Esme

by H.H. Munro (SAKI)

　　"All hunting stories are the same," said Clovis; "just as all Turfstories are the same, and all--""My hunting story isn't a bit like any you've ever heard," saidthe Baroness. "It happened quite a while ago, when I was abouttwenty-three. I wasn't living apart from my husband then; yousee, neither of us could afford to make the other a separateallowance. In spite of everything that proverbs may say, povertykeeps together more homes than it breaks up. But we always huntedwith different packs. All this has nothing to do with the story.""We haven't arrived at the meet yet. I suppose there was a meet,"said Clovis."Of course there was a meet," said the Baroness; all the usualcrowd were there, especially Constance Broddle. Constance is oneof those strapping florid girls that go so well with autumnscenery or Christmas decorations in church. 'I feel apresentiment that something dreadful is going to happen,' she saidto me; 'am I looking pale?'"She was looking about as pale as a beetroot that has suddenlyheard bad news."'You're looking nicer than usual,' I said, 'but that's so easyfor you.' Before she had got the right bearings of this remark wehad settled down to business; hounds had found a fox lying out insome gorse-bushes.""I knew it," said Clovis, "in every fox-hunting story that I'veever heard there's been a fox and some gorse-bushes.""Constance and I were well mounted," continued the Baronessserenely, "and we had no difficulty in keeping ourselves in thefirst flight, though it was a fairly stiff run. Towards thefinish, however, we must have held rather too independent a line,for we lost the hounds, and found ourselves plodding aimlesslyalong miles away from anywhere. It was fairly exasperating, andmy temper was beginning to let itself go by inches, when onpushing our way through an accommodating hedge we were gladdenedby the sight of hounds in full cry in a hollow just beneath us."'There they go,' cried Constance, and then added in a gasp, 'InHeaven's name, what are they hunting?'"It was certainly no mortal fox. It stood more than twice ashigh, had a short, ugly head, and an enormous thick neck."'It's a hyaena,' I cried; 'it must have escaped from LordPabham's Park.'"At that moment the hunted beast turned and faced its pursuers,and the hounds (there were only about six couple of them) stoodround in a half-circle and looked foolish. Evidently they hadbroken away from the rest of the pack on the trail of this alienscent, and were not quite sure how to treat their quarry now theyhad got him."The hyaena hailed our approach with unmistakable relief anddemonstrations of friendliness. It had probably been accustomedto uniform kindness from humans, while its first experience of apack of hounds had left a bad impression. The hounds looked morethan ever embarrassed as their quarry paraded its sudden intimacywith us, and the faint toot of a horn in the distance was seizedon as a welcome signal for unobtrusive departure. Constance and Iand the hyaena were left alone in the gathering twilight"'What are we to do?' asked Constance."'What a person you are for questions,' I said."'Well, we can't stay here all night with a hyaena,' she retorted."'I don't know what your ideas of comfort are,' I said; 'but Ishouldn't think of staying here all night even without a hyaena.My home may be an unhappy one, but at least it has hot and coldwater laid on, and domestic service, and other conveniences whichwe shouldn't find here. We had better make for that ridge oftrees to the right; I imagine the Crowley road is just beyond.'"We trotted off slowly along a faintly marked cart-track, with thebeast following cheerfully at our heels."'What on earth are we to do with the hyaena?' came the inevitablequestion."'What does one generally do with hyaenas?' I asked crossly."'I've never had anything to do with one before,' said Constance."'Well, neither have I. If we even knew its sex we might give ita name. Perhaps we might call it Esm. That would do in eithercase.'"There was still sufficient daylight for us to distinguish waysideobjects, and our listless spirits gave an upward perk as we cameupon a small half-naked gipsy brat picking blackberries from alow-growing bush. The sudden apparition of two horsewomen and ahyaena set it off crying, and in any case we should scarcely havegleaned any useful geographical information from that source; butthere was a probability that we might strike a gipsy encampmentsomewhere along our route. We rode on hopefully but uneventfullyfor another mile or so."'I wonder what that child was doing there,' said Constancepresently."'Picking blackberries. Obviously.'"'I don't like the way it cried,' pursued Constance; 'somehow itswail keeps ringing in my ears.'"I did not chide Constance for her morbid fancies; as a matter offact the same sensation, of being pursued by a persistent fretfulwail, had been forcing itself on my rather over-tired nerves. Forcompany's sake I hulloed to Esm, who had lagged somewhat behind.With a few springy bounds he drew up level, and then shot past us."The wailing accompaniment was explained. The gipsy child wasfirmly, and I expect painfully, held in his jaws."'Merciful Heaven screamed Constance, 'what on earth shall we do?What are we to do?'"I am perfectly certain that at the Last Judgment Constance willask more questions than any of the examining Seraphs."'Can't we do something?' she persisted tearfully, as Esmcantered easily along in front of our tired horses."Personally I was doing everything that occurred to me at themoment. I stormed and scolded and coaxed in English and Frenchand gamekeeper language; I made absurd, ineffectual cuts in theair with my thongless hunting-crop; I hurled my sandwich case atthe brute; in fact, I really don't know what more I could havedone. And still we lumbered on through the deepening dusk, withthat dark uncouth shape lumbering ahead of us, and a drone oflugubrious music floating in our ears. Suddenly Esm boundedaside into some thick bushes, where we could not follow; the wailrose to a shriek and then stopped altogether. This part of thestory I always hurry over, because it is really rather horrible.When the beast joined us again, after an absence of a few minutes,there was an air of patient understanding about him, as though heknew that he had done something of which we disapproved, but whichhe felt to be thoroughly justifiable."'How can you let that ravening beast trot by your side?' askedConstance. She was looking more than ever like an albinobeetroot."'In the first place, I can't prevent it,' I said; 'and in thesecond place, whatever else he may be, I doubt if he's ravening atthe present moment.'"Constance shuddered. 'Do you think the poor little thingsuffered much?' came another of her futile questions."'The indications were all that way,' I said; 'on the other hand,of course, it may have been crying from sheer temper. Childrensometimes do.'"It was nearly pitch-dark when we emerged suddenly into thehighroad. A flash of lights and the whir of a motor went past usat the same moment at uncomfortably close quarters. A thud and asharp screeching yell followed a second later. The car drew up,and when I had ridden back to the spot I found a young man bendingover a dark motionless mass lying by the roadside."'You have killed my Esm I exclaimed bitterly."'I'm so awfully sorry,' said the young man; I keep dogs myself,so I know what you must feel about it I'll do anything I can inreparation.'"'Please bury him at once,' I said; that much I think I may ask ofyou.'"'Bring the spade, William,' he called to the chauffeur.Evidently hasty roadside interments were contingencies that hadbeen provided against."The digging of a sufficiently large grave took some little time.'I say, what a magnificent fellow,' said the motorist as thecorpse was rolled over into the trench. 'I'm afraid he must havebeen rather a valuable animal.'"'He took second in the puppy class at Birmingham last year,' Isaid resolutely."Constance snorted loudly."'Don't cry, dear,' I said brokenly; 'it was all over in a,moment. He couldn't have suffered much.'"'Look here,' said the young fellow desperately, 'you simply mustlet me do something by way of reparation.'"I refused sweetly, but as he persisted I let him have my address."Of course, we kept our own counsel as to the earlier episodes ofthe evening. Lord Pabham never advertised the loss of his hyaena;when a strictly fruit-eating animal strayed from his park a yearor two previously he was called upon to give compensation ineleven cases of sheep-worrying and practically to re-stock hisneighbours' poultry-yards, and an escaped hyaena would havemounted up to something on the scale of a Government grant. Thegipsies were equally unobtrusive over their missing offspring; Idon't suppose in large encampments they really know to a child ortwo how many they've got."The Baroness paused reflectively, and then continued:"There was a sequel to the adventure, though. I got through thepost a charming little diamond brooch, with the name Esm set in asprig of rosemary. Incidentally, too, I lost the friendship ofConstance Broddle. You see, when I sold the brooch I quiteproperly refused to give her any share of the proceeds. I pointedout that the Esm part of the affair was my own invention, and thehyaena part of it belonged to Lord Pabham, if it really was hishyaena, of which, of course, I've no proof."