep.
The first thing to do was to get out of the copse, for here, at every
step he took, he seemed to tread on a dry stick which snapped with a
noise like a pistol shot, and silence was essential to the carrying
out of his plan. In a few minutes he had reached the fields beyond the
trees, and with that he paused to consider what he should do next.
Pouncer’s bark sounded from somewhere on the left of the road, and,
keeping well in the shadow, he moved along the rising ground with all
the stealth of an Indian. He wished he could be a little more certain
as to the time, for he felt that much depended on this――depended on
whether the camp were fixed up for the night and its occupants asleep.
On the other hand, he could not afford to wait too long, since it might
already be nearer morning than he imagined. No doubt the circus people
would be up and abroad quite early, and, though he knew pretty well
where he was, a long journey still stretched between Grif and home.
Now that he was out of the plantation there was plenty of light; there
was indeed too much; the fields and open ground being flooded by the
moon. There was another outburst of barking, this time quite close at
hand: then, as he reached the brow of the hill he had been climbing,
he saw the caravan straight in front of him, not fifty yards away, its
dark heavy outline black against the sky. Immediately beyond it he saw
the gate by which it had entered. So they had not come by the road
after all, or, if they had, they must have branched off on reaching a
lane or side-track.
Grif stood still and gazed. There were no lights in the caravan――at
least he could see none――but he wished he had some means of telling
when they had been put out. Gradually he crept nearer. The caravan
was drawn up beside the copse, from which it jutted at a right angle,
the door being turned outward to the field. The animals probably
were tethered close by. As he took another step forward a huge dark
shape rose up heavily almost at his feet, sending Grif’s heart into
his mouth, till he recognized that it was only one of the horses.
He advanced nearer and nearer, taking each step with the utmost
precaution. Then his foot caught in a bramble and he stumbled. There
instantly arose a furious and united barking in which the individual
note of Pouncer was lost, and Grif hastily drew back among the trees.
But the noise went on, and presently, as he peeped out, he saw a woman
step down the ladder into the moonlight, a thick stick in her hand. She
called to the dogs angrily, but as the tumult did not cease proceeded
to take more forcible measures, and Grif could hear the hollow thuds
of her stick, followed by shrill yelps, as she scattered blows
indiscriminately. His blood boiled to think of Pouncer being beaten.
Probably he would have sprung out of his hiding-place there and then
had not the woman suddenly stopped. After a few more threatening words
she retraced her steps, and disappeared again inside the caravan.
Grif waited for perhaps ten minutes, during which time the only noise
he heard was an occasional whine, and the deep note of Pouncer: then
he walked straight to where the dogs were tied up. There followed a
fresh outburst of barking, but it ceased almost immediately, for he
was perfectly fearless with animals, and, as he stood among them,
patting their heads and talking to them in a soft whisper, the circus
dogs recognized a friend and fawned upon him, while Pouncer struggled
and tore at his chain, next moment covering Grif, who squatted on the
ground beside him, with a thousand licks and caresses. So excited was
Pouncer by this sudden appearance of his master that Grif found it
difficult to set him free. With the other dogs it was an easier matter,
however, and in a few minutes all were at liberty――the bulldog, a great
Dane, three terriers, and a spaniel.
In his eagerness Grif did not notice that the woman had reappeared,
till a sudden shrill cry awakened him to his danger. She was followed
this time by a half-dressed hobbledehoy, who, as Grif took to his
heels, started in pursuit. With Pouncer racing on ahead, Grif tore down
the lunary field towards the point he had come from, but, as he ran, he
could hear the thudding steps and panting breath of his enemy growing
rapidly nearer. He was racing downhill like the wind, the circus dogs
scattered in all directions and the air full of their noise; already
the road was in sight, when he slipped and fell headlong. With a gruff
shout of triumph the circus boy darted upon him, and at the same moment
Grif saw a compact whitish form rise in the air and strike against the
body of his pursuer with a heavy thud. There was a scream of terror
and pain, a rending, worrying sound, followed by another and another
scream. Then something seemed to be torn away, and Grif was conscious
of a dark flying figure which leaped madly for an overhanging branch,
caught it, and, with a display of acrobatic energy and skill that
probably surpassed anything ever seen in the circus ring, swung itself
into safety.
“It serves you jolly well right for stealing dogs, and I hope he bit
you well,” Grif panted.
His remark was greeted by a flood of filthy language, oddly mingled
with threats legal and bellicose, and wails of impotent suffering.
Pouncer meanwhile stood motionless and watchful, a deep, vibrating
rumble, like the bass note of an organ, coming from his throat and
chest. Then a shrill cry was raised behind them, and Grif, wheeling
round, saw the woman with the stick. The boy in the tree saw her also,
and redoubled his shouts and wails. Followed by Pouncer, Grif trotted
on, while the voices of his enemies, who nevertheless made no further
attempt to molest him, sent a stream of abuse after them through the
night.
He was surprised, now that he had time to think of it, that no one else
had joined in the chase, but he had not the slightest inclination to
await further developments. He hurried along the road till the silence
behind him told him that all immediate danger was passed; then he
began to wonder where the other dogs had gone to, and to hope they
would be wise enough to seek more comfortable homes. If he only had
been able to bring the monkey with him, his expedition would have been
really successful!
They had been walking for a considerable time, Grif with the cheerful
sense that each step must be bringing them nearer home, when they
reached another wood, though this one, surrounded by a stone wall,
seemed to be a portion of a private estate. Surely, Grif thought, they
would be quite safe here, and could sleep the rest of the night away!
The wall of rough stone would be easy to climb, and the circus men,
even if they discovered their hiding-place, would never dare to follow
them.
So he helped Pouncer over and then climbed up himself. Once inside,
they came immediately on a broad path, and presently caught sight of a
big square house, looking very white and silent. But Grif walked past
it, and on over moss and bracken, till, in a little hollow, he dropped
down, and cuddling up close to Pouncer lay staring at the stars. The
air was warm and filled with a delicate aromatic fragrance; the stars
were very near and twinkled kindly; the old moon seemed to laugh down
on a good boy. He had a sense of being quite close to human beings,
for the house was but a hundred yards away, and, after he had shared
the remnants of his biscuits and cheese with Pouncer, he said his
prayers and fell quietly asleep.