Again, when the two captains were racing after the ball, the I rooters shouted: "Grace! Don't go over the line!" And, though Grace knew she was not near the line, she glanced nervously over her shoulder and lost the ball. In like manner they advised the struggling guards to pick up their feet when they ran, and asked nervous fieldsmen why they left their aim up-stairs. Except for the brief flurry with the fieldsman, Helen had taken no part in the game, and was several times entreated not to exert herself so much. And loud above the turmoil the megaphones bellowed the team yells: and "Hoop-la, hoop-la, sis-cum-bi! Give three cheers for I! I! I!" I's magnanimously forbore to cheer, for Grace was universally popular. But they made no effort to restrain their joy when by chance the ball fell into Helen's hands. "Oh, look who 's got it!" they shrieked. "Watch it hit the pole and bounce!" But it went into the basket. If one of the poles had walked off the field, there would hardly have been a greater sensation. As in the poem of Horatius: "No sound of joy or sorrow was heard from either side. "BUT IT WENT INTO THE BASKET." Then the U's shouted encouragement, and the I's proclaimed: "An accident! Send for an ambulance!" Meanwhile Helen quietly waited till the ball came into her hands again. In vain the I's used her own phrase and urged her to "wait a minute"; in vain they cried in horrified tones: "Oh, don't put the ball into the basket!" Unhurried and unruffled, Helen stood and calmly caught the ball and calmly put it into the basket. Then the U's realized that what had seemed a lucky accident was really a permanent miracle, and played with renewed vigor. On the other hand, the I's, appalled by this unexpected strengthening of their opponents' weak point, grew nervous and played wildly. The U players began to score; the U rooters began to sing: "I Cannot Win the Game Now, I Lost It Long Ago." A few more minutes of brisk playing, and then, in a tense silence which included even the rooters, Helen put the ball into the basket and the game was won for U. The players cheered, the megaphones bellowed, the spectators shrieked, and, rising, poured down into the field and mingled with the teams. And in the general uproar Helen oozed quietly out of the crowd, as placid as usual, and proceeded upstairs to her room. But before she had time to change her dress, she heard the sound of flying footsteps. The next minute Grace was embracing her violently, and crying and laughing and talking all at once in happy excitement. "Oh, Helen! you 're a darling, and I'm horrid, and you 're not lazy and selfish!" Grace took one breath and raced on. "Miss Carr has just told us how she 's seen you practise every day, and you won the game when I 'd lost it-and I'm awfully sorry I 've been so mean- and now I can go to the wedding-but I forgot! The president is going to give us the new ball, and the team wants you to receive it; and all the people, and the president, and the entire faculty, are waiting! Oh, hurry! hurry!" But Helen was re-tying her hair-ribbon. "Wait a minute," said Helen. AWAY down in the heart of the jungle where the trees are the thickest and the shade so dense that the rays of the sun seldom find their way through, there lived an immense family of elephants. There were grandfathers and grandmothers, fathers and mothers, uncles and aunts, and elephant children of all ages and sizes, from those almost grown, eight or nine feet in height, to the smallest babies not over three feet in height. They all roamed about in one band led by an elephant cow. She would wander on in advance in scent of impending danger, rolling her little round eyes about cautiously, flapping her huge ears, and sniffing the ground with her sensitive trunk. The others would stroll along after her, leisurely plucking grass and tender boughs. They were very happy here in their vast green jungle home with its cool rivers and shady retreats. The children would romp and play together as all children love to do, whether colts, kittens, puppies, or boys and girls. They would roll on their backs in the soft earth kicking their heels in the air, or run and frisk about among the trees. Their mothers would warn them not to play in the sun, for elephants always shun the sun. Sometimes a grandfather would get tired of family life and stalk off alone on a tour of exploration into the jungle, remaining often two or three months. But he would always come sauntering back home, sooner or later, ready to resume his family cares. All elephants love to bathe, and the whole band were fine swimmers. They used to plunge into the water whenever they came to a river or lake, and swim far out beyond their depth. Sometimes they would lie in the water for hours, shutting their eyes in pure ecstasy as they felt the cool waves creeping up over their huge sides. Then they would turn their trunks into a hose and spout water over their backs and heads. On the whole, this huge family got on very well together, although there were sometimes disputes. Even the old grandfathers used to fight sometimes, and they surely should have known better. However, if one of the band got into trouble-fell into a hole or anything of that sort the others were always ready to help him. They were, like all elephants, by nature very gentle, timid even, and feared everything that was new and strange. One day, when they were strolling quietly along in search of tender leaves and grass for their dinner, the elephant cow in the lead suddenly trumpeted an alarm so loud and fierce that it was heard by the farthest members of the band. They all hurried to see what was the matter, flapping their great ears and flourishing their trunks wildly as they ran. They found her cautiously examining two long parallel rails of white shining steel that crossed their path and extended as far as the eye could see in both directions. "Now whose work can this be?" she asked them, sniffing at the shining rails with distrust. "Not the tiger's," answered one, in turn sniffing at the rails. "Nor the monkey's," "Nor the panther's," "Nor the chetah's," "Nor the deer's," "Nor the python's," "Nor the jackal's," began the others, naming over all the jungle creatures one by one. "Then it must be man's!" said a wise old grandfather. At this, a chill ran right down the spine of every one of those huge creatures. Not one of them had ever seen a man, but they had heard rumors of him, of how he killed the jungle creatures for the pleasure of killing, or captured them, making them work for him or shutting them up in cages. So they set to work furiously tearing up the rails and throwing them away. They had no sooner begun than there sounded throughout the jungle a shriek, shrill and piercing, and a great TAME ELEPHANTS BELONGING TO THE MAHARAJA OF MYSORE. monster like a giant python came gliding along the rails toward them at a tremendous speed, shrieking and snorting and belching out fire and smoke. They stood terrified in its path for a moment, unable to move, then broke into a wild stampede. Some ran about aimlessly, others charged at the on-coming foe. When the monster caught sight of them, it behaved in a most amazing manner-suddenly slowing down and stopping just before it reached them, then gliding back along the shining rails and disappearing noiselessly into the jungle. They looked after it and flapped their ears in astonishment. Then they plunged back into the heart of the jungle, where man had never penetrated. "So man is like the python, only much larger and much more terrible," said a young elephant cow, shivering at the recollection of that awful apparition. "Did you see his eyes of fire and his hideous black teeth?" "But for all that, man is a coward," said a swagger young tusker. "He ran away without fighting!" A wise old grandfather gave a grunt and winked his eye. "That was not man," he told them. "Man is so small that he could sit on one of my tusks, but he is so clever that he could make me work for him all my days. That was one of his inventions." "Then man's invention is a coward! Why did it run away?" asked the young tusker. The wise old grandfather wagged his head knowingly and answered: "It went to bring man." Then a chill ran along the spine of every elephant there. And sure enough, one day when the herd had scattered far and were quietly grazing in little groups, the wind carried them a strange, unfamiliar scent. Man! Instinct told them that it was man! Fires and strange dancing lights appeared in the distance, accompanied by wild shouts, the beating of drums, and the clanging of harsh, discordant instruments. Crash! The frenzied elephants charged through the jungle from every direction and huddled together in a swaying, trumpeting mass. Stowed away between the feet of their parents, the babies squealed and stamped. Nearer and nearer closed in the terrifying lights and noises. Through the trees the elephants caught confused glimpses of dancing, brownskinned figures, beating drums and brandishing torches. At last they had seen man! Small as he was compared to them, they were quite as afraid of him as are some very big people of such little creatures as spiders, mice, and snakes. Infuriated, some of the cows charged in the direction of their tormentors, but these were too agile for them. Whenever they would dash at a danIcing torch, it would disappear, only to reappear in another place. The beaters kept themselves well under cover of the trees and tall grass. Suddenly all became quiet. The elephants were just beginning to think that man had run away again without fighting, when the tumult broke out fiercer than ever. The frightened animals looked about in terror for a way of escape. On one side all was peaceful. They made a rush in this direction. But however fast they ran, the mysterious lights and sounds followed them, al ways the same distance away. Day after day this continued, till the band ceased to have great fear of their strange pursuers; but the tumult harassed them, so on they plunged, hoping to outdistance it. How they longed for the peace and stillness of their home in the heart of the jungle! Often they found their way cut off by fires. But when they turned to the right or left, they were sure to find an opening. "Man is not so clever as I!" said the swagger young tusker that had called man a coward. "He always forgets to guard one place or another. We escape him every time!" The wise old grandfather answered never a word. He shook his head sadly as he stalked along, and a great tear ran down his trunk. One day, after about a fortnight, the fires and noises became more tantalizing than ever before, and closed in, leaving only a narrow passage. The poor animals plunged through this, weary, jaded, harassed. Then the tormenting lights and sounds suddenly ceased. Man disappeared as unexpectedly as he had appeared. But the wise old grandfather continued to shake his head. |