The Story of Freginald (6 page)

“Excuse me, boss,” Leo interrupted. “I know you don't like me to chase sheep and you're right, of course. I don't know why I always want to do it. It's the lion in me, I suppose. And they always look so darn silly—But this time, honestly, I don't think you ought to blame me. D'you know what they did? One of 'em roared at me. And the others all laughed.”

“Roared at you? Ha! That's a swell yarn, that is,” said Rod.

“Shut up, Rod,” said Mr. Boomschmidt. “I'll tend to this.”

The horse snorted and shrugged his shoulders so violently that Mr. Boomschmidt's hat fell over his eyes. He straightened it and said: “Roared, eh? Well, we'll soon find out.” And he rode up toward the sheep.

The others watched him trot across the pasture. The old ram who was the head of the flock, and knew Mr. Boomschmidt, came to meet him. They talked for a minute, then the ram put back his head and let out a deep, full-chested roar. It sounded almost more like Leo than Leo himself. And all the sheep burst into silly bleating laughter that could be heard for miles.

Leo was hopping up and down with rage. “There, you see?” he said. “You see? And all I did was chase them a little. Any other lion would have taken a good poke at that ram. The big stuffed shirt!”

“You never could take a joke, Leo,” said Mademoiselle Rose.

Mr. Boomschmidt came riding back. “Never heard a thing to beat it,” he said. “Did you hear that roar? Says he's been practicing it ever since he was a lamb. Can you imagine that, Rose? I offered him a job, but he can't come unless he brings his family and of course we can't have all those sheep around. But it just goes to show. There's plenty of talent if we can only find it. Now, boys, here's the proposition.” He rode on, apparently having forgotten Leo's misbehavior, and although Rod looked around at him reprovingly several times, he said no more about it.

“You did a good job when you found Eustace, Freginald. Now I want you and Leo, as we work north, to scout around for more animals that can do things. The show can get along without you; we won't be giving any more performances until we get into York State. You can travel the back roads, keeping pretty close to the show all the time, and the more animals you round up, the better. My word, we'll have a circus that
is
a circus!”

CHAPTER 5

So the next morning Freginald and Leo started out. They turned their backs on the circus and took a little stony road that ran due west. They stepped out briskly and their shadows stepped out ahead of them. Leo kept making funny little jumps and pounces and by and by Freginald asked him what he was trying to do.

“Trying to jump on my shadow. My Uncle Ajax told me once that nobody could do it. He said if I ever did it I'd be smarter than anyone in the world. I used to spend hours practicing it. But it's funny—no matter how quick you are, your shadow's quicker.”

“Pooh! I bet I can do it,” said Freginald. So he tried ten times.

“Pshaw, you're even slower than I am. I almost got it that time. Look,” said Leo. He jumped. “Oh, look, look! I got it!”

“That's my shadow you're on,” said Freginald.

“Oh,” said Leo, “so it is. Well I would have had it if your old shadow hadn't got in the way.”

“You wouldn't either,” said Freginald, who had been thinking. “Look, Leo, you couldn't, because that would mean that your shadow would stand still when you moved. And it has to move when you do.”

“Who says so?”

“Nobody says so. It just has to be, that's all.”

“That's a fine way to argue,” said Leo. “Why should it have to move when I do any more than I have to move when
it
does?”

“You do.”

“Oh, is that so?” said the lion. “Well, now, you watch. I'm going to stand perfectly still until my shadow moves. And then I'll
stay
still. I bet you won't see me move.”

So Leo stood perfectly still in the middle of the road, watching his shadow. Neither of them moved for about two minutes. Freginald sat down in the grass.

“No old shadow can make
me
move,” said Leo, and went on standing still.

“You see? He doesn't dare move. It's no use,” he finally said. “He's just made up his mind not to move first. Come along.” He started up the road again. “I guess that proves it, doesn't it?”

But you never get anywhere arguing with a lion, and Freginald knew it, so he just said: “Oh, sure. Sure.” And then the road began to go uphill through the woods, and their shadows disappeared and Leo had to save his breath for climbing.

The road went over the hill, getting rougher and rougher, and then it wriggled through a swamp. And then it stopped. It stopped so short that they walked right on into the underbrush before they noticed it. Then they backed out and looked at each other.

“This is a fine note,” said Leo. “Now I suppose we'll have to go all the way back and start again. It's an outrage, that's what it is. Who ever heard of a road just stopping? All the roads I ever saw went somewhere.”

“Maybe this one used to,” said Freginald. “But maybe the place it went to has gone. Anyway, we won't have to go back. We can travel through the woods.”

“Oh, sure, and get my mane full of burs and prickers,” grumbled Leo.

“Well, there must be something at the end of this road,” said Freginald. “I'll climb a tree and look.” So he did and, sure enough, back among the trees he saw the roof of a house and behind it a barn and some fields.

So they began to shove their way through the laurel thicket that closed the end of the road. But they had only gone a little way when a voice shouted: “Halt! Who goes there?” and a big shaggy horse poked his head through the bushes ahead of them.

“Hello,” said Leo. “We're from the circus. We represent Mr. Boomschmidt. Can we have a few minutes of your time?”

“We don't like strangers around here,” said the horse. “You-all better go back the way you come.” He spoke with a strong Southern accent.

“Oh, come,” said Leo pleasantly. “We just want to talk to you for a few minutes. It will be greatly to your advantage to hear us. Come on, Fredg.” And he started forward.

“Stand where you are,” said the horse sharply. Then as they stopped again: “I done warned you, stranger. You're headin' into trouble.”

Freginald would have gone back, for he didn't see the sense of getting into a row. But lions aren't used to being told by other animals what they can or can't, do and Leo got mad.

“Look,” he said, “there isn't any rat-tailed old plow-dragger going to give me orders. Get out of the way, boy; we're coming with our tails high.” And he bounded forward.

The horse reared and struck with his forefeet, but Leo dodged and struck like a cat with a powerful paw that jolted the other animal's jaw and made his teeth rattle. At that the horse turned and galloped off, neighing shrilly, and Freginald followed his friend out into the little clearing in front of the house.

It was a big house with pillars across the front and had once been very imposing indeed; but now the porch sagged, the windows were all broken, and the wood, from which the paint had peeled off many years ago, was cracked and rotten. But they didn't have time to examine it more closely. For from the fields behind the house and from the woods all about them came a great trampling and crashing, and then by twos and threes twenty or thirty animals came bounding toward them—lean brown pigs, big ferocious-looking dogs, heavy shaggy horses, and a herd of unkempt cattle with long, vicious horns, led by a tough old bull with red eyes.

“H'm,” said Leo. “My mistake.”

But they were surrounded before they could retreat.

“Into the barn,” ordered the bull in a hoarse rumble. And the sharp horns herded them round the house and into the tumbledown barn. Leo protested and explained, but nobody paid any attention.

“Well, I guess I spoke out of turn,” said Leo when the other animals had gone, leaving two unpleasant cows on guard. “But you can't take that kind of thing from a horse!”

“Did you see any people around the house?” Freginald asked.

“Why, now I come to think of it, I didn't,” said Leo. “That's funny. You don't suppose these pirates could be living here alone?”

“There aren't any curtains in the windows, or tools and things around the house,” Freginald said.

“H'm,” said Leo. “That's bad.”

They both knew it was bad. When tame animals go wild they're a great deal wilder and more ferocious I than any wild animals can possibly be. They talked it; over in undertones, but couldn't think of any plan. It would be easy enough to break out of the barn, but it would take them some time and be a noisy business, and by that time all the horns and hoofs and teeth would be ready for them.

“We'll just have to wait and see,” said Leo.

They didn't have to wait very long. Half an hour later the bull came to the door. “You,” he said, nodding to Freginald. “Come here.”

Freginald stepped forward.

“What's he?” said the bull, looking toward Leo.

“Who, Leo? He's a lion.”

“What's that—some kind of dog?”

“Dog!” sputtered Leo. “Dog! Why, dye my hair! I'm head of the cat family and king of all the animals, that's what I am.”

“Look like a dog,” said the bull.
“Silence!”
he bellowed as Leo started to shout angrily. “Go on, bear. Why'd you come here?”

He listened while Freginald explained. Then he blew thoughtfully through his nostrils. “Too bad,” he said. “Got nothing against you. But you'll have to stay now.” Then he turned and lumbered away.