XVIII. A DAY OF FREEDOM

Toby ran at the top of his speed over the rough road; and the monkey,

jolted from one side to the other, clutched his paws more tightly around

the boy's neck, looking around into his face as if to ask what was the

meaning of this very singular proceeding.

When he was so very nearly breathless as to be able to run no more, but

was forced to walk, Toby looked behind him, and there he could see the

bright lights of the circus and hear the strains of the music as he had

heard them on the night when he was getting ready to run away from

Uncle Daniel; and those very sounds, which reminded him forcibly of how

ungrateful he had been to the old man who had cared for him when there

was no one else in the world who would do so, made it more easy for him

to leave those behind who had been so kind to him when he stood so much

in need of kindness.

“We are goin' home, Mr. Stubbs!” he said, exultantly, to the

monkey--“home to Uncle Dan'l an' the boys; an' won't you have a good

time when we get there! You can run all over the barn, an' up in the

trees, an' do just what you want to, an' there'll be plenty of fellows

to play with you. You don't know half how good a place Guilford is, Mr.

Stubbs.”

The monkey chattered away as if he were anticipating lots of fun on his

arrival at Toby's home, and the boy chattered back, his spirits rising

at every step which took him farther away from the collection of tents

where he had spent so many wretched hours.

A brisk walk of half an hour sufficed to take Toby to the woods, and

after some little search he found a thick clump of bushes in which he

concluded he could sleep without the risk of being seen by anyone who

might pass that way before he should be awake in the morning.

He had not much choice in the way of a bed, for it was so dark in the

woods that it was impossible to collect moss or leaves to make a soft

resting place, and the few leaves and pine boughs which he did gather

made his place for sleeping but very little softer.

But during the ten weeks that Toby had been with the circus his bed had

seldom been anything softer than the seat of the wagon, and it troubled

him very little that he was to sleep with nothing but a few leaves

between himself and the earth.

Using the bundle in which was his riding costume for a pillow, and

placing the lunch Mrs. Treat had given him near by, where the monkey

could not get at it conveniently, he cuddled Mr. Stubbs up to his bosom

and lay down to sleep.

“Mr. Lord won't wake us up in the mornin' an' swear at us for not

washin' the tumblers,” said Toby, in a tone of satisfaction, to the

monkey; “an' we won't have to go into the tent tomorrow an' sell sick

lemonade an' poor peanuts. But”--and here his tone changed to one of

sorrow--“there'll be some there that 'll be sorry not to see us in the

mornin', Mr. Stubbs, though they'll be glad to know that we got away all

right. But won't Mr. Lord swear, an' won't Mr. Castle crack his whip,

when they come to look round for us in the mornin' an' find that we

hain't there!”

The reply which the monkey made to this was to nestle his head closer

under Toby's coat, and to show, in the most decided manner, that he was

ready to go to sleep.

And Toby was quite as ready to go to sleep as he was. He had worked

hard that day, but the excitement of escaping had prevented him from

realizing his fatigue until after he had lain down; and almost before he

had got through congratulating himself upon the ease with which he had

gotten free both he and the monkey were as sound asleep as if they had

been tucked up in the softest bed that was ever made.

Toby's very weariness was a friend to him that night, for it prevented

him from waking; which, if he had done so, might have been unpleasant

when he fully realized that he was all alone in the forest, and the

sounds that are always heard in the woods might have frightened him just

the least bit.

The sun was shining directly in his face when Toby awoke on the

following morning, and the old monkey was still snugly nestled under his

coat. He sat up rather dazed at first, and then, as he fully realized

that he was actually free from all that had made his life such a sad and

hard one for so many weeks, he shouted aloud, reveling in his freedom.

The monkey, awakened by Toby's cries, started from his sleep in affright

and jumped into the nearest tree, only to chatter, jump, and swing from

the boughs when he saw that there was nothing very unusual going on,

save that he and Toby were out in the woods again, where they could have

no end of a good time and do just as they liked.

After a few moments spent in a short jubilee at their escape Toby took

the monkey on his shoulder and the bundles under his arm again, and went

cautiously out to the edge of the thicket, where he could form some idea

as to whether or no they were pursued.

He had entered the woods at the brow of a small hill when he had fled

so hastily on the previous evening, and, looking down, he could see the

spot whereon the tents of the circus had been pitched, but not a sign

of them was now visible. He could see a number of people walking around,

and he fancied that they looked up every now and then to where he stood

concealed by the foliage.

This gave him no little uneasiness, for he feared that Mr. Lord or Mr.

Castle might be among the number, and he believed that they would begin

a search for him at once, and that the spot where their attention would

first be drawn was exactly where he was then standing.

“This won't do, Mr. Stubbs,” he said, as he pushed the monkey higher

up on his shoulder and started into the thickest part of the woods; “we

must get out of this place an' go farther down, where we can hide till

tomorrow mornin'. Besides, we must find some water where we can wash our

faces.”

The old monkey would hardly have been troubled if they had not got their

faces washed for the next month to come; but he grinned and talked as

Toby trudged along, attempting to catch hold of the leaves as they were

passed, and in various other ways impeding his master's progress, until

Toby was obliged to give him a most severe scolding in order to make him

behave himself in anything like a decent manner.

At last, after fully half an hour's rapid walking, Toby found just

the place he wanted in which to pass the time he concluded it would be

necessary to spend before he dare venture out to start for home.

It was a little valley entirely filled by trees, which grew so thickly,

save in one little spot, as to make it almost impossible to walk

through. The one clear spot was not more than ten feet square, but it

was just at the edge of a swiftly running brook; and a more beautiful

or convenient place for a boy and a monkey to stop who had no tent, nor

means to build one, could not well be imagined.

Toby's first act was to wash his face, and he tried to make the monkey

do the same; but Mr. Stubbs had no idea of doing any such foolish thing.

He would come down close to the edge of the water and look in; but the

moment that Toby tried to make him go in he would rush back among the

trees, climb out on some slender bough, and then swing himself down by

the tail, and chatter away as if making sport of his young master for

thinking that he would be so foolish as to soil his face with water.

After Toby had made his toilet he unfastened the bundle which the fat

lady had given him, for the purpose of having breakfast. As much of an

eater as Toby was, he could not but be surprised at the quantity of food

which Mrs. Treat called a lunch. There were two whole pies and half of

another, as many as two dozen doughnuts, several large pieces of cheese,

six sandwiches, with a plentiful amount of meat, half a dozen biscuits,

nicely buttered, and a large piece of cake.

The monkey had come down from the tree as soon as he saw Toby untying

the bundle, and there was quite as much pleasure depicted on his face,

when he saw the good things that were spread out before him, as there

was on Toby's; and he showed his thankfulness at Mrs. Treat's foresight

by suddenly snatching one of the doughnuts and running with it up the

tree, where he knew Toby could not follow.

“Now look here, Mr. Stubbs!” said Toby, sternly, “you can have all you

want to eat, but you must take it in a decent way, an' not go to cuttin'

up any such shines as that.”

And after giving this command--which, by the way, was obeyed just about

as well as it was understood--Toby devoted his time to his breakfast,

and he reduced the amount of eatables very considerably before he had

finished.

Toby cleared off his table by gathering the food together and putting it

back into the paper as well as possible, and then he sat down to think

over the situation and to decide what he had better do.

He felt rather nervous about venturing out when it was possible for Mr.

Lord or Mr. Castle to get hold of him again; and as the weather was

yet warm during the night, his camping place everything that could be

desired, and the stock of food likely to hold out, he concluded that

he had better remain there for two days at least, and then he would be

reasonably sure that if either of the men whom he so dreaded to see had

remained behind for the purpose of catching him, he would have got tired

out and gone on.

This point decided upon, the next was to try to fix up something soft

for a bed. He had his pocketknife with him, and in his little valley

were pine and hemlock trees in abundance. From the tips of their

branches he knew that he could make a bed as soft and fragrant as any

that could be thought of, and he set to work at once, while Mr. Stubbs

continued his antics above his head.

After about two hours' steady work he had cut enough of the tender

branches to make himself a bed into which he and the monkey could burrow

and sleep as comfortably as if they were in the softest bed in Uncle

Daniel's house.

When Toby first began to cut the boughs he had an idea that he might

possibly make some sort of a hut; but the two hours' work had blistered

his hands, and he was perfectly ready to sit down and rest, without the

slightest desire for any other kind of a hut than that formed by the

trees themselves.

Toby imagined that in that beautiful place he could, with the monkey,

stay contented for any number of days; but after he had rested a time,

played with his pet a little, and eaten just a trifle more of the lunch,

the time passed so slowly that he soon made up his mind to run the risk

of meeting Mr. Lord or Mr. Castle again by going out of the woods the

first thing the next morning.

Very many times before the sun set that day was Toby tempted to run

the risk that night, for the sake of the change, if no more; but as he

thought the matter over he saw how dangerous such a course would be and

he forced himself to wait.

That night he did not sleep as soundly as on the previous one, for the

very good reason that he was not as tired. He awoke several times; and

the noise of the night birds alarmed him to such an extent that he was

obliged to awaken the old monkey for company.

But the night passed despite his fears, as all nights will, whether

a boy is out in the woods alone or tucked up in his own little bed at

home. In the morning Toby made all possible haste to get away, for each

moment that he stayed now made him more impatient to be moving toward

home.

He washed himself as quickly as possible, ate his breakfast with the

most unseemly haste, and, taking up his bundles and the monkey, once

more started, as he supposed, in the direction from which he had entered

the woods.

Toby walked briskly along, in the best possible spirits, for his running

away was now an accomplished fact, and he was going toward Uncle Daniel

and home just as fast as possible. He sang “Old Hundred” through five

or six times by way of showing his happiness. It is quite likely that

he would have sung something a little more lively had he known anything

else; but “Old Hundred” was the extent of his musical education, and he

kept repeating that, which was quite as satisfactory as if he had been

able to go through with every opera that was ever written.

The monkey would jump from his shoulder into the branches above, run

along on the trees for a short distance, and then wait until Toby came

along, when he would drop down on his shoulder suddenly, and in every

other way of displaying monkey delight he showed that he was just as

happy as it was possible.

Toby trudged on in this contented way for nearly an hour, and every

moment expected to step out to the edge of the woods, where he could see

houses and men once more. But instead of doing so the forest seemed

to grow more dense, and nothing betokened his approach to the village.

There was a great fear came into Toby's heart just then, and for a

moment he halted in helpless perplexity. His lips began to quiver, his

face grew white, and his hand trembled so that the old monkey took hold

of one of his fingers and looked at it wonderingly.

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