Our Poison Club was in a flourishing condition. During the past year
the members had killed off 1,500 red cats, wild dogs, jackals, seven
leopards, and 500 baboons. This represented a good round sum--each tail
being equivalent to a five-shilling demand on the exchequer of the
country--and the chairman had called a meeting to distribute the awards.
"I have pleasure in announcing, gentlemen," he said, "that Mr Si Amos
is the champion poisoner--having placed to his credit 300 cat tails,
seventy-five jackal tails, fifty-four baboon tails, and one leopard
tail. In addition to the dues which are rightly his, he is entitled to
the silver medal presented by the club."
"Well done, Si! Step up!"
Silas pulled his lank figure together, hitched up his trousers, wiped
his mouth with his sleeve, and lumbered up the narrow passage.
"Give him pizen!" said someone in a loud voice, whereat there were cries
of "Shame!"
Silas paused, balanced himself uncertainly on one leg, and searched the
audience.
"It's that Abe," he said. "What he says don't amount to nothin'."
"Mr Pike," expostulated the chairman; "I'm astonished at you."
"Look here, Jim Hockey," said Abe, rising up from a back seat, and
pointing his pipe-stem at the chairman; "I don't keer if you give that
_thing_ there a whole string o' silver buttons--and Lord knows he wants
'em, to keep himself from falling to pieces--but I tell you, you're
opsettin' the laws of nature goin' about killing the animiles off the
face of the yearth. It's not the mean, sneaking way you've got inter of
dropping pizen pills all over the place that riles me so much as the
killin' of 'em off by the thousan' without takin' any thought of what's
coming. Take baboons--"
"Are we here, Mr Chairman, to listen to a speech from Mr Pike, or are
we not?" asked one member, who was credited with having opened a market
in jackals' tails.
"Take baboons," said Abe, pointing his pipe-stem insultingly at his
interrupter. "I allow they're mean, I allow they eat your mealies,
steal your fruit, kill a sheep or two, and frighten your wives; but if
it warn't for the baboons there'd be a scorpion under every stone and a
centipede in every ole stump. The baboons eat them vermin. Take cats--
if it warn't for cats the lands would be swarmin' with mice. If it
warn't for the jackals there'd be a hare in every grass clump."
"If it warn't for Abe Pike," said Silas, with a look of disgust,
"there'd be a durn sight less jaw."
"Hear, hear!"
"Year away," said Abe, "and listen to this. When you're done killin'
all these critturs, the scorpions, an' the centipedes, an' the rats, an'
the snakes, an' the spiders'll swarm all over you. What yer got ter do
is to set Nature ag'in Nature. The wild buck can look after hisself;
teach the tame goat and the sheep to do the same."
"The laws of Nature, Abe, have covered your lands with weeds."
"Yes; and reduced his mangy live stock to one goat," added Si.
"Laugh! yer yeller-eyed, big-footed, long-legged, two-headed,
freckled-faced duffers--laugh!--but I bet you that ole goat'll knock the
stuffin' out of your club, and purtect hisself ag'in any wild crittur,
from a stink-cat to a tiger."
"You're jawing," said Si; "otherwise I'd hold you to your bounce."
Abe took from his pocket a skin purse, tightly bound with a long thong,
unwound this, emptied out into his yellow hand, which shook with
excitement, two bright sovereigns.
"That ain't any wild cat tail money," he said; "it's the saving of sixty
years' hard work--and I stake that."
"What's the wager?" asked the chairman.
"That my ole goat proves to this yer club that Nature provides a way
outside of pizening by holding his own ag'inst anything on two feet or
four feet, 'cept a elephant or a steam roller."
"The club takes the bet," said the chairman, in a solemn voice and a
winking eye.
"Well; jes' take keer o' that money until your nex' meeting, when I'll
turn up with the ole Kapater. So long!"
"You'll lose that money, Abe," I said following him as he slouched away.
"It's a heap of money," he said; "a glittering pile that I been saving
up for my ole age."
"Call the bet off, Abe."
"You think the ole man's a blasteratious ijiot, sonny? Well, well!
maybe. Let him stand at that till nex' meeting."
In three months the meeting was called, and due notice served on Mr Abe
Pike and his goat. It was a full house that met in the drowsy afternoon
in the big shed on Mr Hockey's farm, and the discussion turned at once
on the disposal of Abe's money--the general opinion being that it should
be given back.
"I object," said Si Amos, who had brought with him a huge and hideous
half-breed between a boar-hound and a mongrel. "That ole man's been
throwing slurs on this club, and it's my opinion he ought to pay for it.
Anyhow, I'll `psa' my dog on to his goat."
Last of all, Abe Pike himself entered the shed, wearing an expression of
profound despondency.
"Anyone got a pipe of tobacco?" he said, looking around gloomily.
There was no tobacco hospitably forthcoming, everyone being too
disgusted at the thought that all the fun was off.
Abe leant wearily against the wall. "Time was," he said, "when a man
would hand you his tobacco bag as he said `Good-morning.' There's a
natural meanness in pizening animiles, and it's jes' oozing out of yer."
"Where's your goat, you old humbug?"
"Gentlemen, I'm very sorry, but that goat's woke up with a most awful
temper, and I jes' drop in t' ask you _voetsack_ all the dogs outer the
place 'fore I bring him in."
"Yah!" said Si Amos; "I knew he'd back down. It was part of the bet
that dogs was to be brought."
"That's so," said Mr Hockey.
"You won't turn out your dogs?"
"No sir! But this yer dog'll eat your goat, and I give you fair
warning!" said Si, stirring the big mongrel with his toe.
Abe looked round, gave me a wink, and went out.
When he reappeared he was leading one of the biggest goats--a great blue
"Kapater," with a long beard, massive horns, and a boss of leather and
brass over his forehead.
"Well I'm jiggered!" said one member, getting behind the table.
Someone--I don't know who the rash individual was--said "psa," and the
big mongrel stood up, showing his teeth and growling in his throat.
Abe smiled sadly, let go his hold of the goat, pinched his ear, and then
the great rout of the Poison Club began. The goat walked briskly up to
the dog, reared up, brought his head down, and sent the mongrel smash
under the table, where he remained whimpering; then in a brace, at a
whistle from his master, the unnatural billy cleared the shed with the
effectiveness of a battering ram. At the outset the strong man of the
country tried to seize him by the horns, but he evaded the grasp and
shot his massive enemy over a form; and when the others fled, he butted
them from behind so that each man flew out headlong, helping to swell
the struggling pile at the doorway. After this feat he amused himself
by reducing the table and chairs to splinters, then he came to the door
and stood scratching his ear with his left hind foot, while chewing the
remains of the minute book.
"Fetch me a gun," yelled Si Amos, with his hand pressed to his
waistcoat.
"What will you take for that thunderstorm, Abe?" asked Mr Hockey,
tenderly feeling his elbow.
"You don't want to buy him so's you can shoot him?"
"No; I want him as a watch dog."
"Well, seeing's how it's you, you can have him for a pair of blankets
and a bag of meal."
"It's a swap, Abe. What do you call him?"
"I calls him `Peaceful William.' I s'pose the club admits it's lost the
bet; 'cos, if not, William will purceed to further business."
"The bet's yours, Abe. Take the money, for Heaven's sake!"
"All right, then; I'll kraal the goat for you."
The goat was penned up, and Abe loaded his meal on to his horse and went
off.
The club watched the old man out of sight, each member absently rubbing
himself, and all of them remarkably silent.
"Oh!--'ell," said someone, in a tone of unmistakable dismay.
We all, as one man, faced round to the kraal, and then we simultaneously
skurried up to the barn roof. From this position of safety we saw
Peaceful William, in a shower of dust, carefully demolish the walls of
the pen and the poles that supported the thatched roof, and we fearfully
gazed down upon him as he walked steadily round and round the barn,
stopping at intervals to rear against the wall, to eye us threateningly.
I don't know when he left, but he was not there next morning, when, at
the break of day, Abe's voice greeted us.
"I thought I'd tell you Peaceful Billy is at my place; and he's there
when you care to fetch him. Fine sunrise, ain't it? Nice place to see
it from. Nature's better than pizen if you take her early."
There was a strange gurgling sound of suppressed laughter.
"I say!" It was Abe again.
"Well?"
"Goat fat 's mighty good for bruises! So long!"
"Darn you and your goat!" growled the chairman. "Boys, I vote we
descend to business."
We descended, and while we ate our breakfast the women of the house
giggled till they almost choked.