"And now they trap me with cunning. Now there are helot elephants trained to decoy the brethren of the warm woods, and traps to hold us. And when they have made us fast they starve us cruelly. And they bring us across waters and exhibit us, and the clown and the yokel pay their copper pennies to gaze at the wise and strong in captivity. And some greasy man pouches the wages of our prison. Was it for this we were made wise and kindly and strong?"
The angel is embarrassed. He looks right and left. He turns in relief to the great white bear:
"Sure, now, what complaint can you have? There 's nobody going to shoot at you from the back of the elephant. And there's no man going to open a shop where you are. Begor, 't is few customers he 'd have barring the sea-gulls. And whenever you get killed, 't is your own fault. It's your curiosity brings you to where they can get a shot at you. If you 'd stick around your icebergs you 'd be better off. Sure, you lead the life of a lord's lady. What brings you here at all?"
"I come for the little seals, and our sister the whale. They cannot walk. And they are in great trouble."
"I know. I know. Sure, my heart's just in chains for them."
"The seals huddle on the rocks with their young. They huddle and tremble, and each sinister boat in the Arctic seas is a menace. And the seas are wide, and the patrols are few."
"I know. I know."
"The black boats come, and the men with rifles."
"Ah, now, don't be talking! Don't I know!"
"And our sister the whale skulks in black seas--she who once greeted the sun in the morning. And now seldom appears--who once loved to bask like a cat. She is haunted in her own ocean until she cannot show her steaming fountains. And as a people, she is a slender people, and will soon die."
"A great and terrible loss, surely. Sure, I 'm trying to forget, and you 're reminding me. And you?"
"I have no complaint," uttered the crocodile. "They rarely kill me with guns. They seldom capture me. And there are always small black children bathing in the Nile. And boats get upset often. I have no complaint," he leered.
"Do you know--" the angel is severe--"I never liked you. And what use you are on this earth is more than I can see. Do you know," he said, "I 've half a mind to hoof you back into the river. I have so. Now, here 's one has a complaint." He turned to the horse. But the horse shook its head.
"No complaint, and you the hardest-worked of them all! And the rest of these lazy devils doing nothing but lolling around in the sun. And you, my darling?"
The dog uttered a joyous bark.
"You have no complaints, either."
"Except," the dog pleaded, "that they should n't muzzle me in the heat of the day."
"Well, now, boys--" the angel was awkward with his hands--"I take it you 've all got a complaint to make against man. You object, I infer, to his shooting at you with guns, except, as he is entitled to, in self-defense. And I take it our friend the elephant also objects to being exhibited. On the whole, you object to the present attitude of man. Now, what do you want me to do?"
"We want you," the lion said, "to have God make man stop attacking us."
"Well, now--" the angel shifts from one foot to the other--"well, now, you 've touched on a very delicate situation. On all subjects, of course, you 'll find God kind--I might say, to a degree. But the subject of Man is just a wee bit touchy.
"God, you know, is very much interested in Man. He thinks a lot of man, and He is very much inclined to let man have his own way.
"So whether He 'd listen to a complaint against man or not, I don't rightly know. Personally, between me and you, I think it might be dangerous to put it that way.
"But I 'll tell you what I 'll do. I 'll wait until some fine day when they tell me He 's in good humor, when He's pleased about Man having thought out some new fine scheme, or made a discovery, and then I 'll tackle Him, nice and easy.
"Yes, I 'll take it up some day, and I 'll see what I can do. I 'm sure if I can get Him in a good humor, I can do something. Will that satisfy you?"
"It will not," said the animals.
"Well, then, what do you want me to do?"
"We want you," the tiger's sibilant purr came, "to go from us to God now, to-night."
"Och! have sense! You don't know what you 're asking. I suppose you think I 've only got to knock at the door and ask God to come out and talk it over, and offer Him a pinch of snuff, maybe, and ask Him how the weather 's agreeing with Him. Do you know this wee earth is only one of a million? Of course you can't comprehend that, being only animals and having no reason."
There is something like a snort from the elephant. The Angel of the Lord ventures a timid glance in that direction, but says nothing. The angel is rather in awe of the elephant, as a mother might be of a genius child. He switches to a different point:
"Besides, I suppose you think there are only a few angels of us in it--myself and the Angel of the Changing Seasons, and the Angel of the Growing Crops, and the Angel of the Rivers and Streams, and the Angel of the Five Oceans. Well, let me tell you, there's archangels, and there's powers and dominions, and cherubim and seraphim, and God knows what else. And there's angels you never heard of: there's the Angel of the Progress of Education, and there 's the Angel of Economic Conditions, and the Angel of Atomic Energy. All very clever fellows--geniuses, you might say. And there 's the Angel of Arts and Crafts, a sloppy-looking lad I would n't be caught talking to.
"And there 's English angels, all very superior, and Italian angels, slick as be-damned; and Russian angels are always sighing and groaning and drinking tea; and American angels, brisk lads would convince a dying man he was the devil and all for strength and energy. And me nothing but a poor sort of fellow that knows nothing but animals; you see, I 'd better be keeping my mouth shut in that kind of assembly.
"I 'll tell you what I will do. I 'll get through my work early, and contrive to hang around the squares and gardens of heaven, and any one of these days the Grand Man Himself will be passing by and He 'll see the glint of my old red whiskers, and He 'll stop the archangels and the powers and dominions, and come over, so kindly He is."
"'Where have you been hiding yourself, Michael John?' He 'll say. 'And how's all your care?'
"'They 're fine, Sir. They 're grand,' I 'll say. 'Sure, 't is to the queen's taste they are--barring a wee bit of trouble that's not worth mentioning.'
"'And, sure, what's troubling you, my poor lad?'
"''T is not worth troubling your Deity about. 'T is not so!'
"'Out with it now, Michael John!' Himself will say.
"''T is that my little people, Sir, do be worrying hard that man is after them a bit strong, and if Yourself would just direct him to be a wee bit easy'--and I 'll tell Him what you all say.
"Is n't that the jewel of a plan? Is n't that the great scheme entirely?"
"We think it's rotten!" champed the crocodile.
"Well, that's all I can do," the angel told them. "If you 've got a better plan--"
"We have decided," the lion rumbled, "that if you could do nothing, we could. We can stalk man as he stalks us. We will not wait for him to come out; we will descend upon him. We will lie in wait for him in the way. I shall come to the villages with my kind and the spotted leopards that purr like the rumbling of drums, and the striped hissing snakes; and the rhinoceros shall lumber through the streets, and the great river-horse shall no longer avoid his frail boats but seek them."
"And my brother the elephant will crush him beneath his terrible knees," the tiger snarled, "and trample his little houses. And the wild boar with tusks like knives will strike at him from the ground. And from the jungle I will come forth with the moon, and when dawn comes there will be wailing, if any are left to wail, and the small winged things of the jungle will assault him night and day, and there will be terror through the land."
"And there will be terror through the sea," the white bear prophesied. "Our sister the whale will no longer flee but fight, and the sails of ships will quiver and the bulwarks give. And we will push icebergs in the paths of iron ships. The millions and millions of herring and cod will help. And the swordfish will founder the life-boats. And out of the gray-green depths of the sea the devil-fish will arise, his long, seeking tentacles over the gunnels--"
"Oh, childer, childer dear!" the angel implored.
"And our cousins the birds will help us," the lion took up the litany. "The eagle and the hawk in their strength, and even the little sparrows in their number. They will buffet with wings, they will peck with their sharp beaks, the innumerable folk of the air."
"And from the North," the tiger promised, "the wolves will come out with their red eyes, their slavering fangs, and the fox will revolt, with his teeth sharp as a dog's."
"And the things of the field will revolt," the bear went on, "the patient kine, the sheep and goats, and the vibrations of battle will put panic on the horse so that he will smash his traces with his hoofs, and smash men's heads. And the turmoil will craze the dog, so that he will attack those he loves."