threats of punishment: "Hur-r-r-r! Brusa! B-r-r-r-usa!! you
B-r-r-usa!!!" Never a bit could Brusa be stopped once he got fairly
under way. Up hill, and down hill, and over the wild gorges he would
fly till entirely out of sight. In about half an hour he generally
joined the train again, looking, to say the least of it, very
sheepish. I have already spoken of the gravity and dignity of Zoega's
manner. On occasions of this kind it assumed a parental severity truly
impressive. Slowly dismounting from his horse, as if a great duty
devolved upon him, he would unlock one of the boxes on the pack-horse,
take therefrom a piece of bread, deliberately grease the same with
butter, and then holding it forth, more in sorrow than in anger,
invite Brusa to refresh himself after his fatiguing chase of the
sheep. The struggle between a guilty conscience and a sharp appetite
would now become painfully perceptible on the countenance of Brusa as
well as in the relaxation of his tail. As he approached the tempting
morsel nothing could be more abject than his manner--stealing furtive
glances at the eyes of his master, and trying to conciliate him by
wagging the downcast tail between his legs. Alas, poor Brusa! I
suspected it from the beginning. What do you think of yourself now?
Grabbed by the back of the neck in the powerful hands of Geir Zoega!
Not a particle of use for you to whine, and yelp, and try to beg off.
You have been a very bad fellow, and must suffer the consequences.
With dreadful deliberation Zoega draws forth his whip, which has been
carefully hidden in the folds of his coat all this time, and, holding
the victim of his displeasure in mid-air, thus, as I take it,
apostrophizes him in his native language: "O Brusa! have I not fed
thee and cherished thee with parental care? (Whack! yelp! and whack
again.) Have I not been to thee tender and true? (Whack! whack!
accompanied by heart-rending yelps and cries.) And this is thy
ingratitude! This is thy return for all my kindness! O how sharper
than a serpent's tooth is the sting of ingratitude! (Whack.) I warned
thee about those sheep--those harmless and tender little lambs! I
begged thee with tears in my eyes not to run after them; but thou wert
stubborn in thine iniquity; and now what can I do but--(whack)--but
punish thee according to my promise? Wilt thou ever do it again? O
say, Brusa, will thou ever again be guilty of this disreputable
conduct? (A melancholy howl.) It pains me