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bound with a thread either of red or green； the red denoting
the highest rank。 According to custom； they stripped the
dead； and threw their bodies over the precipice。 When their
comrades came； they found their corpses stark and gashed；
but round both wrists of every British hero was twined the
red thread！
This anecdote serves its purpose of illustration
perfectly well； but considered as a separate
story it is somewhat too explanatory in diction；
and too condensed in form。 Just as the long
story is analysed for reduction of given details；
so this must be analysed；to find the details
implied。 We have to read into it again all that
has been left between the lines。
Moreover； the order must be slightly changed；
if we are to end with the proper 〃snap；〃 the
final sting of surprise and admiration given by
the point of the story； the point must be prepared
for。 The purpose of the original is equally
well served by the explanation at the end； but
we must never forget that the place for the
climax； or effective point in a story told； is the
last thing said。 That is what makes a story
〃go off〃 well。
Imagining vividly the situation suggested； and
keeping the logical sequence of facts in mind；
shall we not find the story telling itself to boys
and girls in somewhat this form？
THE RED THREAD OF COURAGE＇1＇
＇1＇ See also The Red Thread of Honour； by Sir Francis Doyle；
in Lyra Heroica；
This story which I am going to tell you is a
true one。 It happened while the English troops
in India were fighting against some of the native
tribes。 The natives who were making trouble
were people from the hill…country； called
Hillsmen； and they were strong enemies。 The
English knew very little about them； except
their courage； but they had noticed one peculiar
custom； after certain battles；the Hillsmen had
a way of marking the bodies of their greatest
chiefs who were killed in battle by binding a red
thread about the wrist； this was the highest
tribute they could pay a hero。 The English；
however； found the common men of them quite
enough to handle； for they had proved themselves
good fighters and clever at ambushes。
One day； a small body of the English had
marched a long way into the hill country； after
the enemy； and in the afternoon they found
themselves in a part of the country strange
even to the guides。 The men moved forward
very slowly and cautiously； for fear of an
ambush。 The trail led into a narrow valley with
very steep； high； rocky sides； topped with woods
in which the enemy might easily hide。
Here the soldiers were ordered to advance
more quickly； though with caution； to get out
of the dangerous place。
After a little they came suddenly to a place
where the passage was divided in two by a big
three…cornered boulder which seemed to rise
from the midst of the valley。 The main line
of men kept to the right； to save crowding the
path； a sergeant and eleven men took the left；
meaning to go round the rock and meet the rest
beyond it。
They had been in the path only a few minutes
when they saw that the rock was not a single
boulder at all； but an arm of the left wall of the
valley； and that they were marching into a deep
ravine with no outlet except the way they came。
Both sides were sheer rock； almost perpendicular；
with thick trees at the top； in front of
them the ground rose in a steep hill； bare of
woods。 As they looked up； they saw that the
top was barricaded by the trunks of trees； and
guarded by a strong body of Hillsmen。 As the
English hesitated； looking at this； a shower of
spears fell from the wood's edge； aimed by
hidden foes。 The place was a death trap。
At this moment； their danger was seen by the
officer in command of the main body； and he
signalled to the sergeant to retreat。
By some terrible mischance； the signal was
misunderstood。 The men took it for the signal
to charge。 Without a moment's pause； straight
up the slope； they charged on the run； cheering
as they ran。
Some were killed by the spears that were
thrown from the cliffs； before they had gone
half way； some were stabbed as they reached
the crest； and hurled backward from the precipice；
two or three got to the top； and fought
hand to hand with the Hillsmen。 They were
outnumbered； seven to one； but when the last
of the English soldiers lay dead； twice their
number of Hillsmen lay dead around them！
When the relief party reached the spot； later
in the day； they found the bodies of their
comrades； full of wounds； huddled over and in the
barricade； or crushed on the rocks below。
They were mutilated and battered； and bore
every sign of the terrible struggle。 BUT ROUND
BOTH WRISTS OF EVERY BRITISH SOLDIER WAS BOUND
THE RED THREAD！
The Hillsmen had paid greater honour to
their heroic foes than to the bravest of their
own brave dead。
Another instance is the short poem； which；
while being perfectly simple； is rich in suggestion
of more than the young child will see for
himself。 The following example shows the
working out of details in order to provide a
satisfactorily rounded story。
THE ELF AND THE DORMOUSE＇1＇
＇1＇ Adapted from The Elf and the Dormouse； by Oliver
Herford； in A Treasury of Verse for Little Children。
（Harrap。 1s。 net。）
Once upon a time a dormouse lived in the
wood with his mother。 She had made a snug
little nest； but Sleepy…head； as she called her
little mousie； loved to roam about among the
grass and fallen leaves； and it was a hard task
to keep him at home。 One day the mother went
off as usual to look for food； leaving Sleepy…
head curled up comfortably in a corner of
the nest。 〃He will lie there safely till I
come back；〃 she thought。 Presently； however；
Sleepy…head opened his eyes and thought he
would like to take a walk out in the fresh
air。 So he crept out of the nest and through
the long grass that nodded over the hole in
the bank。 He ran here and he ran there； stopping
again an again to cock his little ears for
sound of any creeping thing that might be close
at hand。 His little fur coat was soft and silky
as velvet。 Mother had licked it clean before
starting her day's work； you may be sure。 As
Sleepy…head moved from place to place his long
tail swayed from side to side and tickled the
daisies so that they could not hold themselves
still for laughing。
Presently something very cold fell on Sleepy…
head's nose。 What could it be？ He put up
his little paw and dabbed at the place。 Then
the same thing happened to his tail。 He
whisked it quickly round to the front。 Ah； it
was raining！ Now Sleepy…head couldn't bear
rain； and he had got a long way from home。
What would mother say if his nice furry coat
got wet and draggled？ He crept under a bush；
but soon the rain found him out。 Then he ran
to a tree； but this was poor shelter。 He began
to think that he was in for a soaking when
what should he spy； a little distance off； but
a fine toadstool which stood bolt upright just
like an umbrella。 The next moment Sleepy…
head was crawling underneath the friendly
shelter。 He fixed himself up as snugly as he
could； with his little nose upon his paws and his
little tail curled round all； and before you could
count six； eight； ten； twenty； he was fast asleep。
Now it happened that Sleepy…head was not
the only creature that was caught by the rain
that morning in the wood。 A little elf had
been flitting about in search of fun or mischief；
and he； too； had got far from home when the
raindrops began to come pattering through the
leafy roof of the beautiful wood。 It would never
do to get his pretty wings wet； for he hated to
walkit was such slow work and； besides； he
might meet some big wretched animal that could
run faster than himself。 However； he w