His many wounds were very painful, and after a quarter of a mile he stopped to lick them. When he tried to catch his weight on the broken front foot, the bones grated sickeningly, but Sean did not cry out. Curling his paw, he stopped trying to lick his hurts and limped on three feet.
Again and again he had to stop to rest, and at no time could he travel swiftly. Twilight was gathering over the pine grove when Sean approached it. As soon as he was close enough to read with his nose the story of what had happened there, he tried to hurry.
Plain in the pine grove were the scents of three men he knew: Billy Dash, Danny Pickett, and Crosby Marlett. But Sean knew even before he entered the pine grove that Penny and the pups were not there. His home had been raided, his family was gone. Sean limped slowly to the mouth of the cave and stood there, trembling. His head drooped so low that his nose almost brushed the snow’s crust. He had won the battle, but he had lost everything else. Suddenly he halted. The wind was again sweeping out of the valley and up the ridge, so that Sean could get no clear scent from the pines on the ridge. He was weary to the point of exhaustion and he was heartsick. Just the same, he knew there was something else in the grove.
“Hello, Dog,” a soft voice said.
Half-hidden in the gathering twilight, Billy Dash stood in the pines a little way off. He made no effort to move nearer, and Sean made none to run away.
The big Setter stood still, puzzled and not at all sure what to do. His first obligation was to Penny and the pups, but Penny and the pups were gone. They had been taken away by men whom he knew and who had never harmed him. And another, the one who had won his devotion in his kennel days, was still here.
Billy Dash said, “It’s up to you, Dog.”
The voice, and the presence, finally touched the proper chord in Sean. His misery and heartbreak faded, and his cuts and aches were momentarily forgotten. He limped slowly across the snow toward Billy Dash, and unhesitatingly laid his head on Billy’s knee. Billy Dash’s voice shook.
“I thought you’d come back heah, Dog. Nevah did think you’d run out on youah family.” Very gently his pliant fingers slipped up and down Sean’s broken leg. Billy felt Sean’s other wounds. “I know, Dog. You been fightin’ somethin’ that would have fought Penny. That’s why you didn’t stay heah when we came. You had to be away. But don’t trouble youah head any mo’. We can fix you up. Let’s get some wood lighted.”
Sean followed contentedly behind when Billy gathered wood for their fire, and he lay down in the snow while Billy arranged it. He had run very hard, and he had fought very hard, and some decisions were just not for dogs to make. From now on Sean would always know exactly what to do because he would always know exactly what Billy wanted. The big Setter watched, fascinated, while Billy lighted the first fire that had warmed Sean since last summer.
Billy took some bannock and venison out of his pack sack and divided it exactly in half. Sean ate hungrily, knowing that sharing his master’s food was a good dog’s just due. The fire flared brighter. Billy’s arm stole out to slide around Sean’s neck, and the big Setter wriggled contentedly as he watched the fire.
Billy was watching the fire, too, with the contentment of a mind made up. No longer was he undecided, or fearful, for certainly a man had to be at least as good as his dog. Sean, too, might have run from his enemy, his problem, but he hadn’t. He had faced responsibility as best he could. Billy could do no less.
Sean limped beside him when Billy broke off small pine branches and laid them on the snow. He spread his blanket on them, and pushed a reflecting log into place. Both stretched out.
Not tonight, but tomorrow, they would make a very slow trip back to Billy’s cabin. There Sean’s broken leg could be splinted and given time to heal. After that …
“Yes, suh,” Billy said softly. “Aftah that you and me will be goin’ back to Danny Pickett’s.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jim Kjelgaard spent his boyhood in country much like that
described in this book. “Those mountain farms,” he remembers, “produced more rocks to the acre than anything else. But they provided my brothers and me with plenty of ammunition for fighting the neighboring boys across the creek. One of our jobs was to shoo the cows out of the corn patch, which was more exciting than it sounds. There were always two or three yearling bulls in the dairy herd, and when we wanted to get home quickly, we’d each grab one by the tail. The bulls would light out for the barn, their feet hitting the ground about every two yards, and ours in proportion.
But the really entrancing thing was the forest that surrounded us: mountains filled with game, and trout streams loaded with
fish.”
Jim’s first book was Forest Patrol, based on the
wilderness experiences of himself and his brother, a forest ranger.
Big Red, Irish Red, and Outlaw Red are dog stories about Irish setters. A Nose for Trouble and Trailing Trouble are adventure-mysteries centered around a young game warden and his man-hunting bloodhound. Kalak of the Ice (a polar bear) and Chip, the Dam Builder (a beaver) are wild-animal stories. Snow Dog and Wild Trek describe the adventures of a trapper and his half-wild dog. Haunt Fox and Lion Hound are stories written from the viewpoints of both the hunter and the hunted. Rebel Siege and Buckskin Brigade are tales of American frontiersmen, and Fire-Hunter is a story about prehistoric man.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Show Dog
Chapter 2: Uncle Hat
Chapter 3: Wanderers
Chapter 4: Slasher
Chapter 5: Penny
Chapter 6: Hound Pack
Chapter 7: Abduction
Chapter 8: Fugitives
Chapter 9: Frozen Hunger
Chapter 10: Wolf Trap
Chapter 11: Night Journey
Chapter 12: The Feud
Chapter 13: The Battle
About the Author
Outlaw Red Page 15
