They came flying in pursuit.
The Light-Horsemen heard the sound of galloping feet behind them, and the rear-guard, turning his head, gave a howl of horror. The tables were turned; instead of lunching on Baby Jane, they themselves would now adorn the festive board. Wildly they thrashed the Light-Horse, but it was of no use, the galloping Lion was close upon their heels.
Then, as the sledge traveller throws out his companions one by one to the pursuing wolves, the Light-Horsemen began by throwing out Baby Jane.
In a moment she felt herself whisked into the furry arms of the Bear, and nursed and petted as gently as if it had been by Nurse herself.
When she felt better and looked round, the Cannibal Light-Horsemen had disappeared, and the Light-Horse was sitting on a stone fanning herself with a palm-leaf. As the Crocodile and the Lion, both looking quiet and sleepy, came up to inquire if Baby Jane was unhurt, the Bear, who was rocking her to and fro, whispered bitterly to them, 'Well, youarepigs. You might have left me alittleone.'
It was a long time before Baby Jane had any heart to play again. It was so nice to shut her eyes and sniff away the last trace of tears, lying contentedly against the silky coat of the old Bear.
But after a while she began to brighten up and to make friends with the Light-Horse, who was a nice animal, though she wore such a dreary expression.
'I daresay you are tired,' she said kindly; 'so Iwill tell you what we will do next. We will make a "Tableau Vivant." We shall only have to stay still in that.'
The creatures all were delighted with the idea, and the Bear retired once more to his treasure-store for odds and ends of clothes to dress up in.
'The Execution of Mary, Queen of Scots' was the subject chosen, and it was a dreadfully real and touching picture that they made.
The Bear was Queen Mary; his sweet, sad, resigned air, and his little lace handkerchief, wet with tears, would have moved any heart less stony than Queen Elizabeth's, but she sat in the background and smiled triumphantly.
The Crocodile was Queen Elizabeth—chosen for the part because her mouth was best for smiling.
The Rabbit, with his head tucked in and his legs out stiff, was the block, and the Piccaninny the executioner, with a horrid scowl and a large axe. Behind the Queen came her weeping ladies, the 'Queen's Maries.' Baby Jane, the Lion, and the Light-Horse were all 'Queen's Maries.' The Lion looked especially well with his mane done up in a chignon. He said he was Mary Beaton, and the Light-Horse was Mary Carmichael.
It was not till they had posed stiffly for a quarter of an hour that they remembered that there was no audience to tell them by the clapping of hands when it had had enough.
'Next time,' said the sharp Rabbit, 'we'll get a lot of tortoises and turn them on their backs so that they can't run away, and make them look on and clap.'
'But they will see everything upside down,' said the Lion.
'And we'll have to act on our heads to make it right,' said the Light-Horse gloomily.
'Oh, we won't bother about that,' said the inventor of the plan. 'They will be there just to clap, and they won't be turned right side up until they do clap.'
And this was the end of Baby Jane's lessons for that day.
CHAPTER III
SANTA CLAUS
They had just finished a hearty breakfast, of which home-made pineapple jam and the crisp, crusty rolls that grow on a certain palm had formed a part, when Baby Jane suddenly remarked:
'I do believe it's Christmas Eve!'
The creatures had no idea what that meant, but they knew when she spoke in that way there was more fun coming, and they eagerly crowded round her to hear about it.
'And now,' she went on, 'as it is Christmas Eve, to-night we must all hang up our stockings, and Santa Claus will come and fill them with presents.'
The creatures set up a shout of delight, and catching one another round the waist danced a wild polka round Baby Jane.
All of a sudden they stopped as if turned intostatues; a chilly silence fell upon them, and they looked aghast into each other's eyes. Then the Light-Horse, looking in her horror-stricken paleness more like a night-mare, whispered to Baby Jane, 'But we don't wear stockings!'
'Oh, that's all right,' she said; 'I will make something for you that will do. Santa Claus is an old dear, and will pretend to think that they are all real stockings. Bear, bring some woolly stuff from that store of yours, if you please!'
And then they all sat in a ring, contriving queer bag-shaped things and fitting them on—all except the Rabbit. He sauntered round for a while among the creatures picking up a bit of stuff here and another bit there, and then he disappeared behind a tree.
By-and-bye all the other animals were proudly marching around, each with one leg in a stocking, but it was some time before the Rabbit strolled up from behind his tree with his stocking wrapped round him like a plaid.
'Let us see it,' said Baby Jane.
With a slight blush and some hesitation the Rabbit laid it on the sand—it was big enough for a hippopotamus.
'Nonsense,' said Baby Jane severely; 'you can't wear that.'
'Oh,' said the Rabbit, 'you don't know how my toes swell when I've got chilblains!'
'You shouldn't try to cheat Santa Claus,' replied Baby Jane, and the Rabbit had to cut his stocking down.
It was now some time since tea, and growing dark. It was not an English Christmas Eve, with holly and snow, and darkness lit and warmed by cosy flickering fires, but it seemed to Baby Jane that at that time all over the world as the darkness deepens there spreads everywhere one same feeling of coming happiness growing and growing until, as the dawn breaks, a great loving kiss falls upon the poor world to comfort and bless it, so that it awakes with its heart full of warmth and joy on Christmas morning.
'Now, before we hang up our stockings and go to sleep,' said Baby Jane, 'we have got to go out and sing carols, and the people we sing to will give us hot things to drink, and cake.'
'Oh, will they?' said the Lion. He loyally believed everything that his mistress said, butknowing the folk who lived in this neighbourhood, he had his doubts of this.
'Now, whom shall we sing to?' she asked.
'Well,' said the Lion rubbing his chin doubtfully, 'there are the Ourang-outangs, a decent family—at least, now and then.'
'O'rang o'tang!' said Baby Jane. 'I can't say that word. I used to know some people called O'Flanagan; let us call them the O'Flanagans.'
'You are always so clever!' said the Lion admiringly. 'Well, let us go and sing to the Flanagans. They live in the third palm tree on the left in the riverside avenue.'
So they set off under the starlit sky, Baby Jane on the Bear's shoulder, and the others close round her, all practising their voices and all very merry.
It was rather undignified of the Lion to sing falsetto, but he seemed to fancy that he did it well, and so he kept it up—a shrill squeal that now and then broke down suddenly into his own deep roar.
When they were still some way from the riverside avenue they heard distant sounds of a terrible riot.
'I do hope it is not the Flanagans,' said Baby Jane.
But unfortunately itwasthe Flanagans. The screeching and hurrooing and thwack-slamming that was going on up that tree was marvellous.
Now and then down came a shower of cocoa-nuts and little Flanagans, but the little Flanagans went scuttling up the tree again to join once more in the fray.
Baby Jane was afraid and trembling, and longed to tell the Bear to gallop away with her; but that was not what she had come out to do, so she gathered her scraps of courage and said:
'Let us sing a carol: in the story-books bad people always turn good when they hear a carol'; and she struck up in a shaking voice, 'Heav'n rest you, merry gentlemen!'
And all the animals joined in—not properly of course, but still as each kept up one note—the Lion's falsetto rising high above the rest—it made a fairly good accompaniment to Baby Jane's tune.
After the first few notes the hullaballoo up in the palm tree ceased.
'Oh,' thought Baby Jane, 'it has made them gentle, and the story-books are right—oh, I am glad!'
But at that moment a storm of cocoa-nuts camepelting down upon them, and a voice exclaimed:
'Ah, it's no manners you have at all to come disturbing a decent family at this time of the night. Go away with you!'
And with that the riot began again.
'They all want to thrash little Patsey at once,' shouted the Lion in Baby Jane's ear; 'that is what they usually quarrel about.'
'Oh, how cruel!' she sobbed. 'I am going up to save him.'
And before any one could stop her, she was climbing up the tree with a skill only given her by her pity for little Patsey. The Light-Horse happened to be nearest to her, and though equally unused to climbing trees, up she went in hot pursuit of Baby Jane, with all the creatures after her.
The fight that followed, words will not describe. You must imagine for yourself a combat in the branches of a palm tree between a family of ourang-outangs and a lion, a light-horse, a bear, a rabbit, a crocodile, and two little mortals. Thrice were the invaders driven down the tree, and thrice, with Baby Jane and the Light-Horse in the van, theyscaled it again. But with that last attack came victory.
Up she went in hot pursuit of Baby Jane.
Disputing every inch of the branches, the Flanagans were forced back until they broke and fled.
Triumphant, though rather scratched and rumpled, Baby Jane rode off in triumph, bearing in her arms the rescued Patsey, who was a quaint little brown ape, all hands and feet, with bright inquisitive eyes.
All the way home they sang lustily, and then, having hung up their stockings—Patsey should share hers, said Baby Jane—with their little queen in the middle of them, they curled up and went to sleep.
It should be said that, now that the nights had grown more chilly, they slept in a hollow in a great bush, and had to crawl in by a narrow tunnel. So thick were the leaves and branches that neither rain, nor enemies, nor even sunlight, could enter through the roof, and the floor was carpeted with soft moss. The Lion always slept in the doorway.
·····
'A merry Christmas to you all,' said Baby Jane,as the new-risen sun shone straight down the tunnel, and she clapped her hands. Patsey, who had been nestling to her, clapped his hands and tried to say 'A merry Christmas.' That was his way. He would watch her with his head on one side, and thought it his solemn duty to do everything that she did.
The creatures all nodded and smiled and rubbed their eyes. Then some one said the word 'Stockings!' and there was a wild rush and then a joyful hubbub.
Every one wanted every one else to look at his presents and see how they worked. The Rabbit was the happiest of all. Though his stocking was empty there was a huge pile of presents underneath, for the reason that he had made it without any toes, so that Santa Claus had gone on trying to fill it up until he grew tired. The Rabbit did not seem a bit ashamed of his deceitfulness, and protested with indignant squeaks when Baby Jane picked him off his pile of ill-gotten gains by the ears with one hand and took as much as she could hold with the other and gave them to Patsey.
This was the only touch of unpleasantness.
Out of the presents each chose one favouriteplaything. The Light-Horse had a skipping-rope, and she and the Bear, back to back, soon steadily hammered the desert for a hundred skips at a time.
And even then the Light-Horse, calm almost to sadness, was ready for another cool hundred.
The Rabbit's favourite was a clockwork mouse, but unfortunately he used its powers for bad purposes.
Among the presents that Baby Jane had taken from the greedy Rabbit and had given to Patsey was a wooden Dutch doll, and it was the darling of Patsey's heart. Now the Rabbit cast jealous eyes on that Dutch doll, so while the others were playing he decoyed Patsey into a quiet place and then whispered in a tone of cold, cruel ferocity:
'The very worst pain in the world is to be gnawed by mad clockwork mice. Now you will give me back my Dutch doll, or I'll set my mouse on you!'
Patsey made no answer, but burst into a roar of terror and grief, and holding the doll above his head for safety, he pattered away as fast as his little legs could carry him.
After him, straight and swift as a motor-car, with a cruel gleam in its bead eyes, hissed theclockwork mouse, with the Rabbit racing behind, holding it by a string.
The Rabbit racing behind, holding it by a string.
But when Patsey already felt the mouse's whiskers tickling his legs, a strange thing happened. There was a click inside it and it suddenly wheeled round, and, to the Rabbit's horror, made straight forhim. He dropped the string and ran faster than he had ever run before, because, to his guilty conscience, it seemed that it was some spirit of Justice and not clockwork that propelled that mouse.
While this was going on, the Lion and the Crocodile were learning how to use their new roller skates upon a smooth hard patch of sand, and soon were swaying round and round like swallowson the wing. To see them link arms and, with the other hand on the hip, sweep along on the outside edge was wonderful, and Miss Crocodile's slender and flexible figure was shown to great advantage.
Miss Crocodile's slender and flexible figure was shown to great advantage.
Baby Jane and the Piccaninny also had the very presents they had wanted, but Baby Jane had no time to play with hers just then.
The creatures played with their things all the morning until the time for dinner, which was as fine as you ever saw. In fact, the only thing wanting was a sprig of holly to stick in the rich fruit of the plum-pudding plant. And the cooking? Oh, there is no difficulty about cooking in a place where you use your window-sill for an oven and where you only use dish-covers to keep the food from being burned.
After dinner, Baby Jane and the creatures prepared a fine Punch and Judy show, with living figures.
'Nobody but relations, or tortoises laid on their backs, will watch tableaux, but everybody likes a Punch and Judy show,' said Baby Jane.
By using palm-stems with bamboos tied across and draped, they built a very passable Punch's house, and soon all were crowded inside ready to bob up and act while Baby Jane did the squeaky talking.
It is wonderful how soon a crowd collects round a Punch and Judy show. Here in five minutes there were five hundred beasts and niggers seated in rows—all too curious and excited to think of eating one another. And at the last moment up came theFlanagans in a body and took front seats. For it was good-hearted souls that they were, and they bore no malice. Perhaps they were a trifle excitable—that was all.
The excitement reached its highest point when Joey the clown (Master Rabbit) outwitted Punch (Mr. Lion). The Policeman (Mr. Bear) and the Black Man (Master Piccaninny) had popped up and had been promptly knocked on the head, and then the wily Joey appeared and was apparently slain also—a dozen times Punch reckoned to have knocked the stuffing out of Joey, but each time that cunning rascal caused the Policeman or the Black Man to receive the whacks.
Then Punch began counting up his slain, 'One, two, three——'
'And four!' squeaked Joey, hitting Punch a sounding crack and laying him flat.
All this was as it should be, but when the much battered Bear and Piccaninny saw the Lion laid low, they arose and rushed at him and pummelled him until he roared again.
'Now we are going to do some of the hitting,' they said.
At this the Flanagans in the front row cheeredwildly, and would have stormed the stage and joined in the fight if the whole of the characters had not disappeared downwards with a jerk.
Then there was a great heaving of the curtains, and the sound of argument within.
'I don't believe that "Exit" is Latin for being jerked off the stage by the legs,' said a voice.
'If you don't behave, it will be Latin for being fed on dry bread-fruit for a week,' replied the voice of Baby Jane.
But soon afterwards the actors popped up again, though rather breathless and rumpled, and the rest of the show went splendidly to a triumphant close, and Baby Jane had to climb up and make a speech before the crowd would disperse.
'Ladies and Gentlemen,' she said, whereupon the audience, unused to being so addressed, cheered loudly; and then her feelings of joy and pride at the success of her Christmas effort to soften and teach these neglected creatures so overcame her, that she fell backwards on top of her company of actors, who bore her home in triumph.
CHAPTER IV
OLD JANIESv.JUNIOR OAKDENE ATHLETIC
'Do you know,' said the Lion suddenly to Baby Jane the next day, 'we are growing very fat.'
Puffed out his cheeks.
It was certainly true, though he took in a big breath and puffed out his cheeks to make it seem worse.
'Tableaux and Tom Tiddler's Ground don't give us enough exercise,' he went on.
This remark made Baby Jane sad and thoughtful.
'Oh, I wish I were a boy,' she said, 'and could teach you big rough games. No wonder you strong creatures think my girls' games silly; and you would be more fond of me if I were a boy.'
Then she hung her head and pinched a bit of silk out of the pattern on her frock.
All the other creatures glowered at the Lion for his stupidity, and he allowed all the breath to go out of him, and collapsed into a very mean, awkward-looking animal; but after a little shuffling he began bounding round the little girl with the wildest show of gaiety, licking her face and patting her with his paws to coax her to hold up her head and come for a romp. The other creatures gradually allowed their scowls to soften into grins, and joined in the dance.
Baby Jane turned away her head for a moment to rub her eyes, and then held out her arms and put them round the Lion's neck.
'Oh, you are dears,' she said, 'and I'll try hard to remember some big boys' game. I did use to crawl through the hedge and play football with theWilliamson boys in the next garden to ours, but it always ended so soon. They always used to charge me and knock me into the laurel-bushes, and then I used to run back crying with bruises on my legs, and my frock all earthy, and when I complained of them to Mother she used to punish me. That always happened. But I'll try to remember—I'll try to remember.'
She sat staring anxiously at the sky for some minutes.
'Yes,' she cried, 'I remember—oh, I am glad!'
'Now, you all go out and get a lot of animals to play against us—gently, mind!—coax them; tell them it is splendid fun—and I will teach you football.'
It was a very quaint set of animals that shyly allowed themselves to be led up. They were mostly ostriches and ant-eaters, with a sprinkling of elephants, hippopotamuses, and such-like.
But they grew more interested and less self-conscious when Baby Jane showed them how to fix up two posts at each end of the chosen ground, and explained how each side had to try to kick the ball between the other side's posts.
'And one side must be called the "Old Somethings,"' she told them, 'so we will be the "Old Janies," and the other side must be the "Junior Something Athletic," so you shall be the "Junior Oakdene Athletic," and that is all I know, except that one player must be called "full back," and another "left wing." Rabbit, you are our "left wing," and you, Lion, are our "full back."'
These two creatures flushed with pride to be picked out for these honours.
A little rattlesnake had wanted to play too, but he had no legs so they made him the umpire.
It was the sound of his rattle that began the game, and at that signal the two teams rushed upon the cocoa-nut—that was what they used for a ball.
The first to distinguish himself was an agile young elephant, who, with the ball before him, dodged in and out among the Old Janies with terrible skill, every moment getting nearer to their goal. At last only a few yards remained, and with agonised faces Baby Jane's team looked for the last fatal kick.
Then suddenly there was a squeak and a flash of brown fur. Struck full upon the chest, the Elephant went crashing down. The Rabbit had chargedhim with the dash and fury of a regiment of cavalry, and the goal was saved.
But no; not yet! On came the enemy again, and the Rabbit's splendid deed seemed all in vain. Struggling like heroes, Jane's men were forced back, until at last by sheer weight they were driven headlong into their own goal.
The Junior Oakdene Athletic raised a shout of triumph, but it died away in doubt and disappointment. The ball had disappeared, and there was nothing to show that they had sent it between Jane's goal-posts.
They made an anxious search all over the ground. Miss Crocodile seemed to think that it might be at the other end of the field, and she went there to look for it. Nobody thought it possible, and yet, when she had got within easy distance of the enemy's goal, there it was just under her nose. With a deft kick she shot it between the posts. The Old Janies had won a goal!
The Junior Oakdene Athletic did not take their misfortunes like men. Indeed, they said that Miss Crocodile had had the ball in her mouth all the time. But the enemy soon brought the ball backclose to Baby Jane's end of the field, and, in spite of the goal her side had won, the game seemed hopeless.
Then Baby Jane saw a gap in the ranks of the foe, and out she shot with the ball before her, and went scampering up the field with a puffing crowd at her heels.
And away on her right out shot the Rabbit, and keeping level with her at a distance of twenty yards, he scuttled desperately.
Whenever Baby Jane was pressed she neatly patted the ball to the 'left wing,' and when he felt two or three elephants and an ostrich or so close upon him he passed it back to her.
In a moment there was no one but the Junior Oakdene Athletic 'full back,' a burly Hippopotamus, to be passed. He went out to meet the Rabbit. There was a scuffle, and the Hippopotamus arose, alone, slowly and heavily, a very full back indeed.
Baby Jane stood as if frozen, and as pale as snow.
Her Rabbit gone? It was impossible. The world would be empty without the Rabbit.
Just as she had begun to be sure that he hadbeen eaten, the Hippopotamus put on a pained, choky expression, and opened his mouth a little.
Out popped the Rabbit's head and forepaws. Twisting round and resting the paws on the Hippopotamus's nose he poured upon that animal a shrill torrent of bad language, ending thus:
'Swallow me, would you? Ha, ha! I like that! I've burrowed in bigger hills than you before now, though in none so ugly. Swallow me! Why, for two pins I'd burrow back of my own accord, and make you believe that you had bolted twenty helps of crab and crumpets and cream.'
Here he made a pretence of darting back into the Hippopotamus's mouth, which so alarmed that animal that he gave a violent whistle, and out flew the Rabbit like a pea from a pea-shooter, and rolled far along the sand, which stuck to his damp fur, so that he arose like a little walking sand-pie.
All this while the Light-Horse was sitting unnoticed on the cocoa-nut in the middle of the Junior Oakdene's goal whistling a sad little melody to himself.
Two goals for the Old Janies!
At this the other team were so disgusted that they marched off the field and disappeared.
'I see trouble in the air,' said the Light-Horse, looking darkly from under her eyebrows. 'Since the fame of Princess Jane has spread around there have been stealthy gatherings, every day growing greater, in yonder Black Mountains. All the worst characters of the Desert are there. I heard mutterings among the defeated band. The triumph of the "Janies" this day will set a match to the powder. I see trouble in the air!'
'She wants her dinner, that is all,' said the others, and certainly at the sound of the word dinner, the Light-Horse looked much brighter.
The ending of the football match had made Baby Jane a little sad, but during dinner a happy thought struck her.
'This afternoon we'll go fox-hunting,' she said.
'Hurray!' shouted the creatures in chorus.
'Now, who will be my horse?' said Baby Jane.
All the creatures cried out at once. The Rabbit was the most eager of all. He left his place, and, rushing round to Baby Jane, humped his back and begged her to try him.
'The Rabbit had better be the "Fox,"' saidMiss Crocodile, with her mouth full (which, by the way, was saying a good deal). 'Why, he isn't strong enough to——'
'Strong!' squeaked the indignant Rabbit. 'Huh! I'll box any three of you,' and he put himself in a fighting attitude, and bounced up and down like an india-rubber ball in front of the creatures, who had now risen. With his palm-leaf bib flapping as he bounced he looked very absurd.
'Oh, no larks!' he said more gently. 'You can hunt my clockwork mouse if you like, but mind he doesn't turn nasty and huntyou!'
After a little persuasion, however, he consented to be the 'Fox,' and Miss Crocodile beguiled a dozen little nephews and nieces from the rivers, by the promise of an apricot each if they were good, to be the hounds.
It was a splendid afternoon, with little clouds, warmed by the yellow sunlight, romping like lambs across the blue sky-fields, and the sound of a pleasant wind in the shady palms.
The awkward affair of the football match was forgotten, and four eager steeds of various shapes pawed the ground, while Miss Crocodile's nephews and nieces were barking very respectably at theRabbit, who sat making faces at them from a little distance.
The Light-Horse had wanted to ride, but finally had to go alone on foot, wearing a sash to show that she was not a horse.
It was some time before Baby Jane could make the Rabbit start—he would try to be funny, but at last he set off.
Then from the huntsmen and horses there arose a thrilling shout, and a yapping from the pack as they streamed away after the 'Fox.'
Tally-ho! Hark, forward!
Now the little river appeared before them. Baby Jane was very much afraid the Rabbit would refuse to wet his paws by trying to jump it, but he took it bravely, and the nephews and nieces went splashing after him. Baby Jane upon the Lion gave a scream of delight as he cleared the brook with a mighty bound, like the flight of a swallow. The Light-Horse landed heavily beside them, and raced them neck and neck across the plain. Not far behind, the Bear and the Crocodile were also running a desperate race. Of course the terrible pace soon began to tire the nephews and nieces, and some of them sobbed loudly as they ran.
After a while the Rabbit, who had got some way ahead, had dived into a clump of trees, and they had no doubt that he was now galloping away on the far side, so they plunged in one after another.
Suddenly from behind a tree right in front of them there emerged an awful little bogey. It seemed to have enormous military moustaches, and upon its head was a wild wreath. The nephews and nieces at once went into hysterics, and the hunters collapsed backwards in a neat line like a set of dominoes—all shrieking horribly.
'Do you know,' said the Rabbit calmly—for it was he—taking the feathers out of his mouth and removing his head-dress, 'I'm getting rather tired of this game. I don't think it's so very good.'
But he had to cut short his remarks, for the hunters, horses, and hounds arose and rushed at him in a body, and continued the chase in grim earnest, Baby Jane leading on foot with a switch in her hand, and the Light-Horse and the Lion close behind her, in a state of boiling indignation.
By-and-bye they all stopped, out of breath, and noticed, for the first time, how near to the foot of the mountains their long hunt had taken them.
They felt tired, and the weather had nowchanged. Misty clouds, drizzling faintly, had come driving up on the wind, and had so wrapped themselves round the heights as almost to hide them. But now and then, when the wind tore the fleecy mist, Baby Jane could see a jagged mountain-top appear high up in the sky, where she had never expected it. These were the mysterious Black Mountains to which the Light-Horse had referred a little while ago. As they all looked, they recalled her words of warning, 'All the worst characters of the Desert are there.'
The lower slopes of the mountains were only dimmed and made grey by the drizzle.
There was something strange about them. Was that movement only the passing of the wind over the long grass? But the rivers of movement that flash across the grass go one way—the way of the wind—and in the strange greyness that clothed the hillside, there was a troubled swaying and eddying every way.
Then the wind held its breath for a moment, as if it, too, had caught sight of the strange thing, and out of the mountains a draught came creeping back, and bore with it the mingled wail and shriek and yell of ten thousand savage animals.
As they watched with their blood running cold and their hearts thumping heavily, the swirling greyness began to slide down the hillside towards them, and then a misty cloud dipped lower and hid it.
Most of the creatures were too frightened to know what to do—only the Lion, the Bear, and the Light-Horse remained calm. The Light-Horse, indeed, even took a gloomy pleasure in having prophesied truly.
As for Baby Jane, she squeezed herself close to the Bear, and, hiding her face in his fur, trembled and sobbed. She did not want to be a Princess any more. She wanted only to be protected.
'Bear,' said the Lion sharply, 'take her home. You others, keep round him. I'll come on behind. Now, with all your might, gallop!'
And so they went flying home, the Light-Horse with all the twelve nephews and nieces crowded upon her back.
It was a delicious comfort and relief to be once again in their great hollow bush, through which no enemy could break. They stopped up the entrance of the tunnel from within with branches and leaves, so that no one could guess that the bush was hollow.
Before Baby Jane went to sleep, nestling close to the Bear, she saw the Lion yawn and stretch himself, not as if he were tired, but as if to pull the twists out of his muscles to be ready for work, if need be. Then he went and lay down in the tunnel.
CHAPTER V
TWO NEW FRIENDS
Baby Jane was waked up by the Lion giving her a gentle lick on the cheek.
'We must pack up our luggage and be off early,' said he. 'I have looked out, and there is nothing in sight, but there was the sound of hundreds of stealthy footfalls round the bush in the night.'
Then he waked the others, and they set to work to pack up their belongings—there were all the Bear's belongings, and, of course, their toys.
While they were having breakfast—it was lucky that everything grew ready cooked, so to speak, and even the bread-fruit grew ready toasted in this very hot country—they held a council of war.
'We must go far away from the Black Mountains until we have got together a big army of beasts with good natures. Then we will comeback,' said Baby Jane, who was brave enough now that the sun was shining and no enemy in sight, 'and if the Black Mountain creatures won't be good, well, we shall have to make them.'
Whistling 'Lochaber No More.'
On they tramped, without speaking, all the morning, with their bundles on their heads, and the Light-Horse did not make matters more cheerful by whistling 'Lochaber No More,' breaking the sad tune now and then with a stifled sob.
It must be here remarked that this animal was now addressed as 'Mary Carmichael,' after the tragic part she had taken in the tableaux vivants, for to call such a dark and heavy-minded creature a 'Light' horse was absurd.
Later in the morning they were suddenly startled by a strange apparition that came up over a hillock towards them. They all made a rampart of their bundles and prepared for the worst, but it was nothing more terrible than a small costermonger driving a donkey in a barrow, piled full of bits of glittering rock. The donkey kicked violently after every two or three steps, and at every kick the barrow-load of stones rattled fearfully, and the small coster brought down a flat piece of wood on the donkey's back, and abused it in the rudest way.
'What ho, there!' squeaked the driver on his approach after the manner of the olden times. 'Where's the tent for the circus?'
'We're not a circus,' said Baby Jane indignantly, 'and you are much more odd-looking than we. What are you doing here?'
'Well, you see,' said he, 'the geranium business at home is overcrowded, and so Edouardo and I—his name in full is Edouardo de Frisky, because ofhis voice; there is a singer named that or something like it—have come out here and gone into the gold-mine business. There's a little gold-mine in the cart now; we gave one-and-tenpence for it, and we are going to sell it—all except the good parts—for sixpence a piece. I tell you it is better even than the strawberry business, with eight strawberries on the top and all the rest leaves. And what game are you playing?'
Baby Jane said she was not playing any game, and rather shyly explained her mission, expecting the little coster to jeer; but, though he was only moderately honest and very ill-mannered, he was a good-hearted little fellow.
'Now that's a fine thing to do,' said he warmly, 'and I'm your man. I'll tip the rubbish out of my barrow and come along with you.'
Then he added confidentially, 'But we might turn them into a circus afterwards and make a lot of money.'
And so Sammy and Edouardo joined the family, and they journeyed on together.
At first the other creatures looked askance at Edouardo, but after a while they found he was an animal of great character, and made friends withhim—all except Mary Carmichael, who chose to be jealous—but the Bear was his great chum.
Of course the barrow was a great delight to the party, but they were so eager to ride in it that they nearly broke it by all crowding in together. They took it in turns to put on the harness and pull, except the Rabbit, Patsey, and the Piccaninny, and they, not being able to take their turn in pulling, were not allowed to ride properly, but had to hang on at the back on the sly, until Miss Crocodile noticed them and cried 'Whip behind!'
The Lion was too much engaged with Edouardo to hear her, and so she had to slap them herself.
This seemed very unjust to the three, and Miss Crocodile's slaps hurt them still more, so they lagged some way behind and plotted together to be avenged on Miss Crocodile.
Of course, if Baby Jane had seen, she would have set things right, but she was walking on ahead with Sammy, discussing how they should collect an army, and planning new instruction for the creatures in the meantime.
They had got so far ahead as to be almost out of sight of the party in the barrow, who steered a very roundabout course, when they came upon ayoung but vicious-looking hippopotamus lying in wait behind a cactus bush—evidently a spy sent after them by the Black Mountain band. With its mouth wide open it made a rush at them, and Baby Jane in terror collapsed on the ground and covered her face. But the fierce brute had not considered that it had to reckon with an English boy, and with one who knew how to box.
She had to slap them herself.
Standing before the little girl in a skilful attitude of defence, as the hippopotamus came on, Sammychucked it under the chin, as it were, with all the strength of his arm, and down it went with a dull bump that shook the ground, the most surprised hippopotamus you ever saw. No second blow was needed; the beast rolled itself on to its feet, and muttering dreadful threats—quite indistinctly, for it had bitten its tongue in a painful way—rushed away across the desert towards the Black Mountains.
Sammy chucked it under the chin, as it were.
'You are a brave boy,' said Baby Jane softly, looking up at Sammy.
'Oh, it's nothing,' he said, but he turned very red with pride.
When the creatures came to hear of this deed they were all mad to learn how to box, so, at the halt for dinner, Sammy produced a set of boxing gloves and gave them lessons. After they were taught they practised among themselves. Then, as Baby Jane had feared, there was a squabble. No gloves could temper the hardness of Mary Carmichael's hoofs, and when, with an irritating sadness of expression, she hit the lion in the eye, that creature could stand it no longer. So they had to be forbidden to use their skill except against an enemy. Of course they all longed to do so, but the Rabbit was very wrong to do as he did. It was the act of a bully.
Searching about among the sandhills, he came upon a little duck squatting beside a pool, and without any reason whatever, for the duck was perfectly inoffensive, he made the most insulting remark, and, when the duck mildly retorted, he set upon it and pummelled it cruelly.
Luckily Baby Jane caught him in the act, and, picking him up by the scruff of his neck, gave him such slaps that his fat little ribs sounded like a drum.
When she set him down he rushed in a bad, sulky mood to his friends.
Now for some time Miss Crocodile had been dozing beside the barrow, for her arms were too short to protect her long nose, so that boxing was an unpleasant amusement for her. This was the three conspirators' opportunity.
A little later Baby Jane and the others, who were some little way off, were startled by the loud rattle of the approaching barrow and by wild, triumphant shrieks.
Then, with her eyes starting out of her head—even more than ever—Miss Crocodile, fully harnessed, went flying past, and behind, clinging together in the barrow, sat the three conspirators wild with excitement and delight.
They had slipped the shafts over her and harnessed her while she dozed. Then they perched in a row upon the seat, and when all was ready—one—two—three—and all together!—they brought a board down on the full length of her back with a clap like thunder.
Startled from her beauty-sleep, she sprang away like a hare, and scoured the plain in whirling circles.
Unluckily for the Rabbit and his friends, in one of these wild whirlings, the very pond beside which he had ill-used the duck suddenly appeared before them.