The Island of Gold: A Sailor's Yarn. Stables Gordon

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СКАЧАТЬ out towards them, the head on one side and listening, the next moment erect as a bear pole, and seeming to look surprised and angry at what he heard them saying.

      Bob had rushed to see about the setter. He lay down at some distance off, with his nose between his paws, and the setter set, and finally sat.

      “Not a yard nearer, Mr Sportsman, if you please,” said Bob; “I’m a rough ’un to look at, and a tough ’un to tackle. I suppose you call yourself a gentleman’s dog; you live in marble halls, sleep on skins, and drink from a silver saucer. I’m only a poor man’s doggie; I sleep where I can, eat what I can get, and drink from bucket or brook. But I love my master maybe more than you love yours. Yonder is my home, and yonder is our cat in the door of it; but my humble home is my master’s castle. Just try to come a yard or two nearer, if you’re tired of your silly life.”

      But Dash preferred to stay where he was.

      Murrams the cat behaved with the utmost dignity and indifference. He sat in the doorway washing his face, with dreamy, half-shut eyes. To have seen him you would have said that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, so cool was he; yet if Mr Dash had come round that way, Murrams would have mounted his back and never ceased clawing the dog till he had ridden him half a mile at least from Hangman’s Hall.

      It wasn’t, however, until the visitors had taken their departure that the grand jubilee commenced.

      “They’re gone!” said Bob, running up and licking the pussy’s ear. “That’s a jolly good job!”

      “They’re gone!” said pussy in reply, as he rubbed shoulders with Bob.

      “They’re gone!” cried the crane, hopping madly round the pair of them.

      And as she nestled closer in her brother’s arms, Babs sighed and said just the same thing.

      “Hurrah!” cried Ransey Tansey; “let’s run off to the woods.”

      “Let’s wun off to ze woods at wance,” echoed Babs.

      Had little Eedie seen Ransey five minutes after this, I question whether she would have pronounced him the prettiest boy she had ever known.

      Ransey was himself again, old shirt, ragged pants, and all.

      I think that the children and Bob, not to mention the gallant Admiral, enjoyed themselves that afternoon in the woods as much as ever they had done in their young lives.

      Babs insisted on taking her ragged old dolly-bone with her, and leaving the new one at home upside down in a corner.

      Well, Ransey fished for just an hour, but had glorious luck and a good string to take to Mrs Farrow. This was enough, so he put away his rod, and read some more horrors to Babs from “Nick o’ the Woods.” The torture scenes and the scalping took her fancy more than anything else.

      So Ransey Tansey invented a play on the spot that would have brought down the house in a twopenny theatre if properly put on the stage.

      He, Ransey Tansey, was to be a wild Indian, Babs would be the white man, Bob the bear, and the Admiral the spirit of the wild woods and ghost of the haunted cañon.

      The play passed off without a hitch. Only Ransey Tansey himself required to dress for his part. This he did to perfection. He retired to a secluded spot by the river’s bank for the purpose. He divested himself of his pants and his solitary suspender. These were but the evidences of an effete civilisation. What could such things as these have to do with the red man of the wild West, the solitary scalp-hunter of the boundless prairie? But a spear and a tomahawk he must have, and these were quickly and easily fashioned from the boughs of the neighbouring trees. He tied a piece of cord around his waist, and in this he stuck his knife, open and ready for every emergency. He fuzzed up his rebellious hair, and stuck rooks’ feathers in it; he thrust his feet into the darkest and grimiest of mud to represent moccasins, and streaked his face with the same.

      When enveloped in his blanket (the big shawl) he stalked into the open in all the ghastliness of his wur-paint, and said “Ugh!” He was Ransey Tansey no longer, but Chee-tow, the Red Chief of the Slit-nosed Indians.

      On beholding the warrior, Babs’s first impulse was to scream in terror; her next – and this she carried out – was to roll on her back, her two legs pointing skywards, and scream with laughter.

      “Oh,” she cried delightedly, “’oo is such a boo’ful wallio! (warrior); be twick and tell somefing.”

      For the time being Babs was only the audience. When she became an actor in this great forest drama she would have to behave differently.

      And now the red chief went prowling around, and presently out from a bush darted a grizzly bear.

      The bear was Bob.

      Chee-tow uttered his wildest war-cry, and rushed onwards to the charge.

      The grizzly held his ground and scorned to fly.

      “Then began the deadly conflict,

      Hand to hand among the mountains;

      From his eerie screamed the eagle (the crane)

              …the great war-eagle,

      Sat upon the crags around them,

      Wheeling, flapped his wings above them.

* * * * *

      “Till the earth shook with the tumult

      And confusion of the battle.

      And the air was full of shoutings,

      And the thunder of the mountains

      Starting, answered ‘Baim-wa-wa.’”

      This fierce fight with the terrible grizzly was so realistic that the audience sat silent and enthralled, with its thumb in its mouth.

      But it ended at last in the victory of the red chief. The bear lay dead, and the first Act came to a close.

      In Act Two an Indian maiden has been stolen, and borne away by a white man across the boundless prairie to his wigwam in the golden East. The red chief squats down on the moss with drooping head to bewail the loss of his daughter, during which outburst of grief his streaks of war-paint get rather mixed; but that can’t be helped. Then the spirit of the wild woods appears to him – the ghost of the haunted cañon (that is, between you and me, the Admiral comes hopping up with his neck stretched out, wondering what it is all about) – and whispers to him, and speaks in his ear, and says: —

      “Listen to me, brave Chee-tow-wa,

      Lie not there upon the meadow;

      Stoop not down among the lilies,

      Lest the west wind come and harm you.

      Follow me across the prairie,

      Follow me across the mountains,

      I will find the maiden for you,

      The maid with hair like sunshine,

      Who has vanished from your sight.”

      So Chee-tow gets up, seizes his arms, and follows the spirit, who goes hopping on in front of him in a very weird-like manner indeed.

      Meanwhile Babs, knowing her part, has hidden herself in a bush, and in due time is led back in triumph as the white man who stole the maiden. He is tied to a tree, scalped, and tortured. Then a fire is lit, and thither the white man is dragged towards it СКАЧАТЬ