at at home,
Karr would lie before the door and keep a close watch on every one who
came and went.
When all was quiet at the lodge, when no footsteps were heard on the
road, and the game-keeper was working in his garden, Karr would amuse
himself playing with the baby elk.
At first the dog had no desire to leave his master even for a moment.
Since he accompanied him everywhere, he went with him to the cow shed.
When he gave the elk calf its milk, the dog would sit outside the stall
and gaze at it. The game-keeper called the calf Grayskin because he
thought it did not merit a prettier name, and Karr agreed with him on
that point.
Every time the dog looked at it he thought that he had never seen
anything so ugly and misshapen as the baby elk, with its long, shambly
legs, which hung down from the body like loose stilts. The head was
large, old, and wrinkled, and it always drooped to one side. The skin
lay in tucks and folds, as if the animal had put on a coat that had not
been made for him. Always doleful and discontented, curiously enough he
jumped up every time Karr appeared as if glad to see him.
The elk calf became less hopeful from day to day, did not grow any, and
at last he could not even rise when he saw Karr. Then the dog jumped up
into the crib to greet him, and thereupon a light kindled in the eyes of
the poor creature--as if a cherished longing were fulfilled.
After that Karr visited the elk calf every day, and spent many hours
with him, licking his coat, playing and racing with him, till he taught
him a little of everything a forest animal should know.
It was remarkable that, from the time Karr began to visit the elk calf
in his stall, the latter seemed more contented, and began to grow. After
he was fairly started, he grew so rapidly that in a couple of weeks the
stall could no longer hold him, and he had to be moved into a grove.
When he had been in the grove two months his legs were so long that he
could step over the fence whenever he wished. Then the lord of the manor
gave the game-keeper permission to put up a higher fence and to allow
him more space. Here the elk lived for several years, and grew up into a
strong and handsome animal. Karr kept him company as often as he could;
but now it was no longer through pity, for a great friendship had sprung
up between the two. The elk was always inclined to be melancholy,
listless, and, indifferent, but Karr knew how to make him playful and
happy.
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