our hero enlarged upon--grumps.
two years passed away. the mustang valley settlementadvanced prosperously, despite one or twoattacks 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," as dick's weapon had come to be named,was well known among the hunters and the redskins ofthe border-lands, and in dick's hands its bullets were asdeadly as its owner's eye was quick and true.
crusoe's education, too, had been completed. faithfullyand patiently had his young master trained hismind, until he fitted him to be a meet companion in thehunt. to "carry" and "fetch" were now but triflingportions of the dog's accomplishments. he could divea fathom deep in the lake and bring up any article thatmight have been dropped or thrown in. his swimmingpowers were marvellous, and so powerful were hismuscles that he seemed to spurn the water while passingthrough it, with his broad chest high out of thecurling wave, at a speed that neither man nor beastcould keep up with for a moment. his intellect nowwas sharp and quick as a needle; he never required asecond bidding. when dick went out hunting, heused frequently to drop a mitten or a powder-horn unknownto the dog, and after walking miles away fromit, would stop short and look down into the mild, gentleface of his companion.
"crusoe," he said, in the same quiet tones withwhich he would have addressed a human friend, "i'vedropped my mitten; go fetch it, pup." dick continuedto call it "pup" from habit.
one glance of intelligence passed from crusoe's eye,and in a moment he was away at full gallop, nor didhe rest until the lost article was lying at his master'sfeet. dick was loath to try how far back on his trackcrusoe would run if desired. he had often gone backfive and six miles at a stretch; but his powers did notstop here. he could carry articles back to the spotfrom which they had been taken and leave them there.
he could head the game that his master was pursuingand turn it back; and he would guard any object hewas desired to "watch" with unflinching constancy.
but it would occupy too much space and time toenumerate all crusoe's qualities and powers. hisbiography will unfold them.
in personal appearance he was majestic, havinggrown to an immense size even for a newfoundland.
had his visage been at all wolfish in character, hisaspect would have been terrible. but he possessed inan eminent degree that mild, humble expression of facepeculiar to his race. when roused or excited, andespecially when bounding through the forest with thechase in view, he was absolutely magnificent. at othertimes his gait was slow, and he seemed to prefer a quietwalk with dick varley to anything else under the sun.
but when dick was inclined to be boisterous, crusoe'stail and ears rose at a moment's notice, and he wasready for anything. moreover, he obeyed commandsinstantly and implicitly. in this respect he put toshame most of the boys of the settlement, who were byno means famed for their habits of prompt obedience.
crusoe's eye was constantly watching the face of hismaster. when dick said "go" he went, when he said"come" he came. if he had been in the midst of anexcited bound at the throat of a stag, and dick hadcalled out, "down, crusoe," he would have sunk to theearth like a stone. no doubt it took many months oftraining to bring the dog to this state of perfection,but dick accomplished it by patience, perseverance, andlove.
besides all this, crusoe could speak! he spoke bymeans of the dog's dumb alphabet in a way that defiesdescription. he conversed, so to speak, with his extremities--his headandhis tail. but his eyes, his softbrown eyes, were the chief medium of communication.
if ever the language of the eyes was carried to perfection,it was exhibited in the person of crusoe. but,indeed, it would be difficult to say which part of his expressiveface expressed most--the cocked ears of expectation,the drooped ears of sorrow; the bright, full eyeof joy, the half-closed eye of contentment, and thefrowning eye of indignation accompanied with a slight,a very slight pucker of the nose and a gleam of dazzlingivory--ha! no enemy ever saw this last piece ofcanine language without a full appreciation of what itmeant. then as to the tail--the modulations of meaningin the varied wag of that expressive member--oh!
it's useless to attempt description. mortal man cannotconceive of the delicate shades of sentiment expressibleby a dog's tail, unless he has studied the subject--thewag, the waggle, the cock, the droop, the slope, thewriggle! away with description--it is impotent andvalueless here!
as we have said, crusoe was meek and mild. hehad been bitten, on the sly, by half the ill-natured cursin the settlement, and had only shown his teeth in return.
he had no enmities--though several enemies--andhe had a thousand friends, particularly among theranks of the weak and the persecuted, whom he alwaysprotected and avenged when opportunity offered. asingle instance of this kind will serve to show his character.
one day dick and crusoe were sitting on a rock besidethe lake--the same identical rock near which, whena pup, the latter had received his first lesson. theywere conversing as usual, for dick had elicited such afund of intelligence from the dog's mind, and had injectedsuch wealth of wisdom into it, that he felt convincedit understood every word he said.
"this is capital weather, crusoe; ain't it, pup?"crusoe made a motion with his head which wasquite as significant as a nod.
"ha! my pup, i wish that you and i might go andhave a slap at the grizzly bars, and a look at the rockymountains. wouldn't it be nuts, pup?"crusoe looked dubious.
"what, you don't agree with me! now tell me,pup, wouldn't ye like to grip a bar?"still crusoe looked dubious, but made a gentle motionwith his tail, as though he would have said, "i've seenneither rocky mountains nor grizzly bars, and knownothin' about 'em, but i'm open to conviction.""you're a brave pup," rejoined dick, stroking thedog's huge head affectionately. "i wouldn't give youfor ten times your weight in golden dollars--if therebe sich things."crusoe made no reply whatever to this. he regardedit as a truism unworthy of notice; he evidently felt thata comparison between love and dollars was preposterous.
at this point in the conversation a little dog with alame leg hobbled to the edge of the rocks in front ofthe spot where dick was seated, and looked down intothe water, which was deep there. whether it did sofor the purpose of admiring its very plain visage in theliquid mirror, or finding out what was going on amongthe fish, we cannot say, as it never told us; but at thatmoment 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 beenproud of, and seizing the aggressor by the back, liftedhim off his legs and held him, howling, in the air--atthe same time casting a look towards his master forfurther instructions.
"pitch him in," said dick, making a sign with hishand.
crusoe turned and quietly dropped the dog into thelake. having regarded his struggles there for a fewmoments with grave severity of countenance, he walkedslowly back and sat down beside his master.
the little dog made good its retreat as fast as threelegs would carry it; and the surly dog, having swumashore, retired sulkily, with his tail very much betweenhis legs.
little wonder, then, that crusoe was beloved bygreat and small among the well-disposed of the caninetribe of the mustang valley.
but crusoe was not a mere machine. when notactively engaged in dick varley's service, he busiedhimself with private little matters of his own. heundertook modest little excursions into the woods oralong the margin of the lake, sometimes alone, butmore frequently with a little friend whose whole heartand being seemed to be swallowed up in admiration ofhis big companion. whether crusoe botanized orgeologized on these excursions we will not venture tosay. assuredly he seemed as though he did both, forhe poked his nose into every bush and tuft of moss,and turned over the stones, and dug holes in the ground--and,in short, if he did not understand these sciences,he behaved very much as if he did. certainly heknew as much about them as many of the humanspecies do.
in these walks he never took the slightest notice ofgrumps (that was the little dog's name), but grumpsmade up for this by taking excessive notice of him.
when crusoe stopped, grumps stopped and sat downto look at him. when crusoe trotted on, grumpstrotted on too. when crusoe examined a bush, grumpssat down to watch him; and when he dug a hole,grumps looked into it to see what was there. grumpsnever helped him; his sole delight was in looking on.
they didn't converse much, these two dogs. to be ineach other's company seemed to be happiness enough--atleast grumps thought so.
there was one point at which grumps stopped short,however, and ceased to follow his friend, and that waswhen he rushed headlong into the lake and disportedhimself for an hour at a time in its cool waters. crusoewas, both by nature and training, a splendid water-dog.
grumps, on the contrary, held water in abhorrence; sohe sat on the shore of the lake disconsolate when hisfriend was bathing, and waited till he came out. theonly time when grumps was thoroughly nonplussedwas when dick varley's whistle sounded faintly in thefar distance. then crusoe would prick up his earsand stretch out at full gallop, clearing ditch, and fence,and brake with his strong elastic bound, and leavinggrumps to patter after him as fast as his four-inchlegs would carry him. poor grumps usually arrived atthe village to find both dog and master gone, and wouldbetake himself to his own dwelling, there to lie downand sleep, and dream, perchance, of rambles and gambolswith his gigantic friend.
