BUNNY SAVES A BABY
“Do yo know,” said Bobby one day to me when we had been on our travels . . . Bobby and I and the small pet Bunny . . . long enough to make the idea of home seem strange, “do you know, that big Arab did the strangest thing this afternoon." “What, Bobby?” I asked. “Everything seems strange to you naturally in this country. Things are so different.” “Well,” said Bobby, “I never saw a man in any country take a perfectly good gun and throw it in the river.” “That is extraordinary, I will admit,” I said. “I wonder what made him do that.” The next time I had an opportunity to speak to the Arab Bobby had mentioned, I asked him about the gun and what do you think he told me? "That Arab had killed a hyena with that gun and in Arabia they despise hyenas to such a degree that they consider it below the dignity of man to kill them. And if a man should kill a hyena, he throws away the spear or gun he has used. When I asked him if they just let the hyenas run wild he told me very emphatically that they didn’t, but that they only threw mud in the faces of the hyenas, tied up their legs and gave them to the women and children to stone to death. I always knew that hyenas were cowards—poor skulking, treacherous creatures that they are, but I never dreamed that there was such contempt for them. Soon after that, however, I had
reason to agree with the Arabs that they shouldn’t have the honour of being killed by a man. And I will tell you why. We were staying for a few days with a nomad tribe and, like the nomads, we slept in tents. Because you know nomads move around and for that reason can’t have houses, so they carry their tents with them. It seemed only a few moments that I had been asleep when I felt a tug at my arm. I awoke suddenly to find that I must have been asleep for hours, because the first streaks of dawn were in the sky and the light was just starting to come through the flap of my tent. “Grandpa,” whispered Bunny as plain as plain, “come quickly and bring your gun.” I jumped up, reached for my revolver, which was under my pillow and followed Bunny out'fcf the tent. Silently he led the way to the next tent and then behind that one to the other. Then he stopped and gave me a frightened look. I moved forward and looked. No wonder Bunny looked scared. For there, just about to nose his way under the tent and crawl in was the meanest looking hyena I ever saw. If it had been entirely dark I would have thought it was a shaggy dog. But in that early morning I saw clearly the square jaw and spots of a big hyena. I didn’t want to shoot him. But I knew he would work havoc, and, as it happened, there was a mother with her little baby sleeping alone in that tent. Her husband was off on a trip in the mountains.
I thought for a moment and I thought quickly. I knew what cowards those fellows were and how they will even run from a child with a stick in his hand. So I took a chance. I just raised the butt of my revolver, gave a whoop and brought it down with a sharp crack on the hyena’s back. What a howl he let out, and how he did dust! He was out of that camp before all the natives were out of their tents!
“Good boy,” I said to Bunny. “How did you happen to know that fellow was around?”
“I smelt him, Grandpa,” said Bunny, “and then I found him. I knew the wretch would go into that tent and take the baby right out of its mother’s arms without waking her up. They do that, you know. Of course, I couldn’t do anything. But I knew you could.”
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Bibliographic details
Timaru Herald, Volume CXLV, Issue 21216, 10 December 1938, Page 3 (Supplement)
Word Count
691BUNNY SAVES A BABY Timaru Herald, Volume CXLV, Issue 21216, 10 December 1938, Page 3 (Supplement)
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