"Sonny, you kin reckon it dead sure, thar's something wrong 'bout a
thing that don't explain itself."
That was Old Rocky's advice, given three-and-twenty years ago--not
forgotten yet, but, in this instance, respectfully ignored.
It happened some years ago, and this was the way of it: the Fox of
Ballybotherem having served three generations--in his native Tipperary,
in Kaffraria, and in the Transvaal--seemed entitled to a rest; and when,
in the half-hour before `lights out,' which is the Little People's
particular own, the demand came from certain Autocrats of the Nightgown:
"Now, tell us something else!" it occurred to the Puzzled One to tell of
Jock's fight with the table leg. And that is how the trouble began.
Those with experience will know what followed; and, for those less
fortunate, the modest demand of one, comfortably tucked up tailorwise,
and emphasising his points by excited hand-shakes with his toes, will
convey the idea: "It must be _all true_! and don't leave out
_anything_!"
To such an audience a story may be told a hundred times, but it must be
told, as Kipling says, "Just so!" that is, in the same way; because,
even a romance (what a three-year-old once excused as "only a play
tell") must be true--to itself!
Once Jock had taken the field it was not long before the narrator found
himself helped or driven over the pauses by quick suggestions from the
Gallery; but there were days of fag and worry when thoughts lagged or
strayed, and when slips were made, and then a vigilant and pitiless
memory swooped like the striking falcon on its prey. There came a night
when the story was of the Old Crocodile, and one in the Gallery--one of
more exuberant fancy--seeing the gate open ran into the flower-strewn
field of romance and by suggestive questions and eager promptings helped
to gather a little posy: "And he caught the Crocodile by the tail,
didn't he?" "And he hung on and fought him, didn't he?" "And the Old
Crocodile flung him high into the air? High!" and, turning to the two
juniors, added "quite as high as the house?" And the narrator--
accessory by reason of a mechanical nod and an absent-minded "Yes"
passed on, thinking it could all be put right next time. But there is
no escape from the `tangled web' when the Little People sit in judgment.
It was months later when retribution came. The critical point of the
story was safely passed when--Oh; the irony and poetic justice of it--it
was the innocent tempter himself who laid his hand in solemn protest on
the narrator's shoulder and, looking him reproachfully in the eyes, said
"Dad! You have left out the best part of all. Don't you remember
how..."
And the description which followed only emphasises the present writer's
unfitness for the task he has undertaken. In the text of the story and
in the illustration by my friend Mr Caldwell (who was himself subjected
to the same influence) there is left a loophole for fancy: it is open to
any one to believe that Jock is just beginning or just ending his aerial
excursion. The Important People are not satisfied; but then the page is
not big enough to exhibit Jock at the top of that flight--of fancy!
From the date of that lesson it was apparent that reputations would
suffer if the story of Jock were not speedily embodied in some durable
and authoritative form, and during a long spell of ill health many of
the incidents were retold in the form of letters to the Little People.
Other Less Important Persons--grown-ups--read them and sometimes heard
them, and so it came about that the story of Jock was to be printed for
private circulation, for the Little People and their friends. Then the
story was read in manuscript and there came still more ambitious
counsels, some urging the human story of the early days, others the wild
animal life of South Africa. Conscious of many deficiencies the
narrator has left two great fields practically untouched, adhering to
the original idea--the story of Jock; and those who come into it, men
and animals, come in because of him and the life in which he played so
large a part. The attempt to adapt the original letters to the symmetry
of a connected story involved, as one might have known, endless trouble
and changes, necessitating complete re-writing of most parts; and the
responsibility and work became still greater when, after a casual and
unforeseen meeting, my friend Mr Caldwell accepted the suggestion to
come out to South Africa and spend six months with us in order to study
the game in its native bush and to know the conditions of the life and
put that experience into the work of illustrating "Jock."
The writer is well aware that, from the above causes and one other,
there are grave inequalities in style and system, and in plane of phrase
and thought, in different parts of the book. For this feature the `one
other' cause is alone put forward as a defence. The story belongs to
the Little People, and their requirements were defined--"It must be _all
true_! Don't leave out _anything_!" It has been necessary to leave out
a great deal; but the other condition has been fully and fairly complied
with; for it is a true story from beginning to end. It is not a diary:
incidents have been grouped and moved to get over the difficulty of
blank days and bad spells, but there is no incident of importance or of
credit to Jock which is not absolutely true. The severest trial in this
connection was in the last chapter, which is bound to recall perhaps the
most famous and most cherished of all dog stories. Much, indeed, would
have been sacrificed to avoid that; but it was unthinkable that, for any
reason, one should in the last words shatter the spell that holds Jock
dear to those for whom his life is chronicled--the spell that lies in `a
true story.'
Little by little the book has grown until it has come perilously near
the condition in which it might be thought to have Pretensions. It has
none! It is what it was: a simple record, compiled for the interest and
satisfaction of some Little People, and a small tribute of remembrance
and affection offered at the shrine of the old life and those who made
it--tendered in the hope that some one better equipped with
opportunities and leisure may be inspired to do justice to it and to
them for the sake of our native land.