THE CLAWS OF THE LEOPARD.
DAVEY sprang back to the cage and took in the situation at a glance.
A little crowd of people, curious to see the wild beasts, but unable
or unwilling to pay the entrance fee and view the performance, had
found out the cage, and had come close to the bars, trying to spy out
the animals,—not an easy thing in the darkness,—and a little girl,
standing very near the leopard's compartment, had thrust in a stick,
and proceeded to stir up the creatures, never thinking of danger.
Suddenly, one of the spotted cats, with a savage snarl, thrust out a
paw, and fastened it in the child's dress at the shoulder. The little
one tried to draw back, but the claws clutched fast, and the yellow
eyes of the leopard, flashing through the dark of the cage, looked as
if the beast meant business.
A woman with more courage than the rest of the bystanders, struck at
the leopard's paw with an umbrella, and made an effort to snatch the
child out of harm's way, but the creature only growled menacingly,
and dug its great claws more deeply into the little girl's shoulder,
piercing the clothing and grazing the tender flesh beneath.
But at that moment Davey, seeing what was the matter, had darted off at
once to the fire, and came rushing back with a long brand well ablaze,
which he had snatched from under the boiling pot.
With a shout, he dashed it full in the face of the leopard, and the
startled beast withdrew its claws in an instant, and slunk away to the
back of the cage.
"Hulloa! What's all this about?" said a voice of authority close by,
and the tamer, dressed for his performance in the tight-fitting,
glistening costume that he had worn when Davey saw him at Bristol
strode up to the little throng. "What's all this about?" he repeated
sternly. "Child hurt? Why, how's this? Where's the lad I left here to
keep people away from the cage? Here, you there round the fire, bring
us a light, will you?"
A light was brought, and the tamer took the little girl tenderly in his
arms, and, assisted by the woman who had tried to help her, examined
the wounded shoulder.
"Happily the cloth is thick; she is not much hurt," he said presently.
"Still," and he turned to the woman, "it may be better to take the
child to a doctor; here's money for you," and he put some silver into
the woman's hand.
"And now," said he, looking round at each face in turn, "who was it
that brought the burning stick and made the leopard let go?"
"Please, sir, it was this boy," said a big lad, thrusting poor Davey
forward with the smouldering brand still in his hand.
"Was it you, child?" questioned Mr. Leo Mendoza, looking incredulously
at the poor little hatless, barefooted, pale-cheeked creature before
him.
"Please, sir, yes, it was me. I'm very sorry if I've hurt your
leopard," said Davey, his voice trembling, for he feared he had got
himself into trouble again, "but you see, sir, the beast wouldn't let
go, and I was afraid he'd pull the child's arm and hand into the cage.
That's why I fetched the burning wood out of the fire. I did the best I
knew."
"My dear boy, what on earth are you afraid of?" said the tamer, gently.
"You did exactly the right thing, and I'm extremely obliged to you.
Hark! There's the bell! That's for me and my four-legged children here!
Wait about, my boy, can you—till I come to you after the performance?
It won't be long. I want to speak to you again. Oh! I have it! Come
over to the fire with me. My good friends,—" here the tamer turned with
a smile to the little group sitting in the red glow of the cheerful
blaze—"just give this lad some supper, will you? He has done me a great
service, and I am coming back for him as soon as my turn in the circus
is over."
"Sit right down here by me, child," said a comfortable,
motherly-looking woman, as Davey stood watching the lithe, graceful
figure of Leo Mendoza till it was lost in shadow. "I shouldn't wonder
now if you was cold and tired, and hungry and lonely, too!"
"Yes, ma'am, I'm all that," said Davey, his eyes filling at the kind
words and yet kinder voice and manner of the good-hearted creature.
"Well, supper's ready; now, Jim, ladle out! The first bowl's for this
lad."
Davey ate his supper, warmed himself through and through by the fire,
and then fell into a doze, from which he was roused by the clear voice
of the tamer ringing out, "Now then, where's my young Knight of the
Burning Brand? Where's my waif and stray that bearded the leopard in
his den, or rather, singed his beard for him? Ah, here you are, child!
Wake up, for I want to talk to you. That boy that I paid to do my
bidding has gone off, nobody knows where, and now I want another. What
do you say, my little K. of the B. B.! Will you be my helper and right
hand?"
And then, before Davey could utter a word in reply, Leo said in low
tones—as though to himself—"Have I seen that boy's face before?"
[Illustration]