rving dogs,
but not of lost ones. That reminds me why I said Ponto had not lived
there. If he had he would know his own grounds, and keep to them."

"But, Cousin Peregrine, I thought you said the Turkish dogs had no
particular homes?"

"Every dog in Constantinople belongs to a particular Quarter of the
town, which he knows, and to which he confines himself with marvellous
sagacity. In the Quarter in which he was born, there he must live, and
there (if he wishes to die peaceably) he must die. If he strays on any
pretext into another Quarter, the dogs of the Quarter he has invaded
will tear him to pieces, and dine upon his bones."

"How does he know where his own part of the town begins and ends?"

"I cannot tell you, Maggie. But I can tell you of my own knowledge that
he does. Jack did, though we tried to deceive him over and over again."

"Who was Jack?"

"The handsomest dog I ever saw in Constantinople. The Turkish dogs are
by no means beautiful as a rule, they are too much like jackals, and as
they are apt to be maimed and covered with scars from fights with each
other, they do not make much of what good looks they have. However, Jack
was rather less wild and wolfish-looking than most of his friends. He
was of a fine tawny yellow, and had an intelligent face, poor fellow. He
belonged to our Quarter--in fact the cemetery was his home till he took
to lying at our door."

"Then he was a Pera dog?"

[Illustration]

"Yes, and I and the brother-officers who were living with me made friends
with him. We gave him food and spoke kindly to him, and he laid aside his
prejudices against foreigners, and laid his tawny limbs on our threshold.
We became really attached to each other. He received the very British
name of Jack, and seemed quite contented with it. He took walks with us.
It was then that again and again we tried to deceive him about the limits
of his Quarter, and get him into another one unawares. He never was
misled. But later on, as he grew tame, less fearful of things in general,
and more unwilling to quit us when we were out together, he sometimes
strayed beyond his bounds, not because he was deceived as to his limits,
but he ventured on the risk for our sakes. Even then, however, he would
not walk in the public thoroughfares, he 'dodged' through gardens, empty
courtyards and quiet by-places where he was not likely to meet the
outraged dogs of the Quarter he was invading. The moment we were safe back
'in