h a strange crowd,
the more especially that the ill-looking Indian curs gave him expressive
looks of hatred, and exhibited some desire to rush upon him in a body,
so that he had to keep a sharp look out all round him. When, therefore,
Dick entered the tent Crusoe endeavoured to do so along with him, but he
was met by a blow on the nose from an old squaw, who scolded him in a
shrill voice and bade him begone.

Either our hero's knowledge of the Indian language was insufficient to
enable him to understand the order, or he had resolved not to obey it,
for instead of retreating he drew a deep gurgling breath, curled his
nose, and displayed a row of teeth that caused the old woman to draw
back in alarm. Crusoe's was a forgiving spirit. The instant that
opposition ceased he forgot the injury, and was meekly advancing when
Dick held up his finger.

"Go outside, pup, and wait."

Crusoe's tail drooped; with a deep sigh he turned and left the tent. He
took up a position near the entrance, however, and sat down resignedly.
So meek, indeed, did the poor dog look, that six mangy-looking curs felt
their dastardly hearts emboldened to make a rush at him with boisterous
yells.

Crusoe did not rise. He did not even condescend to turn his head toward
them, but he looked at them out of the corner of his dark eye,
wrinkled--very slightly--the skin of his nose, exhibited two beautiful
fangs, and gave utterance to a soft remark, that might be described as
quiet, deep-toned gargling. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough
for the valiant six, who paused and snarled violently.

It was a peculiar trait of Crusoe's gentle nature, that, the moment any
danger ceased, he resumed his expression of nonchalant gravity. The
expression on this occasion was misunderstood, however, and, as about
two dozen additional yelping dogs had joined the ranks of the enemy,
they advanced in close order to the attack.

Crusoe still sat quiet and kept his head high, but he _looked_ at them
again and exhibited four fangs for their inspection. Among the pack
there was one Indian dog of large size--almost as large as Crusoe
himself--which kept well in the rear, and apparently urged the lesser
dogs on. The little dogs didn't object, for little dogs are generally
the most pugnacious. At this big dog Crusoe directed a pointed glance,
but said nothing. Meanwhile a particularly small and vicious cur, with
a mere rag of a tail, crept round by the back of