d that was Chuchu, the dog. No rational
creature has ever led an existence more poisoned by terror than that
dog's at Silverado. Every whiz of the rattle made him bound. His eyes
rolled; he trembled; he would be often wet with sweat. One of our great
mysteries was his terror of the mountain. A little away above our nook,
the azaleas and almost all the vegetation ceased. Dwarf pines, not big
enough to be Christmas trees, grew thinly among loose stones and gravel
scaurs. Here and there a big boulder sat quiescent on a knoll, having
paused there till the next rain in his long slide down the mountain.
There was here no ambuscade for the snakes, you could see clearly where
you trod; and yet the higher I went, the more abject and appealing
became Chuchu's terror. He was an excellent master of that composite
language in which dogs communicate with men, and he would assure me, on
his honour, that there was some peril on the mountain; appeal to me, by
all that I held holy, to turn back; and at length, finding all was in
vain, and that I still persisted, ignorantly foolhardy, he would
suddenly whip round and make a bee-line down the slope for Silverado,
the gravel showering after him. What was he afraid of? There were
admittedly brown bears and Californian lions on the mountain; and a
grizzly visited Rufe's poultry yard not long before, to the unspeakable
alarm of Caliban, who dashed out to chastise the intruder, and found
himself, by moonlight, face to face with such a tartar. Something at
least there must have been; some hairy, dangerous brute lodged
permanently among the rocks a little to the north-west of Silverado,
spending his summer thereabout, with wife and family.

And there was, or there had been, another animal. Once, under the broad
daylight, on that open stony hillside, where the baby pines were
growing, scarcely tall enough to be a badge for a MacGregor's bonnet, I
came suddenly upon his innocent body, lying mummified by the dry air and
sun: a pigmy kangaroo. I am ingloriously ignorant of these subjects;
had never heard of such a beast; thought myself face to face with some
incomparable sport of nature; and began to cherish hopes of immortality
in science. Rarely have I been conscious of a stranger thrill than when
I raised that singular creature from the stones, dry as a board, his
innocent heart long quiet, and all warm with sunshine. His long hind
legs were stiff, his tiny forepaws clutched upon his breast, as if