IN WHICH DAN ANSWERS THE BECKONING TREES
Not in all Spangleland, nor, for that matter, anywhere else, is there
to be found quite such a twilight as that which is spun in the great
tent that belongs to the “monkeys, and lions, and tigers and things.”
As you must often have noted, there is among the breezes, a certain one
that is extremely partial to animals. It is never happier than when
ruffling the forelock of some big dapple-gray; teasing the tail of proud
chanticleer; or cradling a gull in its wide-spreading arms. Indeed, it
is the very “vagrant breeze” of which, doubtless, you have heard many
times. But, wherever its fancy may carry it throughout the hours of the
day, it always reaches Spangleland just before the sun dips from view.
There it seeks out a hiding place on the edge of the town, to watch and
to wait. And, at the first sign of eventide, this knowing breeze slips
along near the ground, wriggles under the wall, and so comes inside the
menagerie tent.
Once within, it frolics this way and that, but so very slyly that even
the keenest-eared of the animals can no more detect it than one might
hear a butterfly sing. Yet it is here, there, and everywhere, rubbing
its nose against the blue of the poles and its back and its sides
against the cages of red. In doing this it takes just a bit of the color
of both and so clothes itself in a soft, purple coat. Then, when it
departs, it leaves the filmy garment behind, and that, you see, is the
twilight.
Now, it was just at the moment when this vagrant breeze had cast off its
robe that Dan wound his arms around his knees, gazed thoughtfully across
the tops of them and started the story of Gray Ears, the Elephant.
“It all began with the beckoning trees,” he said rather slowly. “You
see, they kept calling me. I was never far from them. The one-ring
circus of which I was a part was so very small that it never ventured
into the cities, but contented itself with visiting the smallest of
hamlets and villages. So, as we moved from one to the other, our winding
wagon train threaded roads that led through the woods. When we pitched
our tent, it was often at the very edge of the trees. And always, ever
and always, they beckoned me. At times it was as if their topmost
branches were swayed by great puffs of wind. At such moments they would
bend toward me and then toss themselves back again, as if saying in
pantomime:
“‘Come on, Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan; come on and play!’
“And, as often as they called, just that often did I resolve to answer.
But, somehow, I seemed never able to find the time. You see, just
because it was so very small, the circus needed the help of all of us to
put it in place, to give the performances, and then to move on and on.
And so I was busy throughout all the day.
“As the summer advanced and the woods grew more green and the shadows
more dense, the call came again and again. There were times when I was
tempted to let everything go and just skip away to the deep, leafy
depths. Now this may seem odd to you—”
“Ah, but it does not,” spoke up Leopard; “I know the feeling.”
“And I,” added Tiger.
“So do we all,” said Lion, a bit wistfully. “Indeed, if it were not for
the certain most important reason, I sometimes think we animals
might—well, there is no telling what we might do. But, of course, there
are the children—”
“Yes, yes, the children,” repeated all the animals, very softly.
“The children, to be sure,” agreed Diggeldy Dan. “I thought of them,
too. ‘It is all very well for you to dream of running off to the woods,
Dan, Dan, Diggeldy Dan,’ I would say to myself, ‘but what of the
children that come to the circus to see the clowns? What, yes, what
would they say if there wasn’t any clown? Answer me that, Diggeldy Dan.’
And yet, there came a day when all my reasoning went to the winds.
“It happened on an afternoon when our tent was pitched between the
littlest of towns and the greatest of woods. The crowd had come, the
band had begun to play, the circus was in full swing. I was in the ring,
jesting with the ringmaster and cutting my cleverest capers. But my
thoughts were in the depths of the woods. For I could see the green of
the trees through the eaves of the tent and the rugged brown trunks
through the half-curtained door. And, oh, how they called me! Not even
the mirth of the tow-headed boy who sat in the very front row, nor the
forget-me-nots on the bonnet of the little girl just behind him could
take the tug from my heart.
“Now on this day, as always, there came the moment when I made a face at
the ringmaster while he, on his part, let fly with his whip. And, as was
the fashion, I pretended great awe of him and dashed from the ring to
escape his advance. This bit of acting I had done whole dozens of times,
always scampering as far as the door at the rear of the tent and then
coming back to my place. But, just as I reached the curtain on this
afternoon, the great wind-puffs began! How the hundreds upon hundreds of
branches bent forward; and how they swept backward again! They were
beckoning me onward, beckoning as never before!
“And so, without so much as turning my head, I bounded on through the
door and ran straight for the trees. As I reached the first of them,
there came the voice of the ringmaster bidding me return. Soon other
voices, voices great and small and deep and shrill, rose in one clear
cry:
“‘Come back, Dan! Come back, Diggeldy Dan!’
“But the woods now held me fast in their arms.
“‘On, on, Diggeldy Dan!’ called every leaf.
“‘Stop, stop!’ pleaded every child and, mingling with their voices, I
could hear the guttural bass of the ringmaster’s shout.
“How I ran! Deep, deep into the depths of the boundless woods I sped;
and deep, deep into the boundless woods came they who gave chase.
Peering back over my shoulder, I could see all the children, and all
their fathers and mothers and uncles and even their aunts coming
pell-mell in pursuit, all led by the ringmaster in his shiny top hat and
shiny top boots.
“‘You must not run away, Dan!’ warned a voice from within.
“‘Come away, come away, Dan!’ sang the leaves from the trees.
“And so I pressed on. Indeed, I could not stop. The leaves underfoot
seemed in league with those overhead. They pushed against the soles of
my feet, sending me forward by leaps and by bounds. But, fast as I ran,
those who came after proved even swifter than I. Looking back once
again, I could see the ringmaster had redoubled his speed. On he came,
the split tails of his coat sticking straight out behind, while,
clinging tight to the ends of them were the tow-headed boy and the
little girl with the forget-me-not bonnet!
“I was glad they were gaining on me; and yet I was sorry. I wanted them
to catch me, and yet I did not. Meanwhile, I ran like the wind. But they
came nearer and nearer. Now the ringmaster was so close that I could
make out the tiger-eye buttons on his very red vest.
[Illustration: “Something came from out the air, and swept me square off
my toes.” _Page 95._]
“A hundred paces ahead showed the shadowy outline of a densely leafed
thicket. For this cover I sped and, rounding its shoulder, shut my
pursuers from view. And then, just as I did so, something came from out
the air, swept me square off my toes, swung me outward and aloft and
then dropped me into the depths of the thicket!
“As I scrambled to my feet I could hear the clamoring cries and glimpse
the hurrying forms of the throng as they swept around the corner of the
coppice that covered me. There were children of all ages and sizes, with
many curls and many hair-ribbons held out on the lap of the wind. And
there were no end of mothers with very bright eyes and very pink cheeks,
hand in hand with no end of fathers. And some carried umbrellas which
they brandished overhead as they ran.
“But suddenly there came a halt. For a puzzled half-minute the
ringmaster stood looking first to the left and next to the right. Then,
as if making up his mind that I had gone toward the north, he cut the
air with his whip, thrust it forward like a captain leading his troops
on to victory, and cried:
“‘Into the deeper woods!’
“Instantly all the fathers pointed aloft in exactly the same manner, and
away went the throng, raising more of a cry than before.
“At this I would have recalled them. But no sooner had I opened my mouth
to do so than there came a warning ‘S-s-s-sh’ so tremendous that it
fairly blew the hat off my head. And, looking to the left and to the
right, I saw that I was standing between two great mud-colored posts,
roofed in with a chin and the undermost side of a monstrous mouth
overhung with a nose that came halfway to the ground!
“‘Not a word out of you,’ warned the mouth.
“‘Swish, swish,’ from side to side went the nose.
“Tighter and tighter squeezed the two ponderous posts!
“And, meanwhile, the voices of those who had left me behind grew fainter
and fainter and fainter, until, finally, I could hear them no more.
“‘Now, then,’ said the mouth, as the posts, which were really two legs,
drew apart; and the nose, more correctly a trunk, reached back and
lifted me to a place in the light, ‘now you may make as much noise as
you please.’
“And, looking up, I found myself gazing into the good-humored face of an
elephant of marvelous size.”