st, what of the intelligence I saw shining out. I can't express
myself about that intelligence. It is beyond mere words. I saw it,
that's all. At times it was like gazing into a human soul, to look into
his eyes; and what I saw there frightened me and started all sorts of
ideas in my own mind of reincarnation and all the rest. I tell you I
sensed something big in that brute's eyes; there was a message there, but
I wasn't big enough myself to catch it. Whatever it was (I know I'm
making a fool of myself)--whatever it was, it baffled me. I can't give
an inkling of what I saw in that brute's eyes; it wasn't light, it wasn't
colour; it was something that moved, away back, when the eyes themselves
weren't moving. And I guess I didn't see it move either; I only sensed
that it moved. It was an expression--that's what it was--and I got an
impression of it. No; it was different from a mere expression; it was
more than that. I don't know what it was, but it gave me a feeling of
kinship just the same. Oh, no, not sentimental kinship. It was, rather,
a kinship of equality. Those eyes never pleaded like a deer's eyes. They
challenged. No, it wasn't defiance. It was just a calm assumption of
equality. And I don't think it was deliberate. My belief is that it was
unconscious on his part. It was there because it was there, and it
couldn't help shining out. No, I don't mean shine. It didn't shine; it
_moved_. I know I'm talking rot, but if you'd looked into that animal's
eyes the way I have, you'd understand. Steve was affected the same way I
was. Why, I tried to kill that Spot once--he was no good for anything;
and I fell down on it. I led him out into the brush, and he came along
slow and unwilling. He knew what was going on. I stopped in a likely
place, put my foot on the rope, and pulled my big Colt's. And that dog
sat down and looked at me. I tell you he didn't plead. He just looked.
And I saw all kinds of incomprehensible things moving, yes, _moving_, in
those eyes of his. I didn't really see them move; I thought I saw them,
for, as I said before, I guess I only sensed them. And I want to tell
you right now that it got beyond me. It was like killing a man, a
conscious, brave man, who looked calmly into your gun as much as to say,
"Who's afraid?"

Then, too, the message seemed so near that, instead of pulling the
trigger quick, I stopped to see if I could catch the message. There it
was, right befo