r friendship with the happy hound grew to be as famous in our
local annals as, in the realm of books, is that of the horse and hen
related by White (in his _Natural History of Selbourne_), or that of
the swan and trout so poignantly told by Hudson (in his _Adventures
Among Birds_).
Certain dogs Sigurd would bully shamelessly, like amiable old Bounce,
on whom he would hurl himself in Bounce's own yard and sit on top of
him, growling most offensively, until we pulled him off. To the
subsequent scolding Sigurd would listen as long as it interested him
and then press up against us and offer his paw, as if to say, "All
right; enough of that; let's be friends again."
On the other hand, he had such a liking for our Professor Far-Away that
he stretched his regard to cover her successive dogs, Chum and Jack,
though he was born too late to know her beautiful black collie,
Wallace. He would even allow Chum, an adopted stray, a nondescript
animal of preposterous awkwardness, to drink from his own Japanese
bowl, spattering the water, in Chum's uncouth fashion, half across the
hall, while Jack, an Irish terrier,
"With the soul in the shining eyes of him,"
ranked in Sigurd's esteem next after Laddie. Professor Far-Away, whose
perilous joy it was to traverse, with Jack, unexplored tracts of China
and Thibet, attended by a train of coolies, would, when dull destiny
called her back to the class room, effect brief escapes by way of
bicycle runs through the wood roads, attended by a train of dogs. When
her cavalcade swept by our hill, Sigurd would leap up as if at the call
of the Wild Huntsman and rush forth to fall in. Through her long
absences in foreign lands he never ceased to listen for her gypsy
whistle, and once, at least, he was literally her first caller on her
return. He came tearing back to his own family, in high excitement,
with a traveler's tag waving from his collar. The tag was penciled over
with the Wanderer's greeting, adding "how dear it was of Sigurd" to be
barking at her door within ten minutes after she and Jack had crossed
their threshold. When Professor Far-Away writes _The Junketings of
Jack_, there will be a book worth reading.
Although our puppy had several times returned with a scratched face,
after encounters with veteran cats, his first fight was with Major, a
rugged brindle bull, who lorded it over all the dogs in town. We had
been warned of Major and when, one September morning, I went to the
|