Beverley Nichols - The Tree that Sat Down

Once he had thought of this plan he wasted no more time. He tied the chain fast to one of the strong iron bars; then he shuffled to the door and flung it open. For a moment he stood there trying to pluck up his courage for the jump. Everything was very quiet; now and then there was a growl from the lions’ cages and a neigh from the paddock where they kept the performing ponies, but there were no sounds of humans. There was only one danger now – that the pain of his paw, as it was dragged through the ring, would be so acute that he would cry out and would wake somebody up.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. ‘Courage, Bruno,’ he muttered to himself. He closed his eyes.

He jumped.

There was one sharp cry; he could not possibly prevent it; he felt as though his paw, from the wrist down, had been plunged into boiling water, as though it were being crushed beneath heavy weights. But when he looked down he saw that the chain had gone; it had torn the fur away; his paw was bare and bleeding. And he did not cry out any more, he just lay there and sobbed beneath his breath, licking his paw very gently, till the pain grew a little less fierce and he felt he could begin to crawl away.

He crawled on his three legs, holding his bleeding paw close to his side, and always keeping to the shadow of the tents. Luck favoured him, for a cloud had drifted over the moon; before he reached the outskirts of the circus he was able to stand upright and run, over a field, through a little coppice, over another field, and finally on to a broad road.

He was free!

Now it so happened that the road on which he found himself was one of the main highways to the North; there was always a good deal of traffic on it; and you can imagine that the sight of a tall shaggy bear, with a bleeding paw, hurrying down the road in the middle of the night, was not one to which the lorry drivers were accustomed. And very soon the news began to spread abroad that there was a bear on the road; the police were called out; and before he knew where he was, he was flying for his life with a whole procession after him, made up of policemen with whistles and villagers with flashing torches and dogs with sharp teeth that glistened in the moonlight.

We need not take too long in describing that chase, though it seemed to him to go on for ever and ever. He was torn by brambles, drenched with the water of bogs into which he stumbled, famished and exhausted, but after a couple of hours he had run many miles, and he began to notice something strange about the country. It was growing wilder and wilder and yet – in some way that he could not explain – it was also growing more friendly . You see, he was on the slopes of the Magic Mountain, and nearing the outskirts of our wood. He was getting faint and dizzy, and as he could go no farther, he fell down, waiting for the worst.

He lay there panting and bleeding, staring with frightened eyes into the undergrowth, waiting for his pursuers to catch up with him. Once they came very close, a whole crowd of them, led by the keeper holding a torch high above his head; he could see the cruel lines on his face, lit by the torch, and could hear the hiss of the whip which he sent curling savagely into the shadows. But he lay so still that they did not notice him, and soon they turned aside, cursing. He saw the torch drifting farther and farther away, and heard the curses growing fainter and fainter, till at last there was darkness again and the wood was still. About an hour later he noticed a chain of lights far below in the valley, moving towards the south. They were the lights of the circus, making for the next town. At last he knew that he was safe. With a sob of thankfulness he dropped his head on his bleeding paw and fell asleep.

It was thus that they found him in the morning – stiff, cold and almost dead.

MISS FOX, WHO WAS the first to find Bruno, had thought that he was really dead, and had scampered off to Mr Justice Owl, who always had to be told of these things before anybody else, because he was so very old and so very wise.

He summoned PC Monkey and they all went back to the spot where Bruno was lying, but by the time they had traversed it, the whole wood seemed to have learned what was happening. Through the sunlit branches there was a great fluttering of birds, all eager to learn about this new excitement; and over the grass, and under the bracken, and across the glades all sorts of animals hastened to the spot. They knew that Mr Justice Owl was on his way, so they did not go too near the body (they all thought that Bruno was dead, he lay so still); they formed a wide semicircle, and waited. There was a great deal of twittering and whispering, but they were very grave and reverent, for animals understand death much better than humans.

Mr Justice Owl fluttered his feathers, blinked, and closed his eyes. For a moment there was silence. Then, in his best legal voice, he demanded:

‘Where is the Body?’

He knew quite well where the body was because he was almost standing on it. But he felt that it would be more dignified to be led up to it.

‘Here, your Honour.’

Mr Justice Owl opened his eyes, blinked again, and regarded Bruno.

Then he took three steps forward, and paused. Surely his sharp eyes had detected a faint rise and fall beneath Bruno’s fur? He put his head down on Bruno’s chest. There was no doubt about it. The heart was beating.

Mr Justice Owl drew a deep breath. He looked first at PC Monkey, then all round the circle of the animals. And in ringing tones he proclaimed:

‘This is not a body. This bear is alive!’

There was an immediate sensation and a great buzz of twittering and chattering.

‘Silence!’ cried Mr Justice Owl.

They obeyed him at once.

He proceeded to issue orders. There was no time to waste. The animals hurried to and fro, bringing cool water from the brook to revive him, the leaves of the giant burdock to bind his bleeding paw, honey to give him strength, a cushion of moss to rest his head. While they were getting all these thing, Mr Justice Owl ordered Mr Peacock to spread his tail and wave it gently backwards and forwards over Bruno’s face … a task which Mr Peacock undertook with great pleasure, for he was very proud of his tail and liked to show it off.

So when Bruno at last came to, and opened his eyes, that was the first thing he saw – the stars on Mr Peacock’s tail waving above him, green, and gold and blue, and he thought that he had died and that they were the stars of heaven.

‘Thank you, Mr Peacock,’ said Mr Justice Owl. ‘You may desist.’

Mr Peacock slowly folded his tail. It was like somebody shutting a paint-box or rolling up a precious canvas. And when the stars faded from Bruno’s eyes, and he saw all the animals sitting round, watching, he no longer thought he was in heaven; he knew that he was back on earth, and the animals seemed to him like the crowds who used to watch him in the circus. You see, he was delirious. He thought he was back in the Ring.

A great fear seized him. He knew that he ought not to be lying down; they always beat him when he lay down – not in front of the crowds, but after the performance, when he had been led away. He must get up quickly, or he would be beaten – he must get up and dance.

He tried to stagger to his feet. But he sank back again exhausted, on to the moss.

‘I can’t,’ he panted, ‘honestly I can’t … give me a minute … just another minute.’ And he covered his head with his paws to ward off the lash of the whip which he felt would come hissing through the air.

But no whip came. Instead he heard the kindly voice of Mr Justice Owl:

‘Calm yourself!’ he murmured. ‘Calm yourself! You are among friends.’