The Adventures of Diggeldy Dan

“Some day I may relate the happenings that fell to our lot between the heart of the woods and the great river’s edge,” continued Diggeldy Dan. “But I fancy you are just now most impatient to learn exactly what came to pass when Gray Ears and I reached our long journey’s end. So, suppose we all shut our eyes very tight, give a marvelous jump and, thus leaving the point where breakfast was had, land plump on the spot from whence I got my first glimpse of the tents that were to be my new home.

“The day was most done when, forcing his way through a thicket, Gray Ears emerged on a grass-covered ridge that reclined with its head in the woods and its feet at the brim of a river. The stream wound to the north and to the south, while just across it—and so very near the bank that one wondered the buildings did not tumble into the water—lay a city. And within the city—close by the edge that was nearest us—sprawled a great, billowing something of dazzling white. This something swayed gently in the sun’s lowering rays or waved to the breeze with its pennants and flags of yellow and blue. Yes, there it lay, quite as if it awaited our coming—the home of the biggest circus of all.

“‘And to-night, when darkness has come, we shall both cross the river and so reach the very rear of the tents,’ said Gray Ears, as his eyes followed mine over the face of the stream.

“‘Is it there we will cross?’ I asked, as I pointed toward a massive iron bridge.

“‘What! And meet no end of persons and things! Certainly not. I have a far better way. But we must bide our time and meanwhile gather a supply of long, trailing vines, the purpose of which you will learn later on.’

“So the last hour of the day was spent in searching the woods for vine branches, being careful to select only those that were well strung with leaves. By the time we had completed this task and returned to the ridge, darkness had fallen and the lights been set twinkling in the city and tents that lay over the stream.

“‘Now all is ready,’ said Gray Ears. And bidding me take the mass of vines in my arms, he put his trunk about my waist and lifted me—not to my place on his foot—but to the very tip-top of his head. And as I knelt there, with the vines between my knees and my hands clasping fast to the upper edge of his ears, the big fellow swung straight down the slope and walked smack into the river!

“So carefully did Gray Ears advance that his great feet made hardly a splash. I could hear only a soft, gurgling sound that came from where the current, suddenly meeting the side of what it probably mistook for a queer-fashioned rock, protested in some little surprise before slipping around the ends of it. Finally even this murmuring ceased. All movement seemed stilled. Looking about I saw that the whole of Gray Ears—not counting the top of his head and a part of his trunk—had become submerged in the depths of the stream. And so, while I perched in my place—quite as though I were voyaging on the back of a turtle—Gray Ears swam on.

“All went as it should until we reached the very middle of the river. Then a rowboat suddenly shot into view from the lee of a low, wooded island. Two men were in it—one at the oars and the other idly dangling a lantern from his place in the bow. It was headed straight for us. Even as I looked, the rays of the light fell full on my face. I quickly crouched down, but not before the man in the bow had caught sight of me.

“‘A clown! A clown! A sure-enough clown!’ cried he to the one at the oars. ‘Pull to just a bit. There! No, I have lost him.’ And he began to cast about with the lantern.

“Meanwhile I felt the tip of Gray Ears’ trunk pressed close to the side of my head. Grasping the end of it, I held it up to my ear while through it came a whisper in warning:

“‘Quick! Down on your knees—with one arm thrust in the air. We must escape them and their questions, for we cannot afford the delay!’

“Even as I obeyed I could feel the great trunk winding in and about me, and knew that Gray Ears was wrapping me round with the trailing ends of the vines!

“Meanwhile the man with the lantern was pointing it this way and that, while his companion kept insisting that he had seen nothing at all.

“‘But I did,’ he protested. ‘I saw the whole of his round, funny face and, believe it or not, he was sliding along on the top of the water.’

“At this reply the one who was rowing almost tumbled over with laughter. In doing so he loosed his hold on the oars so that the boat swung about and so almost bumped into Gray Ears and me.

“‘There goes an old log with a broken-off limb all covered with vines—how would it do for your clown who sits on the water?’ jeered the doubting one. And, he still poking fun and the other still looking, the two of them passed on, while we again took to our course, to finally land on the coveted shore.

“We found ourselves standing in what seemed to be a yard of considerable size and skirted on all but the river’s side by a very tall fence. To the right and the left were gigantic bunkers piled high with coal. Between these we advanced, but had gone scarcely three paces when we came face to face with a big, bearded watchman who carried a glaring white light in one of his hands and a knotted, black stick in the other.

“‘Hey, there!’ he cried. ‘You can’t come in here. It’s ’gainst the rules.’

“‘But, sir, we must do so,’ I pleaded. ‘We’ve just got to go on.’

“‘Got to nuthin’,’ retorted the man. ‘There’s orders writ plain as paint. Now you two gwan right back into the river.’

“And he turned his light on a huge board of white on which there appeared in very black letters:

“‘Yes,’ I cried, ‘but that can’t possibly mean us because we’re not persons but just Gray Ears and Diggeldy Dan.’

“‘Not persons, eh,’ repeated the watchman as he scratched his head, ‘Well, now, I don’t know about that—’

“‘Besides,’ rumbled Gray Ears, ‘you see the—’

“And he placed the nose of his trunk near the big watchman’s ear and whispered something I couldn’t quite hear.

“‘Oh!’ came the reply, ‘Oh, in that case—of course. Why in the world didn’t you say so at first!’

“While to my utter surprise, he hurried to the gates that led to the street, unfastened the lock and threw them apart with so much of a flourish that one might have supposed us a prince and his train.

“Through the opening strode Gray Ears and we were once more on our way. Long rows of warehouses as dark and as silent as the depths of the night now shut the Very Biggest Circus from view. But over the edge of their frowning black tops a warm, yellow glow lighted the face of the sky. And we knew that this came from the tents for which we were bound.

“Up street and down street the two of us went, meeting no one at all. And then, of a sudden, our path was beset by a burly policeman who seemed not one whit less than a whole half-mile tall. There he stood—twirling his moustache and his round, polished club, and whistling a tune from over the seas. But at sight of us he shut his lips with a start, brought his club to his side and, raising one hand, signaled an immediate halt.

“‘Stop!’ he commanded. ‘You cannot come down this street.’

“But Oh!—Mr. Policeman, we just have to,” I cried.

“‘Sorry, but this is a one way thoroughfare. Vehicles can’t move in the direction you are going. You’ll have to turn back.’

“‘Yes,’ argued I, ‘but Gray Ears isn’t a vehicle—he’s only an elephant.’

“‘Makes no difference,’ answered the policeman. ‘Orders are orders and no exceptions made.’

“And with that he began to twirl his club once again and to parade back and forth as if to guard the whole width of the street.

“‘But, you see, Mr. Blue-Coat,’ began Gray Ears. And he finished the sentence in a whisper with his trunk against the other’s right ear.

“‘O—o—oh!’ exclaimed the policeman. ‘Oh—why, go right ahead. Oh, I’m sorry to have delayed you.’

“While he actually stood at salute as we once more moved on our way! Determining to ask my companion very soon what it was he had said to the watchman and to the one in buttons and blue, I held fast to the big fellow’s ears and, peering ahead, awaited a glimpse of the tents. Then, turning a corner, we came into a street and there—away at the foot of it—lay the goal that we sought, all flooded with lights of amber and gold.

“At sight of the tents Gray Ears came to a stop in the shelter of a well-shadowed wall and, placing his trunk round my waist, lifted me from his head to the ground.

“‘Here, Friend Dan, we find ourselves at our journey’s end. A minute more and we shall have entered the great tent and you claimed the reward of finding and returning Gray Ears, the Elephant. It is then that you will take your place among the clowns and I go back to my station. We have had our holiday together and a right merry one it has been. Who knows—perhaps we shall one day repeat it again. In the meantime do not be surprised if I cease speaking to you. For, unless I am away from the circus, I rarely talk to anyone. Indeed you might spend months upon months with the Very Biggest Circus and yet never hear one of its animals utter so much as a word.

“‘And now,’ he added, in that business-like tone which he assumed at times, ‘let us decide upon the manner in which we will enter the greatest tent. First of all we will arrange the placard that I found tacked to the tree and which I believe you have in the top of your hat. Here is a stick of charcoal which I picked up in the coal yard as we passed through the gates. On the side of the card that is blank you must write in a very bold hand:

“Taking the marker I did as he wished.

“‘Excellent,’ approved Gray Ears. ‘This I will take charge of and display in proper fashion when we make our grand entrance. You, on your part, will stand on my back. Now then—up you go!’

“And with that I was swung into place. Next, Gray Ears wrapped the long, leaf-covered streamers around his neck and looped one of them well into his mouth quite as a horse wears a bridle and bit. Then he tossed me the ends which I wound around my wrists just as you have seen the driver of many horses do with the ends of his reins. Next I sprang upright on Gray Ears’ broad back. There I stood, feet apart, my head held erect, leaning backward and aslant, but kept well in place by the vine-reins that led from my ponderous mount’s mouth.

“‘Are you ready, Friend Dan?’ came the rumbling cry.

“‘Every bit of me,’ I called in reply.

“Then, not answering in words but with a trumpeted note of much triumph, Gray Ears moved forward while I, my suit flapping in the breeze brought about by his speed, lay back on the reins much as the driver of a thundering chariot rests upon his, and wondered and waited and watched.”