AN HOUR IN BICYCLELAND.
Reading edition
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF A PNEUMATIC CIRCUS.
BY HAYDEN CARRUTH.
I.
Kenneth had got his bicycle at last, and he was taking his first long ride on it. It was warm, and the road seemed to be all up hill. "If this road keeps on like this much longer," said Kenneth to himself, "I'll run into the moon. I guess papa was right when he said that bicycle-riding reminds him a good deal of work in its milder stages. However, I'd rather ride than work."
He went on a little farther, but the afternoon sun shone down hotter and hotter, and the road still seemed to have more uphill than a well-behaved road ought to have. After a while he came to a fine grove of trees. "I think I'll just turn in here and rest a few minutes, and then go back," said Kenneth. "Seems to me I ought to be able to coast about three-quarters of the way home—unless the road tilts the other way before I start, like a seesaw," he went on. He trundled his wheel into the grove out of sight of the road, stood it against a big tree, and lay down on the soft grass-covered ground in the shade.
"It seems to me," he mused, "that bicycles ought to be made so they would run themselves like—like—like horses. Then hills wouldn't make any difference." He was speaking very slowly, and half wondering if talking wasn't work too. "Then it wouldn't make any difference if the road did tilt up or—or—or turn sommersaults if it wanted to. Just think of a road ten miles long turning a sommersault." He laughed a little at the idea, but that was work too. "I—I wonder if bicycles couldn't be—be trained to—to—." It really was too hard work to talk. He hadn't noticed that another wheelman had come into the grove to rest, and left his bicycle by the same tree.
"Trained to do what?" said the other, who was enough bigger than Kenneth to be a young man. "To talk like a parrot, or to sit up and beg like a pug-dog?"
Kenneth laughed at the idea of a bicycle sitting up and hanging down its handle-bar and begging; and then he answered:
"Oh, no; just to go themselves, you know." The presence of the stranger seemed to revive him, so he sat up and looked at the other.
"Oh, shucks!" said the young man. "Trained to go themselves! Where did you come from?"
"Smithville," replied Kenneth.
"Thought so," answered the other. "You're in Bicycle-land now, where they are trained to go themselves. Come here!" he said, snapping his finger at his wheel, which rolled over and stopped by his side. "That's the way we have 'em trained here."
"Well, that's what I meant," returned Kenneth, not liking the lofty tone of the other very well. "That's precisely the way I am going to train mine." And he turned and snapped his fingers at his wheel, and it came toward him, though it wavered a good deal, and would have fallen if he hadn't caught it.
"That's very good," said the young man; "very good indeed. You have an extremely intelligent bicycle. Keep training it for a week; and it will go almost as well as mine."
"There aren't any pedals on yours," said Kenneth, as he looked at the other's wheel.
"Well, there aren't any pedals on a horse either, are there?" asked the young man, promptly. "Did you ever see a man riding a horse in Smithville, and pumping him along with pedals?"
"I forgot," said Kenneth. "I'll take them off of mine," and he reached down and did so. "What shall I do with them?"
"Oh, throw 'em in the ash-can," said the other, airily. "They're no good."
Kenneth didn't see any ash-can, so he tossed them behind some bushes, and began to give his bicycle practice at going alone about on the grass-plot. It learned rapidly, and he soon ventured to mount it, and after one or two tumbles it circled around, went ahead, and backed up very well indeed.
"Well, now, what shall we do?" asked the young man.
"I hardly know," answered Kenneth. "You're better acquainted with the country than I. You suggest something."
"I was on my way to the circus," said the other. "Suppose you come along. They say it's a very good show. It certainly has one great curiosity which I am anxious to see."
"What's that?" asked Kenneth.
"They have in this circus," answered the young man, speaking very slowly and impressively—"they have in a cage—a—live—horse!"
"Well, I don't—" began Kenneth; then he checked himself and went on, "I don't see where they got that."
"Captured it in the Smithville country at great expense and loss of life," replied the young man, proudly. "The Largest and most Ferocious Horse ever in the Captivity of Man. This Savage and Awe-inspiring Beast will daily Devour in Full View of the Breathless Audience a Peck of Oats and an Armful of Hay. At the Sight of his Food he Utters Blood-curdling Roars which bring Spasms of Fear to the Bravest. Don't miss this Chance of a Lifetime. I was just quoting from the bills," explained the young man hurriedly, as he lowered his voice again.
They then mounted their bicycles and rode away out of the grove and down a side road. The pedals being gone, Kenneth rested his feet on the coasters, as did his companion, and they sped along faster than he had ever ridden on the wheel before. It was, in fact, just like coasting down a long steep hill, but without the danger, as he soon came to have perfect confidence in the ability of his newly trained steed to keep upright.
"You see," said the young man, "that it's the simplest thing in the world to train a bicycle. Whoa!" he shouted, and his wheel began to stop. "Get up!" and it increased its speed again. "Yours doesn't know that yet, but it will soon learn. By-the-way," he continued, "they say a man actually goes into the cage with that horse at the circus. Don't fail to see Señior Jimjamdaza enter Fearlessly into the Cage of the Raging Bucephalus and Handle him as a Child might Handle a Bicycle. Remember, one Ticket admits to each and all of the Stupendous Wonders contained in this Gigantic Tentatorial Aggregation of— Oh, I beg pardon; those bills will keep running in my head," said the young man, just a little sheepishly.
"Oh, I don't mind," answered Kenneth; "only I think it's a good deal of a fuss to make over a horse. Why, I wouldn't be afraid to go into his cage myself."
"Now, see here," said the young man, "that won't do, you know. You can't fool me that way. You must think I'm green. The horse is the worst animal that ranges the Perilous and Deadly Jungle, spreading Terror and Destruction wherever he chances to show the Fiery Fury of his Face, and only Captured by our Agents after weeks of Superhuman Effort involving the Dreadful loss of Precious Life and the Sacrifice of Untold Treasure— There I go again, quoting those bills; but, anyhow, you see what sort of an animal the horse is. And still you pretend to say that you wouldn't be afraid to enter the cage with one!"
"Well, I wouldn't," insisted Kenneth. "Didn't you ever have horses in this country?"
"They became extinct ages ago," answered the young man. (Kenneth thought of the pictures of mastodons and such things which he had seen in his physical geography book at school.) "Ages ago," repeated the young man. "Sometimes we find remains of 'em. Only last week a man discovered some horse bones while digging the cellar for a new bicycle-factory."
They had been wheeling along pretty fast, and had made several turns. There were a great many other people on the road, mostly going in the same direction as they were, evidently also on their way to the circus. Nearly all of them were riding bicycles precisely as they were, though a few were in carriages driving bicycles, usually two side by side. Suddenly at a sharp turn in the road they came face to face with a long bill-board covered with immense colored pictures and letters as high as Kenneth. The young man stopped the moment he saw it, and said:
"There, see that! There's a true picture of the gentle beast you say you would like to go in with."
Kenneth looked, and saw a picture of an animal ten or twelve feet high, with a great mouth like a hippopotamus, wide open, showing rows of teeth six inches long. A lot of hunters and black natives were trying to get out of his way, but the biggest hunter had fallen, and the horse was about to come down upon him with his forward feet. The animal's eyes seemed to be flashing fire, and he had a mane like a lion.
"How long do you think you'd like to stay in a cage with an animal like that?" asked the young man, proudly. "Like to sit down with him and do your sums, perhaps? Or maybe you'd rather lie down on the floor of the cage and take a nap—eh?"
"I can't say about that sort of a horse," admitted Kenneth, doubtfully. "I never saw a horse just like that, you know."
"See what it says," cried the young man. "'The Dreadful Terror in his Native Jungle! Captured after Awful Weeks of Cyclonic Struggle! To be seen in the Full and Excruciating Exuberance of his own Tremendous Verbosity in this Show alone!' What do you think of that?"
"Well, I don't know, hardly. I can tell better after I have seen the horse," said Kenneth.
"Yes, and we must be moving or we'll be late," returned the young man. "Here we go!" and off along the road they went again. In a few minutes they came to the circus-grounds. There were two large tents connected, with many smaller ones standing alone. There were great banners everywhere showing pictures of the wonders within, the largest being devoted to the horse. They left their bicycles in a shed, and after buying tickets, went into the first of the big tents. There was a great crowd inside, especially over at one side. "I think the horse is over there," whispered the young man. Just then they heard a man shouting:
"This way, ladies and gentlemen, to see the Mighty Monarch of the Trackless Jungle, the only Horse ever captured by Man. He is now about to be fed a Peck of Hardened Oats, which he will Crunch and Rend by the Terrific Force of his Unaided and Unassisted Jaws! Step up, ladies and gentlemen; step up!"
"We've got to see that horse if half of our bones are broken," exclaimed the young man, as he seized Kenneth by the arm, and began to force their way through the crowd.