The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings Part 14

As he gained the entrance between the two large tents he saw the silk curtains at the far end of the circus arena fall apart, while a troop of gayly caparisoned horses and armored riders suddenly appeared through the opening.

The grand entry was beginning.

"Gracious, here the show has begun and I am not anywhere near my seat," he exclaimed. "But, if I am going to be late I won't be alone. There are a whole lot more of us that were too much interested in the animal trainer to think to come in and get our seats. I guess I had better run. I--"

Phil started to run, but he got no further than the start.

All at once his waist was encircled in a powerful grip and he felt his feet leaving the ground. Phil was being raised straight up into the air by some strange force, the secret of which he did not understand.

CHAPTER VIII

IN THE SAWDUST ARENA

The lad repressed an inclination to cry out, for the thing that had encircled his waist and raised him up seemed to be tightening about him.

A familiar voice just behind him served to calm Phil's disquieted nerves.

"Don't be frightened, kid. It's only Emperor having a little joke. He's a funny fellow," said the elephant's attendant.

Phil had read somewhere that elephants possessed a keen sense of humor, and now he was sure of it. But he never thought he would have an opportunity to have the theory demonstrated on himself.

The elephants were on their way to partic.i.p.ate in the grand entry, and there was not a minute to spare now. Emperor on his way into the other tent had come across his new-found friend and recognized him instantly, while Phil had not even heard the approach of the elephants.

No sooner had the elephant discovered the lad than he picked him up with his trunk, slowly hoisting the boy high in the air.

"Steady, Emperor! Steady!" cautioned the attendant. But Emperor needed no admonition to deal gently with his young friend. He handled Phil with almost the gentleness of a mother lifting a babe.

Phil Forrest experienced a thrill that ran all through him when he realized what was taking place.

"We can't stop to put you down now, my boy. You'll have to go through the performance with us. Grab the head harness when he lets you down on his head. You can sit on the head without danger, but keep hold of the harness with one hand. I'll bet you'll make a hit."

"I will if I fall off," answered Phil a bit unsteadily.

As it was, the unusual motion made him a little giddy.

"That's a good stunt. Stick to him, Forrest," directed a voice as they swept on toward the ring.

The voice belonged to Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show. He was quick to grasp the value of Phil's predicament--that is, its value to the show as a drawing card.

By now the people began to understand that something unusual was going on, and they asked each other what it was all about.

"It's Phil Forrest riding the elephant," shouted one of the lad's school friends, recognizing him all at once. "Hooray for Phil!"

There were many of the pupils from his school there, and the howling and shouting that greeted him made the lad's cheeks burn.

But now, instead of wanting to crawl under something and hide, Phil felt a thrill of pleasure, of pride in the achievement that was denied to all the rest of his friends.

The inspiring music of the circus band, too, added to his exhilaration. He felt like throwing up his hands and shouting.

Suddenly he felt something tugging at his coat pocket, and glancing down gave a start as he discovered the inquisitive trunk of Emperor thrust deep down in the pocket.

When the trunk came away it brought with it a lump of sugar that Phil did not know he possessed. The sugar was promptly conveyed to the elephant's mouth, the beast uttering a loud scream of satisfaction.

"Emperor, you rascal!" laughed Phil, patting the beast on the head.

Once more the trunk curled up in search of more sugar, but a stern command from the trainer caused the beast to lower it quickly. The time for play had pa.s.sed. The moment had arrived for Emperor to do his work and he was not the animal to shirk his act. In fact, he seemed to delight in it. All elephants work better when they have with them some human being or animal on which they have centered their affections. Sometimes it is a little black and tan dog, sometimes a full-grown man. In this instance it happened to be a boy, and that boy Phil Forrest.

"Waltz!" commanded the trainer.

If Phil's head had swum before, it spun like a top now. Round and round pirouetted the huge beasts, keeping in perfect step with the music of the band, and tighter and tighter did the lad grip the head harness of old Emperor. Phil closed his eyes after a little because he had grown so dizzy that he feared he would fall off.

"Hang on, kid. It'll be Christmas by and by," comforted the trainer humorously.

"That's what I am trying to do," answered Phil a bit unsteadily.

"How's your head?"

"Whirling like a merry-go-round."

He heard the trainer chuckling.

The spectators were shouting out Phil's name all over the big tent.

"Fine, fine!" chuckled James Sparling, rubbing his palms together. "That ought to fill the tent tonight."

The spectators realized, too, that they were being treated to something not down on the bills and their shouts and laughter grew louder and louder.

"Do you think you could stand up on his head?" came the voice of the trainer just loud enough for Phil to hear.

"Me? Stand on the elephant's head?"

"Yes. Think you can do it?"

"If I had a net underneath to catch me, maybe I'd try it."

"Emperor won't let you fall. When I give the word he'll wrap his trunk around your legs. That will hold you steady from the waist down. If you can keep the rest of yourself from lopping over you'll be all right. It'll make a hit--see if it don't."

"I--I'll try it."

"Wait till I give the word, then get up on all fours, but don't straighten up till you feel the trunk about you. We'll make a showman of you before you know it."

"I seem to be the whole show as it is," grumbled Phil.

"You are, just now--you and Emperor. Good thing the other performers are not in the ring, or they would all be jealous of you."

"I wish Uncle Abner could see me now. Wouldn't he be mad!"

grinned Phil, as the memory of his crabbed relative came back to him. "He'd come right out after me with his stick, he'd be so angry. But I guess Emperor wouldn't let him touch me," decided the boy proudly, with an affectionate pat to which the elephant responded with a cough that sounded not unlike the explosion of a dynamite cartridge.