The Dog Crusoe and his Master

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  OUR HERO ENLARGED UPON--GRUMPS.

  Two years passed away--the Mustang Valley settlement advancedprosperously, despite one or two attacks made upon it by the savages,who were, however, firmly repelled; Dick Varley had now become a man,and his pup Crusoe had become a full-grown dog. The "silver rifle," asDick's weapon had come to be named, was well-known among the hunters andthe Red-skins of the border-lands, and in Dick's hands its bullets wereas deadly as its owner's eye was quick and true.

  Crusoe's education, too, had been completed. Faithfully and patientlyhad his young master trained his mind, until he fitted him to be a meetcompanion in the hunt. To "carry" and "fetch" were now but triflingportions of the dog's accomplishments. He could dive a fathom deep inthe lake and bring up any article that might have been dropped or thrownin. His swimming powers were marvellous, and so powerful were hismuscles, that he seemed to spurn the water while passing through it,with his broad chest high out of the curling wave, at a speed thatneither man nor beast could keep up with for a moment. His intellectnow was sharp and quick as a needle; he never required a second bidding.When Dick went out hunting he used frequently to drop a mitten or apowder-horn unknown to the dog, and, after walking miles away from it,would stop short and look down into the mild, gentle face of hiscompanion.

  "Crusoe," he said, in the same quiet tones with which he would haveaddressed a human friend, "I've dropped my mitten, go fetch it, pup."Dick continued to call it "pup" from habit.

  One glance of intelligence passed from Crusoe's eye, and in a moment hewas away at full gallop; nor did he rest until the lost article waslying at his master's feet. Dick was loath to try how far back on histrack Crusoe would run if desired. He had often gone back five and sixmiles at a stretch; but his powers did not stop here. He could carryarticles back to the spot from which they had been taken and leave themthere. He could head the game that his master was pursuing and turn itback; and he would guard any object he was desired to "watch" withunflinching constancy. But it would occupy too much space and time toenumerate all Crusoe's qualities and powers. His biography will unfoldthem.

  In personal appearance he was majestic, having grown to an immense sizeeven for a Newfoundland. Had his visage been at all wolfish incharacter, his aspect would have been terrible. But he possessed in aneminent degree that mild, humble expression of face peculiar to hisrace. When roused or excited, and especially when bounding through theforest with the chase in view, he was absolutely magnificent. At othertimes his gait was slow, and he seemed to prefer a _quiet_ walk withDick Varley to anything else under the sun. But when Dick was inclinedto be boisterous Crusoe's tail and ears rose at a moment's notice, andhe was ready for _anything_. Moreover, he obeyed commands instantly andimplicitly. In this respect he put to shame most of the _boys_ of thesettlement, who were by no means famed for their habits of promptobedience.

  Crusoe's eye was constantly watching the face of his master. When Dicksaid "Go" he went, when he said "Come" he came. If he had been in themidst of an excited bound at the throat of a stag, and Dick had calledout, "Down, Crusoe," he would have sunk to the earth like a stone. Nodoubt it took many months of training to bring the dog to this state ofperfection; but Dick accomplished it by patience, perseverance, and_love_.

  Besides all this, Crusoe could speak! He spoke by means of the dog'sdumb alphabet in a way that defies description. He conversed, so tospeak, with his extremities--his head and his tail. But his eyes, hissoft brown eyes, were the chief medium of communication. If ever thelanguage of the eyes was carried to perfection, it was exhibited in theperson of Crusoe. But, indeed, it would be difficult to say which partof his expressive face expressed most. The cocked ears of expectation;the drooped ears of sorrow; the bright, full eye of joy; the half-closedeye of contentment; and the frowning eye of indignation accompanied witha slight, a very slight, pucker of the nose and a gleam of dazzlingivory--ha! no enemy ever saw this last piece of canine language withouta full appreciation of what it meant. Then as to the tail--themodulations of meaning in the varied wag of that expressive member! Oh!it's useless to attempt description. Mortal man cannot conceive of thedelicate shades of sentiment expressible by a dog's tail, unless he hasstudied the subject--the wag, the waggle, the cock, the droop, theslope, the wriggle! Away with description--it is impotent and valuelesshere!

  As we have said, Crusoe was meek and mild. He had been bitten, on thesly, by half the ill-natured curs in the settlement, and had only shownhis teeth in return. He had no enmities--though several enemies--and hehad a thousand friends, particularly among the ranks of the weak and thepersecuted, whom he always protected and avenged when opportunityoffered. A single instance of this kind will serve to show hischaracter.

  One day Dick and Crusoe were sitting on a rock beside the lake--the sameidentical rock near which, when a pup, the latter had received his firstlesson. They were conversing as usual, for Dick had elicited such afund of intelligence from the dog's mind, and had injected such wealthof wisdom into it, that he felt convinced it understood every word hesaid.

  "This is capital weather, Crusoe; ain't it pup?"

  Crusoe made a motion with his head which was quite as significant as anod.

  "Ha! my pup, I wish that you and I might go and have a slap at thegrizzly bars and a look at the Rocky Mountains. Wouldn't it be nuts,pup?"

  Crusoe looked dubious.

  "What, you don't agree with me! Now, tell me, pup, wouldn't ye like togrip a bar?"

  Still Crusoe looked dubious, but made a gentle motion with his tail, asthough he would have said, "I've seen neither Rocky Mountains norgrizzly bars, and know nothin' about 'em, but I'm open to conviction."

  "You're a brave pup," rejoined Dick, stroking the dog's huge headaffectionately. "I wouldn't give you for ten times your weight ingolden dollars--if there be sich things."

  Crusoe made no reply whatever to this. He regarded it as a truismunworthy of notice; he evidently felt that a comparison between love anddollars was preposterous.

  At this point in the conversation a little dog with a lame leg hobbledto the edge of the rocks in front of the spot where Dick was seated, andlooked down into the water, which was deep there. Whether it did so forthe purpose of admiring its very plain visage in the liquid mirror, orfinding out what was going on among the fish, we cannot say, as it nevertold us; but at that moment a big, clumsy, savage-looking dog rushed outfrom the neighbouring thicket and began to worry it.

  "Punish him, Crusoe," said Dick quickly.

  Crusoe made one bound that a lion might have been proud of, and seizingthe aggressor by the back, lifted him off his legs and held him,howling, in the air--at the same time casting a look towards his masterfor further instructions.

  "Pitch him in," said Dick, making a sign with his hand.

  Crusoe turned and quietly dropped the dog into the lake. Havingregarded his struggles there for a few moments with grave severity ofcountenance, he walked slowly back and sat down beside his master.

  The little dog made good its retreat as fast as three legs would carryit, and the surly dog, having swam ashore, retired sulkily, with histail very much between his legs.

  Little wonder, then, that Crusoe was beloved by great and small amongthe well-disposed of the canine tribes of the Mustang Valley.

  But Crusoe was not a mere machine. When not actively engaged in DickVarley's service, he busied himself with private little matters of hisown. He undertook modest little excursions into the woods or along themargin of the lake, sometimes alone, but more frequently with a littlefriend whose whole heart and being seemed to be swallowed up inadmiration of his big companion. Whether Crusoe botanised or geologisedon these excursions we will not venture to say. Assuredly he seemed asthough he did both, for he poked his nose into every bush and tuft ofmoss, and turned over the stones, and dug holes in the ground--and, inshort, if he did not understand these sciences, he behaved very much asif he did. Certainly he k
new as much about them as many of the humanspecies do.

  In these walks he never took the slightest notice of Grumps (that wasthe little dog's name), but Grumps made up for this by taking excessivenotice of _him_. When Crusoe stopped, Grumps stopped and sat down tolook at him. When Crusoe trotted on, Grumps trotted on too. WhenCrusoe examined a bush Grumps sat down to watch him, and when he dug ahole Grumps looked into it to see what was there. Grumps never helpedhim; his sole delight was in looking on. They didn't converse much,these two dogs. To be in each other's company seemed to be happinessenough--at least Grumps thought so.

  There was one point at which Grumps stopped short, however, and ceasedto follow his friend; and that was when he rushed headlong into the lakeand disported himself for an hour at a time in its cool waters. Crusoewas, both by nature and training, a splendid water-dog. Grumps, on thecontrary, held water in abhorrence, so he sat on the shores of the lakedisconsolate when his friend was bathing, and waited till he came out.The only time when Grumps was thoroughly nonplussed, was when DickVarley's whistle sounded faintly in the far distance. Then Crusoe wouldprick up his ears, and stretch out at full gallop, clearing ditch, andfence, and brake with his strong elastic bound, and leaving Grumps topatter after him as fast as his four-inch legs would carry him. PoorGrumps usually arrived at the village, to find both dog and master gone,and would betake himself to his own dwelling, there to lie down andsleep, and dream, perchance, of rambles and gambols with his giganticfriend.