A DOG-STORY.
go Tar EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR.") SIR,—I am staying with my son, who is a veterinary surgeon practising in West Virginia, U.S., who is a great lover of animals, and the following anecdote he told me about a dog you may think worthy to be added to the many in- teresting ones already published in the Spectator. One cold winter's morning my son was riding through a very wild part of these wooded mountains, and leading another horse home to its owner ; the weather was very rough, the cold intense, and the snow was so blinding it made it difficult for him to find the road. After going many miles without meeting a human being, he met a man in a waggon moving his house- hold goods, who, on passing him, said, "You had better not go there without you have a revolver, as there is a mad dog on the road ; he's been running round and round my horses' legs and biting at them." My son thanked the man, but said, as he had his work to do, "Mad dog or no mad dog," he must. go on. Before coming to the part of the road where he saw the dog, he noticed by its tracks in the snow that it had been running backwards and forwards, and also it had made a track off the road deeper into the forest. On seeing my son it ran up to him with great demonstration of delight, but as soon as the horses passed the track into the forest he whined, howled, and snapped at the horses' legs. Seeing that the dog was not suffering from rabies, and being exceedingly puzzled by his very strange behaviour, my son dismounted ; and fastening his horses to trees in the road, he followed the dog, who led the way up the track he had made into the forest. At first my son thought the dog must have "treed a racoon," which are common in this country, but if my son stopped a minute to look about him, or to listen, which he did now and then, the dog would rum back and try in every way to tempt him to follow him_ It was still intensely cold, and the snow had drifted high in many places. After a time the dog stopped by the trunk of a fallen tree, where there was the remains of a smouldering fire and a workman's empty dinner-pall, and by it a man was lying in a very exhausted condition. My son could not rouse him, he was quite unconscious ; but after building up the fire and taking off the man's socks and rubbing his feet and hands for a long time, and having partially restored him to consciousness, my son was able partly to support him and partly drag him to the road where the horses were waiting, the dog all the time showing the greatest delight and eager- ness, running on in front, and every few yards, turning round and stopping with his nose, chest, and forelegs on the ground, but with his hind-quarters still erect, he would wait in that position until they came up to him, and then ran on again as before. With great difficulty my son got the man on to a log, and from that on to one of the horses. It is an easy thing to lose oneself in these thickly wooded forests of the Alleghenies, and no doubt the man had lost his way, and had no idea how near he was to the road when he was overcome with exhaustion and cold ; and if it had not been for the devotion and sagacity of his dog, who happily came upon my son, the man must have soon succumbed. On reaching some log huts about a mile further, my son had great difficulty in persuading one of the owners to give the poor man shelter (there are not many good Samaritans to be found in these forests), but by partly interesting them and partly shaming them, he says he did persuade one of them to give the man and his faithful dog shelter and warmth by the fire for the night. I think myself a judicious" tip" which my son gave had far the most persuasive effect, for the "almighty dollar" is the great power in this country. As soon as the dog had got the responsibility off his shoulders on to my son's, he followed his master, but seemed to evince no further interest, and when my son petted him, the dog seemed to ignore him entirely, evidently looking upon my son as only a means to an end, and that end being accomplished, there was nothing further to be got out of him, the dog troubled himself no more about the matter. When my son called late at night on his return journey, the man was still not conscious enough to give any history of himself or his dog.
The dog was a half-bred collie.—I am, Sir, &c., A. P.
Previous page
