A REMARKABLE FENCER.
Amid perfect silence the elephant made his entrée under the direction
of his little friend Abel, who could do anything he liked with the
good-tempered monster.
He proceeded calmly to the center of the open space inclosed by the
reserved seats, the planks, and the standing spectators, and then with
trunk lowered and motionless, stood at attention.
"Nalla!" said Abel, "we shall now pay our respects to this
distinguished gathering."
Then, taking off his toque, he made sweeping bows to right and left,
which the docile elephant imitated by elevating and lowering his trunk
in a dignified manner that was highly amusing.
"And now, Nalla," continued Abel, who bore himself with all the
importance of a grown person, "you will be good enough to let us see
how much you know and can do. For instance, can you sing like your
mistress, Mademoiselle Nadine?"
"To be sure, I can," responded Nalla, in dumb show, by lifting his
trunk up and down.
"Very well, then," smiled Abel. "Suppose you give us one of the songs
of your own country, something sweet and tender."
Nalla threw back his enormous ears, and pointing his trunk high into
the air, let forth a series of horrible sounds that fairly stunned the
ears of the spectators, who nearly rolled over with laughter while they
strove to shut out the dreadful noise by clapping their hands over
their ears.
"That will do! that will do! Nalla!" cried Abel, giving the absurd
creature a slight slap with his wand. "You sing beautifully, of course,
but you have a shocking bad voice, and you haven't the least idea of
tune. You shall have to take a course of lessons before you again
appear in public."
"All right!" said the waving trunk, and the abominable discords ceased
abruptly.
"It is evident that you have a very bad cold to-night, Nalla," said
Abel, "and your voice requires attention. But if you sing so badly,
perhaps you are better at dancing?"
"Certainly, I dance admirably," responded Nalla, proceeding to put
himself in position to begin.
"Would you be so kind, then, as to show our kind patrons a quick-step
of your own invention?" asked Abel.
"With pleasure," answered Nalla, but he did not budge nevertheless.
"Why, what's the matter? Why don't you begin?" demanded Abel, with
well-simulated surprise and anger.
For reply Nalla resumed singing with his huge horrid voice.
"Ah! I understand," smiled Abel, giving himself a slap with the wand.
"_I_ was forgetting. You require some one to play for you, of course."
"Yes, yes," replied the mobile trunk, which expressed its owner's meaning
quite as well as the fingers of deaf-mutes do what they want to tell.
Turning around, Abel called out:
"Mr. Musician Cæsar, will you be so good as to select from your
repertoire something that will do for the elephant to dance to?"
"I shall be very pleased to do so," responded Cæsar promptly, coming
forward with his mandolin.
"Ah, thank you, musician," said Nalla, looking highly pleased, and, as
soon as Cæsar struck up, he began dancing, if not with grace, at least
with great earnestness. Indeed the huge creature kept time with his
feet, and circled about in a way that one could hardly have believed
him capable of doing.
"Excellent! Excellent! Nalla!" exclaimed Abel, while the spectators
showed their concurrence by a hearty round of applause. "You certainly
are a famous dancer. Now that will do for the present. You can take a
rest."
But, instead of obeying, Nalla continued his circling, and the waving
of his trunk in a very droll fashion.
"That will do, I tell you," Abel cried. "Stop, or I'll have to make you!"
Nalla only danced the harder, and was evidently mocking Abel with that
wonderful trunk which seemed equal to expressing any emotion. The
spectators laughed heartily. The elephant was more than fulfilling
expectations. Indeed they had never before seen so intelligent and
amiable a monster.
"Oh, I know what you're driving at," said Abel, the angry frown on his
face yielding to a smile of comprehension. "You want to fight a duel.
All right! I'm at your service."
Nalla wagged his trunk joyfully, ceased pirouetting, and took up a
position opposite Abel, who produced two foils with buttons, one of
which he extended to the elephant.
Nalla eagerly seized it with his trunk, and put himself on guard.
"Ready now!" cried Abel, and at once opened the attack with great
spirit.
But Nalla, dexterously wielding his foil, parried every thrust to
perfection, and Abel could not get past his guard, try as hard as he
might.
The soldiers were highly amused at the lack of skill shown by the
eight-year-old boy, and tried to be witty at his expense, whereupon
Abel stopped the bout, and, facing the spectators, said in a tone of
challenge:
"Gentlemen, you are laughing at my failure and want of experience. No
doubt there are among you many much more expert at fencing than I am.
In that case I shall be only too glad to make way. Does any one of
those present wish to take my foil, and try a turn with Nalla?"
At first there was no response, and Abel repeated his request. Then a
soldier advanced slowly.
"Ah! ah! there's a champion!" was called out from the benches.
"You need not be afraid in the least," said Abel encouragingly, for the
soldier moved in a hesitating way. "Fence with Nalla just as you would
with a comrade. He will play you no mean trick, but I warn you that
he's very good at the game."
The soldier smiled cheerfully, and, grasping the foil, put himself in
position vis-à-vis to the elephant.
Nalla fixed his bright little eyes upon him, and with foil in trunk
awaited the attack.
Now this soldier who had come forward was a young fellow of spirit,
who was not lending himself to the little pleasantry in order to show
off his skill at fencing. On the contrary, moved by the humor of the
occasion, he entered the lists against Nalla quite ready to let the big
brute carry off the honors, and without being troubled at all as to the
figure he should cut himself.
Accordingly he went at the elephant in lively fashion, but, thrust
and feint and dodge as he might, he could not get inside the
clever creature's guard, or touch any part of his huge body. Nalla
parried every attack with a quickness and precision that was simply
astonishing, evidently enjoying the play quite as fully as his active
antagonist, who threw himself into it with such vim.
For a while Nalla contented himself with maintaining his defense, but
presently he changed his tactics, and assumed the offensive. Without
moving from the spot upon which he stood he lunged and riposted with
such swiftness and accuracy of aim that he touched the soldier's chest
with the button three times in short order.
"Bravo! Bravo!" cried the spectators, delighted at the big fellow's
amazing skill. "Go for him, old chap! Touch him again."
The soldier, not in the least alarmed, defended himself gallantly, but
it was evident that he was completely overmatched, and a moment later,
Nalla, as if taking pity on his adversary, by a clever pass, disarmed
him, and then let his own foil drop.
The place rang with applause while the soldier, carrying out the play
with admirable spirit, assumed an attitude of profound humiliation.
When the commotion subsided, there were cries from the soldiers for
"Master Deschamps! Master Deschamps!" and Colonel Laurier turned around
to survey his men with a questioning look.
Then there came forward a tall athletic man with a strong dark
countenance in which eagerness and reluctance seemed to be contending.
He was the fencing-master of the regiment, and had the reputation of
being one of the most expert in the whole army. It was, therefore, only
natural that the men should be anxious to see what he could do against
so redoubtable an opponent.
He approached the Colonel, and by an inquiring look sought to know the
latter's will.
Colonel Laurier glanced at Madame Pradère, who in her turn shot a quick
look at Nadine.
Nadine smiled back unconcernedly. Madame Pradère nodded her assent to
the Colonel, and he said in a low tone to Master Deschamps.
"Try a bout with the creature, but be careful not to do him any harm."
The fencing-master bowed, and taking the foil from little Abel put
himself on guard.
The excitement was now intense, and the spectators were perfectly
silent. The soldiers expected great things from their champion, to
whom every trick and strategy of the art of fencing was known, and
the Tamby family were even more confident concerning their gigantic
representative.
The fencing-master went to work very warily at first. He wanted to
learn the extent of his novel antagonist's skill, and he circled about
in front of him, making dexterous passes and deceiving feints with
such rapidity that they could scarcely be followed by the human eye.
But the little black beads that twinkled in Nalla's huge head were
not to be misled. Wherever Master Deschamps' foil flashed there was
the elephant's ready to meet it, and the air rang with the sound of
steel striking steel while the spectators watched the strange struggle
breathlessly.
At last the man grew angry. It seemed absurd to be thus bettered at his
own speciality by a mere animal however big. He darted this way and
that, lunging fiercely, if not recklessly. He resorted even to devices
that were not considered "good form" in the fencing-hall. But they were
all alike in vain. Nalla, without stirring a foot, simply by waving his
trunk with the foil firmly held in the end, parried every attack and
remained untouched.
Then Abel whispered to him the single word "Now," and at once he
changed his tactics. Hitherto he had been on the defense. Now he took
up the attack. The foil fairly whistled through the air with the
rapidity of his movements. Again and yet again the button touched the
tunic of the fencing-master, not roughly, but with just sufficient
force that there should be no mistake.
Despite the discomfiture of their champion the soldiers broke forth
into roars of applause. Nalla had won their hearts by his superb and
placid dignity. He was the finest beast they had ever seen, and they
did not grudge him his victory.
But Master Deschamps did not take it in equally good part. He felt
bitterly humiliated. His face grew crimson with rage. His eyes glowed
like burning coals, and at last forgetting himself in his fury he gave
an inarticulate hoarse cry, and rushed at the elephant brandishing his
foil with the evident intention of using it, not in the proper way, but
as a whip wherewith to smite his successful antagonist.