The Dragonfly Pool

The Berganian authorities are very anxious to make stronger links with other European democracies and to foster friendship between the children of different nations as one of the most effective ways of securing world peace.

Quite a small group would suffice, and we would offer you assistance in the matters of group passports, visas, and travel assistance generally.

Should you feel able to comply with this request, please get in touch with me at the ministry.

Yours sincerely,

(Sir) Alfred Hallinger

Daley folded up the letter and looked around at the meeting.

“It’s quite an honor to be asked. As I say, I shall of course turn it down but—”

“Why?”

The clear voice carried to all parts of the hall. Julia grasped her friend’s arm, trying to quiet her but without success. The peppermint disappeared down Tally’s throat.

“Why?” she said again. “Why would you refuse?”

She had forgotten that she was not going to speak again. One word had leaped out at her from the letter that Daley read.

“Bergania”—it was more than two weeks since she had seen the travelogue, yet she found she could remember the film in detail. She could see the snowy mountain range with the central jagged peak, and the fir trees running up the slope toward them. She could see the river and the spire of the church where St. Aurelia was buried, and the palace. She could see the proud king on his horse and, as clearly as if she was there, the young prince in his troublesome helmet trying to blow the plumes out of his eyes.

“Why can’t we send anybody?” said Tally yet again. “The King of Bergania is very brave; he said no to Hitler.”

“Because,” said the headmaster patiently, “we have never done folk dancing here at Delderton and it is less than a month till the festival. And there are other reasons.”

“Just because we’ve never done it doesn’t mean we can’t do it. There’s probably a book about it; there’s a book about everything. It must be very difficult to stand up to Hitler. It wasn’t just that he said no about letting the troops go through his country, but he also won’t let Hitler dig up minerals in his mountains to use for armaments. And I know people like Tod think there shouldn’t be kings, but if there are and they’re brave and resolute then surely we should show them that we’re on their side.”

“I don’t see how it would help the Berganians if we went and did folk dancing all over them,” said one of the senior girls, “especially when we haven’t any idea how to do it.”

“It’s to do with just being there,” said Tally. “They invited us so they must want us to come, and refusing would be a snub.”

She looked around the room for support but no one seemed ready to back her up. Even her own friends were silent.

“Folk dancing’s silly,” said a boy with huge spectacles. “People wind ribbons around a pole and get tangled up.”

“Or they wear idiotic clothes—trousers with bells on them and bobbles on their hats,” said Ronald Peabody.

“Only sissies do folk dancing,” came Verity’s disdainful voice.

“Really?” The deep voice came from the back of the hall. Matteo had appeared to be asleep. “You surprise me.” He uncoiled himself and moved forward to the center of the room, and the children made way for him. “You surprise me very much.”

Everybody fell silent, watching him as he turned and faced the meeting.

“You might of course call the Falanian Indians sissy. Certainly they do a folk dance before they dismember their enemies and nail them to trees. There are even bells—or rather gongs—involved, though not, if I recall, ribbons. It takes an Indian child five years to learn the steps, and they are not allowed to take part in it till they can crunch up the skull of a jaguar with their bare hands.

“And there are the leopard hunters of Nepal. They do a folk dance to prepare themselves for the chase, which includes leaping over pits of burning cinders with a firebrand in their mouth. The steps go something like this.”

And without any warning Matteo leaped high into the air, seemed almost to hang there, and came down with a bloodcurdling howl about a foot away from David Prosser, who stepped back with an agitated squeak.

“I could give you more examples,” said Matteo, “but I just wanted to make the point that whatever folk dancing is, it’s not sissy.”

Daley shook his head. That Tally wanted the school to march to the help of the Berganians was to be expected—but he had not thought that Matteo would stab him in the back.