Beasts and Super-Beasts Read online

  Transcribed from the 1914 John Lane, The Bodley Head edition by DavidPrice, email [email protected]

  BEASTS AND SUPER-BEASTS

  By H. H. MUNRO (“SAKI”)

  * * * * *

  LONDON: JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY TORONTO: BELL & COCKBURN MCMXIV

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  “The Open Window,” “The Schartz-Metterklume Method,” and “Clovis onParental Responsibilities,” originally appeared in the _WestminsterGazette_, “The Elk” in the _Bystander_, and the remaining stories in the_Morning Post_. To the Editors of these papers I am indebted for theircourtesy in allowing me to reprint them.

  H. H. M.

  THE SHE-WOLF

  Leonard Bilsiter was one of those people who have failed to find thisworld attractive or interesting, and who have sought compensation in an“unseen world” of their own experience or imagination—or invention.Children do that sort of thing successfully, but children are content toconvince themselves, and do not vulgarise their beliefs by trying toconvince other people. Leonard Bilsiter’s beliefs were for “the few,”that is to say, anyone who would listen to him.

  His dabblings in the unseen might not have carried him beyond thecustomary platitudes of the drawing-room visionary if accident had notreinforced his stock-in-trade of mystical lore. In company with afriend, who was interested in a Ural mining concern, he had made a tripacross Eastern Europe at a moment when the great Russian railway strikewas developing from a threat to a reality; its outbreak caught him on thereturn journey, somewhere on the further side of Perm, and it was whilewaiting for a couple of days at a wayside station in a state of suspendedlocomotion that he made the acquaintance of a dealer in harness andmetalware, who profitably whiled away the tedium of the long halt byinitiating his English travelling companion in a fragmentary system offolk-lore that he had picked up from Trans-Baikal traders and natives.Leonard returned to his home circle garrulous about his Russian strikeexperiences, but oppressively reticent about certain dark mysteries,which he alluded to under the resounding title of Siberian Magic. Thereticence wore off in a week or two under the influence of an entire lackof general curiosity, and Leonard began to make more detailed allusionsto the enormous powers which this new esoteric force, to use his owndescription of it, conferred on the initiated few who knew how to wieldit. His aunt, Cecilia Hoops, who loved sensation perhaps rather betterthan she loved the truth, gave him as clamorous an advertisement asanyone could wish for by retailing an account of how he had turned avegetable marrow into a wood pigeon before her very eyes. As amanifestation of the possession of supernatural powers, the story wasdiscounted in some quarters by the respect accorded to Mrs. Hoops’ powersof imagination.

  However divided opinion might be on the question of Leonard’s status as awonderworker or a charlatan, he certainly arrived at Mary Hampton’shouse-party with a reputation for pre-eminence in one or other of thoseprofessions, and he was not disposed to shun such publicity as might fallto his share. Esoteric forces and unusual powers figured largely inwhatever conversation he or his aunt had a share in, and his ownperformances, past and potential, were the subject of mysterious hintsand dark avowals.

  “I wish you would turn me into a wolf, Mr. Bilsiter,” said his hostess atluncheon the day after his arrival.

  “My dear Mary,” said Colonel Hampton, “I never knew you had a craving inthat direction.”

  “A she-wolf, of course,” continued Mrs. Hampton; “it would be tooconfusing to change one’s sex as well as one’s species at a moment’snotice.”

  “I don’t think one should jest on these subjects,” said Leonard.

  “I’m not jesting, I’m quite serious, I assure you. Only don’t do itto-day; we have only eight available bridge players, and it would breakup one of our tables. To-morrow we shall be a larger party. To-morrownight, after dinner—”

  “In our present imperfect understanding of these hidden forces I thinkone should approach them with humbleness rather than mockery,” observedLeonard, with such severity that the subject was forthwith dropped.

  Clovis Sangrail had sat unusually silent during the discussion on thepossibilities of Siberian Magic; after lunch he side-tracked Lord Pabhaminto the comparative seclusion of the billiard-room and delivered himselfof a searching question.

  “Have you such a thing as a she-wolf in your collection of wild animals?A she-wolf of moderately good temper?”

  Lord Pabham considered. “There is Louisa,” he said, “a rather finespecimen of the timber-wolf. I got her two years ago in exchange forsome Arctic foxes. Most of my animals get to be fairly tame beforethey’ve been with me very long; I think I can say Louisa has an angelictemper, as she-wolves go. Why do you ask?”

  “I was wondering whether you would lend her to me for to-morrow night,”said Clovis, with the careless solicitude of one who borrows a collarstud or a tennis racquet.

  “To-morrow night?”

  “Yes, wolves are nocturnal animals, so the late hours won’t hurt her,”said Clovis, with the air of one who has taken everything intoconsideration; “one of your men could bring her over from Pabham Parkafter dusk, and with a little help he ought to be able to smuggle herinto the conservatory at the same moment that Mary Hampton makes anunobtrusive exit.”

  Lord Pabham stared at Clovis for a moment in pardonable bewilderment;then his face broke into a wrinkled network of laughter.

  “Oh, that’s your game, is it? You are going to do a little SiberianMagic on your own account. And is Mrs. Hampton willing to be afellow-conspirator?”

  “Mary is pledged to see me through with it, if you will guaranteeLouisa’s temper.”

  “I’ll answer for Louisa,” said Lord Pabham.

  By the following day the house-party had swollen to larger proportions,and Bilsiter’s instinct for self-advertisement expanded duly under thestimulant of an increased audience. At dinner that evening he held forthat length on the subject of unseen forces and untested powers, and hisflow of impressive eloquence continued unabated while coffee was beingserved in the drawing-room preparatory to a general migration to thecard-room.

  His aunt ensured a respectful hearing for his utterances, but hersensation-loving soul hankered after something more dramatic than merevocal demonstration.

  “Won’t you do something to _convince_ them of your powers, Leonard?” shepleaded; “change something into another shape. He can, you know, if heonly chooses to,” she informed the company.

  “Oh, do,” said Mavis Pellington earnestly, and her request was echoed bynearly everyone present. Even those who were not open to conviction wereperfectly willing to be entertained by an exhibition of amateurconjuring.

  Leonard felt that something tangible was expected of him.

  “Has anyone present,” he asked, “got a three-penny bit or some smallobject of no particular value—?”

  “You’re surely not going to make coins disappear, or something primitiveof that sort?” said Clovis contemptuously.

  “I think it very unkind of you not to carry out my suggestion of turningme into a wolf,” said Mary Hampton, as she crossed over to theconservatory to give her macaws their usual tribute from the dessertdishes.

  “I have already warned you of the danger of treating these powers in amocking spirit,” said Leonard solemnly.

  “I don’t believe you can do it,” laughed Mary provocatively from theconservatory; “I dare you to do it if you can. I defy you to turn meinto a wolf.”

  As
she said this she was lost to view behind a clump of azaleas.

  “Mrs. Hampton—” began Leonard with increased solemnity, but he got nofurther. A breath of chill air seemed to rush across the room, and atthe same time the macaws broke forth into ear-splitting screams.

  “What on earth is the matter with those confounded birds, Mary?”exclaimed Colonel Hampton; at the same moment an even more piercingscream from Mavis Pellington stampeded the entire company from theirseats. In various attitudes of helpless horror or instinctive defencethey confronted the evil-looking grey beast that was peering at them fromamid a setting of fern and azalea.

  Mrs. Hoops was the first to recover from the general chaos of fright andbewilderment.

  “Leonard!” she screamed shrilly to her nephew, “turn it back into Mrs.Hampton at once! It may fly at us at any moment. Turn it back!”

  “I—I don’t know how to,” faltered Leonard, who looked more scared andhorrified than anyone.

  “What!” shouted Colonel Hampton, “you’ve taken the abominable liberty ofturning my wife into a wolf, and now you stand there calmly and say youcan’t turn her back again!”

  To do strict justice to Leonard, calmness was not a distinguishingfeature of his attitude at the moment.

  “I assure you I didn’t turn Mrs. Hampton into a wolf; nothing was fartherfrom my intentions,” he protested.

  “Then where is she, and how came that animal into the conservatory?”demanded the Colonel.

  “Of course we must accept your assurance that you didn’t turn Mrs.Hampton into a wolf,” said Clovis politely, “but you will agree thatappearances are against you.”

  “Are we to have all these recriminations with that beast standing thereready to tear us to pieces?” wailed Mavis indignantly.

  “Lord Pabham, you know a good deal about wild beasts—” suggested ColonelHampton.

  “The wild beasts that I have been accustomed to,” said Lord Pabham, “havecome with proper credentials from well-known dealers, or have been bredin my own menagerie. I’ve never before been confronted with an animalthat walks unconcernedly out of an azalea bush, leaving a charming andpopular hostess unaccounted for. As far as one can judge from _outward_characteristics,” he continued, “it has the appearance of a well-grownfemale of the North American timber-wolf, a variety of the common species_canis lupus_.”

  “Oh, never mind its Latin name,” screamed Mavis, as the beast came a stepor two further into the room; “can’t you entice it away with food, andshut it up where it can’t do any harm?”

  “If it is really Mrs. Hampton, who has just had a very good dinner, Idon’t suppose food will appeal to it very strongly,” said Clovis.

  “Leonard,” beseeched Mrs. Hoops tearfully, “even if this is none of yourdoing can’t you use your great powers to turn this dreadful beast intosomething harmless before it bites us all—a rabbit or something?”

  “I don’t suppose Colonel Hampton would care to have his wife turned intoa succession of fancy animals as though we were playing a round game withher,” interposed Clovis.

  “I absolutely forbid it,” thundered the Colonel.

  “Most wolves that I’ve had anything to do with have been inordinatelyfond of sugar,” said Lord Pabham; “if you like I’ll try the effect onthis one.”

  He took a piece of sugar from the saucer of his coffee cup and flung itto the expectant Louisa, who snapped it in mid-air. There was a sigh ofrelief from the company; a wolf that ate sugar when it might at the leasthave been employed in tearing macaws to pieces had already shed some ofits terrors. The sigh deepened to a gasp of thanks-giving when LordPabham decoyed the animal out of the room by a pretended largesse offurther sugar. There was an instant rush to the vacated conservatory.There was no trace of Mrs. Hampton except the plate containing themacaws’ supper.

  “The door is locked on the inside!” exclaimed Clovis, who had deftlyturned the key as he affected to test it.

  Everyone turned towards Bilsiter.

  “If you haven’t turned my wife into a wolf,” said Colonel Hampton, “willyou kindly explain where she has disappeared to, since she obviouslycould not have gone through a locked door? I will not press you for anexplanation of how a North American timber-wolf suddenly appeared in theconservatory, but I think I have some right to inquire what has become ofMrs. Hampton.”

  Bilsiter’s reiterated disclaimer was met with a general murmur ofimpatient disbelief.

  “I refuse to stay another hour under this roof,” declared MavisPellington.

  “If our hostess has really vanished out of human form,” said Mrs. Hoops,“none of the ladies of the party can very well remain. I absolutelydecline to be chaperoned by a wolf!”

  “It’s a she-wolf,” said Clovis soothingly.

  The correct etiquette to be observed under the unusual circumstancesreceived no further elucidation. The sudden entry of Mary Hamptondeprived the discussion of its immediate interest.

  “Some one has mesmerised me,” she exclaimed crossly; “I found myself inthe game larder, of all places, being fed with sugar by Lord Pabham. Ihate being mesmerised, and the doctor has forbidden me to touch sugar.”

  The situation was explained to her, as far as it permitted of anythingthat could be called explanation.

  “Then you _really_ did turn me into a wolf, Mr. Bilsiter?” she exclaimedexcitedly.

  But Leonard had burned the boat in which he might now have embarked on asea of glory. He could only shake his head feebly.

  “It was I who took that liberty,” said Clovis; “you see, I happen to havelived for a couple of years in North-Eastern Russia, and I have more thana tourist’s acquaintance with the magic craft of that region. One doesnot care to speak about these strange powers, but once in a way, when onehears a lot of nonsense being talked about them, one is tempted to showwhat Siberian magic can accomplish in the hands of someone who reallyunderstands it. I yielded to that temptation. May I have some brandy?the effort has left me rather faint.”

  If Leonard Bilsiter could at that moment have transformed Clovis into acockroach and then have stepped on him he would gladly have performedboth operations.