Dapples of the Circus/Chapter 3
TWO or three days after the battle, as Sir Wilton did not put in an appearance at the farm buildings, where he was in the habit of coming often, Mr. Pederson went to look for him. He first discovered Black Fury limping about on three legs with a strained shoulder, and bearing many other scars. Mr. Pederson's suspicions were at once aroused. Finally he found poor Sir Wilton, the pride of his farm, lying where he had fallen. He was pounded into the snow as though with a pile-driver, and the snow for a hundred feet around showed how desperate the struggle had been.
At first, Mr. Pederson was so angry that he declared he would shoot Black Fury, but finally reflected that such a course would not bring back Sir Wilton. He had already lost one stallion, so why sacrifice another; besides, the black horse was the best native stallion on the island. So the crime went unpunished.
When the children heard the full story from their father they were heart-broken, for they remembered the little dappled colt as he had first appeared on the island. But their attention was soon claimed by another love.
About a week after the death of Sir Wilton, the black horse discovered little Dapples, Sir Wilton's son, who was then about six months old, running about in the hills with his mother. The sight of the small dappled colt, which was a living picture of his sire, so enraged the fury that he at once went after him to kill him. But the mare would not let him. She placed herself constantly between him and the object of his rage. A stallion will rarely attack a mare. He was greatly handicapped by the fact that he was now traveling on three legs. Little Dapples himself had no mind to be stamped to death by the snorting, wild-eyed animal, so he ran like a jack-rabbit, doubling and twisting, and always keeping his mother between himself and his tormentor. So it happened that they came almost up to the farm buildings, the black stallion biting and striking at the mare in his vain endeavors to get at the colt, and the faithful mare warding him off. Mr. Pederson saw them coming, and went after the fury with a pitchfork and drove him away. So it happened that for the second time a dappled colt was taken into the house and the hearts of the Pederson family.
But this colt was much smaller than the other one had been. Sir Wilton had come to the island farm as a yearling, while little Dapples was only six months old. He was given a place to sleep in the open shed, and he often trotted into the best rooms in the house, much like a large dog. The children fed him with care and brushed and caressed him. He was even more of a favorite than his sire had been, because he was so much smaller. So all through that winter little Dapples lived in the Pederson household, almost as one of the family. He even followed the children to school one day, much like Mary's lamb. He finally became so much of a pet that if the children were going away from the farm they had to tie the little colt up first.
But the raising of colts or almost any live-stock for the market is attended by many sad farewells among the little folks. A calf, a lamb, or a colt will work its way into the hearts of the children and they can hardly live without it. Then one fateful day a stranger will drive into the yard. The children will at once be suspicious of him. Somehow he has a sinister look. Presently Father will come around, looking rather shamefaced, to tell them that he has just sold their latest pet. So it happened with little Dapples in the spring, when he was just a year old.
A breeder from England had heard of the famous Sir Wilton who now lay up in the hills under the heather, and he wanted to buy him.
Mr. Pederson could not sell him, but he would sell his colt, an exact image of Sir Wilton at that age.
The dealer looked the small horse over carefully while the children stood about with tear-stained faces, hanging on his every word. Finally he spoke, and they knew at once that little Dapples' fate was sealed.
"I will give you twenty pounds for him," the dealer said. Mr. Pederson nodded his head, at the same time looking fearfully at the children.
So it happened that just three years after Sir Wilton had ceme to the island, his colt went back to the mainland. He was sent in the same crate that his sire had come in. The children gave him one last brushing and petting, and then fled tearfully into the house while their father drove away with him, the favorite of all their many farm pets.
After his short and uneventful life on the island farm it was a strange and eventful journey upon which little Dapples had set out. But this was only the first of many long trips that he was destined to take. First he was loaded on a small steamer bound for the mainland. After a few hours of rather rough sailing the ship touched at a harbor which was also a railroad terminal, and the crate containing Dapples was transferred to the railroad. After two or three rather stupid days of bumping about in freight cars the small horse finally arrived at his destination, a town in Kent, England.
So he had come at one jump from the bleak, desolate Shetlands to one of the most beautiful shires of England. It was a strange transition, but of course Dapples did not appreciate it fully until he had seen his new home.
After his crate had been shoved out on a platform at the station a large hand was thrust in through the slats, and a friendly voice began talking to him. He loved the voice from the first, and knew at once that this man loved horses.
"You poor leetle divil. Shutting you up in that prison like a jail-bird, and not givin' you space to stretch your legs. And it's Jerry McCoy that will see you are released as soon as he can git you home. That he will."
While the pleasant voice had been speaking, the gentle hand had been stroking Dapples's nose and caressing his forehead. So he knew that everything was all right.
After a short ride in a farm wagon they arrived at Rosemere, the country home of Sir Arthur Homesdale, Dapples's new owner. Arrived at the stables, Jerry, the groom, called a helper, and together they lifted Dapples's crate from the wagon, and, sooner than it takes to tell, Jerry had knocked off the side and led the small horse out. He was so stiff with his long confinement that he hobbled around like an old horse. But a vigorous rubbing by the groom and the helper soon set him right. Then he was led away and put in a spacious box stall, in quarters such as his sire, Sir Wilton Second, had occupied when he was a colt. Jerry came several times a day to see him and to care for him. He saw to it that he was properly fed and watered and groomed. He also took him for a little exercise each day.
Jerry himself would be mounted on a tall black horse, who would not even look at Dapples, while the groom led the colt by his side. Sometimes it seemed to Dapples that the large horse went too fast. At such times he would have to gallop to keep up, although the adult horse was merely trotting rapidly, but these daily gallops were the very best thing for the Shetland.
Finally, when he had been at Rosemere for about a month, Dapples was turned out in a beautiful paddock each day and put back into the box stall at night.
The paddock was full of sweet grass, much better than anything Dapples had ever even dreamed of on the island. There were several large trees in the enclosure, so when the sun was hot there was pleasant shade.
Two old horses that had seen their best days kept Dapples company. They were rather disdainful of the Shetland, but kind to him, so his lot was ideal.
What better fun could a Shetland colt wish than to spend the wonderful summer days in a sweet-smelling paddock, where the feed was good and there was cool shade. The air was full of pleasant sounds, and if he felt too full of life he could gallop about in his small pasture to his heart's delight.
Then there were two children who came often to see Dapples. They were about the size of Hans and Olga, so he took to them at once. They were all eagerness to have Jerry train Dapples for them so they might ride and drive him. But Jerry said he was too young and they would have to wait. So while the children waited for Dapples to grow, they and the little horse became the best of friends.
It was not until Dapples was nearly three that Jerry set to work to train him in all the ways of a saddle and phaeton pony. Up to that time the Shetland had not even dreamed that there was such a thing as work in the world.
Jerry first put a small open bridle on him, talking to him all the time in a friendly way.
"Now, leetle chap," said the good-natured Irishman, "that thing I am puttin' into your mouth is a bit, but you just think it is a lump of sugar. Here, here, don't try to spit it out, and don't shake your head. It won't hurt you." At this point the groom stroked the Shetland's face and rubbed his nose and talked to him until he did not mind the hateful bit. Then Jerry led him about the yard, turning, him this way and that until he had learned to mind the bit.
Next, he very carefully put the pad on the small horse, taking care to remove the breeching. Dapples did not mind that as much as he had the bit, not even when it was buckled tight around his middle. After he had become used to the pad, Jerry put on the breeching. Dapples kicked twice at this strange thing that flapped about his hind quarters, but Jerry assured him that it would not bite him, and he soon understood that it was a part of the game.
Jerry did not hitch him into a cart for several days, not until he had broken him to the saddle arid allowed the children to ride about the yard while he led the pony for them. But finally Dapples was hitched into a fine new shiny phaeton, and his real life's work began. But Jerry did not trust the children with him until he had driven him several days under all sorts of trying conditions, and even then he always accompanied them on the black horse.
By degrees the careful groom educated the children in driving both in the saddle and in the cart. After about a month he felt sure that he could trust both children and pony. Then it was a very common sight to see the Homesdale children driving about the country in their shining phaeton drawn by their shiny dappled bay Shetland.
It is a question whether the children were prouder of the small horse or he of his charges. They praised and petted him and showed him to all the children for miles around, yet it is equally certain that he always held his head high and stepped off like a thoroughbred, never disappointing his trainer, old Jerry, with either his style or work.
Finally, in the autumn when the country fairs were being held Jerry conceived the idea of making a trick pony of Dapples and showing him at the local fair. He had been working on him for several weeks before he finally got permission from Sir Arthur to exhibit him at the fair.
Most ponies are very clever and learn tricks much more readily than a full-sized horse. This is because they have been trick horses for centuries. Their diminutive size always gives them an advantage with an audience, for the children are always ready to clap for them even before they have made their bow. The Homesdale children were all excitement about Dapples's tricks, and they watched Jerry each day as he labored patiently with the small horse. When the fair day finally arrived, they could hardly wait until he should come into the arena and do his tricks.
When Dapples trotted demurely into the open space in front of the judges' stand, and made a low bow, a ripple of applause swept through the great audience in the grand stand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," cried Jerry in a clear, ringing voice, "we have with us to-day the only pony in the British Isles that can tell time. It is now just three o'clock by my watch. I will show the timepiece to Sir Wilton III and see what time he makes it."
He held the watch in front of the pony, which seemed to view it critically.
"Have you got it, old chap?" asked Jerry. Dapples bowed his assent. "All right," said Jerry. "Tell the crowd what time it is."
Dapples pawed slowly three times.
"Right," cried his trainer. Then Jerry fell to examining his own clothes critically.
"Dapples," he said at last, "I forgot to brush my clothes when I came away from home. Bring the brush and brush me."
The pony obediently trotted to a nearby desk and brought a clothes-brush, holding the handle with his teeth. Then Dapples very painstakingly brushed Jerry, while the children laughed and clapped.
"All right," cried Jerry when he had finished. "I think it is time for school to begin. Put away the brush and ring the bell."
The pony trotted to the desk and took up a small dinner-bell. This he held in his teeth, and, by shaking his head, rang it vigorously. "Perhaps all the children cannot hear from this distance. Go up the track and ring the bell," said Jerry. Dapples obediently trotted away, ringing his bell, while the children shouted with glee. Finally Jerry whistled to him, and he came back, ringing the bell all the time.
"Now take your place at the desk and school will begin."
The little horse obediently climbed upon a platform behind the desk, while Jerry put a very large pair of spectacles on him. This made him look as wise as an owl. "Now look over the books and prepare the day's lessons."
Very deliberately the Shetland opened book after book, taking hold of the covers with his lips and teeth. After seeming to look at the contents of each book for a few seconds, he pushed it aside and took another.
When several minutes had been consumed in this make-believe school, Jerry announced that he had just discovered that the pupils were all at home sick with the measles and the school would be dismissed for that day. So the small horse rang the bell to conclude the school day, and this trick was at an end.
Then Jerry asked different people in the audience to give him numbers of one figure each. He repeated them carefully to Dapples, who in turn noted each by pawing with his fore-foot. He also added and subtracted in the same way.
All the time that Jerry was giving the small horse these examples in arithmetic he stood with his back to the audience, so that only the judges in the stand in front of him saw the movement of his hand that the small horse watched carefully.
Several other amusing tricks were performed, and Jerry finally asked Dapples to conclude his part of the performance with a short prayer.
To the great delight of all the little people, the Shetland got down on his knees and bowed his head. He stayed in that position until his master cried, "Amen." Then he got up with a spring which made every one laugh.
Such a round of applause as greeted the conclusion of these tricks was rarely heard at the fair.
When Jerry was leading Dapples back to the stable where he would stay until they were ready to go home, a well-known London animal dealer stepped up to him.
"What will you take for the little horse?" he asked.
"He isn't for sale, sir," returned Jerry quickly. "Sir Arthur does not need money as much as the children need Dapples."
"All right," returned the animal buyer. "He is a clever little horse just the same. I think he could be developed for a circus trick pony. That was what I had in mind. If you ever do conclude to sell him, let me know." He put his card in Jerry's hand.
It was true that Sir Arthur did not need money at that time, and no one could foresee the financial disaster which overtook Rosemere's owner the following spring. He became involved in a great South African mining failure, and not only Rosemere, but everything that Sir Arthur possessed, went under the sheriff's hammer. So it happened that the animal buyer from London was notified. He came up, and Dapples was struck off to him for one hundred pounds.
So with many tears the English children said good-byes to the Shetland, just as the other two children had on the Island of Shetland three years before, and Dapples sailed away to America to join the circus. He went in the company of two elephants, a giraffe, two cages of monkeys, and a cage of tropical birds. Thus his circus life had already begun even before he landed in New York. He was at once forwarded to the circus, where he began his strange adventures as a trick pony.
Here he met the boy whom he came to love above all other people, the one who was finally to be his owner.