_SOMETHING ABOUT MY PETS._
Many a bitter tear they have cost me--the different pets I have had: nottheir possession, but their loss, which followed as inevitably as fate,and as surely as day follows night. As far as my recollection goes back,my four-footed friends have occupied prominent places in my affections,and have eventually become the cause of great sorrow. The first doubt Iever felt of the justice and humanity of the world in general, and mykinsfolk in particular, was because of the cruel death of my favoritedog, Arno, who had been given away after my older brother's death, to afamily who had more use and room for a large hunting-dog than my widowedmother.
At first, he refused utterly to stay with his new master; but when hefound that the doors of his old home were steadfastly closed againsthim, he would lie in wait for me as I went to school; and on my way homein the afternoon, he would always follow me, drawing back his nose andfore-paws only in time to prevent their being pinched in by thesharp-shutting gate, and looking wistfully through the paling with hisbig, honest eyes. Perhaps my elders did not understand "dog-language" asI did; but I knew that Arno fully appreciated the feeling which led meto throw my arms around his neck and weep bitter, childish tears on hisbrown head; and he felt comforted by my sympathy, I am sure, for hewould lick my hands, and wag his long-haired tail with a little joyouswhine, before trotting back to the broad stone steps in front of his newmaster's house. But night always found him under my chamber window,which looked out on a narrow lane, used as a thoroughfare; and here Icould hear his deep-mouthed bark all night long, as he kept fanciedmarauders and real dogs from encroaching on our premises and hisself-chosen battle-ground. For he met his death here, at last.
He had become quite aged; and the other dogs of the neighborhood hadfrequently made common cause against him, for blocking up (to them) thepassage in the lane, but had never yet been able to rout him. One night,however, they attacked him with overpowering numbers, and punished himso severely that it was found to be necessary, or, at least, merciful,the next morning, to send a bullet through his head and end his misery.To me this all seemed terribly cruel, and I cried wildly, and sobbed outmy reproaches against everybody for having left him to lie out in thestreet at night, instead of allowing him a safe shelter in the house. Irefused to be comforted, or adopt any other dog in his place; butbestowed my affection and caresses impartially on all the stray dogs andhorses that happened to cross my path.
Some time after I was married, a little spotted dog, of no particularbreed, sought shelter from the rain on the basement-steps, one day, andrefused to "tramp" when the shower was over. She was a short-legged,smooth-haired little thing, with the brightest eyes I ever saw in adog's head. Tiny soon became my pet, and amply repaid us for the foodand shelter we had given her. She learned everything, and with suchease, that I sometimes suspected I had taken into my family one who hadformerly been a public circus performer. She could stand on her hindlegs and beg for an apple or a piece of sugar; she could find and fetcha hidden handkerchief, glove, or cap; she could jump through a hoop, andcould pick out from among a lot of articles the shawls, comforters, orhats belonging to myself, or any member of the family. On the approachof a buggy to the house, she would rush to the window, and if sherecognized it as the captain's, would scratch and whine till I openedthe door for her, in sheer self-defence. Dashing up to the buggy, shewould wag her tail with such vehemence as threatened to upset her littleround body--begging in this way for a glove, or the long buggy-whip, todrag into the house.
Tiny also knew the name of the different members of the family, whetherthey occupied the same house with us, or only came on visits. If mothercame on a visit, for instance, I could send Tiny from the kitchen with akey, a paper, or anything she could carry, and on my order, "Give it tomother," she would carry it to the parlor, or wherever mother might be,and lay it carefully in her lap, or on the sofa beside her. On theorder, "Kiss the captain," she would immediately dart at that gentleman,and, if he ever so artfully avoided her little tongue for the timebeing, she would watch the first opportunity to climb into his lap, orjump on to a piece of furniture, to execute the command.
Soon after Tiny's advent, a young stag-hound was given to the captain,and him she took under her wing, though in size he could boast of threetimes her own volume. Dick, I am very sorry to own, was not so welltreated as Tiny; and I smite my breast even now, and say verypenitently, "_mea culpa_," when I think of how I hurt him, one day. Iwas lying on the sofa, half asleep from the heat and the exertion ofcutting the leaves of a new magazine. Presently, Dick approached, andbefore I could open my eyes, or ward him off, he had jumped on the sofaand settled full on my head and face. Angry and half-stifled, I flungthe dog with all my might to the floor, where he set up such a pitifulcrying, that I knew he must be seriously hurt. Jumping up, I saw him,quite a distance from the sofa, holding up his foreleg, on which his pawwas dangling in a loose, out-of-place manner. Comprehending what I haddone, I carried him into the next room, and poured the basin full ofwater, in which I held his paw; and then bound rags on the dislocatedlimb, steeping the paw into the water occasionally, to keep down theswelling till the captain should come. Sorry as I felt for havinginflicted such pain on the poor animal, it was a perfect farce to watchhis proceedings, and I had laughed till my sides ached before thecaptain got home. It so happened that mother and one or two other nearfriends came in during the course of the day. As soon as any one enteredthe room, Dick, who had been allowed to take up his quarters on ablanket in the sitting-room, would hobble up, hold out his rag-wrappedpaw, and, elevating his nose, would utter heart-rending cries of pain,thus "passing his hat for a pennyworth of sympathy," as unmistakably asI have known human beings to do many a time before. Then, with cries andgrimaces, he would induce the beholder to follow him pityingly into thenext room, where he would immerse his foot in the water, as I had madehim do, once or twice. During this performance Tiny would keep closebehind him, and with little sympathetic whines, would echo all his criesand complainings; and this show was repeated whenever they could get afresh spectator.
At the same time, we had in our possession a horse, which, for sagacity,kindness, and docility, outshone all the horses I have ever had thefortune to become acquainted with. Not the most partial admiration ofKitty's many virtues could lead me into believing her to be beautiful,though she was by no means an ugly horse. A bright bay, with well-shapedhead, she was too short-bodied, though the long legs seemed to lay claimto an admixture of English blood. Kitty was a saddle-nag as well asbuggy-horse, and the captain always chose her when he had a fatiguingride to take; though, for my part, I should have scorned to be seenmounted on an ugly, stump-tailed thing like her.
This is ingratitude, however; I have never had a more devoted friendthan Kitty. She was assigned to the duty of taking me out to "mother'shouse," where she was always well pleased to go, for I used to take herout of the harness and let her run loose under the orchard trees. I havenever met with a horse so expert at picking apples as she was; she neverinjured the trees, and seemed always to know exactly which were the best"eating apples." When the time came to go home, Kitty, like a sensible,grateful horse, was always on hand; the only trouble was to get her backinto harness again--it generally being just milking-time then, and Inever liked to admit to any of the men that I could not harness a horseas well as saddle it. So, it often happened that, after I got on theroad, Kitty would stop short and refuse to go a step farther. Whippingwould do no good on such occasions; she would only switch her tail,stamp her foot impatiently, and turn her head around, as if to say:"Don't you know that I have good reasons for acting so?" On throwingdown the lines, and examining the harness, I would be sure to find thatsome buckle had been left unfastened, or some strap was dragging underher feet. One day a soldier came to my assistance, and he said it wasthe greatest wonder in the world that the horse had not kicked the buggyto pieces, for I had fastened a buckle on the wrong side, and with everystep she took the buckle had pressed sorely into poor Kitty
's flesh. Icould appreciate Kitty's good behavior all the more for having seen herkick dashboard and shafts to splinters, one day, when the captain droveher, and some part of the harness gave way.
The friendship, however, was reciprocal; for many a bucket of cool,fresh water, many a tea-tray full of oats, and many an apple and lump ofsugar had Kitty received at my hands, when she stopped at the door, orwas taken into the back yard, to await her master's leisure to ride. Thesaddle she liked best, for under it she could move about in the yard.She would follow me like a dog, and tried to make her way into thebasement one day, where I had gone to get some grain for her. I alwayskept a sack of oats in the house, as we had no stable, and the horseswere boarded at a stable down town; but Kitty would have gone withouther dinner many a time had it not been for the "private feeds" I gaveher, as the captain's opinion was that horses should not be "pamperedand spoiled." Kitty knew how much I thought of her, and sometimespresumed on it, too. I have known her--at times, when the captainbrought her into the yard late at night, previously to sending her tothe stable--to set up such a whinnying, stamping, and snorting, that, tothe captain's infinite amusement, I was compelled to leave my bed andtake her a handful of oats or a piece of sugar. And on the street, if Imet the captain mounted on or riding behind Kitty, she would instantlystep on the sidewalk and make a dive for my pocket, to extract the appleshe fancied concealed there. Moreover, she would allow Tiny to climb allover her back; but Dick she always greeted with a snort, andoccasionally with a kick.
One day the captain furnished a valuable addition to the "happy family,"without, in the least, intending to do so. It seems that just as he wasleaving the house, he saw an open market-wagon, and on it two forlornchickens broiling in the July sun. The man offered to sell him thechickens, so he bought them, threw them over the fence, and called tothe servant to unfasten the string fettering the feet of the pooranimals. His order was not heard; and I knew nothing of the existence ofthe chickens till Tiny's barking attracted my attention. There lay thetwo chickens, gasping and panting, and the dogs, like all littlenatures, exhibited great delight at being able to worry and distress thepoor, defenceless creatures. I dragged the poor things into the shade,cut their fetters, and gave them "food and drink." One of the chickenswas a gay-feathered rooster, the other, a plain-looking hen, whoexhibited, however, by far the best sense, in this, that she did notstruggle to get away from me as "fighting Billy" did, but allowed me topass my hand over her soft dress, accompanying each stroke with a lowcrooning "craw-craw," as though wishing to express her satisfaction withher present position. When I thought the chickens were both safe andcomfortable in the yard, I went back to my favorite resting-place--asoft rug, in front of the sitting-room fireplace. The summer wasextraordinarily warm, and I had repeatedly wandered all over the housein search of the "coolest place," but had always returned to this. Notfar from me was a window, from which the shutters were thrown backdirectly after noon, as there was shade then on this side of the house,and nearly opposite was a door leading to the vine-clad porch. Gladenough to pass a part of the hot afternoon in a _siesta_, I wassurprised on waking, and stretching out my feet, to push against a soft,round ball; and the slow "craw-craw" I heard, caused me to start to asitting posture. There, sure enough, was chicky, cuddled up close to myfeet, repeating her monotonous song every time I deigned to take noticeof her. I had never believed before that chickens had brains enough tofeel affection or gratitude towards anybody; but I wish to state as anactual fact that chicky, as long as she was in my possession, never leta day pass that she did not come fluttering up the low steps to theporch and visit me in the sitting-room. During my regular _siesta_ shewas always beside me; and if I attempted to close the door against her,she would fly up to the window and come in that way. Indeed, she wantedto take up her roost there altogether; and it was only with greatdifficulty I could persuade her to remove to the back-yard.
Fighting Billy proved by no means so companionable as chicky: within thefirst week he had fought, single-handed, every rooster in theneighborhood, and the second week he staggered about the yard with his"peepers" closed, and showing general marks of severe punishment, fromthe effects of which he died, in spite of aught we could do for hisrelief.
But our "happy family" was broken up, after awhile: the captain was"called to the wars," and, in spite of all I could say, took Kitty withhim, as the "most reliable horse." Kitty never returned; and I spent onewhole day, during the captain's first visit home, in saying: "I told youso," and crying over Kitty's loss. Next, Tiny was stolen; and Dick wentthe way of most all "good dogs"--with our servant-girl'sbutcher-beau--at whose house I saw him, shortly after Babette'smarriage, together with sundry lace-collars, table-cloths, andnapkin-rings that had mysteriously left the house about the same timewith her. Chicky disappeared the night before Thanksgiving day: perhapsthey couldn't get any turkey to give thanks for, and contentedthemselves with a chicken.
When the captain next came home, he found nothing but a squirrel--butthis squirrel was the greatest pet I had yet found. I came by it in thisway: two small, ragged boys pulled the bell one day, and, seeing alittle wooden cage in their hands, I went to the door immediatelymyself. How the little wretches knew of my silly propensity forcollecting all vagabond, half-starved animals, I don't know; but theyshowed me a scraggy little squirrel in the cage, and said, with theutmost confidence, they wanted to sell it to me.
"How much do you want for it?" I asked.
"Two dollars," said the oldest, at a venture, and then opened his eyesin astonishment, as much at his own audacity as at my silence--whichseemed to imply assent to his extortion.
You see, I had opened the cage, and bunny had slipped out, scrambled upon my arm, and lodged himself close around my neck, where he lay withhis little head tucked under my chin. How could I let the little thinggo? So I gave the boy his two dollars, for which he generously offeredto leave the cage, which offer I declined, intending to make ahouse-dog of bunny. The sagacity, gentleness, and playfulness of littleFritz are beyond all description; though his bump of destructiveness, Imust acknowledge, was also very largely developed. He was still young,and I could keep him on a window-sill quite safely, till I felt sure ofhis attachment to me, and his disinclination to make his escape. Thewindow-sill and the open window remained his favorite post to the end ofhis life; though when he grew older, he would occasionally jump from mybed-room window, in the second story, to the grass and flower-bedsbelow. He had not been in the house more than a week before he followedme about like a dog, and took his place close by me at the table, eatingand drinking anything I had a mind to offer him. He drank coffee out ofa cup, and ate the meat I gave him--holding it in his paws, as littlechildren hold a strip of meat in their hands--nibbling and sucking it,with great gusto.
I cannot conceal that the wood work, the furniture, and all the books,throughout the house, soon displayed ragged edges and torn surfaces; andmother (who had taken up her abode with us), who punished Fritz for hisdepredations sometimes, was held in high disfavor by him, inconsequence. When I was not at home, he would hardly allow her to touchhim, and would hide under the pillows on my bed, at her approach,barking and scolding with great vehemence. To me he never said an"unkind word;" on the contrary, I could hardly secure myself from hiscaresses. Sometimes I would place him on the top of a tall cupboard, orhigh wardrobe, to get him away from under my feet; but the moment Ipassed anywhere within reaching-distance, he would fly down on me, and,settling on my hand, face, or shoulder, would fall to licking my face,and nibbling at my ears and nose, to assure me of his favor. I fear Ihave slapped him more than once for marking my face with his littlesharp claws, when making one of these sudden descents. At night, heslept under my pillow; and early in the morning he would creep out,nibble at my eyelids, and switch me with his bushy tail. Without openingmy eyes, I would reach out for a handful of nuts--opened and placedwithin reach the night before--and with these he would amuse himself fora long while, always cleaning his face and paws after
disposing of hisfirst breakfast. With sundown he went to sleep; but, of warm nights,when I went to bed late, I would carry his little drinking-cup to him,filled with ice-water. Half asleep, sometimes with his eyes closed, hewould take a long drink; but never once, of all those nights, did hereturn to his pillow without first gratefully passing his little tongueover the hand that held him. That he knew it was my hand, I am quitecertain; for if the captain ever attempted to touch him, in the middleof the night, when Fritz was ever so sound asleep, he would immediatelystart up with a snarl, and snap at the captain's fingers; whereas, if Ithrust my hand under the pillow, in the dead of night, he would lick it,and rub his nose against it.
With nothing but a little basket to carry him in, I took him with me fora journey, on a Mississippi steamer. I left him in the basket, whilelooking after my baggage; but when I returned to my state-room, hesuddenly jumped on my head from above, having eaten his way out, throughthe lid of the basket, and climbed to the top-berth. The stewardess onthe steamer tried to steal him, when near port, but Fritz had made suchgood use of his sharp claws and teeth that she was fain to own: "She hadon'y wanted to _tech_ the lilly bunny--hadn't wanted to hurt'm, 'tall."
It makes me sad, even now, to think of the closing scene of Fritz'sshort, but, let me hope, happy life. Once a lady, the mother of aterrible little boy, had come to spend the day with us; and I soondiscovered that either Fritz or the little boy must be caged "up andaway." So, pretending to be afraid that the boy might get hurt, but inreality fearing only for Fritz's welfare, I carried the squirrel up intothe lumber-room, where I brought to him nuts without number, apples,sugar, crackers, and water to bathe in and drink from. There was a panebroken out of the window-sash, but this I covered with a piece ofpaste-board, and then went down to entertain the lady and her detestablelittle boy. Seated at the window, not long after, I saw an urchin comerunning around the next corner, and, when barely within speakingdistance, he shouted at the top of his voice: "Say, Missis, they's gothim, 'round here in the cooper-yard, and he's dead--the squirrel!" headded, in explanation.
Though by no means in a toilet representing a "street-dress"--in fact,with only one slipper on--I started off on a run, and never stopped tillmy youthful mentor pointed to a circle of men and boys, gathered aroundan object lying on the ground. It was Fritz, writhing in the lastagonies of death, while the boys were calling each other's attention tothe contortions of the poor little body. In a moment, I was among them,had lifted Fritz in my arms, and held him to my face.
"Who did that?" I asked, with pain and anger struggling in my heart;"which of you little brutes killed the poor, harmless thing?"
The little ragamuffin who had led me to the spot, pointed to two boysmaking ineffectual attempts to hide a long stick, they were carrying,behind them.
"They was a-hitting 'm like fury, and then I runned to tell you; please,Missis, gimme a dime."
Poor little Fritz! He knew me, even in the death-struggle; for he passedhis tongue over my hand once more, just before the last convulsiveshudder ran through his body, and his little limbs grew stiff and cold.I don't feel, in the least, ashamed to own that I cried--cried manytears--cried bitterly; and I felt dreadfully lonesome when I woke up atnight, and, from the sheer force of habit, put my hand under my pillowwithout finding Fritz there. I made a vow then never to have any morepets; but it was a rash one.
Some years later, when the war was over, the "theatre of our life" wasto be shifted from the crowded, populous city to the lonely wilds of thefrontier country. When we reached Fort Leavenworth, the quarters in thebarracks were all occupied, and a number of our officers were assignedquarters in the Attache Barracks. The captain had decided to purchase ahorse from the government stables, and turn him over to me forsaddle-use, as I did not want to go to our frontier-post without a horseof my own to depend on. It was in June; and the little square yards infront of the Attache Barracks were fresh and sweet with grass andblossoming red clover. The door of our quarters stood open; the captainhad gone out, and I was startled by a knock on the door-post. Lookingup, I saw the head of an orderly appearing at the door; but, poking overhis head, I saw that of a horse evidently taking a strict inventory ofeverything in the room. Of course, I was at the door, and on the horse'sneck, in the course of a very few seconds, for, from the orderly, I soonunderstood that the captain had sent the horse for me to look at.Colonel L----, with his two little girls, came up just then, and, as wewere all going in the same command, the acquisition of a horse for themarch had an interest for all parties. Together, we surrounded andadmired the beautiful white animal; and the two little girls and myselfwere soon braiding clover-blossoms into Toby's tail, and trimming hishead and neck with garlands of butter-cups--operations which did not, inthe least, interfere with his good humor, or his appetite for the juicygrass he was cropping. The captain, it seems, had already tried hisspeed and mettle; he was not appraised at at any unreasonable figure,and so Toby was mine before we took up the line of march for the Plains.
From the wagon-master I heard, later, that Toby had been captured inTexas, during the war. He had been raised and trained by a woman who hadfollowed him around the country for some time, trying to get her petback again; but Uncle Sam, no doubt, had the best right to him, and hewas placed in the stables of the Fitting-out Depot. One thing certainlyspoke for the truth of the story: whenever Toby had been let loose andrefused to be tied up again, he would always allow me to come up to him,when he would turn and throw up his heels at the approach of a man.
Toby was soon a universal favorite and proved himself worthy of thepreference, though he had one or two tricks about him that were by nomeans commendable. First: he was an inveterate thief; and then--at timeswhen he was not ridden, but led along by the orderly--he had a mean wayof lying back and letting the other horse pull him along, that fairlyexasperated me. His thefts, however, were always carried out in such acunning manner that I readily forgave the sin for the sake of the skill.We had not been long on the march when Toby perpetrated his firstrobbery. The captain rode him, and when the command halted for lunch, hewould come up to our ambulance, dismount, and let Toby go perfectlyfree--for we had soon found that he would not stray from the command.Toby learned to know the contents and appliances of lunch-baskets verysoon, particularly as he received his portion from ours regularly everyday. One day, after having dispatched his bread-and-butter and lump ofsugar in the neighborhood of our ambulance, he walked over to ColonelL----'s, and while Mrs. L---- was leaning out on the other side,speaking to the colonel, Toby quietly lifted the lunch-basket from herlap, deposited it on the grass, overturned it, and helped himself to thecontents. Unfortunately for Toby, Mrs. L---- had spread mustard on herham-sandwiches, and the sneezing and coughing of the erring horse firstcalled her attention to his presence, and the absence of herlunch-basket.
Not long after, we made camp very early in the day, and the major'sfolks came to fill a long-standing promise to take tea with us, andspend the evening at our tent. The visit passed off very pleasantly, andan engagement was made to return it at an early day. Toby, who wasprowling about the tent, no doubt overheard the conversation, and feltit incumbent on him to fill the engagement as soon as possible.Consequently, he stationed himself near the major's tent-fly the verynext morning, and paid close attention to the preparations going on fortea; and just as the cook had put the finishing-touch to the table, andhad stepped back to call the family and set the tea and the meats on thetable, Toby gravely walked up, swallowed the butter with one gulp, upsetthe sugar-bowl, gobbled up the contents, and proceeded leisurely toinvestigate the inside of a tin jelly-can. The soldiers, who had watchedhis manoeuvres from a distance, had been too much charmed with theperformance to give warning to the cook; but when he made hisappearance, meat-dish and tea-pot in hand, they gave such a shout as setthe whole camp in an uproar, and Toby was fairly worshipped by thesoldiers from that day out.
But the faithfulness and patience of the horse, in time of need, made meforgive him all thes
e tricks. Months later--when still on the march, inthe most desolate wilderness, in the midst of the pathless mountains,when other horses "gave up the ghost," and were shot at the rate of adozen a day--Toby held out, carrying me on his back, day after day,night after night, till his knees trembled with fatigue and faintness,and he turned his head and took my foot between his teeth, at last, totell me he could carry me no farther! Not once, but a dozen times, hashe repeated this manoeuvre; once, too, when we were coming down a verysteep hill, he planted his forefeet down firmly, turned his head, andsoftly bit the foot I held in the stirrup, to tell me that I mustdismount.
The most singular devotion of one horse to another, I witnessed whileout in New Mexico. The captain found it necessary to draw a saddle-horsefor his own use, and selected one from a number which the volunteers hadleft behind. It had been half-starved latterly, and was vicious, morefrom ill-treatment than by nature. The first evening when it was broughtto our stable, it kicked the orderly so that he could not attend to thehorses next morning, and the cook had to look after them. I went intothe stable to bring Toby a titbit of some kind, and here found that Copp(the new horse) was deliberately eating the feed out of Toby's trough.The cook called my attention to it, and explained that the horse haddone the same thing last night; and on interfering, the orderly had beenviciously kicked by the animal. I reached over to stroke the creature'smane, but the cook called to me to stop, holding up his arm to showwhere the horse had bitten him. I went quickly back into the tent, got alarge piece of bread, and held it out to Copp. In an instant he hadswallowed it, and had fallen back on Toby's feed again, without meetingwith the least opposition from that side. Toby evidently had bettersense, and more charity, than the men had shown; he knew that the horsewas half-starved, and wicked only from hunger.
If I had never believed before that horses were capable of reasoning,and remembering kind actions, Copp's behavior toward Toby would haveconverted me. Often, when out on timber-cutting or road-makingexcursions, I accompanied the captain, and, mounted on Toby, would holdCopp by the bridle or picket-rope, so as to allow the orderly toparticipate in the pleasures of the day. The grass was rich up in themountains, and Toby would give many a tug at the bridle to get his headdown where he could crop it; this, however, had been forbidden by thecaptain, once for all, and Toby was compelled to hold his head up in theproper position. Copp, however, was allowed to crop the grass; but henever ate a mouthful, of which he did not first give Toby half!Sometimes he would go off as far as the bridle would reach, gather up alarge bunch in his mouth, and then step back to Toby and let him pullhis share of it out from between his teeth. But no other horse dareapproach Toby in Copp's sight. I have seen him jump quite across theroad for the purpose of biting a horse that was rubbing his nose againstToby's mane in a friendly manner. One day we met a party of disappointedgold-hunters, who were anxious to dispose of a little, light wagon theyhad. The captain bought it, thinking to break Toby and Copp to harness.Toby took to his new occupation kindly enough, but Copp could only bemade to move in his track when I stood at a distance and called to him.He would work his way up to me with a wild, frightened air; but themoment I was out of his sight, neither beating nor coaxing could inducehim to move a step.
But--dear me--those horses have taken up my thoughts so completely, thatI have almost exhausted this paper without speaking of the other pets Ihave had. The horned toad could never make its way into my good graces;nor the land-turtle, neither, after it had once "shut down" on my dogTom's tail. They were both abolished by simply leaving them on the road.The prairie-dog refused to be tamed, but ran away, the ungratefulwretch, with collar, chain, and all; a living wonder, no doubt, to hisbrethren in the prairie-dog village, through which we were passing atthe time.
But my mink, Max, was a dear little pet. He was given me by a soldier atFort Union, and had been captured on the Pecos River, near Fort Sumner.He was of a solid, dark-brown color, and the texture of his coat made itclear at once why a set of mink-furs is so highly prized by the ladies.His face was anything but intelligent; yet he was as frisky and activeas any young mink need be. It was while we were still on the march, thatMax took his place in the ambulance by me as regularly as day came. Whenwe made camp in the afternoon, he was allowed to run free, and when itgrew dark, I would step to the tent-door, call "Max! Max!" andimmediately he would come dashing up, uttering sounds half-chuckle,half-bark, as if he were saying: "Well, well--ain't I coming as fast asI can?"
On long days' marches he would lie so still in the ambulance, that Ioften put out my hand to feel whether he was beside me; and wherever Ihappened to thrust my fingers, his mouth would be wide open to receivethem, and a sharp bite would instantly apprise me of his whereabouts. Hehad his faults, too--serious faults--and one of them, I fear, led to hisdestruction. Travelling over the plains of New Mexico, in the middle ofsummer, is no joking matter, for man or mink, and a supply of fresh,cool water, after a hot day's march, is not only desirable, butnecessary. But it is not always an easy matter to get water; and I haveknown the men to go two or three miles for a bucketful. Getting back tocamp weary and exhausted, they would naturally put the bucket in theonly available place--on the ground; and the next moment, Max, who wasalways on hand for his share of it, would suddenly plunge in and swim"'round and 'round" in pursuit of his tail--choosing to take his drinkof water in this manner, to the great disgust of the tired men.
Company "B" was still with us at this time, and the tent of the companycommander was pitched not far from ours. Sergeant Brown, of thiscompany, was in possession of a dozen or two of chickens; and these, Isuspect, were the cause of the mink's death. Like all animals out in thewilderness, the chickens could be allowed to run free, without everstraying away from their owner: there was thought to be no dangerlurking near for them; but suddenly one or two were found with theirthroats torn open, and the blood sucked from their lifeless bodies. Maxwas accused, with the greater show of truth, as the cook of thelieutenant had caught him the next day rolling away an egg, which he hadpurloined from the lieutenant's stock of provisions. The cook, followingMax, discovered that he had already three eggs hidden in theneighborhood of our tent. I grew alarmed for the safety of my pet,though I knew that the men of our company would not have harmed a hairof his brown, bear-like head.
One night I stepped to the tent-door to call Max; but no Max answered.The orderly was sent to look through the tents, as Max sometimes stoppedwith the men who showed any disposition to play with him--but he couldnot be found. I spent an uneasy night, calling "Max! Max!" whenever Iheard the least noise outside the tent. Next morning I got up betimes,and as soon as I had swallowed my breakfast, went down toward the RioGrande. The ground grew broken and rocky near the banks of the river,and I half thought he might have returned to his native element. Iclimbed to a point where I could see the river, and called "Max! Max!"but heard nothing in answer, save the rolling of a little stone I hadloosened with my foot. "Max! Max!" I called again; but the dull roar ofthe water, where it surged lazily against the few exceptional rocks onthe bank, was all I could hear. Going back to camp, I found the tentsstruck, the command moving, and the ambulance waiting for me. Wiping thetears from my face, I climbed in--shaking the blankets for the fiftiethtime to see if Max had not mischievously hidden among them.
From a conversation I overheard long afterward, I concluded that Max hadfallen a victim to Sergeant Brown's revengeful spirit--in fact, had beenslaughtered in atonement for those assassinated chickens.
Overland Tales Page 6