w was the figure of
the black hound, stretched at ease beside the fire, steadily eyeing
its master. Every once in a while the man would break a chunk from
his damper, or cut a morsel from his meat and toss it to the
kangaroo-hound, who opened and closed its jaws like a steel trap,
and gulped the gift with portentous solemnity, and absolutely
without visible sign of any emotion whatever. The hound showed only
watchfulness. Finn heard its jaws snap, and could almost hear the
gulp which disposed of each morsel. The sight and the sound gave an
edge to the Wolfhound's already keen appetite, and, almost
unconsciously, he drew nearer and yet nearer to the gunyah,
crouching low to the ground as he moved, his hind-quarters gathered
under him ready for springing, like a huge cat.

There was no suggestion of circuses, or cages, or cruelty about the
picture Finn saw; but his recent experiences had been far too
severe to admit of anything like the old simple trustfulness in his
attitude. That could never be again. Even hunger would never make
this Wolfhound trustful again. But for all that, there was
something in the picture of the camp-fire and the pair who sat
beside it which drew Finn strongly; tugging somehow at his
heart-strings; pulling at him strongly, softly; drawing him, as by
silken cords of instinct and immemorial association. So far as his own
life in the world went, this was the first camp-fire Finn had ever
seen. One could not say exactly how or why it should have been so,
but it is a fact that, while crouching Finn gazed upon and crept
closer to that camp-fire, his mind was full of affectionate
thoughts and memories of the Master, and of the old days of their
happy companionship. Up till this evening he had not thought of the
Master for many days.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVIII

TOO LATE

It was doubtless the camp-fire picture which filled the lone
Wolfhound's mind with thoughts of the Master; but, while there is
no suggestion of telepathy about it, it was none the less an odd
coincidence that, at the very hour of Finn's approach to a
camp-fire in the bush, a dozen miles and more to the south-east of
Tinnaburra, the Master should have been approaching the big house
by the harbour outside the capital city, three hundred miles away,
with a mind full of Finn. Yet so it was. And at that moment the
Master's reminiscent thoughts of the Wolfhound were to the full as
affectionate as were Finn's thoughts of hi