CHAPTER X

IN WHICH NELSON SEES STRANGE VISIONS

Although it had been fairly mild when they went to sleep, by early morning the chill had crept under the rubber blankets, and the four sleepers twisted and turned uneasily, conscious of the cold and yet too sleepy to awake. Nelson was on the outside and therefore less protected than the others. At length, unable to endure it any longer, he sat up and looked about him with heavy eyes. It was beginning to get light, and the crescent moon, far down in the sky, was becoming dim. The other three slept on. Barry raised his head above Dan’s shoulder and glanced gravely across at Nelson. Then, with a sigh, he curled up again and went back to sleep.

Nelson’s legs were stiff and aching, and after a moment of indecision he got up and began to walk around. That warmed him up considerably, and presently he paused and looked about him over the sleeping world. Back of the knoll a rosy tinge was creeping upward. The farmhouse showed no signs of life as yet and the chimney sent no smoke into the gray sky. And everything was very still.

And then, of a sudden, from somewhere came a strange sound, a sound that was utterly at variance with the calm hush of early morning. Nelson puzzled over it for several moments. It was a sound made up of many lesser sounds, the sound of moving wheels, of creaking wagons, of heavy footfalls, of rattling harness, of clanking metal, and, so Nelson thought, of voices. He looked about him in bewilderment. At the farmhouse not a sign of life showed, nor did the sound seem to come from that direction. Nelson turned toward the summit of the little knoll and listened intently. Then he hurried to the top and--rubbed his eyes in amazement at what he saw. For a moment he thought that he was still asleep and dreaming.

Across the field which lay between him and the road lumbered a huge shape, black against the lightening sky. For a second it was formless, gigantic in that half-light. Then Nelson’s eyes served him better, and he saw that the approaching object was an elephant and that beside it walked a man. Yet surely he was dreaming! What could an elephant be doing in the middle of that country field at five o’clock in the morning? And then, as he looked again toward the road, he found the explanation. For now, coming from the direction of the town, emerging from behind the trees which hid the road there and turning into the field, came a procession of wagons and horses and--yes, surely that strange-looking thing was a camel! It was all clear enough now. The circus had arrived!

Several sections of the fence had been removed, and one by one, with urging and coaxing, the big boxlike wagons were being driven into the field. By this time the elephant had reached the end of his journey, and the attendant had brought him to a stop some fifty yards away from where Nelson stood and was filling and lighting his pipe. The wagons lumbered, creaking and jolting, across the grass and were drawn up in two rows. Then other wagons appeared, flat and low these, and made straight for the middle of the field. And after that so many things happened at once and with such amazing celerity that Nelson could only stand there on the knoll and stare.

As if by magic a small tent arose at the end of the twin lines of wagons. Dozens of men hurried hither and thither in squads, carrying canvas, ropes, poles, with never a sign of confusion. The camel, its ridiculous head moving from side to side superciliously, was driven over to where the elephant stood. Men with stakes and mallets followed, and in a minute the two animals were tethered. By that time the larger tent was lying stretched over the ground ready for raising. Fires gleamed near the smaller tent, and there came a rattling of pots and pans. Still another heap of canvas was dragged from a wagon and stretched out. Unconsciously Nelson had moved down the hill. The elephant watched him expectantly with his little eyes as he passed. Nelson kept on until he stood just outside the scene of operations. They were raising the big tent now. One end of it suddenly arose into air; men shouted and hurried; ropes were hauled and tightened, slackened and made fast; the great mallets rose and fell with resounding blows; inch by inch, foot by foot, the great gleaming canvas house took form. From somewhere came an appealing odor of coffee and frying bacon, and Nelson suddenly discovered that he was very hungry. He walked toward the fires.

Those who passed him looked at him curiously but offered no word of remonstrance. The sun came up behind the distant hills with a leap and glittered wanly on the tarnished gold carvings of the chariots and on the pots and pans of the busy cooks. There were two of these, and a youth of about sixteen was acting as helper. As Nelson approached, the youth disappeared into the tent with a basket of tin plates and cups. The flaps were up and Nelson could see a long table formed of planks in sections resting on wooden trestles. The boy was setting the table for breakfast. The stoves, of which there were two, were queer round cylinders of sheet iron which were fed with wood through doors in front. On one a great copper caldron was already beginning to throw off steam. On the other an immense frying pan was filled with bacon, which, as fast as it was done, was removed to other pans upon a near-by trestle. A wagon was backed up close at hand, and as they worked, the cooks went to it for salt and pepper and other ingredients, which they took from drawers and cupboards with which the rear of the wagon was fitted. It was all very astonishing and interesting to Nelson, and he looked and looked until presently one of the cooks saw him and spoke.

“Hello,” he said.

“Good morning,” answered Nelson.

“You’re up early,” continued the other, removing the cover from the caldron for an instant and slamming it back into place. He was a thickset man with a humorous, kindly face and the largest hands Nelson thought he had ever seen.

“Not as early as you,” said Nelson smilingly.

“No, that’s so. It’s our business, you see. Had your breakfast?”

“Not yet.”

“Have a cup of coffee, then?”

Nelson hesitated.

“Got plenty of it?”

“About four gallons,” was the answer. “Here, it’ll warm you up. Toss me a cup, Joe.”

The other cook obeyed without taking his attention from the sizzling bacon, and Nelson’s friend held it under a faucet at the bottom of the caldron.

“There you are. Now you want some sugar. We haven’t got the milk out yet. O Jerry! Bring a spoon and some sugar.”

“Thank you,” said Nelson as he accepted the tin cup of steaming coffee. “It smells mighty good.”

“Well, it ain’t the best in the world,” answered the cook cheerfully, “but it tastes pretty good on a cold morning. You, Jerry! Oh, here you are. Pass the sugar to the gentleman.”

Nelson turned and for the first time had sight of the boy’s face. The hand which he had stretched forth fell to his side.

“Why! Hello, Jerry Hinkley!” he cried.

“Hello,” responded Jerry with an embarrassed smile. He was quite a different-looking Jerry already. His hair had been cut, the faded overalls and blue gingham shirt had given place to a suit of plain, neat clothes, half-hidden by a long apron, and there was a new expression of self-reliance in the gray eyes. He shook hands with Nelson a bit awkwardly, but looked very glad to see him again.

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” asked Nelson.

“I’m cook’s boy,” was the answer. “I joined the show last Wednesday, the day after I seen you. Have some sugar?”

Nelson helped himself, accepted the proffered tin spoon, and stirred his coffee.

“Do you like it?” he asked. “It must be rather a change from the farm.”

“Yes, I like it first-rate,” said Jerry.

“I don’t like to interrupt the meeting of old friends,” said the cook good-naturedly, “but they’ll be in for breakfast in about ten minutes, Jerry, and if you ain’t ready for ’em they’ll scalp you alive.”

“I better be goin’,” said Jerry. “Glad I seen you again.”

“All right,” answered Nelson. “When can I see you? Are you busy all day?”

“No; ’long about ten o’clock I generally don’t have much to do.”

“Good! I’ll look you up then,” said Nelson. “The other fellows will want to see you too; I’ll bring them along.”

“Will you?” asked Jerry eagerly from the door of the tent. “That’s mighty kind of you. Good-by. I--I’ll look for you.”

“Know Jerry, do you?” asked the cook as he pulled a box of tin cups toward him and began setting them on a trestle. Nelson told of their former meeting, sipping the boiling hot coffee the while.

“Well, Jerry’s a pretty good boy,” said the cook. “Tends to his work and ain’t got no highfalutin’ nonsense about bein’ too good for it. Come around and see us again.”

“Thanks,” said Nelson. “I will. And I’m awfully much obliged for that coffee; it went right to the spot.”

“Knew it would. Have some more? No? Well, so long.”

Nelson turned away and retraced his steps. The coffee had warmed him up, and he wished the others could have some. He stopped one of the canvasmen and asked the time.

“Twenty-five minutes after six,” said the man, consulting a big nickel watch.

Nelson thanked him and went on. But it wouldn’t do to wake up the others yet, for, of course, the telegraph office wouldn’t be open before eight, and they wouldn’t want to wait around without any breakfast. So instead of joining them he turned and looked about him. The big tent was up, and so was the dressing tent alongside. The ticket seller’s box was set up beside the main entrance, and men were stretching a forty-foot length of painted canvas across some upright poles. He walked toward them and watched. When finally in place the canvas advertised the attractions of the side show. There was a highly colored picture of “Princess Zoe, the Marvelous Snake Charmer.” The princess was an extraordinarily beautiful young lady and was depicted standing in a regular chaos of writhing snakes, while two others proved their subjugation by twining themselves caressingly about her arms and neck. Then there was a picture of “Boris, the Wild Man of the Tartary Steppes.” Nelson didn’t find Boris especially attractive. According to the picture he was a squat gentleman with a good deal of hair on his face, a remarkably large mouth, a flat nose pierced by a brass ring, and an expression of extraordinary ferocity. Add to that that he was shown in the act of making his dinner on unappetizing-looking pieces of raw meat, and you will understand Nelson’s lack of enthusiasm. Queen Phyllis, the fortune teller, while not particularly beautiful, was much more pleasing to look upon. The last picture was that of “Zul-Zul, the Celebrated Albino Prima Donna,” singing before the crowned heads of Europe. Having exhausted the fascinations of Zul-Zul, Nelson wandered unchallenged into the main tent and found a squad of men erecting the seats. Even that palled after awhile, and he went out again and walked through the lane formed of the chariots and wagons. The cages were still boarded up, but the legends outside threw some light on the identity of the occupants. “Numidian Lion,” he read; “Asiatic Zebra,” “Black Wolves,” “Royal Bengal Tiger.” Now and then a cage would rock on its springs as its occupant moved about, and sometimes a snarl or a grunt reached his ears. A strip of canvas festooned the big tent on the roadside and bore the inscription in big black letters:

+---------------------------+ | MURRAY AND WIRT’S | | MAMMOTH COMBINED SHOWS. | | | | AMERICA’S GREATEST CIRCUS | | AND HIPPODROME! | +---------------------------+

At a little after seven, having seen all that was to be seen at present, he returned to the camp. On his way he stopped for a look at the elephant and camel, which were breakfasting on a bale of hay. In broad daylight the elephant was distinctly disappointing. He wasn’t much larger than the camel, as far as height and length went, but there was a good deal more of him. He was secured by a short chain which led from an iron ring around one hind foot to a stake driven in the ground. He ate slowly and thoughtfully, with much unnecessary gesticulation of his trunk. He was sadly deficient in the matter of tusks, for he showed only one, and that one had been broken off about three inches from his mouth and looked much in need of cleaning. Yes, Nelson was disappointed in the elephant. Nor, for that matter, was the camel much more satisfying. He was a dirty, rusty camel with a malicious gleam in his little eyes and a forbidding way of snarling his upper lip back over his discolored teeth.

“Oh, don’t be so grouchy,” muttered Nelson. “I’m not going to swipe any of your old hay.”

When he got back to the knoll he found only Barry fully awake, although Dan showed symptoms of wakefulness, muttering away at a great rate and throwing his arms about. While Nelson watched, the expected happened. One of Dan’s arms descended forcibly on Tom’s nose, and Tom awoke with an indignant snort.

“Hello, Nel,” he muttered. “What time is it?”

“About a quarter after seven, I guess. I can’t tell you exactly, for I seem to have mislaid my watch.”

Tom gave his attention to Dan.

“Here, wake up, you lazy brute!” he cried. “Want to sleep all day?”

He accompanied this remark with a violent tweak of Dan’s nose, and the effect was instantaneous. Dan sat up with a start and sent Barry flying on to Bob.

“Wh-what’s the matter?” he asked, startled.

“Time to get up,” said Tom virtuously.

“That’s right,” agreed Nelson. “Everyone’s eating breakfast.”

“Huh!” said Tom. “Wish I was.”

“Who’s eating breakfast?” asked Bob, rolling over with the struggling terrier in his arms.

“Well, the elephant and the camel, for two,” answered Nelson.

“Elephant and cam--!” ejaculated Dan. “Say, that’s what comes of sleeping in the moonlight. I’ve heard of it before. I wonder if you’re daffy, too, Bob. Are you? Try and say something sensible and let’s see.”

“The moonlight can’t have any effect on you,” said Bob significantly. Dan sighed.

“You too! I feared it! Say, Nelson, how are the pelicans and the white mice getting on? Had their hot chocolate yet?”

“I didn’t see them,” answered Nelson. “But the Numidian lion and the royal Bengal tiger aren’t up yet.”

“You don’t say? Dear, dear, most careless of them! Say, Tommy, how about you? Are you--er--?” Dan tapped his forehead.

“I will be if I don’t get something to eat pretty soon,” replied Tom dolefully. “How soon does that telegraph office open?”

“Eight, I guess,” said Nelson. “Wonder where we can wash up a bit?”

“How about the farmhouse over there?” suggested Bob.

“All right, I guess. Let’s break camp and go over. By the way, I saw Jerry a little while ago.”

“Jerry who?” asked Tom.

“Jerry Hinkley.”

Dan, who had started to get up, sank back again and viewed Nelson with real concern.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Why, Jerry Hinkley,” answered Nelson with a laugh. “Haven’t forgotten Jerry, have you?”

Dan shook his head sorrowfully.

“No, but you’d better forget him. Joking aside, Nel, what’s the matter with you?”

“Oh, nothing. Or--well, the fact is, I thought I saw things; elephants and camels and--and circuses, you know. I suppose I must have dreamed it.”

“Well, rather!” said Dan relievedly.

“What was Jerry doing?” asked Bob. “Feeding the elephant peanuts or riding the camel?”

“He was setting the table,” replied Nelson gravely.

“Say, you must have had a corking nightmare!” exclaimed Tom. “I did a little dreaming myself; dreamed I was freezing to death, for one thing; but I didn’t see any menageries.”

“Well, come on, fellows,” said Bob. “Pack up and let’s get a move on. We’ll get them to loan us some water over at the house and then mosey toward town. Gee, I’m beastly hungry! Feel as though I hadn’t had a thing to eat for six weeks.”

“I had a cup of coffee about an hour ago,” said Nelson musingly.

“Say, chuck it, will you?” begged Dan earnestly. “You make me feel creepy, Nel.”

“Was it hot?” asked Tom in far-away tones as he tied up his pack.

“Boiling,” answered Nelson. “It was great. I wished you fellows had been there.”

“Thanks. Where was it?” asked Bob. “In the Sahara desert?”

“No; down at the mess tent.”

“What mess tent? Jerry’s?”

“Well, he was there. That’s where I met him. It was the circus mess tent. The cook gave it to me. It was peachy!”

“Su-say!” cried Tom. “Maybe he isn’t lying, fellows! You know there was to be a circus here to-day!”

“Yes, that’s what made Nel dream of ’em,” said Bob.

But Tom was studying Nelson’s face attentively, and something about his smile made Tom suspect that he was on the right track.

“I’ll bu-bu-bet you it’s su-su-su-so!” cried Tom. “Where is it, Nel?”

“Come on,” said Nelson.

They followed him up to the brow of the hill. Before them lay the tents and the wagons, and, nearer at hand, the elephant and the camel were still quietly eating breakfast. They stared in amazement.

“Well, I’ll be bu-bu-bu-bu----!”

“Of course you will, Tommy,” said Nelson soothingly. “Only don’t explode.”

“--bu-bu-bu-blowed!” ended Tom triumphantly. “Wouldn’t that cu-cu-cu-craze you?”

Then Nelson had to tell them all about it.