SHIN SHIRA AND THE MAD BULL
The Verrinder children were in a state of great excitement and glee, for we were going to spend the day at Burnham Beeches.
The plan was to drive over in a wagonette and have a picnic under the trees in the middle of the day.
Lionel was amongst the party, and Lady Betty, a young friend of the Verrinders, so that we were a merry crowd as we scrambled into the wagonette.
"It doesn't matter about your being old," said Fidge, snuggling up to me and catching hold of my arm; "you're not like most grown-ups, and don't mind us larking about a bit."
"I hope not," I said smilingly.
"Besides, he isn't old," chimed in Lady Betty, "at least not very," she qualified. "He hasn't even got a beard, and if he wasn't a little bit grown-up he couldn't afford to take us about," she added practically.
"I expect we'll have some jolly decent grub," I heard Dick whisper to Lionel. "Mrs. Putchy makes ripping pastry. I know, because we used to stay at his place sometimes before you came."
Marjorie looked up from her book and smiled and nodded across at me. "It's lovely," she said, as we drove along. "We're going to have a perfectly splendid day."
We were sitting three aside, and there was just comfortable room for us; and when we had got well into the country I began to tell the younger ones, Fidge and Lady Betty, a story. Marjorie closed her book too and leaned forward to listen, but the two big boys, evidently considering it infra dig. to listen to anything so childish, were eagerly comparing school experiences. Dick was at Harrow and Lionel at Marlborough, so they had a lot to talk about.
Presently, in the middle of my story, Marjorie called out, without looking up, "Move further along, Dick, don't crowd so."
"I'm not!" retorted Dick, "it's you. I can't move any further without crowding Lionel out of the trap."
"Oh, it's this cushion," cried Marjorie, turning about and trying to remove what looked at first like a yellow silk cushion beside her.
It was evidently too heavy though, and she gave a start as she touched it. "Why!" she exclaimed, "it's got something alive in it!"
We all turned around to see what she meant, and at once I knew that it was Shin Shira appearing.
"Oh, jolly!" cried all the children but Lionel, when I explained to them what was happening.
"It's all very well, and he's good fun and all that," said my young cousin, "but if you'd had the experience that I had with his old Magic Carpet, you'd be very careful not to have much to do with him—he's rather dangerous."
"But think of the adventures you have with him," said Dick enviously. "I wouldn't funk it if he asked me to go anywhere with him."
"Who's funking it?" demanded Lionel angrily.
"Well, you didn't seem to have much desire to repeat your experiences, my friend," laughed Shin Shira. "My head and ears just happened to arrive in time for me to gather that."
Lionel turned very red. "Oh well, sir, I did have rather a rough time on the Magic Carpet, you know."
"So you did, so you did," agreed Shin Shira, amiably beaming on us all. "And where may all you young people be off to this fine day?"
"We're having a picnic," said Lady Betty shyly.
"Going to have, you mean," corrected Fidge. "It isn't a picnic till you begin to eat, you know."
"Would you mind if I joined you?" asked the Yellow Dwarf, appealing to me.
"Well, it strikes me that you have done so," I laughed; "but we shall be delighted with your company if you care to stay."
"That's all right then," said Shin Shira, settling down comfortably; "there's nothing I should like better this warm day," and he took off his turban and rubbed his little bald head with a yellow silk handkerchief.
The sight of the jewel in it reminded him to ask me what became of the two bags of diamonds he left in the basket of the balloon when he disappeared on our way back to Baghdad.
I told him what had happened, and how I had lost all of mine except the few almost worthless ones which I had put in my pocket.
"I was rather more fortunate," said Shin Shira, "for amongst those which I saved were one or two very valuable ones, and several more which I can sell at a very good price when it becomes necessary."
"But I thought you could have whatever you wished for?" said Dick.
"Oh no," replied the Dwarf, "not money, you know—almost anything else, but not money, because, you see, it wouldn't be legal to make money, and I can tell you I have often found it very awkward to have appeared in a strange place with no money at all in my pocket. I have indeed once or twice almost been tempted to sell even the jewel which the Princess gave me. Now fortunately that will never be necessary."
"What part of Burnham Beeches do you wish me to drive to, sir?" asked the coachman at this moment; "we're just coming to the village."
"Oh, you'd better put the horses up at the stables, and get a man to help you with the hampers, and we'll walk on to the wood. You know where I generally have luncheon."
"Very well, sir!" said the man, touching his hat with his whip and stopping at the old-fashioned inn in the village.
We were all very glad to stretch our legs after the long ride, and having had some lemonade and fruit at a little shop in the High Street, we quite enjoyed the walk up to the wood.
Here under the trees in a beautiful spot we sat down to wait for the men with the hampers.
After waiting for some time with growing impatience, our coachman turned up with a rueful face.
"There ain't no hamper, sir," he said.
"What?" I exclaimed. "No hamper! What do you mean?"
"There ain't no hamper in the trap, sir. I didn't have it up in front, so I thought you had it in with you. Do you think it's fallen out, sir?"
"By Jove, sir!" cried Lionel suddenly, "it's my fault. You told me to see that the man put the hampers on in front, and I clean forgot all about it."
If it hadn't been such a serious matter it would have been highly amusing to watch the blank dismay depicted on every face on hearing this disastrous news.
"What on earth are we to do?" exclaimed Dick, with almost tragic concern.
"There's only one thing to be done, I suppose," said I resignedly, after sending the man away; "we shall have to return to the village and have our luncheon at the inn."
"It won't be a picnic at all then," pouted Lady Betty ruefully.
Shin Shira was the only one who did not seem distressed about the matter. He had seated himself cross-legged on the ground under one of the old Beeches, and was slowly turning over the leaves of the little yellow book fastened to his belt with a golden chain, which he always wore.
"I think I can be of some assistance to you here," said he, getting up after a time and coming towards me. "Has anybody some paper and a pencil?"
This seemed a strange request at such a moment, but between us we managed to find what he asked for.
The Dwarf suddenly tore the paper into seven parts, handing us each one and keeping one for himself.
"Now," said he, "each of you write on the piece of paper the name of something you would wish for luncheon."
He handed me the pencil first, and just for fun I wrote "Lobster salad."
Marjorie wrote "Game pie."
Dick thought that "Pies and tarts and plenty of them" was a suitable thing to ask for.
Lionel could imagine nothing more to be desired than "Ham and tongue sandwiches."
Lady Betty wanted "Fruit and nuts," and Fidge, after various painful attempts, wrote "Something nice to drink."
Shin Shira read them out one by one.
"Yes," he said, "they're all very well, but how are you going to eat them when you have got them? Now you see what I wish for," and he carefully wrote on his slip of paper, "Tablecloth, serviettes, plates, dishes, knives, forks, spoons, salt, pepper, mustard, oil, vinegar, glasses and a corkscrew." "There!" he exclaimed, "I think that will put us right. Now watch carefully. You see there is no deception!" and he laughingly rolled up his sleeves like a professional conjurer.
He placed the paper upon which he had written his list into his turban, shaking it violently.
To our surprise, in a few seconds it sounded as though there was something in it, and an instant later he drew forth from it a neatly folded snow-white tablecloth, the serviettes, spoons, forks, and in fact all the articles which he had named.
He set the children to work laying the cloth, while he placed the other lists in his turban, and in turn, beginning with a deliciously fresh-looking lobster salad, and a large game pie, he brought forth every one of the good things which had been wished for.
Fidge's "something nice to drink" turned out to be bottles of lemonade, milk, soda water, and a bottle of wine for the grown-ups.
A more delicious feast it would be impossible to imagine.
We were just sitting down to enjoy it, and I had stuck the knife and fork into the game pie, when Marjorie sprang up with a little scream, brushing something from her face.
"Ough! a horrid caterpillar!" she cried.
"And here's another!" declared Fidge, knocking one from his coat.
"And an earwig!" exclaimed Dick, picking one up from the cloth.
"Oh! and spiders!" screamed Lady Betty, jumping up and shaking her frock.
"Dear! dear! this will never do!" I said, for the place was swarming with insects, owing to the very dry summer which we had had.
"There ought to be a marquee like we had at the choir treat," said Fidge.
"Oh, I vote we get on with the grub," said Dick greedily. "The insects won't kill us."
"No, but a marquee would certainly be more comfortable," said Shin Shira. "Come into the meadow just over there, and I'll see if I can provide one."
Leaving Lionel to guard our feast, the rest of us all trailed after him, over the fence into the meadow, which was carpeted with soft long grass.
"The only thing is, I can't exactly remember what a marquee is like," he said. "Think, my dear boy, what the one was like which you had in your mind."
"Why, it had four poles, one at each corner," said Fidge, "and some iron things connecting them at the top, and it was covered all over and round the sides with some stripey stuff. Then there were ropes and things, and pegs driven into the ground to tie the poles to, and a trestle table and two long forms each side. That's all. Oh, yes, and Piggott & Son, Tentmakers, was written in big letters on the stripey stuff."
"Ah!" said Shin Shira, "I think I shall be able to imagine it sufficiently well now. I'll try," and after consulting his little yellow book again for instructions, he called for a stick, which the boys soon cut from the hedge, and marked out a large square space in the meadow; and then, using some magic words, he waved the stick three times, and there stood the very marquee which Fidge had described, even to the words Piggott & Son, Tentmakers, on the canvas covering.
"Now go and bring the luncheon, children, and we'll try again," said Shin Shira, in a rare good humour with himself (the little fellow was evidently delighted to find that his fairy powers were acting so well to-day); and soon we were seated around the table, which, I must confess, I found a more comfortable way of enjoying my luncheon.
To say that we did full justice to the good things provided, is but mildly describing the way the food disappeared.
The two elder boys in particular seemed as though they would never leave off, but at last we settled down comfortably to the fruit and nuts, and were just discussing what we should do with the marquee and its contents, when we suddenly all started to our feet in alarm.
A loud bellowing, combined with a dull sound of galloping hoofs, told us that something was coming our way.
I rushed to the door and looked out.
"Good heavens! A mad bull!" I cried, "tearing this way at a furious pace."
Shin Shira sprang to the opening.
"I'll attract him in another direction, and while he is after me you all escape over the fence," he cried hurriedly, and snatching a red silk handkerchief from Lionel's pocket, he rushed out into the open.
The bull paused, and though I frantically shouted to Shin Shira to come back, the brave little fellow flourished the red handkerchief to attract the creature's attention. With a bellow of anger the infuriated animal, holding his head down, tore after the Dwarf, who ran with surprising swiftness in the opposite direction to the marquee.
"Now children, quickly!" I cried, catching Lady Betty by the hand, and we all made for the fence as quickly as possible.
We were no sooner in safety than we turned to see how our gallant little friend was faring.
The yellow figure, still waving the red handkerchief, was running ahead of the bull, but to our great distress we could see that the beast was gaining on him.
"Oh dear! he'll never reach the other side in time," cried Marjorie, hiding her eyes in her hands and sinking to the ground in a panic of fear and fright.
Presently the boys gave an excited shout—"Hurrah! Bravo!" they cried, jumping from the fence and skipping about, tossing their caps into the air in an excess of relief. I sat down beside Marjorie and explained to her what had happened.
The bull was rapidly gaining on Shin Shira and the little fellow was becoming exhausted, when, by a happy chance, at that very moment he began to disappear, and before the bull could reach him he had vanished altogether.
The bull was rushing frantically about, bellowing and snorting and looking in vain for him, and at last, turning his attention to the marquee, he dashed into it, ripping up the canvas and overturning the table, smashing the dishes, and altogether making a most terrific commotion.
Now that we were all safe we could make light of the loss of the marquee and its contents, and could even smile at the quaint remark of Lady Betty when she said solemnly——
"In future I shall prefer to picnic where there are spiders, instead of where mad bulls are about. In fact, I shall rather like spiders after this: they're so gentle and don't bellow at all."
The boys were still watching the havoc which the bull was creating, when they noticed a man walking towards us beside the fence.
He was a big, burly farmer and looked very angry.
"Now then," he cried, in a surly voice, "what do you mean by all this?"
"I don't understand you," I answered.
"I speak plain English, don't I?" he said. "Wasn't it you that's been trampling in my long grass, and building tents and what not on private property? I'll learn you that I won't have no strangers in my meadows, I can tell ye."
"I'm very sorry if I've done any harm," said I, "and I'm sure if—"
"If you've done any harm!" shouted the farmer. "Look at all that long grass trampled down all over the meadow."
"Yes," I interrupted, "but it was your bull which did that."
"He wouldn't have done it if you hadn't teased him," said the farmer obstinately. "I saw one of you myself teasing him with a red rag and making him furious. I'm not going to have any of it. Off you come with me to the police station."
"No, no, I can't do that," I cried in alarm; "I have these children with me."
"People shouldn't take children out if they can't do without getting into mischief," grumbled the farmer. "No, you come along of me," and he caught hold of my arm.
"I'll give you my card," I said, "and if you have any serious complaint to make you can write to me."
"Aye, a likely story; and when I write to you, as likely as not I'll find you've given me a wrong address."
"Come back with me then to the inn: they know me there and will tell you whether or no the address is a correct one."
The old farmer was gradually persuaded to this course, though he grumbled all the way there that I ought to be "locked up," while the children, thoroughly subdued, walked in silence behind us.
"You'll have to pay a pretty penny for damages," said he warningly, when he had satisfied himself at the inn that I was known as "a gentleman who often drove over there in the summer, and always paid for what he had."
I assured him that he should have what was just, and when he had gone I ordered tea in the arbour at the end of the old-fashioned garden, and over it we forgot the unfortunate, but exciting, termination to our picnic.
We arrived home quite safely. Sure enough, a few days afterwards I received a preposterous claim for damage to the farmer's grass, which I left my solicitor to deal with; and more extraordinary still, I had a claim from Messrs. Piggott & Son for damages to a tent, which they "could not trace as having been hired to me, but which I must have hired at some time or another, since it bore their name marked as they only marked their tents let out on hire."
This letter also went to my solicitor, and to this day I've heard nothing further about either matter.