The Arkansaw Bear Part 5

[Ill.u.s.tration: THEIR CAMP-FIRE HAD DIED DOWN.]

"I tell you, Bo," he said excitedly, "we've made a fine start. By and by we will earn two or three times that much every day, and be able to start our bear colony before you know it."

The little boy fondled the coins over and over. They were the first he had ever earned.

"Ratio," he said at last, "don't you suppose when we get a lot of money--a big lot, I mean--we might give some to those people I used to live with?"

Horatio scowled.

"I thought you said they didn't treat you well and you had to run away."

"Yes, of course, Ratio; but then they were so poor and maybe they'd have been better to me if I had been able to earn money for them. They did take me out of the poor house, you know, and--"

"And you tried to get back again and got lost and fell in with me. Now you are sorry and want to go to them, do you?" and the Bear snorted so fiercely that the little boy trembled.

"Oh, no! Not for the world! I never was so happy in all my life, only I just thought--"

"Then don't think, Bo," interrupted Horatio, gently. "You are only a little boy. I will do the thinking for this firm. Now for a song, Bo, to soothe us."

So then they played and sang softly together while the moon rose and the fire died out, and the boy poured the money from hand to hand, lovingly.

"Bosephus," said his companion, as they paused, "were those people you lived with nice people? Nice fat people, I mean?"

"Not very. Old Mr. Sugget might have been pretty fat if he'd had more to eat, but Mis' Sugget wasn't made to get fat, I know. It wasn't her build."

"It was the old man that abused you, wasn't it?"

"Well, mostly."

"Knocked you about and half starved you?"

"Sometimes, but then----"

"Wait, please. I have an idea. When we get our bear colony started we'll invite this Sugget party to visit us. We'll feed him--all he can eat. By and by, when he gets fat--how long do you suppose it will take him to get fat, Bo? Fat enough, I mean?"

"Fat enough for what?" shivered Bo.

Horatio drew the horsehair briskly across the strings and looked up at the moon.

"Fat enough to be entertaining," he grinned, and began singing:--

"Oh, there was an old man and his ways were mighty mean, And he wasn't very fat and he wasn't very lean, Till he went to pay a visit to a colony of bears, Then you couldn't find a nicer man than he was, anywheres."

While the Bear played the little boy had been watching a slim, moving shadow that seemed to have drifted out from among the heavier shadows into the half-lit open s.p.a.ce in front of them. As the music ceased it drifted back again.

"Play some more, Ratio," he whispered.

Again the Bear played and again the slim shadow appeared in the moonlight and presently another and another. Some of them were slender and graceful; some of them heavier and slower of movement. As the music continued they swung into a half circle and drew closer. Now and then the boy caught a glimpse of two shining sparks that kept time and movement with each. He could hardly breathe in his excitement.

"Look there, Ratio," he whispered.

Horatio did not stir.

"Sh-h!" he said softly. "My friends--the forest people."

The Bear slackened the music a little as he spoke and the shadows wavered and drew away. Then he livened the strain and they trooped forward again eagerly.

Just then the moon swung clear of the thick trees and the dancers were in its full flood. The boy watched them with trembling eagerness.

A tall, catlike creature, erect and graceful, swayed like a phantom in and out among the others, and seemed to lead. As it came directly in front of the musicians it turned full front toward them. It was an immense gray panther.

At any other time Bo would have screamed. Now he was only fascinated.

Its step was perfect and its long tail waved behind it, like a silver plume, which the others followed. Two red foxes kept pace with it. Two gray ones, a little to one side, imitated their movements. In the background a family of three bears danced so awkwardly that Bo was inclined to laugh.

"We will teach them to do better than that when we get our colony," he said.

Horatio nodded without pausing. The dancers separated, each group to itself, the gray panther in the foreground. Spellbound, the boy watched the beautiful swaying creature. He had been taught to fear the "painter," as it was called in Arkansaw, but he had no fear now. He almost felt that he must himself step out into that enchanted circle and join in the weird dance.

New arrivals stole constantly out of the darkness to mingle in the merrymaking. A little way apart a group of rabbits skipped wildly together, while near them a party of capering wolves had forgotten their taste for blood. Two plump 'c.o.o.ns and a heavy bodied 'possum, after trying in vain to keep up with the others, were content to sit side by side and look on. Other friends, some of whom the boy did not know, slipped out into the magic circle, and, after watching the others for a moment, leaped madly into the revel. The instinct of the old days had claimed them when the wild beasts of the forest and the wood nymphs trod measures to the pipes of Pan. The boy leaned close to the player.

"The rest of it!" he whispered. "Play the rest of it!"

"I am afraid. They have never heard it before."

"Play it! Play it!" commanded Bo, excitedly.

There was a short, sharp pause at the end of the next bar, then a sudden wild dash into the second half of the tune. The prancing animals stopped as if by magic. For an instant they stood motionless, staring with eyes like coals. Then came a great rush forward, the gray panther at the head. The boy saw them coming, but could not move.

"Sing!" shouted Horatio; "sing!"

For a second the words refused to come. Then they flooded forth in the moonlight. Bo could sing, and he had never sung as he did now.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Music]

"Oh, our singing, yes our singing, all our friends to us 'tis bringing, For it sets the woods to ringing, and the forest people know

[Ill.u.s.tration: Music]

That we do not mean to harm them in their dancing, nor alarm them-- We are seeking but to charm them with the sounds of long ago."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INSTINCT OF THE OLD DAYS HAD CLAIMED THEM.]

At the first notes of the boy's clear voice the animals hesitated; then they crept up slowly and gathered about to listen. They did not resume dancing to this new strain. Perhaps they wanted to learn it first. Bo sang on and on. The listening audience never moved. Then Horatio played very softly, and the singer lowered his voice until it became like a far off echo. When Bo sang like this he often closed his eyes. He did so now.

The music sank lower and lower, until it died away in a whisper. The boy ceased singing and opening his eyes gazed about him. Here and there he imagined he heard a slight rustle in the leaves, but the gray panther was gone. The frisking rabbits and the capering wolves had vanished. The red and gray foxes, the awkward bears and the rest of that frolicking throng had melted back into the shadows. So far as he could peer into the dim forest he was alone with his faithful friend.