companions confirmed all that he had said; besides, the facts pleaded
for the poor men.

Another living being, saved on the wreck, would doubtless have spoken
with the same sincerity if it had been gifted with speech.

It was that dog, that the sight of Negoro seemed to affect in such a
disagreeable manner. There was in that some truly inexplicable
antipathy.

Dingo--that was the name of the dog--belonged to that race of mastiffs
which is peculiar to New Holland. It was not in Australia, however,
that the captain of the "Waldeck" had found it. Two years before Dingo,
wandering half dead of hunger, had been met on the western coast of
Africa, near the mouth of the Congo. The captain of the "Waldeck" had
picked up this fine animal, who, being not very sociable, seemed to be
always regretting some old master, from whom he had been violently
separated, and whom it would be impossible to find again in that desert
country. S. V.--those two letters engraved on his collar--were all that
linked this animal to a past, whose mystery one would seek in vain to
solve.

Dingo, a magnificent and robust beast, larger than the dogs of the
Pyrenees, was then a superb specimen of the New Holland variety of
mastiffs. When it stood up, throwing its head back, it equaled the
height of a man. Its agility--its muscular strength, would be
sufficient for one of those animals which without hesitation attack
jaguars and panthers, and do not fear to face a bear. Its long tail of
thick hair, well stocked and stiff like a lion's tail, its general hue
dark fawn-color, was only varied at the nose by some whitish streaks.
This animal, under the influence of anger, might become formidable, and
it will be understood that Negoro was not satisfied with the reception
given him by this vigorous specimen of the canine race.

Meanwhile, Dingo, if it was not sociable, was not bad. It seemed rather
to be sad. An observation which had been made by old Tom on board the
"Waldeck" was that this dog did not seem to like blacks. It did not
seek to harm them, but certainly it shunned them. May be, on that
African coast where it wandered, it had suffered some bad treatment
from the natives. So, though Tom and his companions were honest men,
Dingo was never drawn toward them. During the ten days that the
shipwrecked dog had passed on the "Waldeck," it had kept at a distance,
feeding itself, they knew not how, but having also suffered cruelly
from thirst.

Such, th