ocated Dick
with suppressed laughter. He was a great raw-boned savage, with a
throat of indiarubber, and went quickly and quietly on swallowing mass
after mass, with the solemn gravity of an owl. It mattered not a straw
to him that Dick took comparatively small mouthfuls, and nearly choked
on them too for want of liquid to wash them down. Had Dick eaten none
at all he would have uncomplainingly disposed of the whole. Jack the
Giant-Killer's feats were nothing to his, and when at last the bowl was
empty, he stopped short like a machine from which the steam had been
suddenly cut off, and laid down his buffalo horn spoon _without_ a sigh.

Dick sighed, though, with relief and gratitude when his bowl was empty.

"I hope I may never have to do it again," said Joe that night as they
wended their way back to the chief's tent after supper. "I wouldn't be
fit for anything for a week arter it."

Dick could only laugh, for any allusion to the feast instantly brought
back that owl-like gourmand to whom he was so deeply indebted.

Henri groaned. "Oh! mes boy, I am speechless! I am ready for bust!
Oui,--hah! I veesh it vas to-morrow."

Many a time that night did Henri "veesh it vas to-morrow," as he lay
helpless on his back, looking up through the roof of the chief's tent at
the stars, and listening enviously to the plethoric snoring of Joe
Blunt.

He was entertained, however, during those waking hours with a serenade
such as few civilised ears ever listen to. This was nothing else than a
vocal concert performed by all the dogs of the village, and as they
amounted to nearly two thousand, the orchestra was a pretty full one.

These wretches howled as if they had all gone mad. Yet there was
"method in their madness," for they congregated in a crowd before
beginning, and sat down on their haunches. Then one, which seemed to be
the conductor, raised his snout to the sky, and uttered a long, low,
melancholy wail. The others took it up by twos and threes, until the
whole pack had their noses pointing to the stars, and their throats
distended to the uttermost, while a prolonged yell filled the air. Then
it sank gradually, one or two (bad performers probably) making a yelping
attempt to get it up again at the wrong time. Again the conductor
raised his nose, and out it came--full swing. There was no vociferous
barking. It was simple wolfish howling increased in fervour to an
electric yell, with slight barks running cont