A Little Bush Maid

by Mary Grant Bruce

Then there were the acrobats—accomplished men in tight clothes—who cut the most amazing somersaults, and seemed to regard no object as too great to be leaped over. They brought in the horses, and stood ever so many of them together, backed up by the elephant, and the leading acrobat jumped over them all without any apparent effort. After which all the horses galloped off of their own accord, and “put themselves away” without giving anyone any trouble. Then the acrobats were hauled up into the top of the tent, where they swung themselves from rope to rope, and somersaulted through space; and one man hung head downwards, and caught by the hands another who came flying through the air as if he belonged there. Once he missed the outstretched hands, and Norah gasped expecting to see him terribly hurt—instead of which he fell harmlessly into a big net thoughtfully spread for his reception, and rebounded like a tennis ball, kissing his hand gracefully to the audience, after which he again whirled through the air, and this time landed safely in the hands of the hanging man, who had all this while seemed just as comfortable head downwards as any other way. There was even a little boy who swung himself about the tent as fearlessly as the grown men, and cut capers almost as dangerous as theirs. Norah couldn’t help breathing more freely when the acrobats bowed their final farewell.

Mr. Linton consulted his programme.

“They’re bringing in the lion next,” he said.

The band struck up the liveliest of tunes. All the ring was cleared now, except for the clown, who suddenly assumed an appearance of great solemnity. He marched to the edge of the ring and struck an attitude indicative of profound respect.

In came the elephant, lightly harnessed, and drawing a huge cage on wheels. On other sides marched attendants in special uniforms, and on the elephant’s back stood the lion tamer, all glorious in scarlet and gold, so that he was almost hurtful to the eye. In the cage three lions paced ceaselessly up and down. The band blared. The people clapped. The clown bowed his forehead into the dust and said feelingly, “Wow!”

Beside the ring was another, more like a huge iron safe than a ring, as it was completely walled and roofed with iron bars. The cage was drawn up close beside this, and the doors slid back. The lions needed no further invitation. They gave smothered growls as they leaped from their close quarters into this larger breathing space. Then another door was opened stealthily, and the lion tamer slipped in, armed with no weapon more deadly than a heavy whip.

Norah did not like it. It seemed to her, to put it mildly, a risky proceeding. Generally speaking, Norah was by no means a careful soul, and had no opinion of people who thought over much about looking after their skins; but this business of lions was not exactly what she had been used to. They appeared to her so hungry, and so remarkably ill tempered; and the man was as one to three, and had, apparently, no advantage in the matter of teeth and claws.

“Don’t like this game,” said the bush maiden, frowning. “Is he safe, Daddy?”

“Oh, he’s all right,” her father answered, smiling. “These chaps know how to take care of themselves; and the lions know he’s master. Watch them Norah.”

Norah was already doing that. The lions prowling round the ring, keeping wary eyes on their tamer, were called to duty by a sharp crack of the whip. Growling, they took their respective stations—two on the seats of chairs, the third standing between them, poised on the two chair backs. Then they were put through a quick succession of tricks. They jumped over chairs and ropes and each other; they raced round the ring, taking hurdles at intervals; they balanced on big wooden balls, and pushed them along by quick changes of position. Then they leaped through hoops, ornamented with fluttering strips of paper, and clearly did not care for the exercise. And all the while their stealthy eyes never left those of the tamer.