Adventures of a Dog, and a Good Dog Too

by Alfred Elwes

  PAINS AND PLEASURES.

  When I again opened my eyes after the deep sleep which had fallen uponme, morning was just breaking, and a grey light was in the sky and on theclouds which dotted it all over.

  As I looked round, you may well think, with hope and anxiety, stillnothing met my view but the great world of water, broken up into amultitude of little hills. I now understood that I was on the sea, whereI had been borne by the rushing river; that sea of which I had oftenread, but which I could form no idea about till this moment.

  The sad thought struck me that I must stop there, tossed about by thewind and beaten by the waves, until I should die of hunger, or that,spent with fatigue, my limbs would refuse to sustain me longer, and Ishould be devoured by some of the monsters of the deep, who are always onthe watch for prey.

  Such reflections did not help to make my position more comfortable, andit was painful enough in itself without them. It was certain, however,that complaint or sorrow could be of no service, and might be just thecontrary, as the indulging in either would, probably, prevent my doingwhat was necessary to try and save myself should an opportunity offer.

  The grey light, in the meantime, had become warmer and warmer in itstone, until the face of every cloud towards the east was tinged withgold. While I was admiring the beautiful sight, for it was so beautifulthat it made me forget for a time my sad position, my eyes were caughtby the shining arch of the rising sun, as it sprang all of a sudden abovethe surface of the sea. Oh! never shall I forget the view! Between me andthe brilliant orb lay a pathway of gold, which rose, and fell, andglittered, and got at last so broad and dazzling, that my eyes could lookat it no longer. I knew it was but the sun's light upon the water, but itlooked so firm, that I could almost fancy I should be able to spring uponit, and run on and on until I reached some friendly country. But alas!there seemed little chance of such a thing happening as my ever reachingland again.

  As the sun got high up, and poured his rays on to the sea, I began tofeel a craving for food, and, though surrounded with water, yet the wantof some to drink. When the thirst came upon me, I at first lapped up afew drops of the sea-water with avidity, but I soon found that it was notfit to drink, and that the little I had taken only made my thirst thegreater. In the midst of my suffering, a poor bird came flutteringheavily along, as if his wings were scarce able to support his weight.Every little object was interesting to me just then, and as I sat upon mypiece of timber I looked up at the trembling creature, and begancomparing his fate with my own. "Ah, Job," I said, half-aloud, "youthought, perhaps, that you were the only unhappy being in the world. Lookat that poor fowl; there he is, far away from land, from his home, fromhis friends, perhaps his little ones (for many birds have largefamilies), with tired wings, and not a piece of ground as broad as hisown tail for him to rest upon. He must go on, fatigued though he may be,for if he fall, nothing can prevent his death; the water will pour amonghis feathers, clog his wings, and not only prevent him ever rising moreinto the air, but pull him down until his life is gone. So, Job, badlyoff as you are just now, there is another, as you see, whose fate isworse; and who shall say that in other places, where your eye cannotreach, there are not others yet so very, very miserable, that they wouldwillingly, oh! how willingly! change places with you, or with that poorfluttering bird?"

  This talk with myself quieted me for a time, and I felt a certain joywhen I saw the bird slowly descend, and having spied my uncomfortableboat, perch heavily on the other end of it. He did not do so until he hadlooked at me with evident alarm; and, worn out as he was, and his heartbeating as though it would burst through his yellow coat, he still kepthis eyes fixed upon me, ready to take wing and resume his journey,wherever he might be going, at the least motion I should make.

  Some time passed over in this way; myself in the middle, and Dicky at theend of the beam. We did not say a word to each other; for, as I spoke noother language but my own, and he seemed about as clever as myself, wemerely talked with our eyes.

  A thought now came into my head. My thirst returned, and I felt veryhungry. What if I should suddenly dart on little Dicky, and make a mealof him? I did not consider at the instant that, by so doing, I should beacting a very base part, for Dicky had placed confidence in me; andkilling him for trusting to my honour, and eating him because he was poorand unfortunate, would be neither a good return nor a kind action.Luckily for Dicky, and even for myself, although he was not able to speakforeign languages, he could read my meaning in my eyes; for when I turnedthem slowly towards him, just to see my distance, he took alarm, and roseinto the air with a swiftness which I envied. I am sorry to say my onlythought at first was the having lost my dinner: but as I watched himthrough the air, flying on and on, until he diminished to a misty speck,and then disappeared, my better feelings came back to me and said, "Oh,Job! I would not have believed this of you!" "But," replied my emptystomach, "I am so hungry; without food, I shall fall in, and Job willdie." "Let Job die," said my better self again, in a cold, firm tone;"let Job rather die, than do what he would live to feel ashamed of."

  As the day wore on, I began to think that death only could relieve me;and the thought was very, very painful. Nothing before and around but thesalt waves--nothing above but the blue sky and hot sun--not even a cloudon which to rest my aching eyes. The want of water which I could drinkwas now becoming terrible. When I thought of it, my head began to turn;my brain seemed to be on fire; and the public basins of Caneville, whereonly the lowest curs used to quench their thirst, danced before me to addto my torture; for I thought, though I despised them once, how I couldgive treasures of gold for one good draught at the worst of them justthen.

  There is not a misfortune happens to us from which we may not derive goodif our hearts are not quite hardened, and our minds not totallyimpenetrable. Great as my sufferings were during this incident of mylife, I learnt from it much that has been useful to me in after years.But even if it had taught me no other truth than that we should despisenothing which is good and wholesome, merely because it is ordinary, Ishould not have passed through those sad hours in vain. We dogs are soapt, when in prosperity, to pamper our appetites, and, commonly speaking,to turn up our noses at simple food, that we require, from time to time,to be reminded on how little canine life can be preserved. All have nothad the advantage of the lesson which I was blessed with; for it _was_ ablessing; one that has so impressed itself on my memory, that sometimeswhen I fancy I cannot eat anything that is put before me, because it istoo much done, or not done enough, or has some other real or supposeddefect, I say to myself, "Job, Job, what would you have given for a tinybit of the worst part of it when you were at sea?" And then I take it atonce, and find it excellent.

  As the sun got lower, clouds, the same in shape that had welcomed him inthe morning, rose up from the sea as if to show their pleasure at hisreturn. He sunk into the midst of them and disappeared; and then theclouds came up and covered all the sky. I suffered less in the coolevening air, and found with pleasure that it was growing into a breeze.My pleasure soon got greater still, for, with the wind, I felt some dropsof rain! The first fell upon my burning nose; but the idea of fresh waterwas such a piece of good fortune, that I dared not give loose to my joyuntil the drops began to fall thickly on and around me, and there was aheavy shower. I could scarcely give my rough coat time to get thoroughlywet before I began sucking at it. It was not nice at first, being mixedwith the salt spray by which I had been so often covered; but as the rainstill came down, the taste was fresher every moment, and soon got mostdelicious. I seemed to recover strength as I licked my dripping breastand shoulders; and though evening changed to dark night, and the rain wasfollowed by a strong wind, which got more and more fierce, and appearedto drive me and my friendly log over the waves as if we had been bits ofstraw, I felt no fear, but clung to the timber, and actually gave way tohope.

  I must have slept again, for daylight was once more in the sky when Iunclosed my eyes. Where was I now? My sight was dim, and thoug
h I couldsee there was no longer darkness, I could make out nothing else. Was Istill on the rolling water? Surely not; for I felt no motion. I passed mypaw quickly across my eyes to brush away the mist which covered them. Iroused myself. The beam of wood was still beneath me, but my legs surelytouched the ground! My sight came back to me, and showed me, true, thesea stretching on, on, on, in the distance, but showed me also that_I_--oh, joy!--_I_ had reached the shore!

  When my mind was able to believe the truth, I sprang on to the solid landwith a cry which rings in my ears even now. What though my weakness wasso great that I tumbled over on to the beach and filled my mouth withsand? I could have licked every blade of grass, every stone, in myecstacy; and when forced to lie down from inability to stand upon mylegs, I drove my paws into the earth, and held up portions to my face, toconvince myself that I was indeed on shore. I did not trouble myself muchwith questions as to how I got there. I did not puzzle my brain toinquire whether the wind which had risen the evening before, and which Ifelt driving me on so freely, had at length chased me to the land. All Iseemed to value was the fact that I was indeed _there_; and all I couldpersuade myself to say or think was the single, blessed word, SAVED!

  I must have lain some time upon the sand before I tried again to move,for when I scrambled on to my legs the sun was high and hot--so hot, thatit had completely dried my coat, and made me wish for shelter. Draggingmyself with some trouble to a mound of earth, green and sparkling withgrass and flowers, I managed to get on top of it; and when I hadrecovered from the effort, for I was very weak, looked about me withcuriosity to observe the place where I had been thrown.

  The ground was level close to where I stood, but at a little distance itrose into gentle grassy hills, with short bushes here and there; and justpeeping over them, were the tops of trees still farther off, withmountains beyond, of curious forms and rich blue colour.

  While considering this prospect, I suddenly observed an animal on one ofthe hills coming towards me, and I lay down at full length on the grassto examine who he might be. As he drew nearer, I was surprised at hisform and look (I afterwards learnt that he was called an ape), andthought I had never beheld so queer a being. He had a stick in his righthand, and a bundle in his left, and kept his eyes fixed on the ground ashe walked along.

  When he was quite close, I rose again, to ask him where I could procurefood and water, of which I felt great want. The motion startled him; andstepping back, he took his stick in both hands as if to protect himself.The next moment he put it down, and coming up to me, to my surpriseaddressed me in my own language, by inquiring how I came there. Myastonishment was so great at first that I could not reply; and when I didspeak, it was to ask him how it happened that he used my language. Tothis he answered, that he had been a great traveller in his day, andamong other places had visited my city, where he had studied and beentreated kindly for a long time; that he loved dogs, and should be onlytoo happy now to return some of the favours he had received. This speechopened my heart; but before he would let me say more, he untied hisbundle, and spread what it contained before me. As there were severalsavoury morsels, you may believe I devoured them with greatappetite--indeed, I hope Master Ximio's opinion of me was not formed fromthe greediness with which I ate up his provisions.

  After I had refreshed myself at a spring of water, we sat down, and Itold him my story. He heard me patiently to the end, when, after a pause,he exclaimed--

  "Come, Job, come with me. A few days' rest will restore your strength,and you can return to your own city. It is not a long journey over land;and with stout limbs like those, you will soon be able to get back andlick old Nip again."

  I need not dwell upon this part of my story, although I could fill manypages with the narration of Master Ximio's dwelling, and above all of hiskindness; he kept me two or three days at his house, and would havedetained me much longer, but, besides that I was anxious to return toNip, I felt certain pains in my limbs, which made me wish to get back toCaneville, as I did not like the idea of troubling my good friend withthe care of a sick dog. He was so kind-hearted, however, and showed mesuch attention, that I was afraid to say anything about my aches, lest heshould insist on keeping me. He seemed to think it was quite natural Ishould desire to get home; and when he saw my impatience to depart, heassisted to get me ready.

  Having supplied me with everything I could want on my journey, andpressed upon me many gifts besides, he led me by a little path throughthe wood, until we came to the sea. "Along this shore," he said, "yourroad lies. Follow the winding of the coast until you reach the mouth of abroad river, the waters of which empty themselves into the sea. Thatriver is the same which runs through your city. Keep along its banks andyou will shortly arrive at Caneville, where I hope you may findeverything you wish--for I am sure you wish nothing that is unreasonable.If pleasure awaits you there, do not, in the midst of it, forget Ximio.If, against my hopes, you should find yourself unhappy, remember there isa home always open to you here, and a friend who will do his best tomake you forget sorrow. Farewell!"

  I was greatly moved at his words and the memory of his kindness. Welicked each other tenderly--murmured something, which meant a good dealmore than it expressed--and then we parted. I turned my head often as Iwent, and each time beheld Ximio waving his hand in the air; at last adip in the ground hid him from my sight, and I continued my journeyalone.

  It was fortunate I had been well furnished with provisions by my goodfriend, for as I proceeded, I found the pains in my limbs so great that Icould scarce drag one leg after the other, and should probably have diedof hunger, as I had no strength left to procure food, and did not meetwith any more Ximios to assist me had I stood in need. With long rests,from which I rose each time with greater difficulty,--with increasinganxiety as I drew near my home, to learn all that had taken place duringmy absence,--and yet with legs which almost refused to carry me; aftermany days that seemed to have grown into months,--they were so full ofcare and suffering,--I toiled up a hill, which had, I thought, the powerof getting steeper as I ascended. At length I reached the top, and to myjoy discovered the well-known city of Caneville, lying in the plainbeneath me. The sight gave me strength again. I at once resumed myjourney, and trotted down the hill at a pace which surprised myself. As Igot warm with my exertions, the stiffness seemed by degrees to leave mylimbs; I ran, I bounded along, over grass and stone through broad patchesof mud which showed too plainly to what height the river had latelyrisen, out of breath, yet with a spirit that would not let me flag, Istill flew on, nor slackened my speed until I had got to the first fewhouses of the town. There I stopped indeed, and fell; for it then seemedas if my bones were all breaking asunder. My eyes grew dim; strangenoises sounded in my ears; and though I fancied I could distinguishvoices which I knew, I could neither see nor speak; I thought it was mydying hour.

  From the mouths of Nip and others I learnt all which then occurred, andall that had passed after my supposed loss on the night of theinundation. How my noble conduct (for so they were kind enough to callit, though I only tried to do my duty, and failed) had been made known tothe great dogs of Caneville, and how they had sought after me to thank mefor it;--how they had offered rewards to those who assisted in myrecovery;--how, when it was supposed that I was dead, they took Nip fromour modest home, and placed him in this present house, fitted witheverything that could make him comfortable for life;--how, when all hopewas gone, my unexpected appearance brought a crowd about me, each oneanxious to assist me in my distress, though some maliciously said, inorder to lay claim to the reward;--and how I was finally brought again tomy senses through the care of our clever canine doctors, and the kindnursing of dear old Nip.

  It was long, however, before I recovered my legs sufficiently to be ableto use them without support. My long exposure at sea, the want of food,and the trouble I had gone through, during my involuntary voyage, had allassisted to weaken me. But my anxiety to enjoy the fresh air again, tookme out into the streets directly it was thought safe
for me to do so, andwith a pair of crutches beneath my arms, I managed to creep about.

  Never shall I forget the first time this pleasure was allowed me. Themorning was so fresh and bright; the sun shone so gaily upon the houses;the river, now reduced to its usual size, ran so cheerily along, that Igot into my old habit, and began to think they were all talking to me andbidding me welcome after my long illness. Kind words were soon said to mein right earnest, for before I had got half-way down the street, with oldNip just behind me,--his hat still adorned with the band which he hadunwillingly put on when he thought me dead and gone, and which he hadforgotten to take off again,--the puppies ran from different quarters tolook up in my face and say, "How do you do, Job? I hope you are better,Job." Many a polite dog took off his hat to bid me good morrow; andpraises more than I deserved, but which I heard with pleasure, camesoftly to my ear, as I hobbled slowly along. Nip told me afterwards, thatthere had been another in the crowd who kept a little back, and who,though she said nothing, seemed to be more glad to see me than all therest. I had not seen her, nor did he mention her name, but that was notnecessary. My heart seemed to tell me that it could only have been Fida.

  A WORTHY SUBJECT]