{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_14893/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_14893","id":"gutenberg_14893","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/14893","summary":null,"tags":["Animals-Domestic","Category: Adventure","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Novels","Dogs -- Folklore"],"text":"Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the Online\nDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE JAN\nST. BERNARD\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: _\"'The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives and be\nworthy of his ancestors.'\"_]\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE JAN\nST. BERNARD\n\nBY FORRESTINE C. HOOKER\n\nIllustrated by LYNN BOGUE HUNT\n\nDOUBLEDAY & CO., INC.\n\nGARDEN CITY, N.Y.\n\n1946\n\n\n\n\nTO\n\nAN AMERICAN PATRIOT\n\n\nMy father, Brigadier-General Charles L. Cooper, U.S.A., whose life for\nfifty-seven years, from May 27, 1862 to September 30, 1919, when he\nanswered the Last Roll Call, was devoted to the service of his Country\nand his Flag.\n\nF.C.H.\n\n\n\nCL\n\n1921, DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY.\nPRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES AT THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY,\nN.Y.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  CHAPTER                                            PAGE\n\n        I. THE HOSPICE DOGS                             1\n       II. THE LAND OF SNOW                            14\n      III. A NEW WORLD                                 29\n       IV. THE LAND OF NO SNOW                         38\n        V. JAN LEARNS TO HATE                          46\n       VI. THE POUND                                   58\n      VII. HIPPITY-HOP                                 71\n     VIII. THE MUZZLE                                  81\n       IX. JAN'S JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF MAKE-BELIEVE   94\n        X. THE HOME OF THE SUNBONNET BABIES           101\n       XI. PRINCE JAN VISITS SHORTY                   114\n      XII. THE POUNDMASTER'S PROBLEM                  125\n     XIII. THE VOICES OF THE HOSPICE DOGS             140\n      XIV. A FIRESIDE STORY                           157\n       XV. AN UNFORGOTTEN TRAIL                       167\n      XVI. PRINCE JAN DECIDES                         175\n     XVII. JAN'S REWARD                               180\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n                                                Facing Page\n\n    \"'You must be crazy, this is the pound,' snapped\n    the tiny creature\"                                   62\n\n    \"'I wish the children could see Jan now'\"           114\n\n    \"Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices\n    of the Hospice dogs--'The duty of a St. Bernard\n    is to save lives'\"                                  148\n\n\n\n\nPRINCE JAN\n\n_St. Bernard_\n\n\n\n\nChapter I\n\nTHE HOSPICE DOGS\n\n\nPrince Jan was a fuzzy, woolly puppy with clumsy paws and fat, round\nbody covered with tawny hair. His brown eyes looked with loving\ngood-will at everything and everybody.\n\nJan and his brother, Rollo, had great fun playing together, his long fur\nmaking it easy for Rollo to haul him around, while Jan's teeth slipped\nfrom his brother's short hair. Though they tumbled about and growled\nfiercely at each other, their eyes were dancing with laughter.\n\nWhen tired of playing, they would coax their mother to tell them stories\nabout the Hospice dogs. Then they would lie very quietly listening with\npricked-up ears and earnest eyes. Sometimes Bruno, the oldest dog in\nthe kennels, would join in the talk, and all the young dogs would gather\naround to hear the history of their family. Prince Jan and Rollo,\ncuddled beside their mother, would look at each other with pride,\nremembering that they, too, were St. Bernards.\n\n\"I have heard the monks tell visitors that our ancestors have lived in\nthe Hospice for a thousand years,\" said Bruno in one of his talks. \"When\nyou puppies are old enough, you will be trained for work. The duty of a\nSt. Bernard dog is to save lives and be worthy of his ancestors.\"\n\nJan and Rollo looked at him and thumped their tails to show that they\nunderstood.\n\n\"A good St. Bernard dog must have a sensitive nose, sturdy legs, and\nkeen brains,\" Bruno's voice was very sober. \"He knows what he must do\nwhen he finds a human being lost in the storm or frozen in the snow.\nThen he leads the way to the Hospice, or if the traveller does not\nfollow, the dog brings monks to aid the man. Should one of us ever fail\nto do his best,\" he turned his big head slowly and his eyes were serious\nas he looked at the puppies, \"it would mean disgrace for all the rest of\nthe St. Bernard dogs.\"\n\n\"Tell us more stories, Bruno,\" the youngsters begged.\n\n\"Not to-day,\" Bruno shook his wise head. \"Your ancestors have done great\nthings, and you have the right to be proud of them, but the only way to\nprove yourselves worthy is for you to do your duty as well as they did\ntheirs. Unless you remember your lessons and follow them, you will not\nbe true St. Bernards, and your failures will be stains on the honor of\nthe name we bear. Never forget that as long as you live!\"\n\nBruno understood that the soft little whimpers were promises that each\npuppy would do his best when the test came to him. Jan and Rollo watched\nthe old dog, limping from rheumatism in his shoulders, move slowly\nacross the enclosed yard that opened from the kennels. Bruno was no\nlonger able to go out on the trails, but spent his days teaching the\nyoung dogs. Sometimes he would lie asleep, and when his paws jerked and\nhis tail moved, Jan's mother would say, \"Be quiet, children! Bruno is\ndreaming he is out on the trail.\"\n\nThen she would speak softly, \"When you are older you will be taught to\nbreak trails through the snow and carry food and wine, fastened about\nyour necks. You may be tempted, when the wind howls and the snow blinds\nyou, to sneak back or hide in a sheltered place. You must not forget, as\nlong as you live, that there was never a traitor or coward in your\nfather's family or in mine. When you remember this, you will stagger on\nor crawl, if you cannot stand, and keep your nose close to the ground,\nsniffing and sniffing.\"\n\nShe turned her head toward the white peaks that loomed high above the\nstone walls around the enclosure. \"Only a St. Bernard can tell whether\nthe snow which has drifted during the night is strong enough to bear the\nweight of a man, or whether that man would sink beyond rescuing.\"\n\nJan and his brother waited respectfully when she stopped speaking and\nstared at the mountain-tops, until she said, \"Sometimes, you will find\nan ice-bridge. Then you must go very carefully. If it creaks beneath\nyour weight, never let any human being step on it, even if you must\nfight him back. Your father, Rex, died when an ice-bridge broke through;\nbut he saved four men from death. Always remember one thing. To die\ndoing one's duty is the greatest honor that can come to a St. Bernard.\"\n\nThe two puppies whined softly and their mother knew that each of her\nchildren was promising that he would do his best to be worthy of such a\nfather.\n\n\"Ah,\" said Prince Jan to his brother, as their mother crossed the yard\ntoward the kennel, \"some day we, too, will go out and do our work. Won't\nthat be glorious, Rollo?\"\n\nIn their happiness they raced to their mother, who watched them with\nloving, proud eyes. When they reached her side Jan measured himself to\nsee how much bigger he must grow, for though he was large for his age,\nhe was only six months old.\n\n\"Oh, if I could only grow faster, mother!\" he cried.\n\n\"Be patient, Jan,\" she answered, biting his ear gently. \"Your time is\ncoming soon!\"\n\n\"My time is coming! My time is coming!\" Jan leaped and barked in glee.\n\n\"Mine, too!\" called Rollo. \"We'll work together, Jan!\"\n\nThe big door leading from the enclosure where the dogs romped and played\nswung open, and two men who came out, stood looking at the dogs. The\npuppies watched eagerly, for these men had charge of the youngsters. All\nthe dogs knew them, and even if the men had been strangers the Hospice\ndogs would have known they were monks who belonged to the Hospice, for\nthe clothes they wore were different from the clothes of other men who\ncame to the Hospice for a day or two.\n\nA long, black, close-fitting coat reached almost to the feet of each\nmonk, a peaked hood hung between his shoulders and a little round,\nblack, skull-cap was on his head. All of the monks dressed the same way,\nand when it was cold and they went out on the trail, they took off the\nlittle cap and pulled the peaked hood over their heads and around their\nears.\n\nThe dogs hurried to the monks and one of the men leaned down and felt\nJan's legs and back. Prince Jan looked anxiously into the two kindly\nfaces. He had seen them do the same thing with other puppies, and\nafterwards many of his playmates went away and never returned. At first\nhe and Rollo thought they had died on the trail, like their ancestors;\nbut Jan's mother shook her head sadly and said, \"They were not strong\nenough to do the work.\"\n\nNow he remembered this and wondered if he would be sent away. His little\nlegs and back stiffened so that the monks would see how strong he was.\n\n\"I believe this will be one of the best dogs we have had since Barry's\ntime,\" said Brother Antoine, running his hand along Jan's back. \"He has\nwonderful muscles and a very strong back. We will take him out and give\nhim a trial to-morrow.\"\n\nJan licked the hand that rested on his head, then he dashed to his\nmother's side, yelping with excitement and panting out the good news.\n\nShe looked with pride into his happy eyes and said, \"You are going to be\njust like your father! He was a descendant of Barry, the bravest dog of\nus all. You will be a credit to your ancestors!\"\n\n\"I will do the very best I can,\" promised little Prince Jan. Then he lay\ndown and wrinkled his soft forehead as he tried to remember everything\nthat Bruno and his mother had taught him, so that he would be ready for\nhis first lesson.\n\nThe next morning he was wide awake before any of the other dogs. They\nall slept in a big basement under the Hospice building. Jan could see\nthe arched corridors that reached along the big room with its floor of\ngrey stone. The cows of the Hospice were kept in the basement, too, for\nthere was never any green grass outside for them to graze upon. Here and\nthere curled dogs that Prince Jan knew. Jupitiere, Junon, Mars, Vulcan,\nPluton, Leon, and Bruno were not far away from him.\n\nAt last the door leading to the yard was opened and the dogs raced and\ntumbled out, looking like great, tawny lions and cubs rushing from stone\ncages. They ate a breakfast of boiled rice that was poured into troughs\nfor them, then Jan turned impatiently to the door, hoping it would not\nbe very long before Brother Antoine would come for him. When the monk\nappeared on the stone steps Jan trembled nervously, and went forward\nquickly, but stopped at a certain point. He remembered what his mother\nhad told him and Rollo. They must never step beyond that place, even\nthough visitors called to them. Brother Antoine smiled as he saw the pup\nhalt.\n\n\"Time for your first lesson, Prince Jan,\" said the monk in his gentle\nvoice that all the dogs loved. Rollo whined pleadingly, and the monk\nlaughed, \"Yes, you, too, Rollo. Come along, both of you!\"\n\nWith sharp yelps they followed to the door, through the arched\ncorridors, up a short flight of steps, past a big room. Rollo and Jan\nwaited impatiently while Brother Antoine unfastened three doors, one\nafter the other, and then as the last one opened, the two dogs dashed\nout into the snow.\n\nThey gave little barks of joy and thrust their noses into the cold white\nmass, tossing it high and digging into drifts with broad clumsy paws,\nthen stopping to rush at each other and tumble almost out of sight in\ntheir play.\n\nIt was summer-time at the Hospice, though no one would have guessed it,\nfor the snow lay in masses on all sides, the little lake was frozen\nover, and the peaks of the mountains were sheeted with snow and\nblue-white ice that never melted the year around. There was not so much\ndanger for travellers during the months of July and August, and as the\nwork was lighter for both the dogs and the monks, the puppies were then\ntaken out for their first lessons.\n\nA collar was fastened to Prince Jan's neck and from it hung a small\nbell that tinkled clearly with each step the proud little fellow took.\nWhen he looked back he saw his brother also had a collar and bell, and\nthen a casket was tied to each pup's neck. Both dogs watched the monks\nand at a sign from Brother Antoine they trotted carefully along the\nnarrow, slippery way.\n\nThere were no trees, grass, or flowers growing for many miles around the\nHospice, for the earth was buried deep under rocks, and these rocks were\ncovered all the time with a white blanket of snow, which drifted into\nthe hollow places until it was many feet deep. The narrow trail twisted\nbetween cragged mountains, and often the dogs could look down so far\nthat it would have made them dizzy, had they not been Hospice dogs.\n\nThey trudged along happily for a long distance, then Brother Antoine\nspoke to his companion and commanded Jan and Rollo to lie down. They\nobeyed at once, and watched him go on alone until he disappeared around\na bend of the trail. The pups looked at each other anxiously, and fixed\ntheir eyes on the face of the monk who had stayed with them, but he was\nstaring at the trail. Prince Jan whimpered softly, and Rollo echoed the\nsound, but neither of them rose to their feet.\n\n\"Wait!\" said the monk, and the dogs trembled with eagerness as they\nsniffed the cold air.\n\nAt last the monk ordered, \"Go!\" Instantly they leaped to their feet and\nraced along the narrow pathway, their noses close against the snow to\ncatch the scent of Brother Antoine who was somewhere ahead of them.\n\nAt times they ran from the path to follow little gullies of heavy snow.\nThey knew that Brother Antoine had trodden here, though no trace of his\nsteps could be seen on the surface, for the snow slid quickly in the\nsummer months, and masses of it kept covering the slopes as it shifted\nrapidly. In this way Jan and Rollo trailed Brother Antoine until they\nreached a spot where they could find no further scent though they went\naround in circles. The other monk, who had followed more slowly, stood\nwatching them as they paused, uncertain what to do. He made no sign to\nhelp them, but suddenly Prince Jan gave a sharp bark and thrust his nose\ndeeply into the snow, where he began digging as fast as he could. Rollo,\ntoo, understood, and his front paws worked as fast as his brother's\nuntil they had uncovered the face and shoulders of Brother Antoine, who\nhad buried himself under the snow to see if they could find him.\n\nBoth puppies leaped about in glee, barking and yelping until the sides\nof the narrow pass sent back echoes like many unseen dogs answering\nthem. Brother Antoine rose to his feet, smiling. He patted the soft,\nfuzzy heads while the other monk told how the dogs had acted without any\nhelp at all.\n\n\"Jan led the way,\" he said to Brother Antoine. \"He shows wonderful\nintelligence.\"\n\n\"It is his father's blood,\" replied Brother Antoine, then he pointed\ntoward the Hospice. \"Go back!\" he ordered. Prince Jan started obediently\ntoward his home, while Rollo followed closely, but every once in a while\nboth dogs turned back, or waited a bit, until the monks caught up to\nthem.\n\nThey reached the stone steps leading up to the front door of the\nHospice. The door swung open, and the puppies, with Brother Antoine,\ntrudged through the long corridor, down to the basement, under the high\narchways and once again were in the big, enclosed yard. The other dogs\ncrowded about them as they stood proud and important, for that day\nPrince Jan and Rollo had learned the first lesson on the trail. But they\nboth knew that this was only play and their real work would come when\nthe snow piled so deep about the walls of the Hospice that it almost\nreached the high, peaked roof.\n\n\n\n\nChapter II\n\nTHE LAND OF SNOW\n\n\nThe lesson of the trail had to be repeated several times, before the two\npuppies understood just what they were expected to do. Day after day\ntheir mother told them more about the brave deeds of the St. Bernard\ndogs, for the work of the mother-dogs of the Hospice was to teach the\npuppies to be kindly, obedient and loyal to the trust placed in them by\nthe good monks.\n\nJuly and August, the two months that were called the summer-time at the\nHospice, passed swiftly, and Jan and Rollo knew that very soon it would\nbe winter. The first big snow storm blew over the mountains early in\nSeptember, while Jan and his brother slept, warm and snug, beside their\nmother. Next morning no sun could be seen, and when the dogs rushed into\nthe enclosures, dark clouds, shrieking winds, and sheets of driving snow\ntold them that winter had begun and soon there would be hard work for\nthem all.\n\nJan and Rollo quivered with excitement and envy when they saw the older\ndogs pass through the long corridors that day, and each time one of the\nmonks came into the basement where the dogs waited, all of them started\nto their feet and wagged their tails, hoping to be taken out for work.\n\nWhile Jan and Rollo watched and waited, their mother talked to them.\n\n\"Sometimes,\" she said, \"you will find a white mound, and you must never\npass it by without digging to see if any one is under it. You have\nlearned already that when you find a man, you must lick his face and\nhands to waken him, and if you cannot rouse him, so that he will stand\nup, or put his arms about your neck, you must hurry to the Hospice to\nbring the monks. That way, you may save a life, and then, perhaps, you\nwill have a collar or a medal, like Barry, and travellers who sit in the\nbig room will be told that you were worthy of your ancestors.\"\n\n\"Tell us about the Big Room,\" begged Rollo, while Jan gave a gentle\nlittle nudge of his nose to coax his mother. Both of them had heard\nmany times from their mother, from Bruno, and the other older dogs,\nabout the Big Room, yet they never tired hearing of it. Now they bunched\nthemselves into furry balls with their heads against their mother's soft\nbreast, as she began: \"In the Big Room are many beautiful pictures that\nhave been sent from travellers rescued by our kinsfolk. Sometimes a\nhandsome collar is sent to a dog that has saved a life, but the greatest\nhonor of all was the medal that was given to Barry, and the beautiful\nmarble monument that you puppies have seen near the Hospice. Your father\nhad a collar sent to him by the men he saved. They knew he would never\nwear it, but they asked that it be hung above the fireplace in the Big\nRoom. Some day, I hope you, Jan and Rollo, will have collars there. Now,\nrun and play,\" she ended, giving each pup a push with her nose. \"Even\nthough you cannot go out to-day, you must romp, for that will make your\nbacks and legs strong. If you are not strong you will be sent away from\nthe Hospice and never come back. That is a terrible thing for a St.\nBernard. I don't want it to happen to either of you!\"\n\nThough it was so cold and stormy, the two dogs leaped to their feet and\nran through the half-shut door that led to the big enclosure. Jan was\nahead, and Rollo scampered after him. Around and around the yard they\nwent, dodging each other until Rollo managed to catch the tip of his\nbrother's fuzzy tail. This did not make Jan stop running, so Rollo was\ndragged after him through the heaps of snow, rolling over and over but\nclinging tightly until Jan turned and pounced upon him. They tumbled\nabout, sometimes Jan was on top, sometimes Rollo, and they looked like a\nhuge, yellow spider with eight sturdy, furry legs kicking wildly. At\nlast, panting, they sprawled facing each other with pink tongues hanging\nfrom their open mouths and eyes twinkling merrily.\n\nThe sound of Brother Antoine's voice made them look up quickly, and they\nsaw two visitors were with him. The dogs were accustomed to visitors,\nfor in the summer many people came to see the Hospice and the dogs, but\nin the winter the strangers sought refuge from storms.\n\n\"Come on, Rollo,\" called Jan, as the monk and the men with him came down\nthe steps. \"There's Brother Antoine. I'll beat you to him! Show him how\nfast we can run!\"\n\nBefore Jan had finished, the two puppies were tearing madly toward the\nmonk and the other men. One of these strangers wore a long fur overcoat,\nthe other was a much younger man with kindly grey eyes. Jan won the\nrace, but was going so fast that he could not stop until he bumped\nagainst this grey-eyed man, who smiled and leaned down to pat him. Jan\nsquirmed around and touched the hand with his nose, then edged nearer\nBrother Antoine, who called the dogs about him.\n\nIt was a splendid sight to see them cross the enclosure, their great\nheads held proudly, their eyes beaming with intelligence and kindness,\nthe strong muscles moving beneath the tawny skins, as though each one of\nthem, old and young, understood that the honor of his forefathers must\nbe guarded from any act that would injure it.\n\nBruno limped slowly, Jan's mother walked sedately beside him, back of\nthem were Jupitiere, Junon, Mars, Vulcan, Pluton, Leon, and among the\nolder dogs came those the same age as Jan and Rollo, followed by the\nmothers with still smaller puppies. They reached a place in the yard\nwhere all of them stopped, and though the man in the fur coat, who\nstood a distance back of Brother Antoine and the younger man, called to\nthem, the dogs only wagged their tails and did not go any closer.\n\n\"You will have to come further,\" said the monk. \"The dogs know that they\nmust not cross to you, for the first thing a puppy learns is to respect\nthe boundary line.\"\n\nThe fur-coated man moved to where Brother Antoine and the other man\nstood, then the dogs grouped about while the monk talked to the\nvisitors.\n\n\"They seem to understand every word you say,\" the old man spoke. \"Their\neyes are so intelligent.\"\n\n\"They are living sermons on obedience, loyalty, and self-sacrifice,\"\nanswered Brother Antoine's gentle voice. \"Not one of these dogs would\nhesitate to risk his life to save his most bitter enemy. That has been\ntheir heritage for almost a thousand years, now.\"\n\n\"Natural instinct counts for a great deal,\" the grey-eyed man spoke as\nhe looked into the upturned faces of the dogs, \"but the patient training\nyou give them has developed it.\"\n\n\"The older dogs help us teach the youngsters,\" went on the monk, whose\nhand rested on Jan's head. \"We send out four dogs each morning--two\nyounger ones and two of the old ones. One pair goes on the trail down\nthe Italian slope toward Aosta, the other travels the Swiss path leading\nto Martigny. None of them turns back until the last cabin of refuge has\nbeen reached, where they look to see if any person is waiting. It is not\nunusual for the dogs to stay out all night in a hard storm. There have\nbeen many instances of their remaining away for two days and nights,\nwithout food or shelter, though at any time they could have come home.\"\n\n\"Our guide showed us the cabin,\" interrupted the older man. \"The\nfootprints of the dogs proved they had been there a short time before\nus. We followed their tracks until the storm covered them. It was a\nlucky thing the storm did not break earlier.\"\n\n\"The dogs would have found you, Mr. Pixley,\" the monk replied. \"You see,\nsince we have had a telephone from the Hospice, each time travellers\nstart up the trails, we know when they leave Martigny or Aosta and how\nmany are on the way. If they do not reach here in reasonable time, or a\nstorm breaks, we send out the dogs at once. It was much harder in the\nother days, before we had telephones, for we could not tell how many\npoor souls were struggling in the snow. The dogs seemed to understand,\ntoo, and so they kept on searching until they believed they had found\nall.\"\n\n\"I would not have attempted this trip had I not been assured that it was\ntoo early for a bad storm,\" said Mr. Pixley. \"It is foolhardy, not\ncourageous, to face these mountains in a winter storm. I cannot imagine\nany one being so rash as to try it, but I suppose many do?\"\n\n\"During the winter only poor peasants travel the Pass,\" was Brother\nAntoine's answer. \"They cross from Italy to seek work in the vineyards\nof France or Switzerland for the summer. When summer is over they return\nhome this way, because it would mean a long and expensive trip by rail,\nwhich would take all they have earned for a whole year. An entire family\nwill travel together, and often the youngest will be a babe in its\nmother's arms.\"\n\n\"I should think they would wait till later in the summer, and take no\nrisks.\"\n\n\"Only the good God knows when a snow storm will overtake one in the Pass\nof Great St. Bernard,\" Brother Antoine said. \"Even in our summer\nmonths, when a light shower of rain falls in the Valley below, it\nbecomes a heavy snow up here, and many people are taken unawares. After\nwinter really begins, in September, the snow is often from seven to ten\nfeet deep and the drifts pile up against the walls of the Hospice as\nhigh as the third story roof.\"\n\n\"I had planned to visit Berne,\" Mr. Pixley spoke now, \"but after this\nsample of your winter weather I have decided to return home to\nCalifornia. I do not enjoy snow storms. We have none where I live, you\nknow.\"\n\nBrother Antoine nodded. \"Yes, I know; but I hope some day you will visit\nBerne and see Barry. His skin was mounted and is kept in the Museum at\nBerne. You know his record? He saved forty-two people and died in 1815,\njust after the terrible storm that cost the lives of almost all the\nHospice dogs. Only three St. Bernards lived through those days--Barry,\nPluto, and Pallas. A few crawled home to die of exhaustion and cold; the\nrest lie buried under thousands of feet of snow, but they all died like\nheroes!\"\n\n\"A glorious record!\" exclaimed the younger man, who had been patting\nJan while the others talked. \"I remember, when I was a very small boy,\nthat I found a picture in a book. It showed a St. Bernard dog digging a\nman from the snow, and last night I recognized the picture in that\npainting which hangs over the fireplace in the refectory.\"\n\n\"It was a gift from a noted artist,\" replied the monk. \"The dogs used to\ncarry a little saddle with a warm shawl, but the extra weight was hard\non them, so we do not use the saddle any longer, but a flagon, or wooden\nkeg of white brandy that we call 'kirsch,' is fastened to the collar,\ntogether with a bell, so that the tinkling will tell that help is near,\neven though it may be too dark for any one to see the dog.\"\n\n\"I notice that most of the dogs are short-haired,\" the grey-eyed man\nobserved. \"Such fur as this pup's would afford better protection against\nthe cold. He has a magnificent coat of hair!\"\n\n\"That is the only point against him,\" said Brother Antoine. \"During the\nbig storm of 1815 we learned that long-haired dogs break down from the\nsnow clinging and freezing like a coat of mail; or the thick hair\nholding moisture developed pneumonia. We brought Newfoundland dogs to\nfill the kennels when only three St. Bernards were left, but the long,\nheavy hair of the new breed that was part Newfoundland and part St.\nBernard proved a failure. They could not stand the snow storms. Now, we\nvery rarely keep a long-haired pup. He is generally sold or presented to\nsome one who will give him kind treatment.\"\n\nJan looked suddenly at Rollo and the other puppies near him. All except\nhimself had short hair. Now he remembered his mother's worried eyes each\ntime the monks had examined him. He hurried to her side and pushed her\nwith his nose, as he whispered, \"Mother, will they send me away because\nI have long hair? You know, Brother Antoine said that I was one of the\nbest dogs they have had for a long time!\"\n\n\"Don't worry, Jan,\" she soothed him. \"Even though your fur is long, you\nare so strong and so like your father, who had long hair, too, that I am\nsure you will be kept here. Hurry, Jan I Brother Antoine is calling you\nback.\"\n\nJan pushed among the other dogs until he stood again at the monk's side.\nThe two strangers looked at Jan, and Brother Antoine touched the pup's\nhead lovingly.\n\n\"His father was one of our best dogs,\" the monk spoke. \"But that was not\nsurprising. He was a direct descendant of Barry. Four travellers owe\ntheir lives to Jan's father, Rex.\"\n\nThe little fellow tried not to look too proud as he listened again to\nthe story his mother had told him and Rollo many times.\n\n\"Rex was guiding four men to the Hospice after a big storm last Fall. It\nwas the worst since 1815. The men told us the story after they reached\nus. They had lost all hope, their guide had fallen down a crevasse and\nthey were exhausted when Rex found them. They knew that their only\nchance of life was to follow him. He went ahead, moving very slowly and\nlooking back while he barked to encourage them. An ice-bridge had\nformed. It was hidden by deep snow and they did not understand the\ndanger that Rex knew so well. The dog went ahead, the men keeping\nclosely behind him. Half way across he turned and began barking\nfiercely, and as they drew nearer, he started toward them uttering\nsavage snarls.\n\n\"They thought the dog had gone mad, and backed away as he advanced\nthreateningly. Then suddenly his snarl turned to a mournful howl that\nwas lost in frightful cracking as the ice-bridge broke away. Rex was\nnever seen again, but his warning prevented those four men from being\nsmothered in the chasm under hundreds of feet of snow. So, you see, this\nlittle fellow comes of royal blood. That is why we named him 'Prince\nJan.' He looks just like his father, too!\"\n\nJan thrust his warm nose into Brother Antoine's hand.\n\n\"I want to be like my father and Barry,\" he said, hoping they would\nunderstand him, as he understood them. \"I will do my very best to be\nworthy of them both!\"\n\nThe visitors and the monk did not know what Jan said, but the other dogs\nunderstood. Bruno's dim eyes beamed on the pup.\n\n\"You will be a credit to us all, Prince Jan!\"\n\nThe strangers and Brother Antoine left the yard, and the dogs formed in\nlittle groups to talk among themselves, as they always did when new\npeople came to see them.\n\n\"That man came from America,\" Bruno said to Jan's mother.\n\n\"Lots of people from America visit us,\" she replied, trying not to\nyawn, for the storm had kept her awake. All night, while she felt the\nwarm little bodies of the puppies pressed against her side, she had\nstared into the darkness, thinking of the time when Prince Jan and his\nbrother must go out, like their father, Rex, to do the work of the St.\nBernards.\n\n\"Yes,\" Bruno added in a queer voice, \"but this man said he was from\nCalifornia, where they never have any snow!\"\n\n\"What?\" shouted all the dogs together. \"A place where they never have\nany snow? Oh, what a funny place that must be!\"\n\n\"What do they walk on?\" asked Jan's mother curiously.\n\nBefore Bruno could answer, Jan shoved up and said earnestly: \"But,\nmother, how do dogs save people where there is no snow?\"\n\n\"I am sure I don't know,\" she told him. \"Ask Bruno.\"\n\nNeither Bruno nor any of the other dogs could explain this mystery,\nthough Jan went to each in turn for an answer to his question. At last\nhe lay down, his nose wedged between his paws, his yellow forehead\nwrinkled with thought, and he stared across at the tops of the great\nwhite peaks above the enclosure until his soft eyes closed in sleep.\nSoon he was dreaming that he was digging travellers from the snow and\nasking them, \"Won't you please tell me how a dog can save people in a\nland where there is no snow?\"\n\nBut none of them could answer his question.\n\n\n\n\nChapter III\n\nA NEW WORLD\n\n\nThe next morning Mr. Pixley and Brother Antoine returned to the kennel\nyard and Jan wagged his tail politely to show that he recognized the\nvisitor, who leaned down and patted him while talking to the monk.\n\n\"You may be sure he will receive the very best care,\" said the man from\nCalifornia.\n\n\"We are always treated kindly,\" Prince Jan hastened to say, and he\nglanced at Rollo, who replied, \"Of course, we are!\"\n\nThe two pups did not notice Mr. Pixley's next words, \"My little girl\nwill be delighted with him.\"\n\nBrother Antoine called, \"Here, Jan,\" and when the little fellow stood\nlooking up with bright, expectant eyes, the monk fastened a collar about\nthe dog's neck.\n\nJan trembled. He was sure that he was now going to be sent out to do\nhis first work on the trail. It would not be playing this time, but real\nwork like the big dogs. The collar was stiff but he did not mind the\ndiscomfort, for it meant that he was not a puppy any longer. He twisted\nhis head to see which of the older dogs was to go out with him, as he\ncrossed the forbidden line with the monk. The only dog that followed Jan\nwas his brother, Rollo, and when Brother Antoine ordered, \"Go back,\nRollo!\" the pup's ears and tail drooped and he slunk back to his mother\nas though in disgrace.\n\n\"The big dogs must be waiting outside,\" thought Jan happily, and he\nwalked proudly beside the monk until he stood on the top step, then he\nlooked back at his mother, Bruno, Rollo, and the other dogs who were\nwatching him. Usually they all barked joyously when a pup was to go out\non his first real work, and the noisy barks were advice. Now, the only\nsounds were two short barks from Bruno, \"Good-bye, Jan! Remember your\nfather!\"\n\n\"I will remember him!\" he called back, and then he wondered at the long,\ndespairing howl from his mother. It filled his heart with dread.\n\n\"Come, Jan,\" the monk spoke, and the little fellow turned obediently\ntoward the door that would shut him from sight of the other dogs. His\nfeet dragged now, and as he passed through the doorway leading to the\nlong corridor he looked back once more.\n\nWhen he stood outside the big entrance door, he saw the snow covering\nthe mountains and hiding the chasms that he had seen in the summer when\nhe had been out having his lessons with Rollo. He knew these smooth,\nlevel places held real danger. Then he saw dog tracks leading in two\ndirections from the steps, but none of the older dogs were waiting for\nhim. As he looked up with questioning, brown eyes, Brother Antoine\nleaned down and fastened a stout rope to the new collar and handed the\nend of this rope to Mr. Pixley, who was muffled in his big, fur coat. A\nguide was with Mr. Pixley. As they stood there a moment, the door of the\nHospice again opened, and this time the grey-eyed man and another guide\ncame out. The kind, grey eyes looked at Jan, then the man stooped over\nand patted him gently, and no one but the dog heard the pitying voice\nthat said, \"Poor little Prince Jan! Good-bye!\"\n\nBrother Antoine lifted Jan's nose and the pup looked into the monk's\neyes, but there was something he did not understand. It was all so\ndifferent from what the other dogs had told him. He felt the rope tug\nhis collar and knew that he must follow this stranger. He heard again a\nheart-rending howl from his mother, \"Good-bye, Jan, good-bye!\" Bruno's\nvoice blended with hers, and then the voices of all the dogs Jan knew\nand loved mingled in that call. Something hurt him all over, but most of\nthe hurt was in his heart.\n\nHe halted suddenly, pulled stiffly on the rope and the wild cry he sent\nin response echoed mournfully from the high, white crags and died away\nto a whispering moan, as Prince Jan, with low-hanging head and drooping\ntail, travelled down the path that his ancestors had trodden many years\non their errands of mercy. He wondered why he had been sent out with a\nrope tied to his collar, why no older dog went with him, and why he must\nfollow this stranger instead of one of the monks. Jan felt that he was\ndisgraced. Someway he had failed. For a while he followed despondently,\nthen he tried to comfort himself as he trudged at the end of the rope.\n\n\"Bruno and mother will know what is the matter,\" he thought hopefully.\n\"I'll ask them as soon as I get home to-night.\"\n\nHe looked back wistfully several times to see if the kindly, grey-eyed\nstranger might be following them, but he had taken the opposite trail\nfrom the one Mr. Pixley was travelling. Jan did not mind the long tramp\nwhich ended at a place where houses were scattered about. Here a\ncarriage and horses were brought, and Jan would have been much\ninterested in these strange things had he not been so worried. He felt\nhimself lifted into the carriage with Mr. Pixley; then, as it moved, Jan\nwas thrown against the fur coat and looked up in fright.\n\n\"You are going to a new land,\" Mr. Pixley said, smoothing the pup's\nvelvety ear.\n\nThe dog lifted one paw and laid it on the man's knee, the brown eyes\nthat looked up were dull with misery. Jan knew, now, that he was being\ntaken away from the Hospice.\n\n\"Won't you take me back?\" he begged.\n\nBut the man only heard a little whimper, and gave the dog a quick pat.\n\"You and Elizabeth will be great friends. Lie down now and be quiet!\"\n\nJan dropped to the floor of the carriage, his head between his paws,\nand his eyes that stared at the strange new master were full of wistful\npleading.\n\nAfter that ride came days in a big, dark place that bumped and jerked\nwith horrible noises. He did not know that he was on a train. Jan had\nlived all his life where the only disturbing sounds were the soft thud\nof melting snow and the hissing of the avalanches down the mountain\nsides. These strange noises hurt his ears. The pain in his heart kept\ngrowing until he could only lie still and draw his breath in smothered\nlittle whimpers that tore the inside of his throat. He could not eat nor\ndrink.\n\nWhen Mr. Pixley took him from the train, the dog was led through crowds\nof people and bustling, noisy streets that made Jan cringe and cower. At\nlast they reached a place where water stretched so far that it touched\nthe sky, and the water kept moving all the time. This frightened him,\nfor he had never seen any water excepting in the little lake at the\nHospice, and that water did not move, for it was nearly always frozen\nover. Bewildered, Jan hung back, but the man to whom Mr. Pixley had\nhanded the rope dragged the dog up a walk of boards to a\nstrange-looking house on top of the water. Jan stumbled down the dark\nstairs, into a hot, smelly place where he was fastened to a wall. An old\nsack was thrown down, water and meat placed before him, then he was left\nalone. Whistles screamed, bells jangled, all sorts of noises pounded\nJan's shrinking, sensitive ears as he cowered in an agony of fear. The\nboat moved; but he thought, as it puffed and trembled, that a huge,\nstrange animal had swallowed him alive.\n\nThe rolling motion made him very sick. He could neither eat nor sleep,\nbut grew stiff and sore during the days and nights he was kept tied in\nthe hold of the vessel. Homesick and lonesome, poor little Prince Jan\nlay for hours crying softly, but the only attention any one gave him was\nto fill pans with water and food.\n\nOne day two women, wearing white caps on their heads, climbed down the\nstairs with a little girl and boy. The children ran and put their arms\nabout the dog's neck and Jan wriggled and squirmed with happiness, while\nhe licked their hands and faces.\n\n\"Don't touch him,\" cried one of the women, pulling the girl away. \"He\nis filthy, beside, he might bite you.\"\n\nThe child drew back in alarm. Jan's gentle eyes watched them and his\ntail waved slowly, trying to make them know that he loved them and would\nnot hurt them or anybody in the world.\n\n\"He won't hurt us, Nurse,\" the boy declared and put his hand on the\ndog's big head. \"I don't care whether he's dirty or clean, he's a bully\nfine dog, and I wish he belonged to me and sister!\"\n\n\"Oh, if they will only stay with me!\" hoped Jan. \"Maybe they would\nunderstand and some day take me back to the Hospice.\"\n\nThe boy smiled into Jan's eyes, but he did not know what the dog was\ntrying to say.\n\n\"Come, children, we must go,\" one of the women spoke. \"Now, you have\nseen a dog that cost over a thousand dollars and is being taken to live\nin California, where oranges grow and there is never any snow.\"\n\nJan turned quickly. He remembered all the dogs at the Hospice had talked\nabout the place where there was never any snow.\n\n\"How can a dog save lives where there is no snow?\" he asked; but the\nwomen and children, as they turned away, thought he was whining because\nthey were leaving him alone.\n\nWith miserable eyes Jan lay staring into the dark, wondering how he\ncould be like his father and Barry in a country where there was no snow.\n\n\n\n\nChapter IV\n\nTHE LAND OF NO SNOW\n\n\nThe voyage ended, then followed another long trip in a train and Jan\nreached his new home. A little girl with long, yellow curls, big blue\neyes, and pink cheeks, danced down the steps from the wide porch of a\nbig house as they approached.\n\nMr. Pixley caught her in his arms, then put her on the ground and called\nto Jan, who was still in the automobile which had met them at the\nstation. The dog leaped out and ran to the child, looking into her face,\nwhile his tail bobbed and waved.\n\n\"Oh, you beautiful Prince Jan!\" she cried, throwing her arms about his\nneck and squeezing him tightly. \"I love you!\"\n\nJan's tongue caressed her hands, touched her cheek, and his body\nsquirmed and twisted, then he flopped on the ground and rolled on his\nback, waving his paws to show that he loved her. Obeying her call, he\ntrotted be sidle her, past strange trees growing on stretches of fresh,\ngreen grass. Jan looked about him and saw that this new stuff that was\nso soft when he walked upon it, reached down to the blue water, and that\nwater sparkled as far as he could see, and then it seemed to become a\npart of the sky. Wonderful things that gave out delicate perfume formed\nbrilliant patches about the house and even clung high up on the walls.\nLater, he learned these things were flowers, and when the wind blew\nsoftly, they bent and swayed like lovely ladies in their prettiest\ngowns, bowing and dancing. From the thick leaves of the trees floated\nsongs of hidden birds. Jan's head turned quickly from side to side,\ntrying to see everything and understand what he saw, but the most\nwonderful thing to him was the dear little mistress, who talked to him\nas if she knew he understood her words.\n\nAll the people in the big house were very kind to Jan, and he soon grew\naccustomed to his new home. His only duty was to take care of Elizabeth,\nwho was so gentle and loving that he was glad and proud to guard her.\nWherever she went, he went, too.\n\nThe governess heard Elizabeth's lessons out on the lawn under the shade\nof an orange tree, and Jan kept close at hand, watching the little\ngirl's face, and waiting patiently for the lesson to end. Then a pony\nwas led to the front door, and as Elizabeth rode over the firm sand of\nthe beach, Jan raced beside her, barking or rushing out to fight back a\nwave that was sneaking too close. He loved the water, and the best time\nof all, he thought, was when his mistress took her swimming lesson and\nhe could plough through the waves beside her. Often she would lie on her\nback in the hissing, white surf, holding to Jan's collar until they both\nlanded on the warm sand. Sometimes the two of them would dig a big hole,\nand the dog would scrunch into it, while she buried him until only his\nnose and eyes could be seen. Jan was so happy that at times he forgot\nthe Hospice and the work his mother had told him he must do. When he did\nremember it, he would puzzle over and over, \"But, how can I save\npeople's lives here, where there is never any snow, and every one is\nhappy and safe?\"\n\nChristmas came, and there was a glittering tree with lights and\nbeautiful things on it. All the family patted Jan when Elizabeth took\ndown a handsome collar.\n\n\"This is for you, Jan,\" she said.\n\nAs she fastened it about his neck, he thought of the big room at the\nHospice, but he knew, now, no collar of his would ever hang there.\nSuddenly, all the old longing for the Hospice dogs and the work made him\nwalk slowly out of the house and lie down on the front porch, where he\ncould see the blue ocean dancing in the warm sunshine, the soft, green\ngrass, and the beautiful flowers.\n\n\"Oh, if I could only go back home to the snow and do my work there!\" he\nwished, and then, in a little while he fell sound asleep.\n\nThe Fairy of Happy Dreams was very busy that Christmas Day, and when she\nflew over Prince Jan and saw he was so lonesome and homesick, she\ntouched him with her magic wand and fluttered away, smiling.\n\nAnd Prince Jan dreamed he was at the door of the Hospice. The little\nwooden keg hung from his collar. Rollo, with another collar and keg,\nromped beside him, pulling playfully at Jan's hairy neck, while Brother\nAntoine and other monks stood on the upper step, smiling and saying,\n\"He is just like his father, and Rex was descended from Barry! Prince\nJan is of royal blood. He will be a credit to his ancestors!\"\n\nIn the dream, Jan bounded away through the crisp, biting air, his big\npaws sinking in the cold, fluffy snow. Oh, how good it felt!\n\n\"My time has come! My time has come!\" he shouted as he leaped with joy.\n\n\"Jan! Jan! Remember your father!\" his mother and Bruno called after him.\n\n\"I will,\" he answered. Then he and Rollo raced down the slippery path,\ntheir voices, like deep-sounding bells, giving forth the cry of the St.\nBernards. They trod over ice-bridges, ploughed through deep drifts,\nsliding and floundering, following the trail of their forefathers, and\nsniffing as they ran.\n\nSuddenly Jan stopped and thrust his nose into a deep drift. Then he and\nRollo dug furiously, until Jan cried, \"Run, Rollo, run to the Hospice!\"\n\nRollo whirled and disappeared, while Jan's rough tongue licked the snow\nuntil he saw the round, soft face of a child, and beneath that child lay\nits mother. Both were very quiet. Jan licked their faces, he pushed\nthem with his nose to rouse them, then he crowded his warm body closely\nagainst them, and his eyes watched the trail. Soon he gave a wild yelp,\nfor he saw Rollo coming and back of him hurried Brother Antoine and one\nof the men of the Hospice who helped on the trail.\n\nThe men lifted the woman and child, and wrapped them in warm shawls,\nthen they unfastened the keg from Jan's collar, and as the woman opened\nher eyes they made her drink the liquid. Some of it was given to the\nchild. Brother Antoine carried the little one in his arms while the\nother man held the woman, and Jan and Rollo trotted ahead of them to\nbeat down the snow and make the path easier to travel. Bruno and the\nother dogs in the kennel yard sent back answering calls to Jan and\nRollo. The door opened and kindly hands received the woman and child,\nand carried them to shelter and warmth.\n\nBrother Antoine stooped and patted Jan's head, and brushed off snow that\nstill clung to the long hair on the dog's back, saying very softly, \"The\nBlessed Mother guided you, Jan; for you have saved a mother and child\non Christmas Day!\"\n\nThen he heard laughter and voices saying, \"Jan is dreaming again! Wake\nup, Jan!\"\n\nHe woke to see waving palms, green grass, flowers, and the warm sunshine\nof a land where there is never any snow. His heart, which had been\nthrobbing madly with joy, grew sad. He looked at his little mistress and\nher friends smiling at him so kindly, and wished he could tell them his\ndream and beg them to send him back where he could be useful and do the\nwork of his father and Barry.\n\nBut the talk of dogs is different from ours; even people who speak the\nsame language often misunderstand one another. Once in a great while\nsome person is wise enough and good enough to understand what dogs try\nto say, but Prince Jan's little mistress, though she loved him dearly,\nnever knew what was in his heart.\n\nThe months slipped away until Jan was fully grown. His tawny-red and\nwhite hair was as soft as silk, and when he put his paws on a man's\nshoulders, their eyes were the same height. In spite of his strength and\nsize, he was gentle and kind. Every one loved him and he loved\neverybody.\n\nThe only sadness in his life was in knowing that he could not help\npeople in a place where there was no snow. One night, as he came on the\nporch, Jan thought it was snowing, and he raced to the spot where he had\nseen the flakes falling in the bright moonlight; but when he pushed his\nnose into the white glistening things beneath a tree, he found they were\nonly petals from the orange blossoms, the perfumed snowflakes of\nCalifornia, and Jan lay down among them, the old longing for his home\nand his work tugging at his heart.\n\n\n\n\nChapter V\n\nJAN LEARNS TO HATE\n\n\nFour happy years passed by. Elizabeth had grown into a beautiful young\nlady, but she loved Jan as much as ever, and he was always at her side.\n\nThen one morning when Jan, as usual, went to the front porch to tell Mr.\nPixley that breakfast was ready, there was no one sitting in the rocker\nwhere Jan expected to find his master reading the paper, and no kindly\nvoice called, \"All right, Jan! Tell them I'm coming!\"\n\nSlowly the dog went back to the big dining-room. But Elizabeth and her\nmother were not in their accustomed places, either. Puzzled, he trotted\nthrough the hallway and up the wide stairs, following the sound of\nmurmuring voices in Mr. Pixley's room. Through the half-open door Jan\nsaw two strange men talking to Elizabeth and her mother. On the bed,\nvery white and quiet, Mr. Pixley was lying.\n\n\"The only chance is an operation by Dr. Corey of London,\" one of the\nmen spoke to Mrs. Pixley, and the other man nodded.\n\n\"We can cable to London and have him sail immediately for New York,\nwhile we are on our way from here,\" added the second man to Elizabeth,\nwho was watching them very anxiously.\n\n\"Do you think my father can stand the trip?\" she asked.\n\n\"It would be less dangerous than losing time for Dr. Corey to come to\nCalifornia after he reaches New York,\" both doctors declared.\n\nJan saw that Elizabeth's eyes were full of tears and he slipped softly\nto her and pushed his nose into her hand. She glanced down and tried to\nsmile at him, but her lips trembled and she hurried to her room. Mrs.\nPixley followed her, and when Jan found them, Elizabeth was crying in\nher mother's arms, while Mrs. Pixley, whose own face was wet with tears,\ntried to comfort her. After awhile they began talking in low tones, and\nJan edged between their closely-drawn chairs, wishing very hard that he\ncould understand what it all meant. He would have been as much worried\nas they were, had he known that Mr. Pixley's life could only be saved by\nthe famous surgeon from England, and that even if the operation were\nsuccessful it would mean that Elizabeth and her parents would have to be\naway from home many months. But Jan was only a dog, so their words meant\nnothing to him.\n\nAfter that hour everything was in confusion. Servants hurried about,\ntrunks were dragged into Elizabeth's room, and clothes were carried from\nclosets and packed into the empty trunks. Every once in a while Jan\nwould look down into a trunk, then watch Elizabeth with his puzzled\neyes.\n\nShe saw his worried look and paused in her packing to pet him, then\nsuddenly she turned to her mother and said, \"Oh, mother! What about\nJan?\"\n\n\"It will be impossible to take him with us, for we will have to stay in\na hotel, and that would be hard on Jan, and an additional care for us,\ndear. Then, we may have to go to London as soon as your father is able\nto travel after the operation. Dr. Corey could not stay in New York so\nlong.\"\n\n\"I suppose the servants will be kind to Jan,\" went on Jan's mistress,\n\"but I would feel better if old John and Mary were still here. They\nloved Jan and he loved them.\"\n\n\"These new servants seem to be all right,\" replied Mrs. Pixley. \"They\nknow how fond we are of Jan, and I will ask them to be kind to him.\"\n\n\"He's such a dear old fellow, and never makes any trouble, and I don't\nbelieve any one could help loving him!\" exclaimed Elizabeth, catching\nthe dog's long, silky ears and pulling them gently while his eyes,\nshining with devotion, looked into her own.\n\nBefore noon the next day the trunks had been strapped and taken away.\nThen Jan saw Mr. Pixley lifted into the automobile where Mrs. Pixley was\narranging pillows. Elizabeth came slowly down the steps of the porch\nwith Jan at her side. Then she stooped and took his head between her\nhands and gazed intently at him.\n\n\"Good-bye, Jan! I'll come back again!\"\n\nThat was what she always said when she was going away for a short time;\nso Jan wagged his tail and touched her pink cheek with the tip of his\ntongue. He watched the automobile turn among the orange trees that\nbordered the winding driveway and waited for a last glimpse of it\nthrough the trees. He knew that Elizabeth would turn and call to him\nwhen she reached that point.\n\nHis ears cocked up and his eyes were bright as the machine came into\nsight. Then he saw his dear mistress look back at him, her hand waved\nand her voice called, \"Good-bye, Prince Jan! Be a good dog!\"\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" he answered, as he always answered her \"good-bye\" call.\nThen the automobile vanished among the trees.\n\nIt was summer time and the middle of the day was very warm, so Jan\ndecided he would take a swim in the ocean. It was great sport battling\nthe huge waves while white sea-gulls darted screaming over his head,\nfearing he would steal the fish they hoped to catch and eat. Cooled by\nthe water, he returned to the front porch and stretched out where he\ncould see the road, for he always ran and welcomed his folks when they\ncame home from their drives. He was very happy and comfortable until the\nnew housekeeper came out with a broom.\n\n\"Get off, you dirty beast!\" she cried, shaking the broom over his head.\n\"This porch was washed to-day.\"\n\nJan jumped up in surprise. No one had ever spoken to him that way. The\nold housekeeper, who had gone away, had been his friend. Whenever the\nfamily was absent at night Jan had kept her company in her room, and she\nalways had cookies there for him. John, her husband, had been the old\nstableman.\n\nThe broom waved nearer. He looked into the woman's angry face, then\nwalked down the front steps.\n\n\"I'll go to the stable till Elizabeth comes home,\" he thought as he went\ntoward the back of the house.\n\nBut, John, the stableman, who had cared for the handsome horses of the\nPixleys until automobiles filled the carriage house, had gone away to\nanother place where people still used horses. John had been Jan's loyal\nfriend. The new man, William Leavitt, had not made friends with Jan, but\nthere were many nice dark places, out of William's sight, where Jan\noften took a nap during the heat of the day, and William never knew it.\n\nJan was making for a favorite spot under the old family carriage, when\nWilliam saw him.\n\n\"Get out!\" he shouted furiously.\n\nThe dog stopped. William came closer and lifting his hand, threw a\nmonkey-wrench at Jan. It missed him, and the dog hurried away to the\ngarden, where many trees made dense shadows. There was a spot under a\nlow-hanging pepper tree where Jan dug into the cool, moist earth until\nhe had made a nice, big hole. Then he lay down and uttered a sigh of\ncontent. His eyes closed and soon he was sound asleep.\n\nA vicious kick wakened him, and he leaped to his feet to see the\ngardener standing over him swearing. Jan ran away, but stood a short\ndistance off, watching the man fill up the hole under the tree. As the\nman finished the work, he saw the dog and hurled a stone which struck\nabove Jan's eye, making a jagged cut that started to bleed.\n\nHalf-mad with pain, Jan ran until he found a place in the orange grove,\nfar back from the house, and trembling, he huddled down. His heart\nthumped and again he suffered from the fear of things he did not\nunderstand just as he had felt when his mother howled on the day he had\nbeen led from the Hospice.\n\n\"If only Elizabeth will come back soon,\" he thought, \"everything will\nbe right again, and the servants won't be cross to me any more.\"\n\nThe excitement of abuse for the first time in his life and the pain from\nthe wounded eye, which was swollen shut, made him feverish, but he kept\nhidden all day, suffering from thirst rather than risk further\nill-treatment, and all the time he was listening for the sound of wheels\nand the voice of Elizabeth calling him.\n\nThe sun went down, but the family had not come home. Then it grew very\nquiet and dark, and Jan crawled to the back of the house for food and\nwater, which were always put there at sunset for him. He crept like a\nthief, ready to rush back to the orange grove if he heard a step\napproaching.\n\nBoth pans were in the accustomed place, but he found them empty. His\ntongue was so dry and hot that he licked each pan in turn. Then he went\naround to the front of the house and put his nose to a water faucet,\nlicking it for a drop of moisture. The pipe was dry. Jan looked out at\nthe ocean, over which the moon shone silvery bright, the water sparkled,\nbut he knew he could not drink salt water, and even to look at it now\nmade him more thirsty. At last, unable to resist any longer, he went to\nthe beach and lapped the stinging water that burnt his throat. Then he\nplunged into the surf and swam out a short distance. But the waves\nwashed over his head and the salt in the wound made him cry with pain,\nuntil he reached the shore and dashed back to the orange grove, where he\nlay moaning pitifully.\n\nHis thirst grew worse. Jan rose to his feet, hoping the stable door\nmight be open, as sometimes he had seen it on warm nights, and there was\na water trough that always had water in it, for Elizabeth still rode\nhorseback, though the family used the automobiles. The door was closed,\nso he went back to his hiding-place.\n\nIn the morning, almost crazed by thirst, Jan again sought the stable.\nDrawing near, he heard water running, and, thinking of nothing else, he\nrushed to the trough where cool, sparkling water flowed from the faucet.\nWilliam was there, too, but the dog rose on his hind legs and thrust his\ndry tongue into the water, lapping it in big gulps.\n\n\"Get out of that!\" he heard William order.\n\nJan kept on drinking greedily. Then he felt a sharp slash from a\ncarriage whip. He did not lift his head. Nothing could drive him from\nthe water. The whip struck hard and fast across his back, each cut\nmaking him shrink, but he kept on drinking until his terrible thirst had\nbeen quenched. Then he dropped his paws from the edge of the trough to\nthe floor and turned his great head, one eye closed, the other bloodshot\nand glaring hate and defiance, while his teeth gleamed and an ugly snarl\nrumbled in his throat.\n\nA young fellow who was a stranger to Jan came from the back of the\nbuilding. The dog looked at him, then at William, ready to fight them\nboth. As Jan started toward them, William moved back. Jan growled.\n\n\"Do you think he's gone mad, Shorty?\" asked William uneasily.\n\nJan did not know what the words meant, but he saw that the man was\nafraid of him for some reason. He gave a fierce snarl and faced them.\n\n\"Wouldn't drink water if he was mad,\" replied Shorty. \"Why didn't you\nlet him alone, anyhow? He wasn't bothering you till you hit him.\"\n\n\"I hate dogs, and you know it,\" retorted William angrily. \"It made me\nsick to see the Pixleys such fools over this one. We all had to stand\naround and wait on that dog as if he was the King of England. I guess he\nfinds out the difference now that the family has gone.\"\n\nShorty moved slowly toward Jan, holding out a hand and saying, \"You're\nall right, old fellow!\"\n\nBut the dog backed off and his nose twitched warningly. He would fight\nif these men bothered him. With a final growl of defiance Jan left the\nstable, but he carried with him a new sense of power. He could make\npeople let him alone if he snarled and showed his teeth.\n\nThat night he prowled around until he found the garbage cans. So he\nlearned to hide in the daytime and forage like a wild animal at night.\nIf he passed one of the servants, he growled and braced himself stiffly,\nwhile his hair rose in a ridge along his back. One glance at his\nbloodshot eyes and big, white teeth was enough to make every one, man,\nwoman or child, hurry out of his way.\n\nIn the excitement of packing for the trip, Elizabeth had neglected to\nhave Jan's hair clipped. Maybe she told the servants to have it cut.\nNow, the long fur heated and worried the dog constantly and the fleas\nnearly drove him mad. Day and night, he bit and scratched, tearing out\ntufts of matted hair until raw, bleeding spots made his body a mass of\nsores. Each day he grew more savage. He hated every one now; the monks\nwho had sold him, Mr. Pixley who had taken him from the Hospice, Miss\nElizabeth who had deserted him, and the servants who abused him.\n\n\"I wish I could tell the dogs at the Hospice not to help people who are\nlost,\" he thought as he lay in the dark. \"If William were lost in the\nsnow and I found him, I would fasten my teeth in his throat.\"\n\nSo, the gentle Prince Jan, whose heart had been full of love and trust,\nand who wanted to help every one, became a savage beast, ready to fight\nall people and hating even those whom he once had loved and for whom he\nwould have died gladly.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VI\n\nTHE POUND\n\n\nSix months went by and the Pixleys had not returned, but Jan did not\nknow that Mr. Pixley was still very ill. The dog hid or skulked if he\nmet any person, and his deep growls and twitching nose were so\nthreatening that no one dared to go nearer. His silky hair was rough and\nragged, raw bleeding spots scarred his body, his eyes were bloodshot and\nhis tail was almost bare of the long hair that had once made it a\nbeautiful plume.\n\nHis only refuge was the orange grove, where he spent the days sleeping\nor licking the bones he stole from garbage pails, for no one ever\nthought to put food or water where he could find it. The servants feared\nand hated him, and he hated them but did not fear them. He knew his own\nstrength. If any one threatened to abuse him, Jan was ready to leap and\nuse his sharp teeth, but so long as people let him alone, he would not\nfight.\n\nLate one afternoon, he saw William and a kindly-looking old man with a\nlong, white beard, talking together. They were watching Jan, as the dog\nlay quietly in the hole that was now his only home; his eyes rolled but\nhe did not lift his head as they came closer.\n\n\"He has no use for me,\" said William, giving a rope to the other man.\n\"Maybe you can handle him alone, but I don't believe it. He's as big and\nstrong as a lion.\"\n\nWilliam pulled a paper from his pocket and held it to the older man,\nsaying, \"Here's a letter from Miss Elizabeth Pixley; you can see what\nshe says. I wrote her about Jan and asked what we should do with him.\"\n\nThe name of Elizabeth caused Jan's ears to prick up and the fierce light\nin his eyes faded. The strange man came close to the dog and spoke\ngently. Jan wagged his tail slightly, but kept his eyes on the old man's\nface.\n\n\"You had better look out,\" warned William. \"He can't be trusted a\nminute.\"\n\nJan glared at the stableman. \"I wanted to love and help people, not hurt\nthem, until you made me fight,\" he growled.\n\n\"Look out!\" cried William. \"He's showing his teeth. He is the worst dog\nI have ever seen in my life.\"\n\nThe older man studied the dog silently, then smiled and held out his\nhand. Jan shrank back suspiciously but allowed the hand to touch his\nback.\n\n\"I think I can manage him,\" said the stranger, then he added, \"Come,\nJan. Come with me!\"\n\nThe dog rose to his feet and followed unresistingly down the pathway to\nthe front of the Pixley home, and past the lawn where he had spent so\nmany happy hours, along the firm sand on which he had so often raced\nbeside his mistress's pony in the days gone by. And as he trudged\nslowly, he kept wondering if she had sent for him. He remembered how Mr.\nPixley had led him away from the Hospice at the end of a rope, but at\nthe end of the journey Jan had found Elizabeth and happiness. He lifted\nhis big head and his anxious eyes saw a pitying face as a gentle hand\nlightly touched his back. It was quite a long walk and the dog was weak\nfrom improper food and care. When they entered a little cottage, the old\nman brought food and water, then sat and watched the dog devour them\nravenously. After the dish had been emptied of all food, Jan stood\nwagging his tail to show his gratitude. The old man laughed.\n\n\"Why, you're not any more vicious than I am, Prince Jan! But, you're in\npretty bad shape.\"\n\nHe did not tie the rope, but let it drop on the floor while he brought a\nsmall tin tub full of warm suds, and gently sponged the dog's body. The\nnext thing was cool salve on the painful sores.\n\nThen Jan was ready to follow this kind friend, and though his legs\ntrembled with weakness, he hastened with the old man into a large room\nwith dirt floor. It was late in the afternoon and the light from two\nsmall windows left the place in partial darkness, so that Jan, coming\ninto it, could not see anything at first. But, he heard dogs whining and\nbarking all about him. When he grew accustomed to the dim light, the old\nman had tied him and gone away.\n\nA number of dogs were fastened by short ropes, and all were staring at\nthe big dog. Shrill yapping made Jan turn quickly to see a tiny, dirty\ndog with long hair that had once been white but now was matted and\ngrimed, straining on its rope and squinting impudently at him.\n\n\"Gracious! You're the biggest dog I ever saw!\" exclaimed the midget,\nwhich was not much larger than a small kitten. \"What is your name, and\nwhere on earth did you come from?\"\n\nPrince Jan answered politely, then asked, \"Is this the kennel where they\ntrain dogs to help people in the Land of No Snow?\"\n\n\"You must be crazy! This is the pound!\" snapped the tiny creature,\nthinking Jan was making fun of it.\n\n\"The pound?\" echoed Prince Jan. \"What is that?\"\n\n\"Silly! You haven't much sense, even if you are so big! If the\ndog-catchers get us they bring us to the pound, and if our folks don't\ncome for us pretty soon, we are all shot!\"\n\nSeveral dogs howled in despair, but the snippy little animal only\nstretched out for a nap.\n\n\"Don't you feel badly, too?\" questioned Jan.\n\n\"Good gracious, no! I travel around with my folks and we live in hotels,\nand they make me wear a collar. I manage to get away without my collar,\nsometimes, and some one always takes me to the pound, and my family come\nthere for me as soon as I am lost. They'll be here for me before long.\nI've been in lots of pounds.\"\n\n[Illustration: \"'_You must be crazy! this is the pound!' snapped the\ntiny creature._\"]\n\nWithout further remarks, the spoiled pet curled itself into a dirty\nball and was fast asleep when the door opened and two young ladies\nrushed in and grabbed up the blinking rascal. He yawned in the face of\nthe girl who held him; then, petted and scolded, he was carried away.\n\nWith hopeless eyes, Jan watched them pass through the doorway. He\nunderstood now, that Elizabeth had not sent for him, that nobody cared\nwhat happened to him. He lay down and shut his eyes and tried to shut\nhis ears to the misery of the other dogs, but he could not sleep. Jan\nkept thinking how he had wanted to do what was right and how hard he had\ntried to remember what his mother had taught him. In this strange land,\nwith no snow and no work to do, he had failed; and now, he would die in\ndisgrace after a useless life that meant dishonour to his father and\nBarry, and the other dogs who had lived and died doing their duty as St.\nBernards.\n\nThrough the long hours of the night, though darkness shut away the sight\nof the other dogs, Jan could hear restless movements and choked\nwhimpers, so that he could not forget where he was, and at last, when\nmorning broke, he lifted his head slowly and looked at the dogs around\nhim. Then he remembered that morning at the Hospice when he had wakened\nearly, waiting impatiently for his first lesson on the trail. But these\ndogs around him, now, were pitiful things, cowering and shivering; the\neyes that met his own were dull and hopeless, and the ears all drooped\ndejectedly.\n\nThe dogs started nervously as a key scraped in the lock of the door.\nThen the old man came into the room and went from one dog to the other,\npatting each in turn as he placed clean, freshly cooked meat and a pan\nof water within easy reach. The poor animals shrank back, but as they\nsaw that he did not threaten any of them, the ragged tails flopped and\nthe eyes that followed him were less timid. When he reached Jan, the man\nstood looking at him and shaking his head slowly. The dog, still\nsuspicious of every human being, bunched his muscles and waited, but the\nsmile and gentle voice, \"You poor old fellow! I'm afraid I can't do\nanything for you,\" made Jan look up with his great, wistful eyes\npleading for sympathy and kindness.\n\n\"I'll do the best I can, though,\" the old man said, at last, as he\nuntied the rope and turned toward the door.\n\nThe dog rose stiffly, for every bone in his gaunt body ached, his legs\ntrembled from weakness due to lack of proper food, but he moved\ntrustingly beside this kindly stranger. As they reached once more the\ndoor of the little house where Jan had been washed and fed the night\nbefore, the wrinkled hand holding the rope reached out and Prince Jan's\nhot tongue touched it in a light caress.\n\nInside the tiny house the man fixed an old comforter then pointing at\nit, he said, \"Go lie down, Jan.\"\n\nWith a sigh that was half-weariness, half gratitude, the dog stretched\nhis tired body on the soft quilt, but his eyes watched every movement of\nhis new friend. Then Jan slept in peace, for the first time since\nElizabeth had deserted him.\n\nThe odor of warm, fresh meat from a dish near his nose wakened him. As\nhe moved toward it a tiny yellow bird flew across the room and lit on\nthe floor, watching him pertly and edging cautiously to the plate. It\npaused with head perked impudently on one side and its bright little\neyes fixed on the big dog. Jan kept very still, and the old man,\nsitting across the room, nodded approvingly when the dog allowed the\nbird to peck at the plate of food. After tasting Jan's dinner, the bird,\nperched on the edge of the dish, lifted its head and sang as though its\nthroat would burst with music. It finished the song, gave a funny little\nshake of its wings, then flew across the room and lit on the shoulder of\nthe Poundmaster, where it stayed while he kept moving around the room.\n\n\"Go home, Cheepsie,\" said the old man, and the bird at once darted into\na cage hanging at the front window, but the Poundmaster did not shut the\ncage door.\n\nThen he led Jan to the back porch where the tub of clean soapsuds was\nready, and again the dog was washed thoroughly and the salve applied to\nhis sores. Though Jan's heart was almost bursting with gratitude, he\ncould only show it by poking his nose against the kindly hand, or\nuttering low whimpers.\n\n\"I know, old fellow,\" his new friend said, \"you're trying to thank me.\nIt's all right now. Don't worry!\"\n\nAnd Prince Jan knew that it was all right. That night he slept on the\nsoft comforter in the little house.\n\nAs day after day went past, Jan began to feel strong again, but it took\neight long months before his beautiful hair grew out and his eyes at\nlast lost their pitiful pleading. At first he could not understand about\nhis new friend, whom he heard other men call \"Captain Smith, the\npoundmaster.\" He remembered what the little white dog had said about\npounds being places where dogs were killed when they had no friends to\nclaim them, but Jan knew that his friend would not hurt any dog.\n\nEach day, now, Jan followed the captain into the long room where dogs\nwere tied with ropes, just as he, himself, had been kept that first\nnight. During sunshiny days of the snowless winter, these dogs were led\ninto the back yard of the bungalow. It had a high board fence, so they\ncould run about and stretch, or lie in the warm grass.\n\nNone of these dogs ever stayed very long, but they all soon learned to\nlove the old captain and would rush around his feet or crawl against\nhim, wagging their tails. A few, bolder than the others, leaped up to\nlick his hands, or pretended they were going to fight him, but when\nthey got near, they turned and raced about him in big circles, barking\nand yelping as though they were laughing at the joke.\n\nAll the time, the old man stood smiling, his hands held out to caress\nthose nearest. New dogs came with the others, and often some of the\nolder dogs would disappear. Then Prince Jan would look at the captain,\nwondering, but never doubting his friend who loved all dogs.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VII\n\nHIPPITY-HOP\n\n\nThe loving care given Jan by the captain for eight months made him well\nand happy, and above all brought back his lost faith in people, so that\nhe became the gentle, affectionate dog that he used to be before he knew\nwhat cruelty meant.\n\nOne of Jan's ancestors had been a Newfoundland dog. These are very large\ndogs with long, silky black and white hair. Though not so large as the\nSt. Bernards, they resemble them in build and show the same\nintelligence, loyalty, and kind disposition. Newfoundland dogs are\nwonderful swimmers and do not have to be trained to go out and rescue\npeople who are drowning. So it was very natural for Prince Jan to enjoy\nswimming.\n\nThe old poundmaster and Jan walked on the beach nearly every day, and if\nthe dog saw a bit of driftwood near the shore, he would swim out and\nget it. His master then put the wood in a basket so it could be taken\nhome to burn in the fireplace on cool nights. Often when Jan was alone\non the beach and spied floating wood, he dashed through the surf for it,\nand, if it were not too heavy, dragged it to the bungalow. Whenever he\ndid this, he was petted and praised by the old man. Then Jan felt very\nproud because he was helping his master.\n\nOne day as he wandered alone on the shore he saw a lot of wood floating\non the waves. Though it was quite a distance he did not hesitate to\nplunge after it. The salt water splashed over his head; sometimes he was\ncompletely under big waves, and once a high curling breaker caught and\nturned him over and over, while his legs stuck up from the peak of the\nwave, but Jan thought it all great sport. He shook his big head so that\nhis long ears flapped, and his strong paws sent him into deeper water\nwhere the waves rolled in long lines but did not curl up and break so\nroughly as nearer the shore.\n\nThe boards were fastened together, and Jan saw this was a much harder\ntask than he had ever attempted before. He grabbed the edge of a plank\nin his powerful jaws and twisting sharply, struck back, for land.\nSeveral times the force of the water and the weight of the little raft\nmade him let go, but each time he caught the driftwood and fought his\nway toward the beach. Land was still quite distant when he heard a faint\nnoise, and then he saw that a tiny grey kitten was clinging to the\nboards.\n\n\"Hold on,\" called Jan, but the kitten did not seem to hear him. It lay\nperfectly still.\n\nHe tried to swim faster, fearing the waves might wash the little\ncreature off, for at times the water covered the raft and Jan's head,\ntoo. He gained the shore and dragged the wreckage far back to safety.\nJan sniffed at the kitten. Its eyes were shut and it did not move. He\nknew that most cats are afraid of dogs, so he went off a little way and\nsat down, waiting patiently for it to wake up.\n\nAfter many minutes Jan went over and pushed it gently with his nose. It\ndid not stir. Then he sat down and looked at it thoughtfully,\nremembering that when the dogs of the Hospice found a traveller in the\nsnow whom they could not waken, they hurried for help. His mother and\nBruno had told him that, and Jan had never forgotten those lessons, nor\nthe days he and Rollo had been trained by Brother Antoine.\n\nHis tongue licked the wet fur, but the kitten's eyes stayed shut. Jan\nlifted his head, gave a loud bark and raced away through the sand,\nkicking it with his fast-flying feet so that it formed tiny, yellow\nclouds.\n\nInto the little sitting-room he rushed, leaving a damp trail across the\nfloor. The captain looked up in surprise and stopped lighting his pipe\nwhen the dog, dripping wet, stood in front of him and barked loudly.\n\n\"What's the matter, Jan?\" he questioned. \"I never saw you so fussed up!\nAnd you're dripping wet, too!\"\n\nJan danced around, barking, then dashed to the gate but there he stopped\nand looked back, wagging his tail.\n\n\"Do you want me to go with you?\" asked the old man, rising slowly.\n\nThe dog leaped against the gate, shoving it open, then ran ahead, only\nto return and bark again.\n\n\"All right,\" the poundmaster picked up his cap, and when he followed,\nJan's delight could not have been misunderstood by any one.\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" he kept shouting back, and in dog-talk that meant,\n\"Hurry! Hurry!\"\n\nAnd Captain Smith did hurry as fast as he could, but Jan reached the\ndriftwood long before the old man. The kitten was in the same place,\njust as he had left it.\n\n\"Why, it's a kitten!\" cried Jan's master, as he, too, reached the spot.\n\"Poor little thing!\"\n\nHe stooped down and picked up the tiny, limp body. \"I think it's dead,\nJan, but you did your best to save it. Didn't you?\"\n\nThe dog watched intently, his tail waved slowly and his nose touched the\nhand that was gently rubbing the wet fur. Then, without any warning, the\nkitten's eyes opened and blinked and it uttered a faint mew.\n\n\"Well! I declare, it's alive after all!\" the captain exclaimed. \"It must\nhave been washed ashore from some wrecked boat, judging from that\ndriftwood raft. Looks most starved to death, Jan. If there's any truth\nthat cats have nine lives, this little thing must have used up a good\nmany of its lives getting to land. Come along, Jan! We'll try to save\nwhat's left, anyway.\"\n\nThe dog scampered toward the bungalow, running back at times to leap\nabout the old man. Jan was so happy that he had saved the poor little\nthing. It was only a little, grey kitten, and at the Hospice, of course,\nthe dogs saved people; but that was in a place where there was snow.\n\nWhen they all reached the kitchen, Jan crowded against the captain, who\nrubbed the shivering little cat with an old towel. Then it was placed on\nthe floor with a saucer of milk. As the milk disappeared, the dog in his\ndelight, moved closer, but the frightened animal humped up its back,\nfuzzed its thin tail and spit at him.\n\nOf course, it did not know that Jan had saved its life, or that he did\nnot want to hurt it, now. He moved away and sat down quietly to watch\nit. The saucer was filled with milk a second time, and the kitten's\ntongue lapped as fast as it could go. Its sides bulged out from its\nscrawny body when it had emptied the saucer and moved across the room.\n\n\"You poor little thing!\" cried the old man, picking it up gently. \"It's\nonly got three legs, Jan!\"\n\nThe poundmaster fixed his glasses and examined a hind leg which had no\nfoot. \"I guess it was born that way,\" he spoke. \"Must have been taken\non some boat as a mascot. Well, it doesn't matter what has happened to\nit, just so it's comfortable now, Jan!\"\n\nThe kitten went back to the empty saucer, and sniffed at it, then with a\nfunny little hop and jump, it came back and rubbed, purring, against the\nold man's leg, but it kept a sharp watch on the big dog.\n\n\"We'll call it Hippity-Hop,\" decided Captain Smith, and as neither the\nkitten nor Jan suggested a better name, that settled it.\n\nHippity-Hop was really quite a nice little kitten, even if she did not\nhave as many legs as most cats have. Her fur was dark grey, a white\nbreast and ring around her neck looked as though she had put on a clean\nshirt and collar, while every one of her three paws was snow-white, like\nnice white gloves. She spent a great deal of her time washing her fur\nwith her tongue.\n\nFor many days Hippity-Hop was afraid of Jan, who was big enough to\nswallow her at one gulp; but when she learned that he stood back and let\nher eat first from his dish, although she had just cleaned her own\nplate, she lost her fear and grew to love him. Each night after supper\nshe crawled between his paws and went to sleep, while he lay very\nstill, that he might not waken his little friend.\n\nJan was very sure that Hippity-Hop was the nicest little kitten in the\nworld, after she had learned one thing:\n\nWhen first she went to live with the captain and Jan and had seen\nCheepsie walking around on the floor, Hippity-Hop's green eyes\nglistened. Then her claws reached out from the fur that hid them and her\ntail twitched and jerked as she crouched to spring on the little yellow\nbird that was paying no attention to the kitten. But, just as she was\nready to jump, there was a terrible roar behind her and she was grabbed\nby Jan's big jaws.\n\nHippity-Hop gave a yowl of fear, and twisted to scratch Jan's eyes, but\nhe gripped her firmly, though his teeth did not hurt her. Captain Smith,\nhearing the commotion ran into the room and understood at once what had\nhappened. He took the kitten from Jan, and though Hippity-Hop spit and\nscratched and yowled, the old man dipped her several times in a tub of\nwater. Cats hate water, and Hippity-Hop hated water more than most\ncats, for it made her think of the time she had been almost drowned in\nthe ocean.\n\n\"You've got to learn to be kind to Cheepsie, or else you can't live here\nwith us,\" the old man said as he set the kitten on the porch floor.\n\nThe kitten began to lick her wet fur, but she was badly frightened and\nvery sure that if Jan did not eat her up, the captain would put her back\nin the ocean again. So she resolved never to bother Cheepsie after that\none time.\n\nThe bird seemed to understand, too, for it was not long after this that\nHippity-Hop, Jan and Cheepsie ate out of the same dish. At times the\nbird would perch on the dog's head and sing to them all. Jan always sat\nas still as he could, until the song ended and Cheepsie had flown over\nto the captain's shoulder. Often the old man took his violin from the\ncorner, and as he played he whistled or sang in a quavering voice, Jan's\ntail beat time on the floor, Hippity-Hop joined with a song of her own,\nthough it was only a loud purr, while Cheepsie, perched on their loved\nmaster's shoulder, sang and trilled as loudly as he could, trying to\nmake more music than the bird that lived in the violin.\n\n\"It's a fine old world, Jan!\" the poundmaster would say, as he put the\nviolin away in its box.\n\nThen Hippity-Hop and Jan knew it was time for bed, and Cheepsie hurried\nto his cage and tucked his little head under his yellow wing.\n\n\n\n\nChapter VIII\n\nTHE MUZZLE\n\n\nJan's curiosity about the dogs that disappeared was satisfied when a\nlady in a handsome gown was driven to the bungalow one evening.\n\nCaptain Smith met her with a happy smile, then he brought in an Airedale\ndog that had been with the other dogs for many weeks. The lady patted\nthe dog, spoke to it gently, then she rose from her chair and the\ncaptain followed her to the gate where an automobile was waiting. The\nAiredale was lifted into the seat beside her.\n\n\"He will have the kindest care,\" she leaned forward to say, \"and I hope\nyou will be able to find homes for all the other dogs, too. I will tell\nmy friends about them. Captain Smith, does the city pay for their feed\nwhile you find homes for them all?\"\n\nJan saw his master slowly shake his head, \"It does not take much to feed\nthem,\" he answered. \"I am allowed to feed them a week, but I manage the\nrest of it from my salary. It makes me happy to see their gratitude, for\nmost of them have been cuffed about so they don't know that there are\npeople who will be kind and love them.\"\n\nAfter the visitor left, Jan lay quietly watching the old man moving\nabout the room. Now, he understood everything, and the dog rose quickly\nand thrust his nose into the wrinkled hand. The smile on the old man's\nface went deep into Jan's heart as the poundmaster, lifting the dog's\nhead, looked into Jan's eyes, saying, \"It's a pretty hard thing when any\nhuman being is without a friend, Jan; but people can speak up for\nthemselves. A dog can't do that, and yet, he is the best friend any man\ncan have.\"\n\nSo Jan always felt happy after that day, for when he missed one of the\ndogs now, he knew it had found a home and some one to love it. And on\nthose days the poundmaster went around with shining eyes while his lips\npuckered up in a cheerful whistle, or Jan heard him singing:'\n\n    \"Old dog Tray is ever faithful,\n      Grief cannot drive him away;\n    He's gentle and he's kind\n    And you'll never, never find\n      A better friend than old dog Tray.\"\n\nMany times when friends called to talk and smoke with the Captain, Jan\nwould go for a short walk along the beach. One evening the ocean looked\nso inviting that the dog could not resist swimming far out, barking and\nsnapping at floating kelp. It was much later than usual when he reached\nthe shore and shook his long fur until it showered the salt water like a\nrain storm, then with a loud \"Woof!\" of happiness, he ran toward his\nhome.\n\nThe high cliffs that rose above the beach threw dark shadows on the\nsand. The little bungalow where the captain lived was at the top of this\ncliff overlooking the ocean. The pound was not far away, and there were\nseveral other bungalows a little distance apart from each other, and a\nflight of wooden steps edged a twisting footpath which led directly up\nto the front gate of Jan's home.\n\nIt was easier to scamper up the pathway than climb the wooden steps, and\nthe dog hurried to reach the top; but a slight noise made him pause and\nlook at the thick brush near him. There was nothing to be seen, but\nJan's ears listened sharply while his sensitive nose sniffed the air\nsuspiciously. One sniff was enough to make the hair bristle along his\nback. William, his old enemy, was near.\n\nJan whirled quickly, his eyes shining with fury and hate, and his hair\nformed a stiff ridge along his back while his teeth gleamed in a snarl.\nSomething slipped over his head and despite his struggles, it twisted\ntightly around his neck. A strange odor made him sick and weak when he\ntried to breathe. His paws clawed in his attempts to tear the sack from\nhis head, so that he could breathe and fight, but his legs grew limp, a\nnoise sounded inside his ears, something seemed to be hammering at the\ntop of his head. He made one more effort, staggered a few steps, then\ncrumpled down on the sand. But he knew it was William's boot that kicked\nhim, and William's voice that said, \"Guess that will settle you.\" Jan\ntried to growl but he was too sick to make a sound.\n\nThe next thing he knew was when he woke in a strange dark place. His\nwhole body was stiff and sore, he felt sick all over and something hurt\nhis nose terribly. His paws clawed at the thing that hurt. It was made\nof wire that cut deeply in his flesh. He knew it was a muzzle, for he\nhad seen other dogs suffer from them. The more he clawed, the worse it\nhurt.\n\nThen he rubbed his head sideways on the floor, but this made matters\nworse, so he gave up fighting and lay with his nose against the floor\nuntil he could stand the pain no longer. When he staggered to his feet,\nhe found a rope held him, but when he tried to chew the rope the muzzle\nkept his jaws closed so that he was barely able to thrust the tip of his\nswollen tongue between his front teeth.\n\nJan suffered torture, not only because the wire cut his flesh, but also\nbecause any dog, when frightened, sick, or too hot, becomes feverish and\nhis tongue hangs from his mouth. That is the way a dog sweats, and\nPrince Jan's mouth was clamped together by the muzzle. He could not hear\nany noise in the room, so he lay down and kept very quiet. There was\nreally nothing else he could do, except howl. He knew that William had\nsomething to do with all this trouble, and he hated William more than\never.\n\nA door opened. Jan sprang to his feet, hoping he might be able to break\nthe rope and escape before the door was closed. He crouched and leaped\nwith all his strength, but the rope was too strong and he fell with a\nthud to the floor, where he panted heavily. A flash of light almost\nblinded him, but he saw William and snarled defiance. Another man was in\nthe room. Jan caught a glimpse of him, gave a sniff, and knew that this\nother man was the one who had been with William in the Pixley stable. He\nfelt that he had two enemies now to fight.\n\nAs William came toward the dog, Jan strained on the rope.\n\n\"You'll get that temper taken out of you before long,\" threatened the\nman, at the same time keeping carefully beyond the length of the rope.\nBut William's hatred outbalanced his caution, and he lifted his foot to\ngive the dog a kick. Jan shrank back, not from fear as William supposed,\nbut to get a better chance to spring and grab the man's leg.\n\n\"Let him alone,\" called the other man. \"The worse you treat that dog the\nharder it will be to handle him.\"\n\nWilliam scowled. \"The best thing is to kill him now. We're taking a big\nrisk on the chance of selling him.\"\n\n\"Oh, go ahead and kill him if you want to,\" the other man shrugged his\nshoulders. \"Let your spite keep you from making a thousand dollars.\"\n\nHe held out a bottle, \"Here's the chloroform. Go on, finish the job if\nyou're going to.\"\n\n\"I don't believe you can sell him,\" sneered William. \"You just said that\nbecause you knew I was going to kill him before I left here.\"\n\n\"If you didn't hate dogs the way you do,\" replied Shorty, \"you'd know\nthat he'll sell for a thousand dollars as soon as he is over the\nCanadian line. The man I told you about will buy that dog without a\nquestion.\"\n\n\"Some one will recognize the dog before we get there, if the old man\nstirs things up.\"\n\n\"Not when I get him fixed,\" bragged Shorty.\n\n\"There's no time to fool with him,\" persisted William, \"We've got to get\naway quick.\"\n\n\"Let me alone,\" snapped Shorty. \"This is my end of the job. If you stop\npicking on the dog, I'll have no trouble with him. I never knew a dog\nfrom the time we were kids that didn't hate you on sight.\"\n\n\"Yes, and you're a regular fool over them,\" William retorted. \"You take\ncare of him and get the money for him, and I'll look out for the machine\nand sell that. But you've got to keep that dog muzzled or there'll be\ntrouble coming your way fast and plenty. See?\"\n\nShorty did not answer and William went out. Jan and Shorty faced each\nother. The dog's muscles were taut, his eyes alert. The man looked at\nhim steadily.\n\n\"You're the dandiest, spunkiest dog I ever saw,\" he said at last, as\nthough sure that Jan understood the words. \"I like you, old fellow, and\nI'd turn you loose, if I dared.\"\n\nHe placed a pan of water in front of the dog and the angry gleam\nsoftened in Jan's eyes. He thrust his nose into the pan but the muzzle\nwas too tight to permit him to drink. The dog looked up at Shorty, who\nreached out his hand. Jan's tail waved, then he felt fingers run lightly\nalong his shoulders, fumble at the buckle of the muzzle and the cruel\nthing fell to the floor. Before the dog lapped the water that he craved,\nhe stared into Shorty's face and saw a kindly smile that told him this\nman was a friend. Jan's hot tongue touched Shorty's hand before turning\nto lap the cool liquid.\n\n\"You'll be all right now,\" Shorty said as he rubbed the places where the\nstrap had cut deeply. Then when Jan had finished drinking, the man fed\nhim bits of meat.\n\nAfter the meal was over, Shorty took a pair of clippers and cropped\nJan's long hair close to the skin. It did not hurt, so the dog submitted\nquietly. A sponge and bucket of dark liquid were brought by the man and\nJan was thoroughly saturated, until the dye dripped to the floor.\n\n\"Got to put on that muzzle, boy, before he gets back,\" but this time the\nstrips did not hurt so badly.\n\nWilliam chuckled when he saw the dog. \"Great stunt, Shorty! The\npoundmaster wouldn't know his own dog if he caught him now!\"\n\nHe picked up a couple of bundles and a suitcase, while Shorty led Jan by\nthe rope. They were in a deep canyon, where no sound of the ocean could\nbe heard. Jan did not know the place. He had never been away from the\nnoise of the surf since living in California. A big, black automobile\nstood under a tree. William tossed the things into it and climbed to the\nfront seat with a laugh.\n\n\"The police will have as much trouble finding a grey machine as the\npoundman will have finding a long-haired St. Bernard dog. We'll hit the\nroad lively at night and camp in the day. There's just one thing you've\ngot to remember. If I see you getting stuck on that dog I'm going to\nkill him. I'm taking him along because you said you could sell him, and\nI'm not going to stand any nonsense about it.\"\n\nShorty's only answer was to open the back door of the machine and motion\nthe dog to jump. He obeyed and curled on the floor. Shorty sat in the\nback seat while William drove.\n\nJan did not sleep during the long, dark hours they sped over the road.\nHe kept wondering what the captain would think, and hoping he could get\nback home some way. Once in a while he lifted his head as a flash of\nlight showed another automobile passing. At daybreak William turned into\nthick brush and drove over rough ground until they stopped beside a\nshallow stream.\n\nStill muzzled, Jan leaped from the car and followed Shorty, but he\nwatched William closely. The dog was tied after he had been allowed to\ndrink at the creek. William loafed while Shorty made coffee and cooked a\nmeal, which the older man ate, grumbling all the time. Then he threw\nhimself on the ground and dragged his hat over his face.\n\nShorty fed Jan, and after clearing away the breakfast things, moved\ncloser to the dog. Jan's tail rustled the dry leaves and twigs, as\nShorty, with a boyish smile, stretched on the ground beside him. A hand\ntouched one of Jan's ears and pulled it gently, but the hand was\nfriendly and the dog's eyes showed he understood. Then, tired from the\nlong ride, Shorty and Jan slept soundly.\n\nAt dusk another meal was prepared and eaten, and they started again on\ntheir journey. For two more days and nights they travelled in the dark\nand camped in hidden places during the day, so that no one could see\nthem. The muzzle was never taken again from Jan's nose, for William\nwatched constantly and repeated his warnings several times. He did not\nknow, however, that Shorty eased the strap so that the wire and leather\ncould not cut, and in this way he made Jan as comfortable as was\npossible.\n\nThe night of the third day there was a full moon, and dim shadows were\ncast by scattered trees near the road. It was very warm and Jan's muzzle\nworried him; then, too, he was stiff from lack of the exercise to which\nhe had been accustomed. Shorty noticed the dog's restlessness and leaned\ndown. His fingers slipped under the strap and wires, then touched the\nbuckle at the side of the head. Jan squirmed nearer and wagged his tail.\nEach night when they were well on the way, Shorty did this much to help\nthe dog, but he had to tighten the muzzle before William turned the\nmachine from the road to camp for the day.\n\nAs Shorty leaned over, the car reached a clear place in the road, where\nthe moon shone brightly. Shorty did not see William turn, but a brutal\nfist struck full force against Shorty's face and he tumbled from the\nseat into the bottom of the automobile against Jan.\n\nThe dog growled, but the growl was meant for William, not Shorty. Then\nJan knew that Shorty was up on his feet and both men were swearing and\nfighting, while the automobile twisted from side to side of the road,\nand was going faster and faster. There was a crash. Jan whirled over and\nover through the air and as he struck the ground he heard a man's scream\nof pain. He did not know whether it was Shorty or William who cried out,\nbut he did know that he was free, and he dashed into the darkness of\nthe thick trees, not knowing where he was going, not caring where he\nwent, only the one thing was in his mind--he was leaving William behind\nand he must run as fast as he could.\n\n\n\n\nChapter IX\n\nJAN'S JOURNEY TO THE LAND OF MAKE-BELIEVE\n\n\nAfter the first wild dash for freedom, Jan settled to a steady jog for\nthe rest of the night. When dawn came, some instinct made him turn into\nthe brush where it grew most thickly. His one fear now was that William\nmight find him. His one wish was to get back home. He did not know what\nkept him moving toward the south. He had nothing to guide him save the\nstrange feeling that made him sure if he just kept on, some day he would\nreach the gate of the bungalow and see Hippity-Hop and the captain\nwatching down the street for him.\n\nJan was able to lap water when he found it, but he could not fight, nor\neat, even if he had found food, for the muzzle clamped his jaws\ntogether. He knew better now than to tug at it with his claws or rub it\nagainst the ground. The second night he was very hungry, but he started\nhopefully on his way, plodding steadily in the same direction. At dawn\nhe was faint and weak from hunger and exhaustion, and when it grew dark\nagain he did not want to move. Then he thought of the captain. Wearily\nJan rose to his feet and with low-hanging head he dragged slowly along.\n\nThe fourth day after the escape, he was too weak to struggle further,\nand lay limp on the ground, with his eyes closed. He wanted to keep\nperfectly still, though he was suffering keenly from thirst, for he had\nnot found any water that day. A rabbit darted from the thick brush close\nto Jan's head. The rustling of leaves made the dog's eyes open. He saw\nthe little creature sit up in sudden fright, but Jan did not try to\ncatch it, he was too tired and besides he knew that the muzzle held him\na prisoner. So he watched the rabbit hop about him fearlessly, until the\nsound of steps in dry leaves startled it into the bushes.\n\nJan heard the steps, too. He thought William had found him, and knowing\nthat he could not fight nor defend himself, he dragged himself wearily\nto his feet and staggered with trembling legs a few, short steps. Then\nhe dropped heavily.\n\nVoices sounded. Jan's ears lifted and quivered, his eyes brightened and\nhis tail moved slightly. He was not afraid of children. They had always\nloved and petted him. Once more he rose and slowly pushed through the\nthicket to an open place where two little girls laughed and chattered as\nthey picked wild blackberries into a small tin pail.\n\nHe edged toward the sunbonnets bobbing over the pail. The children heard\nthe rustle and turned about, then the pail dropped, the berries spilled\non the ground and the sunbonnet children ran, screaming wildly, \"Father!\nFather! It's a big, black bear to eat all of us up!\"\n\nThe dog halted, wondering why they ran from him. He heard a man's quick\nwords, the children's excited voices and a woman's soothing tones.\n\n\"It's all right now!\" thought poor Prince Jan. \"Women and children won't\nhurt me.\"\n\nHe moved through the brush, but found himself looking straight into the\nbarrel of a gun held by steady hands. Jan knew what that meant. His legs\ntrembled as he pressed forward. Oh, if he could only make this man\nunderstand that he did not mean to hurt or frighten the little girls! He\nonly wanted some one to take off this horrible muzzle.\n\nThe dog's pleading eyes were lifted to the man's face and then, unable\nto stand any longer, Jan fell weakly to the ground and pulled himself\nforward, inch by inch, to show that he meant no harm, and all the while\nhis ragged tail kept beating very feebly. The man looked at him, then\nlowered the gun.\n\n\"Come here, girls! Your bear is only a lost dog!\"\n\nJan did not look around at the patter of feet, but his paws went to the\nmuzzle, and as he lay with his head against the man's feet, the\npitifully pleading eyes and tugging paws of the dog spoke as plainly as\nwords.\n\n\"Poor fellow!\" said a gentle voice, then a woman's fingers worked\ncarefully at the strap and Jan felt the muzzle fall away.\n\nHe touched her hand with his dry, stiff tongue, and saw the two little\nsunbonnet children, laughing, yet still afraid of the big dog, come to\ntheir mother's side. The man noticed the broken rope and examined the\ncollar.\n\n\"No name or license,\" he spoke at last, \"but somebody will be looking\nfor him. I wonder how long he has been wandering around with this muzzle\non him, poor chap!\"\n\n\"Bring water, children,\" said the mother, \"and the things that were left\nover from lunch. He must be hungry.\"\n\nThe tin pail was rescued from the ground and filled twice with water\nbefore Jan's thirst was slaked and he looked up with grateful eyes and\ndripping jaws. While he was drinking his fill, a basket had been opened\nby the children and slices of cold meat and bits of buttered bread were\nplaced before him. He swallowed the food greedily, but paused between\ngulps to wag his tail and let them know how he thanked them.\n\nFor some time after this he lay quietly resting while the sunbonnet\nchildren sat close beside him and wondered where he came from and what\nhis name was. Ruth, the younger, put out her hand to touch him timidly.\n\n\"I'm not afraid of him. He won't bite. He isn't a bear to eat us all up,\nis he, Charlotte?\"\n\n\"I--I--aren't afraid, either,\" Charlotte's voice was uncertain, but her\nhand touched the dog's big head. Then both children lost all fear of\nhim and Jan forgot about William and the hours of suffering, for the two\nlittle girls curled close to him, and soon they were all three fast\nasleep.\n\nThe sun was almost setting when the father and mother tucked the basket\nand shawls into the automobile. Jan watched with puzzled eyes as they\ncarefully put away some little boards. He had noticed when he woke from\nhis doze that both the man and the woman were sitting on stools with\nthese boards propped before them, and they were making marks on them.\nThe father was already in the machine and the little girls climbed in,\nthen the mother put her foot on the step and Jan let out a wild howl\nthat made them all start. He thought they were going to leave him behind\nand he knew that he could never run fast enough to follow them.\n\n\"Good gracious! What a howl!\" exclaimed the man, laughing. \"We won't\nleave you. Jump up, old chap!\"\n\nJan lost no time scrambling into the automobile, then it ran swiftly\nalong a smooth road which finally twisted through a beautiful canyon.\nGreat trees were on all sides and a tiny stream bubbled and danced far\nbelow. Birds sang and rabbits dashed out of the brush with swift hops\nand jerks, but Jan did not want to eat the rabbits now. The children\nkept laughing and clapping their hands, calling to Jan, \"Look, look,\nquick!\" Sometimes their hands pressed his head to make him turn where\nthey pointed.\n\nJan was very happy on that ride, but he still hoped that by and by he\nmight get back home to Hippity-Hop and the captain.\n\n\n\n\nChapter X\n\nTHE HOME OF THE SUNBONNET BABIES\n\n\nThe home of Jan's new friends was perched high on the top of a mountain\npeak, far above the canyon through which they had driven. Jan heard them\ncall this place Topango Pass. The house stood alone with overhanging oak\ntrees and a garden full of flowers that made him think of the yard in\nfront of the captain's bungalow.\n\nA big stone fireplace was near the house, and pink geraniums grew\nclosely around the little home, while over the porch climbed yellow\nroses that looked as if the fairies had hidden their gold among the\ngreen leaves.\n\n\"This is Roseneath,\" announced Charlotte to Jan as the automobile\nstopped in front of the porch and the two girls jumped out, followed by\nthe dog.\n\n\"Charlotte!\" Ruth said suddenly, stopping halfway up the path, \"we've\ngot to find a name for that dog right away!\"\n\nIt was a very serious matter, so the children sat on the lowest step of\nthe porch and Jan squatted before them. He wished he could help by\ntelling his name and about the Hospice, but all he could do was to sit\nstill and look from one eager little face to the other. After trying\nseveral names they decided on \"Bruin.\"\n\n\"Because he is so big and black, just like a bear!\"\n\nJan rather liked the name. It sounded like Bruno, but of course, the\nsunbonnet children did not know anything about Bruno and the Hospice, so\nthey said Jan was very smart to remember the new name without any\ntrouble at all.\n\nThe next morning he was wakened early by the children's voices and\nhurried to meet them in front of the house. Charlotte had a tin bucket\nin her hand and Jan wondered if they were going to pick more berries.\nBut they went down a path that led to the stable and then he stood still\nin surprise.\n\nRight in front of them was a strange creature about the size of a common\ndog. It had long, white hair, a white beard like a very old man's, two\nhorns curved back over its head and its feet had sharp-pointed hoofs. It\nwas tied by a rope and back of it was a smaller animal of the same\nkind.\n\nCharlotte went past the larger one and sat down on a little wooden stool\nbeside the smaller animal and soon the tin pail was full of milk. Back\nto the house trotted the children, and Jan, very much puzzled, kept\nbeside them. In the kitchen they found the mother cooking breakfast. Jan\nlifted his nose and sniffed at the odor of broiling steak and hot\nbiscuit.\n\n\"Milk for the berries we picked yesterday,\" the mother of the sunbonnet\nchildren said smiling. \"Won't we have a fine breakfast this morning! And\nthere's a nice bone in the steak for Bruin, too!\"\n\nShe poured a little milk into a pan and placed it on the floor for Jan.\nHe knew that the white animal must have been a cow, yet it was not like\nthe cow at the Pixleys' home, but when he tasted the milk, it was just\nas nice as the big, yellow cow's milk.\n\nWhile breakfast was being eaten, the children and their parents chatted\ntogether and Jan looked about the place. The walls of the rooms were\nhung with beautiful pictures, among them many fat little babies with\nsunbonnets hiding their faces. He was sure that if the sunbonnets were\npushed back he would see the faces of Ruth and Charlotte laughing at\nhim.\n\nAs time went by Jan was quite happy and learned to love his gentle\nplaymates very dearly. He grew accustomed to seeing the artists sitting\nbefore boards, painting pictures like those on the walls. Even the\nlittle girls, Ruth and Charlotte, sometimes sat on the ground and made\nhim lie still while they worked away with pencils and pieces of paper\nand told him they were making his picture to put in a book. It did not\nquite explain matters to Jan when Ruth held up one of these papers in\nfront of his nose and said, \"You see, Bruin, we're going to be\nill--us--trators like mother when we grow up, and then we'll put you in\na book, maybe!\"\n\nAfter Jan had several good baths the ugly black dye began to wear off\nand his white shirt-front and paws and the white streak on his nose\nshowed plainly. Then the rusty black fur on his entire body became its\nnatural tawny red and grew rapidly. The Melvilles now realized that Jan\nhad been stolen and often wondered who had lost him. They asked the few\npeople they saw but none of them had heard of such a dog, so the family\nfelt that Jan belonged to them.\n\nRuth and Charlotte were much interested when their parents told them\nthat Bruin was a St. Bernard dog, and all about the noble animals that\nlived at the Hospice, for the two artists had visited the place many\nyears before Ruth or Charlotte had been born. When their mother finished\ntelling them these things, Ruth exclaimed, \"Mother! Then you and daddy\nand Charlotte and me are all St. Bernard dogs, because we found Bruin\nwhen he was lost, didn't we?\"\n\nJan was not the only pet of this family. The \"Melville Menagerie\" was\nwhat their mother called the collection of animals. There were two\ngrown-up goats, named Captain Kidd and Mrs. Cream; two baby-goats,\nPeaches and Strawberry; a mother cat named Chicago, because she was\nsmoke color, and her three kittens, Texas, California, and Pennsylvania.\nNext was the canary bird, Pitty-Sing, and last, but not least, five\nhorn-toads which were nameless, but who lived peacefully together in a\nbox with sand to burrow in.\n\nAll of these members of the family interested Jan, but he wanted to be\nfriends with the old cat and her kittens, because he missed Hippity-Hop.\nWhenever he tried to go near them, the four jumped to their feet, arched\ntheir backs, and spat at him so rudely that he gave up making friends,\nand decided that only three-legged cats liked dogs.\n\nEach day about three o'clock all work was put aside by the artists, for\nthis was the time they went to visit \"The Land of Make-Believe.\"\nSometimes they were gypsies, and supper was cooked over a campfire among\nthe oak trees. Again, they pretended Jan was a big bear and he found it\ngreat fun to chase after the children while they ran away as though\nreally afraid of him. Then it was \"Little Red Riding Hood\" with Jan for\nthe wolf, but he did not eat any one, like the wolf did, for he knew he\nwould have a nice piece of meat cooked over the wood fire as they all\nsat about on the ground and pretended they had no place to sleep\nexcepting underneath the trees. When the stars began to twinkle, the\nsunbonnet children said that the angels were lighting the candles in\nHeaven, and very soon it was time to go home for the night.\n\nHaying time in California is different from that of other parts of the\nworld, for it is in May, and many months ahead of other places. The\nfields were dotted with little mounds of yellow hay drying in the sun,\nand one evening Mrs. Melville told the children she had a new game for\nthe Land of Make-Believe. The next afternoon they could hardly wait\nuntil they reached the hay-fields.\n\n\"Now, children,\" said their mother, \"these are the snow-covered peaks of\nthe Alps that I told you about. Ruth must be a lost traveller and wander\naround among these mountains of snow until she is too tired to go any\nfurther. Then she must lie down and pull the hay over her and wait to be\nrescued from death in the snow.\"\n\nAs Ruth scampered away, Jan followed her, but Mrs. Melville called him\nback. He sat looking at her, but his head turned frequently toward the\nplace he had last seen little Ruth. Several times he started to get up,\nbut each time he sat down again and waited.\n\n\"You, Charlotte, are a monk from the Hospice and Bruin will go with you\nto search for lost travellers in this terrible snow-storm.\"\n\nJan stood very still, but his tail flapped around in circles while Mrs.\nMelville fastened a canteen of water to his collar, then she said,\n\"Now, Bruin, go find Ruth!\"\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" rang out the big voice, just as the dogs of the Hospice\ncalled when they started on the trail. Followed closely by Charlotte,\nJan led the way from one hay mound to another, poking his nose deeply\ninto each. Charlotte kept calling, \"Find Ruth, Bruin! Go find her! She's\nlost in the snow and will freeze to death if we don't find her soon!\"\n\nJan forgot it was only the Land of Make-Believe, while he burrowed into\nthe haycocks. As he ran from one to the other, his bark sounded again\nand again, for he remembered the lessons Brother Antoine had given him\nand Rollo, and the canteen that bumped against his breast felt like the\nlittle wooden casket he had carried on the trail. At last he found the\nlost traveller. Jan lifted his head and uttered a sharp bark of triumph\nbefore his nose began tossing the hay that completely covered Ruth.\n\n\"He found her! He found her!\" shrieked Charlotte in greatest excitement,\njust as though Ruth had really been lost in the snow-drifts.\n\nBoth parents ran to watch the game and Ruth's face appeared in the hay,\nlike a pink Easter egg in a nest. She squinted up, saw her mother and\nfather, Charlotte and Jan, then remembered that she was lost and shut\nher eyes quickly. Jan touched her cheek with his nose, and licked her\nface. She could not keep still any longer, because she wanted to sneeze\nand that would spoil the whole game. So she opened her eyes, put up her\nhand and unfastened the canteen from Jan's collar and swallowed such a\nbig gulp of water that she almost choked. Her arms went about Jan's neck\nand while she clung, he moved slowly away from the mound, his tail\nwaving rapidly and his big eyes full of pride. Ruth had been saved from\na terrible death in the snow-drifts of the Alps!\n\nThe whole party of rescuers hastened to the Hospice under the trees,\nwhere supper was almost ready, and as they sat around the outdoor\nfireplace waiting the meal, they all declared that Bruin had acted just\nas if he had really lived at the Hospice and knew all about the dogs\nthere and how they worked.\n\nThree months after Jan went to live at Roseneath, the family sat reading\none evening, and Jan sprawled at their feet. Ruth and Charlotte were\ndeeply interested in the pictures of a new magazine for children, and\nMr. Melville held a newspaper. He had been to the nearest town that day\nand had brought the mail home with him.\n\nSuddenly he let the paper drop to his lap and sat looking at Prince Jan,\nthen he picked up the paper again, saying, \"Listen to this!\"\n\nAll of them turned expectantly, for the parents always read aloud\nanything that might interest the children.\n\n    CAPTURED THIEF WORRIES OVER LOST DOG\n\n    John Leavitt, alias Shorty, now held as one of the two men who stole\n    and wrecked an automobile belonging to Paul E. Wallace of Los\n    Angeles, has made a confession implicating his half-brother, William\n    Leavitt, formerly stableman at the beach-home of the Pixleys.\n\n    According to Shorty's statement, they had stolen a St. Bernard dog\n    from Captain Smith, the Poundmaster, intending to sell the animal in\n    Canada. Shorty became attached to the dog, Prince Jan, and in a\n    quarrel with his brother over the muzzling of the dog, the machine\n    was wrecked.\n\n    Leavitt evidently supposed Shorty was dead beneath the wreckage, and\n    escaped. Shorty was found later, seriously injured, and his recovery\n    was not expected. His one anxiety seems to be that Prince Jan, being\n    muzzled, might have died of starvation. Any one knowing the fate of\n    the dog is asked to communicate with Captain Smith, through this\n    paper.\n\n    Prince Jan is a pure St. Bernard, with long fur, but he had been\n    clipped and his hair dyed black.\n\n    No trace of William Leavitt has been found, but the authorities are\n    looking for him. He has a criminal record in the East and is now\n    wanted there. Shorty has been bound over for trial.\n\nThe family looked at the dog sleeping peacefully at their feet.\n\n\"Not the least doubt,\" said Mr. Melville.\n\n\"Call him, Ruth. Call his name--Prince Jan--and see how he acts.\"\n\nThe child's lips quivered and her eyes filled with tears as she went to\nher mother's side. \"But, mother, if he is Prince Jan, will somebody take\nhim away from us?\"\n\nCharlotte's eyes, too, were blurred and her lower lip dropped.\n\n\"Suppose,\" the mother spoke gently, and her arm went about the slender\nlittle figure leaning against her in half-choked grief, \"Suppose, dear,\nsome one found you when you were lost, and daddy and I didn't know where\nyou were, and the people couldn't understand when you tried to tell them\nwho you were and where we lived,\" the voice grew very tender and grave,\n\"and then the people found out where you belonged and that we were\nlooking everywhere for you, and grieving because we did not know whether\nyou were hungry and unhappy. Do you think it would be right for them to\nkeep you away from us, even if they did love you very, very dearly?\"\n\nRuth's head hung low and nobody spoke until she lifted her face with a\ntear-wet smile, \"Jan! Prince Jan!\" she called in her high, sweet voice.\n\nThey saw the muscles of the sleeping dog twitch. The big paws moved\nslightly, as though in his dreams he was running to answer that name.\nHis tail threshed lightly on the floor, but still he slept.\n\n\"Jan, Prince Jan!\" both children now called.\n\nHe leaped to his feet. Quivering with excitement he faced them.\n\n\"Jan!\" repeated Mr. Melville.\n\nThe dog darted to the man's side and stood with eager, expectant eyes\nand furiously switching tail. When he heard the name from Mrs. Melville,\nJan ran to her and laid his head on her knee, looking into her face\nquestioning her dumbly.\n\n\"He knows his name! He is Prince Jan!\" the children cried as they\nswooped down on him with squeezes and hugs, while the dog whined and\ntwisted and uttered sharp barks of excitement until they were all\nlaughing at him.\n\n\"Do you want to go home to the captain, Jan?\" Mrs. Melville leaned over\nhim as she spoke.\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" he answered promptly, and they all knew that he meant\n\"Yes.\"\n\nSo Mr. Melville got pen and ink and wrote to the poundmaster, telling\nthat Prince Jan was safe and well, and that he, himself, would bring the\ndog home.\n\nThat was how Prince Jan came back to the captain and Hippity-Hop, at\nlast. He was very happy at going home, yet he looked back wistfully at\nRuth and Charlotte standing on the porch waving their hands, as the\nautomobile drove away from the Land of Make-Believe, where Jan had been\nso kindly treated. But when he saw the ocean again and the road up the\nbluff and knew that he was near the bungalow, he was ready to leap from\nthe machine and dash madly to the place where the captain, Hippity-Hop,\nand Cheepsie lived. He knew then that he loved them more than anybody in\nthe whole world.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XI\n\nPRINCE JAN VISITS SHORTY\n\n\nJan reached the front gate and let out a ringing \"Woof\" of joy that\nbrought the captain and Hippity-Hop out at once. The old man's arms went\nabout Jan's neck, and the dog gave little whines of delight, his tongue\ntouched the wrinkled hands, and his tail went around so fast that it did\nnot look like a tail, but just a blur of fuzzy hair.\n\nWhen Mr. Melville was seated, and the Captain on a chair near by, Jan's\nhead rested on the old man's knee and the toil-worn fingers stroked the\ndog's soft fur. Hippity-Hop rubbed against Jan's legs, purring like a\nnoisy little buzz-saw, and Cheepsie flew down from his cage to perch\nfirst on the shoulder of the captain and then on Prince Jan's head,\nwhile a flood of bird-music filled the little room.\n\n[Illustration: \"_I wish the children could see Jan now!_\"]\n\n\"I wish the children could see Jan now!\" said Mr. Melville, and then he\ntold the captain about finding Jan and the story in the paper that\nhad brought the dog back to his master.\n\nHippity-Hop had been very lonely after Jan's disappearance, and the dog\ndid not dream that the three-legged kitten had mewed and mewed for him\nuntil the old captain picked her up in his arms and said, \"He will come\nback to us some day, Hippity-Hop.\" And each day the old man, with the\nkitten at his side, sat on the front porch watching down the road.\n\nThe morning after Jan's return, Mr. Melville came again to the bungalow\nand he and the captain called Jan to get in the automobile with them.\nHippity-Hop's forlorn little face peered between the curtains of the\nfront window, but none of them heard her plaintive cry as they all\nvanished from her sight. When the automobile stopped, Jan saw a grey\nbuilding of stones with windows crossed by iron bars. He followed his\nfriends into a large room where several men were seated. They spoke to\nthe captain and Mr. Melville, and all looked at Jan, patting his head\nfor some reason, as they talked of him.\n\nThen Jan, the captain, and Mr. Melville followed another man through\nlong dim hallways that had doors on either side, very close together.\nOne of these doors was unlocked, and as Jan and his friends passed\nthrough, the door was shut and locked again.\n\nThey were in a dingy room with grey walls, the only window being high up\nand criss-crossed by bars. It was a very small window. On a cot in a\ncorner of the room sat a man. He turned his head toward them and when he\nsaw the dog, he jumped to his feet, calling, \"Jan!\"\n\n\"Woof!\" answered the dog in surprise as he leaped toward the man.\n\nShorty dropped on his knees and took Jan's head between his hands,\ntalking to the big dog as though talking to a little child whom he loved\nvery dearly. Jan did not know, nor would he have cared had he known,\nthat Shorty was in jail. He only knew that this was his friend who had\ntried to protect him from William's abuse. And all the while, Captain\nSmith and the artist were watching them with kindly eyes.\n\nAt last, Shorty rose and sat on his narrow cot, with his two visitors on\neither side, and Jan, planted right in front of Shorty, turned his head\nfrom one to the other as though he were trying to understand what they\nwere talking about so earnestly. Shorty's hand stroked Jan's head, and\nevery once in awhile the man would say, \"I'm so glad you found him.\"\n\n\"You love dogs, don't you?\" asked the old poundmaster, as they rose to\ngo.\n\nShorty looked down at Jan for a second, then answered, \"I never had any\nfriends in my life excepting dogs.\"\n\nThey left Shorty alone in the little grey room and went back to the men\nin the big room, where the sun streamed across the floor like a tiny\nriver of gold, but back in the other room the window was so high and so\nsmall that the sun could not shine through it at all. Shorty did not\nthink about that now.\n\nThe captain talked to the men, who listened attentively, and finally he\nsaid, \"Judge, I don't believe that any one who loves dogs and is kind to\nthem is bad all the way through. Shorty says he never had a friend in\nhis life except dogs.\"\n\n\"I do not think he is naturally bad,\" answered the judge, who sat in a\nbig chair back of a high desk. \"From what I can learn, he has been under\nWilliam Leavitt's control since they were children. Shorty tried to get\naway from his brother twice, but each time William found and punished\nhim so brutally that the boy was afraid to venture again. There are\nscars on Shorty's feet made by a hot iron the last time he tried to\nescape from his brother. Shorty is not quite nineteen yet. That is how\nhe comes under the Juvenile Court.\"\n\n\"Judge,\" exclaimed the captain, his face alight with eager pleading,\n\"you know there's lots of people that folks call bad, who would be\ndecent if they had a chance. Can't you give Shorty a chance to show that\nhe wants to make good? Send him some place where his brother can't find\nhim?\"\n\n\"Your Honor,\" the artist spoke now, \"if there is any way to arrange it,\nI would like to take the lad up to Roseneath and we will try to help him\nmake good in our Land of Make-Believe, as we call our home.\"\n\nJan did not understand what they were saying, but he knew it had\nsomething to do with Shorty and that the captain was talking very\nearnestly, so the dog edged between his two friends and stood watching\nthe man at the high desk, for all in the room were looking at him. This\nman was very quiet, and seemed to be thinking, then he looked up and\nsaid, \"Bring Shorty in here.\"\n\nA few minutes passed in silence, then the door swung open and Shorty\nshuffled through it. He blinked in the bright sunlight and ducked his\nhead as though he were afraid to look up at them all. Jan moved quickly\nand pushed his nose into Shorty's hand. The face above him lighted with\na sudden, winning smile. The judge watched them both but did not speak.\nThen Shorty remembered where he was and raised his head to face the man\non the high platform. That man was looking with very kindly eyes at the\nlad and the dog.\n\n\"Shorty,\" the judge spoke very plainly, \"if I give you two years'\nsuspended sentence and let you go with Mr. Melville to live on his\nranch, will you try to make good?\"\n\nShorty only stared stupidly. The judge repeated his words more slowly\nand added, \"We will not let it be known where you are, so you need have\nno fear of William. I want to know if you will give me your solemn\npromise--your word of honor--to do your very best?\"\n\nShorty's face twitched, his eyes blinked fast, his hands reached out as\nif he were feeling for some other hand to grasp. The hands hesitated,\ngroped, then one hand moved upward across his face as though to brush\nsomething away that kept him from seeing plainly. Those in the room\nwatched but made no sound.\n\n\"Do you mean it, Judge?\" the lad's voice was low and husky, but there\nwas a tone of pleading in it. \"You ain't just fooling, are you, Judge?\"\n\n\"No,\" the judge spoke very firmly, \"I'm not fooling, Shorty. You are\ngoing to get your chance.\"\n\nThey saw Shorty fling himself down on his knees beside Prince Jan and\npull the dog close to him, while racking sobs shook the boy's shoulders.\nJan twisted around to lick Shorty's face and comfort him, for the dog\ndid not know his friend was crying from happiness. At last Shorty rose\nto his feet, brushing away the tears with his ragged coat sleeve.\n\n\"Judge, I promise you I'll make good or I'll die in the trying,\" he\nsaid, and all those who heard him knew he would do his best.\n\nThe judge stepped down from the big chair and put his hand on the boy's\nshoulder, saying in a kindly voice, \"You're bound to make good, Shorty,\nand we are all your friends!\"\n\nThe other men shook Shorty's hand, and the judge said, with a smile, \"I\nhave a nice collie pup up at my home that I will give you, if Mr.\nMelville doesn't object.\"\n\n\"We have no dog, now that Prince Jan is gone,\" the artist answered\nquickly, \"and I promised my wife that I would bring back some kind of a\ndog for the children. They would be lonesome now, without one. So the\npup will be just as welcome as Shorty will be.\"\n\nShorty forgot this man was a judge, and smiled at him, asking, \"What's\nthe pup's name, please?\"\n\n\"He is a registered pup with a long fancy name, but we just call him\n'Pup,' so you can pick out a name to suit yourself.\"\n\n\"I'm going to call him 'Prince Jan'!\" announced the boy, and all agreed\nthat it was a fine name for any pup.\n\nThey shook hands once more with Shorty and wished him good luck, and\nwhen the boy walked from the room, he held his head high. A smile was on\nhis lips and hope in his eyes. Mr. Melville walked beside him.\n\nThat evening when Jan, Hippity-Hop, Cheepsie, and the captain were\nsitting together, the old man looked at the dog and said, \"Jan, your\nancestors rescued travellers from the snow, but to-day you helped\nShorty get a new start in life, and that is a bigger thing than if you\nhad saved him from death in the Alps.\"\n\nThe dog did not understand the words, but he knew that the smile was the\nsame happy smile that came when the old poundmaster had found a good\nhome for one of the friendless dogs. So Jan was happy, too.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XII\n\nTHE POUNDMASTER'S PROBLEM\n\n\nFOR several days after Shorty had gone on his way to the Land of\nMake-Believe with Mr. Melville, life ran very quietly and happily for\nPrince Jan and his friends in the little bungalow on the cliffs. Then he\nbegan to notice that Captain Smith was worried, and when Jan poked his\nnose into the hand of his friend, though the hand stroked the dog's\nhead, the poundmaster did not smile and his eyes looked as if he saw\nsomething Jan could not see. It worried Jan, though he could do nothing\nbut lie quietly with his anxious eyes fixed on the old man's face.\n\nOne evening after supper a loud knock at the door caused the dog to look\nup quickly, while Hippity-Hop jumped with fuzzed tail and excited eyes.\nThe captain opened the door and two men came in. They shook hands with\nhim and sat down in the chairs he pushed forward. The two men looked\naround the room, stared at the dog, then turned to Jan's master. The\nlook on the poundmaster's face made the dog feel certain that these men\nhad something to do with the old man's worry, so Jan went over and sat\nclose to him, resting his big head on the captain's knee.\n\n\"Is that the dog that was stolen?\" one of the visitors asked at last.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied the captain. \"This is Prince Jan. He was sent to the\npound almost dead with mange and orders through the stableman that the\ndog was to be killed because he was vicious. But,\" the poundmaster\nsmiled down at the dog that was gazing with loving eyes into his face,\n\"you see, all he needed was kind treatment and proper care.\"\n\n\"I understand, Smith,\" the other man now spoke in a voice that sounded\ncross to Jan, \"that you are violating the City ordinances, and are\nkeeping the dogs that are brought to the pound. They are sent here to be\nkilled, not kept.\"\n\n\"I find homes for them all,\" the old man hastened to say, \"and it only\ntakes a short time to find people who will give them good homes. Not one\nof the dogs that has been brought here since I had charge has been\nvicious. Those that seemed dangerous at first grew gentle and kind as\nsoon as they found no one would hurt them.\"\n\n\"Of course, we know how you feel about them, but the City hires you to\nkill the dogs if their owners do not claim or want them. People complain\nthat you keep the dogs and feed them at the public expense. We can't\nhave that, you know.\"\n\nCaptain Smith rose, and the hand he held out suddenly toward the two men\nwas trembling. \"I don't know who told you that,\" he said earnestly, \"and\nI don't believe that whoever did say it meant to tell an untruth, but\nthe only dogs that are fed at public cost are those for which I am\nallowed money. After any dog has been with me for more than a week, I\npay for his food myself.\"\n\nThe two strange men looked at each other and were silent a few minutes.\nFinally one of them spoke again,\n\n\"I'm sorry, Smith, but you will have to get rid of the dogs. The pound\nis not a boarding place for stray dogs, and the fact that you pay for\ntheir feed after a certain time does not change matters.\"\n\nThe old man sat down in his chair as though he were very tired, and\nstared at the floor until he felt Jan's nose, and then he looked into\nthe dog's sympathetic eyes. The wrinkled hand twitched, but the old\nman's kindly face turned to the other man.\n\n\"I know you can't change the law,\" he said slowly, \"but if you could let\nme have a little more time, I can find homes for all the dogs that are\nhere now. There are only ten, beside Prince Jan, and he belongs to me.\nSee\"--he pushed aside the thick hair on the dog's neck--\"I bought a\ncollar and a license for him, and he has never eaten a mouthful of food\nexcept what I have paid for myself.\"\n\n\"Too many people have complained,\" was the reply. \"The dogs are noisy,\nand no one is allowed to have so many dogs inside the city limits. You\nknow it is against the law, Smith. That settles it.\"\n\nBoth men rose to their feet and looked at the old man, but at the door\nthey stopped and talked together in low voices. Then one of them turned\nand said, \"We don't want to be too hard on you, for we know you love\ndogs, so we will give you two days to find places for them. After that,\nthe dogs that are still here must be killed, or you will have to resign\nyour position as poundmaster.\"\n\nSmith watched them go down the pathway to the front gate, then with low\ndrooping head and slow steps he went back to the little room. Jan\npressed closely against him as the old man sank into his chair. Cheepsie\nflew from his cage and perched on the captain's shoulder, singing\nloudly, and Hippity-Hop, not to be left from the little family group,\nlimped across the room and rubbed, purring, against the old\npoundmaster's leg. They knew that he was troubled, and all of them tried\nto make him understand they were sorry for him and loved him.\n\n\"We've got to do something for those poor dogs,\" he said to Jan, at\nlast. \"Even if I do give up my job it won't help them, now. I can't find\nhomes for them all in such a short time, Jan. Nearly every one I know\nhere has a dog already, and some of them have two. Folks have been\nmighty good taking my dogs.\"\n\nCheepsie sang an answer, Hippity-Hop purred her reply, and Prince Jan's\ntail, thumping the floor, said very plainly that he agreed with his\nmaster. The captain smiled at them all, for he understood their\nlanguages. \"It's bound to work out right, somehow,\" he asserted\ncheerfully, and again his three dumb friends answered him.\n\nThe next morning Captain Smith left Jan and Hippity-Hop in the front\nyard. It was the first time the old man had ever carried his violin with\nhim, and he trudged briskly down the street, only stopping when he\nreached a corner to wave his hand back where Jan and the kitten stood\nwith noses pushed between the pickets of the fence. Jan was worried\nbecause it was the first time the captain had gone away from the house\nwithout him.\n\nSo, while Hippity-Hop climbed trees, chased butterflies, and washed her\nface and paws many times, the dog kept perfectly quiet, watching for his\nmaster's return. A big bark welcomed the captain home as Jan ran down\nthe street to meet him.\n\n\"Come along, Jan,\" the old man was smiling, and the dog trotted beside\nhim into the pound, where the other dogs pulled on their ropes and\ngreeted them noisily.\n\nThe poundmaster stopped in front of each dog and fastened a small metal\ntag to its collar, then he took them all into his own back yard, where\nthey crowded and leaped about him or chased each other in play. One dog\nwas so happy that he kept turning around and around after his own short\ntail until he was too dizzy to stand up.\n\n\"It's a pretty good-sized family, Jan,\" laughed the old man, as he sat\nin a chair on the back porch, smoking his pipe and watching the dogs'\nantics. \"They've all got licenses now, so no one can order any of 'em\nkilled for a year. I guess we can find homes for all of them before that\ntime is up.\"\n\nSo, when the two men came again, Captain Smith took them into the back\nyard and showed the license on each dog's collar, as he said, \"I have\nfound homes for five of them already, and to-morrow I'll take the others\nto a friend in the country. He will look out for them until we have good\nplaces for all.\"\n\nHe smiled happily at the dogs, then looked up at the two men, but his\nsmile faded at their next words.\n\n\"Well, what do you intend doing with the next bunch you collect?\"\n\n\"Why, I'll get homes for them, like these others.\"\n\n\"That won't do, Smith. Either you've got to take care of the work as\nyou are ordered, or else let some other man have your place. What are\nyou going to do about it?\"\n\nSmith's hand rumpled the fur on Jan's back. The eyes of the dog and the\nold man met, then the poundmaster lifted his head and said quietly, \"I\nwill give up the place. I thought when I took this work that it would\ngive me a chance to make some poor dumb brutes a little happier and more\ncomfortable, but I never intended to shoot one of them. Why, I couldn't\ndo that. They're all my friends!\"\n\n\"All right,\" was the answer. \"Suit yourself. We'll have another man take\ncharge to-morrow morning.\"\n\nWithout further words the men left, and the captain, followed by Jan,\nwent into the back yard where the ten dogs rushed to meet them. Barking,\nleaping, tumbling over each other, they struggled to get close to the\nold man who stood smiling and patting them, while he said softly, \"The\nbest friends a man ever had, Jan.\"\n\nPrince Jan looked at the bunch of dogs, little dogs, big dogs, curs, and\ndogs of high breeding. No matter where they had come from, they had\nfound a protector in the old poundmaster, but they did not know that he\nhad given up his position because he would not kill them. Even Jan did\nnot know what his master was writing that evening. It took some time to\nget the letter just right, then it was folded, placed in an envelope,\nsealed and stamped, and Jan walked with the captain to the letter-box\nseveral blocks away.\n\nWhen they were home again, the old man sat smoking his pipe and nodding,\nthen he got up and wound the clock, for it was Saturday night. As he put\nthe key on top of the clock, he said, \"Well, Jan, we'll have to hunt for\nanother job on Monday, but I don't think it will take long for us to\nfind something we can do.\"\n\nMonday morning people came for the dogs, and the captain patted each of\nhis four-footed friends, before it went to its new home. A man from a\nranch brought an automobile, and into this the five dogs which had not\nyet found permanent homes were lifted. Then the captain took out his\nworn pocketbook and counted money, which he handed to the rancher.\n\n\"Take good care of them for me,\" said the old man, \"and I'll pay for\ntheir food until we find homes for them all.\"\n\n\"All right, Smith,\" the man answered, and then he drove away with the\nyelping dogs.\n\nIt was very quiet in the house and back yard, but Hippity-Hop was glad\nof it. She had not enjoyed herself while there were so many dogs in the\nback of the house. After lunch was over, the captain dressed himself in\nhis best clothes, put on his hat, and with Jan at his side, went to many\nbig buildings where he talked earnestly with several men.\n\nThey were very kind to him, patted Jan, and promised they would let the\ncaptain know if they saw any work he could do. Jan saw that his old\nfriend seemed tired after they had been to several places, and when the\ndog thrust his nose into the captain's hand, the faded eyes would smile\nbravely, as the captain said, \"It's bound to work out right in the end,\nJan.\"\n\nDay after day, they made these trips, and at night Jan lay watching the\nface of his master, but the smile was not seen very often now. One\nevening the old man was more despondent than ever, so even Jan's wistful\nsympathy failed to rouse him, though the hand caressed the dog. Jan's\nheart ached, and unable to stand it longer, he pushed his head on the\ncaptain's knee and gave a low whimper.\n\nCaptain Smith leaned down and lifted the dog's head between his hands\nand looking into his puzzled eyes, he said slowly, \"We're up against it,\nJan. My money is gone, and there does not seem to be any work for me to\ndo. Every one is very kind, and all promise to send for me, but it is\njust because they are sorry. If I were younger, it would be easy to find\nplenty to do.\"\n\nJan licked the gnarled hand and tried to show that he wished he could\nhelp, but the only thing he could do was to show the love and sympathy\nthat filled his loyal heart. That night when the light was out and\neverything was quiet, Jan lay wide awake trying to puzzle out what it\nall meant, and then he heard a faint sigh and knew that the captain, on\nhis cot, was awake, too. So the dog rose softly and moved to the side of\nthe narrow bed, where he stretched himself on the floor. Presently he\nfelt a hand touch his head and he turned quickly to caress it with his\ntongue. Then he heard the old man say, \"It's bound to work out right\nsome way, Jan!\"\n\nThe next morning the captain was more cheerful, and when the postman\ncame along the street, the old man called out, \"It's a beautiful day,\nisn't it?\"\n\nThe postman nodded, then said, \"I have a registered letter for you,\nCaptain.\"\n\nWith surprised eyes and quick steps, the old man reached the gate and\nsigned the card. He turned the letter over, stared at it, then smiled\nand cried out, \"It's from my daughter!\"\n\nA happy smile illumined his face and his fingers were unsteady as he\ntore open the envelope, saying, \"She and her husband went to Alaska two\nyears ago. I haven't heard anything from them for six months. You see,\nwhen winter begins up there, the river freezes solid, so no boats or\nmail can reach them.\"\n\n\"Well, the postmen up there have an easy time once in a while,\" replied\nthe letter-carrier as he slung the heavy pouch over his shoulder and\nwent on his way.\n\nThe old man sat on the step of the porch and read the letter, which was\na long one. Jan knew his master was glad over something, and yet, when\nthe letter was finished, there were tears rolling down the captain's\ncheeks. Jan edged tightly against him.\n\n\"They're all well,\" said the old man, \"and they want us to come and\nlive with them. Look, Jan!\" He held out a piece of paper which the dog\nsniffed at. \"That is to pay our way, and we're going to start just as\nsoon as we can pack up. You see, it worked out right in the end!\"\n\nBusy hours followed for them all. The captain hurried about the little\nhouse, packing things into boxes, and taking down pictures, which he put\ninto a trunk. One picture he held for some minutes, \"That was Jenny when\nshe was a little girl, just able to walk, Jan.\" Then he wrapped it very\ncarefully in a faded blue knitted scarf and placed it in the trunk with\nthe other things. Hippity-Hop scurried about the room, and Cheepsie had\na hard time clinging to the old man's shoulder, for he moved so swiftly\nand kept leaning over the trunk.\n\nIt was three o'clock in the afternoon when the trunk was shut and locked\nand an old carpet-bag stood beside it. The captain's hat was on his\nhead, Cheepsie chirped in his cage that was wrapped tightly with paper,\nand Hippity-Hop mewed forlornly from a basket, while Jan moved nervously\nbetween the bundles and his master, wondering what it all meant. Then a\nman drove to the door and carried the trunk and valise to his wagon,\nleaving the captain to pick up the bird-cage and the hamper that held\nthe kitten.\n\n\"Come along, Jan,\" he called cheerfully, and the dog rushed ahead,\nturning back to frisk in circles or leap up in front of his friends. Jan\nwas much happier than Hippity-Hop, who was yowling loudly as she stuck\none paw through a hole in the basket, and Cheepsie's twitters sounded\nreally cross.\n\nJan, once again, was put in a baggage car and after a ride of several\nhours, the captain got him out and led him to a wharf. Jan remembered\nhis trip in the boat when he came to the Land of No Snow. He hesitated\nto go up the plank walk, but the captain smiled and said, \"It's all\nright, Jan. Come along!\" and then the dog trotted fearlessly along the\nboards that led to the deck of the big boat. Everything was confusion,\nbut Jan did not worry when his master led him down into the lower part\nof the boat, under the deck. After tying Jan, the old man gave him a\nfinal pat and said, \"I'll be back soon, Jan\"; and the dog, knowing\neverything was all right, stretched on his side and closed his eyes. He\nwas tired from the trip, the excitement of packing, and from those days\nof worry before the letter came that made the captain happy again. So he\nwas very glad to have nothing to do, nothing to think about.\n\nThen the boat trembled and puffed, and Prince Jan knew that he and\nHippity-Hop and Cheepsie and their loved master were going somewhere\ntogether, and he was satisfied.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIII\n\nTHE VOICES OF THE HOSPICE DOGS\n\n\nPrince Jan could not tell how many days and nights passed while the boat\nthrobbed on its way. He grew accustomed to the motion and as the captain\ncame often each day to see him and talk to him, and many other people\nalso visited him, Jan found life very pleasant.\n\nAmong his visitors was a pretty young woman with big brown eyes and a\ngentle voice. Nearly always a little child was in her arms, or held by\nthe hand, for it was just beginning to walk. Captain Smith and these two\nseemed to be great friends. Many times he carried the baby in his arms\nand it laughed up in his face when he held it down to pat Jan's head.\nThe dog watched for them every day, and he was never disappointed. Once,\nthe captain brought Hippity-Hop to see Jan, and the kitten purred loudly\nand rubbed against the dog's legs, while Jan poked her gently with his\nnose. The old man chuckled, \"You haven't forgotten each other, have\nyou?\" Then he picked up the kitten and carried it away.\n\nThat night, without warning, everything seemed to change, somehow. The\nboat leaped and jumped as though it were frightened at the big waves\nthat washed against and over it. The night was dark, and down in the\nhold of the vessel it was still darker. Jan listened to men running\noverhead, voices called loudly and then came a sudden crash. The boat\nquivered as though it were hurt.\n\nJan was thrown so heavily against the side of the boat that he lay\ngasping for breath, then he dragged himself to his feet. Swaying with\nthe jerky motion, but managing to brace himself, he peered through the\ninky darkness toward the steps leading to the deck. Again he heard the\nhurried feet, the loud voices of men, and this time there were cries of\nwomen and children, too.\n\nHe knew something was not right, and as he pulled with all his strength\non the rope that held him, and strained his eyes toward the stairway, he\nheard a sound that made him give a loud bark of joy.\n\n\"All right, Jan!\" his master was calling through the darkness, \"I'm\ncoming!\"\n\nThe dog whimpered and licked the hands that fumbled at the rope which\nwas tied to the side of the boat. With a leap and yelp of joy, Jan\nscrambled up the stairs ahead of his master, and both of them reached\nthe deck.\n\nIt was very early in the morning and the sky was heavy with dark clouds.\nThe wind screamed and big waves tossed so high that at times the boat\nappeared to be down in the bottom of a great hole. Although the vessel\njerked, groaned, creaked and crunched, it did not move forward. When the\nwater washed back a few minutes, Jan saw jagged rocks poking up and felt\nthe boat pounding on them. He could not understand it at all, and as he\nlooked up with puzzled eyes at his master, he saw the old man was\nstaring straight ahead at a strip of land not very far away, where a lot\nof people were running about in a great hurry.\n\nOne of the boat crew ran past Jan, carrying a rope. Other men were\nfastening queer looking rings about the bodies of women and children,\nwhile still more men were lowering a little boat into the water. But as\nsoon as it touched the waves, it was turned on end and smashed like an\negg-shell against the side of the ship. Jan, standing with his legs\nbraced firmly, saw the frightened women and children huddled together.\nMost of them were very quiet, but some were crying. A few were kneeling\non the wet deck, and though their eyes were shut, Jan knew they were not\nasleep, for their lips were moving as if they were talking to some one\nwhom he could not see.\n\nThe shore did not seem very far away, and Jan saw men pushing a little\nboat into the water. They leaped into it quickly and grabbed up oars.\n\n\"Thank God!\" said the old poundmaster to a man who stood beside him and\nJan. \"The Life Guards will save the women and children!\"\n\n\"There is no Life Saving Station here,\" Jan heard a woman's voice reply.\nHe looked up and saw the pretty lady beside his old master. Her face was\nvery white and she held her baby tightly in her arms, while she stared\nat the place where the tiny boat was being shoved into the sea by men\nwho stood waist-deep in the rushing water. Then the boat shot high on a\nwave and started toward the ship. Those on the shore joined in the\ncheers that sounded on the stranded ship; but even as they cheered, a\nbigger wave snatched at the boat and overturned it, dumping all the men\ninto the sea. The little boat was dashed on the beach, but those who had\nbeen rowing it bobbed about in the water until helped to land.\n\nA group of men, who had been talking with a man wearing a cap trimmed\nwith gold braid, now carried a rope to the side of the ship and tossed\nit swiftly toward land. Men on the shore were trying to launch another\nboat, and every one on the ship leaned forward watching them. The waves\ncarried the rope some distance forward, and then tossed it back against\nthe ship's side as though playing with it, just as a cat plays with a\nmouse. Tangled and twisted, the rope rose on the crest of a high wave,\nthen dropped from sight, only to bob up once more, and all the time\ndrifting further from land.\n\n\"The vessel will be driftwood in half an hour more! She is breaking\namidships!\" the man beside Jan was speaking again to the poundmaster.\n\"No boat can live in such a sea and no man can swim it.\"\n\nCaptain Smith looked down at Jan. \"It doesn't count so much with us,\nJan,\" he said, \"but it's the women and children. Maybe you can help\nthem. Come!\"\n\nThe dog started at the sound of command and followed his master across\nthe water-washed deck to the group of ship's officers who were gathered\naround the captain of the boat. All were talking earnestly when old\nCaptain Smith and Jan pushed between them.\n\n\"Maybe Jan can take the rope to shore,\" said the poundmaster, while his\nhand rested on Jan's wet fur. \"He's a splendid swimmer and isn't afraid\nof the water.\"\n\nThe man with the gold-trimmed cap looked down at the dog whose\nintelligent eyes turned from face to face as though doing his best to\nfind out why they were all looking at him, and what they wanted.\n\n\"It is too much to expect of a dog,\" said the man, shaking his head.\n\"Even if he were strong enough, he could not understand.\"\n\n\"Jan understands everything I tell him,\" insisted the old man, \"and it\nwouldn't be any harm to try him. When he once knows what we want him to\ndo, he will do it or die in trying.\"\n\nJust then the boat lurched badly and the people slipped and slid on the\nslanting, wet deck, but Jan did not move. His firm muscles stiffened,\nhe braced himself steadily and his strong back straightened. The group\nof officers began talking again and Jan heard them say something about\nhis strength to Captain Smith. A heavier wave lifted the ship from the\nrocks then dropped her back on the jagged edges that were stabbing her\nto the heart, while she writhed and groaned like a living thing in agony\nbegging for help.\n\nThe ship's captain turned his eyes on the group of women and children,\nthen to the shore, as though he were measuring the distance across the\nraging water that boomed between the boat and land. Slowly he turned\nback to the old man and the dog.\n\n\"He may be able to do it, if you can make him understand,\" he said at\nlast. Then he added in a low voice, \"It is our only hope!\"\n\nJan saw these men all were looking at him and then the ship's captain\nspoke.\n\n\"If the dog can reach shore with the light rope so we can attach the\nheavier one, we can rig up a breeches-buoy with the boatswain's chair,\nand the women and children could ride safely, for we could lash them to\nit.\"\n\nCaptain Smith leaned down and took Jan's head between trembling hands.\nThe dog and he looked into each other's eyes, and those who watched the\ntwo, felt a little thrill of hope. The animal seemed struggling to grasp\nthe meaning of the old man's words. A bit of rope was in the captain's\nhand, he held it to Jan, who sniffed, then looked back at his master.\n\nStill holding the piece of rope, Captain Smith led the dog to the side\nof the boat and pointed at the tangled coils that washed on the surface\nof the waves a short distance away.\n\n\"Go get it, Jan!\" called the old man sharply.\n\nThe people on the deck crowded more closely, and the dog braced himself\nto spring, but just then a huge wave rose high over the vessel, the\nwhite-crested tip hissing like an angry snake, and Jan looked down,\ndown, down into a dark hole and below it gleamed the jagged peaks of the\nreef, like threatening teeth of a hidden monster. He knew the danger.\nDrawing back he turned pleading eyes on his master.\n\n\"Go, Jan,\" said the voice he loved, but this time it did not command, it\nbegged.\n\nThe big wave slipped back, others rose behind it, each one tipped with\nwhite foam, and between those waves were deep, dark hollows. Jan looked\nat them, and as he looked, something changed those white-capped things\ninto snowy peaks of the mountains around the Hospice, while the dark\nplaces between were changed to chasms and crevasses, where Barry, Pluto,\nPallas, Rex and all the dogs of the Hospice had travelled year after\nyear for ten centuries past. He heard their voices calling him. Jan's\nears cocked up, his body quivered, his muscles stiffened, his nose\npointed high in the air and the cry he sent back to the calls of his kin\nwas clear and strong like the music of a wonderful, deep-toned bell.\nThen he braced himself and leaped far out into the water that caught him\nlike many strong arms and dragged him under the waves.\n\nWith all his great strength Jan fought his way to the surface and as he\nrose, something struck against him. He turned quickly to see what new\ndanger threatened, and then he saw the rope and remembered what he had\nbeen told.\n\n\"Go get it, Jan!\" his master had said.\n\n[Illustration: _\"Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of\nthe Hospice dogs--'The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!'\"_]\n\nThe dog caught the squirming rope between his teeth, and as he did so,\nhe heard distinctly the cheers of those on the stranded ship echoed by\nthose on the shore before he was pulled down beneath the waves again;\nbut he clung to the rope. When he reached the surface, Jan saw his\nmaster leaning far over the edge of the deck, pointing toward the land.\n\nThen he understood, and without a moment's hesitation he flung his body\naway from the direction of the boat and faced the shore, while the rope\ntrailed behind him, often dragging him back with terrific jerks. The\nforce of the waves tossed him high on dizzy crests, then he was dropped\nswiftly into depths of seething water. His breath came in painful gasps\nbetween his tightly clinched teeth, the water rang in his ears and he\nwas half-blinded by the stinging salt spray that cut like a sharp knife\nacross his eyes.\n\nIn spite of his struggles he seemed no nearer the land. Back of him he\ncould see the swaying masts of the boat, and at times the whole length\nof the deck with people crowded together. Jan, dazed and almost\nexhausted, turned to swim back to his master and safety. His paws beat\nthe waves more feebly, but his teeth still held the rope. Down, down,\ndown he sank, and over his head rolled the white-crested mountains of\nwater. Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of the Hospice\ndogs. The voices of Barry Bruno, Rex and Jan's mother sounded clearly.\nOther dogs joined in the chorus until Jan knew that he heard the voices\nof all the dogs that had ever lived in the Hospice. Hundreds and\nhundreds of deep notes, like the bells of the Hospice sending a message\nto him. \"The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!\"\n\nHe fought with new strength, and as his head rose above the waves, the\nrope still dragging along, he heard cheers that grew nearer and louder,\nbut this time the voices came from the land. A breaker curled high,\ndashed furiously over him and then it carried him with a rush to the\nbeach and flung him, gasping and exhausted, high on the sand, but the\nend of the rope was clutched tightly between his teeth. He held it, even\nwhen men tried to take it from him, but the hands were kindly and as his\njaws relaxed he was lifted gently and carried where the cruel waves\ncould not touch him again.\n\nJan was too tired to open his eyes when some one knelt beside him and\nstroked his wet hair, and a man's voice said huskily, \"You wonderful,\nbrave fellow!\"\n\nCheers sounded loud and long, and at last Jan opened his eyes and lifted\nhis head wearily for a second. Before it dropped again to the sand, he\nsaw men on the shore working with another, heavier rope, and some one\ncalled out, \"Thank God! They got it that time!\"\n\nJan staggered to his feet and with wobbling legs moved a few steps\nforward. Then he forgot his weariness and aching muscles and stood\nwatching something strange, something that made women near him cry, and\nthe men cheer wildly.\n\nA rope reached from the shore to the stranded ship, and something was\nmoving slowly along that rope toward the land. Jan's feet were in the\nsurf, but he did not know it as he, too, watched and saw a chair, and in\nthat chair was a woman.\n\nShe was seized by eager hands and lifted down among them, laughing and\ncrying and saying, \"Oh, quick! Save the others!\"\n\nAgain and again the chair travelled over the waves that leaped up to\nclutch it, but the rope was firm. And once when a woman was carried in\nthe chair, a man on the shore gave a big cry of joy as he clasped her in\nhis arms. Jan recognized the pretty lady, but she did not have her baby\nin her arms this time. Then every one was silent, only a woman's sob\nsounded softly, and the pretty lady stood staring across the water,\nwhere high above the waves swung a big leather mailbag. It came nearer\nand nearer, and men went far out into the surf to steady it, until it\nwas unfastened, lifted down, opened, and the pretty lady, crying and\nlaughing, held her baby in her arms, and the child laughed back at them\nall.\n\nMen cheered and cheered, and from the ship came answering cheers, while\nthe mother and father of the child knelt down beside the dog, saying,\n\"You saved her, Prince Jan!\"\n\nThe dog watched vainly for his master. Trip after trip brought men and\nwomen to the land, and each one was welcomed wildly. Then Jan, still\nwatching, gave a great \"Woof!\" and rushed out into the water. The chair\nwas approaching the shore, and in the chair was Jan's master. A basket\nwas held in the old man's lap and on it was fastened a bird cage with a\nbadly frightened canary. Through a break in the basket waved\nHippity-Hop's furry paw. Those on the shore scattered as Prince Jan\nraced among them uttering hysterical yelps until his master stood safely\nbeside him and leaned down catching the dog's long, soft ears and\npulling them gently, while he said over and over, \"Jan, Prince Jan! I\nknew you would do it!\"\n\nAnd so, ninety-one people were brought safely to shore in the\nboatswain's chair with the rope that Prince Jan had carried, and the\nbaby that had ridden in the mail sack was kissed and hugged by all those\nwho could get near her.\n\nThen Prince Jan followed the captain, the pretty lady, and the man who\nwalked beside her with the baby perched high on his shoulder, and who\nhad his other arm around the waist of the baby's mother. A tiny paw\nreached out of the hamper Captain Smith was carrying, and the dog felt\nthe tap of Hippity-Hop's paw on his ear. He turned at the touch and put\nhis nose to the basket, and then he saw Cheepsie, fluttering in the cage\nthat was gripped by the old captain's other hand.\n\nThe little party reached the top of a bluff and turned around to look\nacross the rough waves. The deserted ship reeled sideways. Water rose\nand hid it an instant. When next they looked, there was nothing but the\nsky with threatening clouds and the wind-lashed sea.\n\nNo one spoke as they went up the pathway of a little house where the\npretty lady lived. The door was opened, they entered, and then the\npretty lady knelt suddenly beside Jan and kissed his head.\n\n\"God bless you, Prince Jan!\" she whispered.\n\nAnd though the dog did not understand it, he was very happy because he\nknew they were all glad.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XIV\n\nA FIRESIDE STORY\n\n\nThat evening, after supper, while Jan dozed in front of the fireplace\nwith its cheerful, glowing logs, and Hippity-Hop curled in a tight ball\nbetween his paws, he did not know that the captain was telling how Jan\nhad been brought to the pound, sick from neglect and vicious from abuse,\nto be killed.\n\nThe eyes of the young mother filled with tears, and she glanced from the\nsleeping dog to a door leading into another room, where her baby was\nlying, safe and warm. But when she stooped, suddenly and stroked the\ndog's head gently, his eyes opened, his tail thumped the floor, and then\nJan went to sleep again, for he was very tired.\n\nAnd while he took his second nap, the father of the baby explained to\nthe captain that he was the doctor in the little town, and had it not\nbeen for Prince Jan, the pretty little mother and her child would never\nhave come back to the home on the bluff, after their visit to friends\nin California.\n\n\"Prince Jan was born in the Hospice,\" the old man told them. \"He was\nonly a puppy when Mr. Pixley brought him to California. To me, it never\nseemed just right, taking him away from the place where he belonged and\nwhere he could have been so useful, and then to treat him so cruelly. Of\ncourse, the Pixleys didn't know the truth, but that didn't help poor\nJan.\"\n\nThe doctor turned and knelt down, studying the sleeping dog, then he\nrose and went back to his chair.\n\n\"I took a walking tour of Switzerland after I finished my studies in\nEurope,\" he said, at last. \"So that was how I happened to be at the\nHospice the day that dog was taken away. I had heard one of the monks\ntell about this dog's father, who died saving travellers on an\nice-bridge. I went on my way toward Italy, and I saw this dog start down\nthe trail to Martigny, the opposite direction. I have never forgotten\nthe pitiful look in his eyes nor the call he gave as he was led away. I\nfelt then that it was a tragedy, but never had an idea of what the poor\nlittle fellow would have to suffer. Nor had I any idea that the lives\nof my dear ones would be saved through him!\"\n\n\"The only thing I ever knew about the St. Bernard dogs was that they\nlived at the Hospice and went out to hunt lost people in the snow,\" the\ncaptain spoke. \"You are the first one I ever knew who had been there. I\nwish I could have seen it and those splendid dogs!\"\n\n\"You know, the Pass of Great St. Bernard is the main road of travel\nbetween Italy and Switzerland,\" the doctor went on, and his wife leaned\nforward as eagerly as Jan's master to hear about Jan's birthplace. \"It\nwas through this Pass that Napoleon Bonaparte led his army of soldiers,\nsingle file and afoot, in the month of May, 1800!\"\n\n\"I have read about that march,\" interrupted the old man, \"and I know\nwhat it meant, with food and ammunition and those big guns to haul. You\nsee, I served all through the four years of the Civil War.\"\n\n\"May is the most dangerous time in the Alps, for the snow melts and\nslides in great avalanches, often catching people with no chance for\nescape. When I stood on the stone steps of the Hospice, where many feet\nhave worn little hollows, and I remembered how many people would never\nhave reached those steps without the dogs' help, I felt that though\nNapoleon was a great general and a brave man, the dogs of the Hospice\nwere just as great and just as brave. And the monument to Barry, near\nthe old Hospice, was as fine in my eyes as the beautiful white marble\none that Napoleon built in memory of General de Sais, who died on that\ntrip, and which is in the chapel of the Hospice. Both the general and\nBarry did their duty, as they saw it.\"\n\nThe little mother interrupted him, her eyes shining and her hands held\nout. \"Napoleon made that march for his own glory and ambition, and to\nkill those who opposed his way,\" she said, \"but Barry and the other dogs\nrisked death each day to save lives, with no thought of gain for\nthemselves.\"\n\n\"That's what I was thinking,\" the old captain nodded and spoke.\n\n\"What surprised me most,\" continued the doctor, \"was that the monks who\nlive in the Hospice do not ask pay for anything they do. The people who\nstop there do not even have to pay for the food that is eaten. When I\nasked how much I owed for shelter and food those two days I was there,\nthey smiled and told me there was no charge. Of course, I could not\nleave in that way, and when I insisted, I learned there was a little box\nin the Monastery Chapel for purely volunteer offerings. No one ever\nwatches that box, and no one is ever asked to put anything into it. And\nyet,\" he finished after a little pause, \"often as many as five or six\nhundred people have stopped at the Hospice in one day. I was told that\nbetween twenty and twenty-five thousand people pass over the trail each\nyear. Then when one remembers that for a thousand years the ancestors of\nPrince Jan have been travelling those trails and saving lives, one can\nunderstand the splendid work of those monks and the dogs.\"\n\n\"And to-day,\" the little mother's voice trembled, \"dear old Prince Jan\nproved himself worthy of his ancestors and his heritage.\"\n\n\"Barry saved forty-two lives. His skin has been mounted and stands,\nwonderfully life-like, in the Museum of Berne,\" the doctor said,\nthoughtfully. \"He did the work in the familiar places, the work he had\nbeen trained to do; but to-day, there were ninety-two lives saved by\nPrince Jan, with only his wonderful intelligence to guide him through\nthe sea and make him hold fast to that rope.\"\n\nFor several moments none of them spoke, but their eyes were on the dog\nthat slept quietly at their feet, while the little three-legged kitten\nsnuggled closely against his breast and purred loudly.\n\n\"One of the most pitiful sights at the Hospice is the House of the Dead,\na short distance from the Hospice. Those who have never been identified\nsleep there. Sometimes, you see, the dogs and monks are too late, or the\navalanches of melting snow uncover people who have been buried months,\nor even years. The Hospice is built on solid rock, so there is no place\nto dig graves. Not a tree grows within seven miles of the buildings,\nbecause it is so cold, and there is no earth for the roots. It is a\nbare, desolate place at all times.\"\n\n\"Jan must have been bewildered, going from such a place to a home in\nCalifornia,\" the little mother spoke. \"And yet, see how he worked out\nhis life and made himself worthy!\"\n\nThe doctor lighted a cigar and leaned back in his big chair. \"The snow\nat the Hospice is not like snow in other places,\" he finally said. \"You\nknow how, usually, it clings in masses, and when trodden upon it packs\nfirmly; but in the Alps during a storm, the snow freezes as it falls and\nforms into little hard pellets. These tiny lumps of ice pile up around a\ntraveller, and when he tries to push onward he sinks as though in a bed\nof quicksand. Unless help is at hand he soon is buried out of sight. The\nwinds sweep fiercely through the passes between the mountain peaks, and\nsend terrible, whirling clouds of snow that cut the face and blind the\neyes, and many times a wanderer plunges over a precipice that he cannot\nsee, or worn by struggles, he sinks exhausted to die. Then, there are\nthe ice-bridges. What I am telling will give only a faint idea of the\nimportance of the work of those magnificent dogs of the Hospice. And\nthere is something that is not generally known, but is just as heroic.\nThe monks who go to the Hospice volunteer for that work, knowing fully\nthat five years up there in the altitude and intense cold mean\npractically the end of their lives. It ruins their lungs, and so, after\na time, they go quietly down into the milder air of the Valley of the\nRhone, in France, and there they wait cheerfully during the short span\nof life ahead of them. Only the young and strong monks are sent to the\nHospice.\"\n\nAfter the doctor ceased speaking they all sat silently and watched the\nblazing logs, for each of the listeners, as well as the doctor, was\nthinking of the sacrifice and unselfishness of those monks, and the\nbrave loyalty of their dog-friends on the trail.\n\n\"I wish I had enough money to send Prince Jan back to his own work and\nhome,\" the captain said wistfully. \"Maybe, though, I can manage it some\nday,\" he added more hopefully. \"I feel as if he ought to be there with\nthe others.\"\n\n\"You are right,\" agreed the doctor, and his wife nodded her head\nquickly. \"Jan's work, his kin, his home, lie back there at the Hospice.\nI owe the lives of my wife and my baby to him, and if you are willing to\nlet him go back there, I will take him back to the Hospice myself. But,\nwon't you miss him?\"\n\n\"It would make me as happy as it would make him, to know he was back\nthere again,\" answered the old man eagerly, as he stooped over and\ncaressed the dog's head.\n\nJan, in his sleep, recognized the touch and swished his tail lightly,\nbut he did not open his eyes, and he never knew what the doctor and the\ncaptain had been talking about that evening.\n\nBut when it was known in the little town that the doctor was planning to\ntake Prince Jan back to the Hospice, and those who had been saved from\nthe ship heard the story of the dog, every one wanted to help. The\nnewspaper printed the story of Prince Jan and his ancestors, and then\npeople kept coming to see him, and most of them brought money for the\ntrip back to the Hospice.\n\nA beautiful collar of silver was made for him, and on it were engraved\nthe words,\n\n    A TOKEN OF GRATITUDE FROM THE NINETY-TWO PEOPLE WHOSE LIVES WERE\n    SAVED BY PRINCE JAN, WHEN ALL HOPE WAS LOST.\n\nWith this collar was a purse of money sufficient to pay Jan's passage\nhome, and a nice sum left over to give to the monks who cared for the\ndogs at the Hospice.\n\nBut the biggest surprise of all came when Captain Smith found that he,\ntoo, was to make the trip to the Hospice with the doctor and Prince Jan.\n\nThe old man wrote a letter to his daughter, explaining everything and\nsaying he would come to her as soon as he and the doctor could get\nback.\n\nJan did not know what all the excitement in the little home meant, but\nevery one patted him or spoke kindly, and the old captain's eyes were\nshining all the time, as he trotted about the rooms, whistling.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XV\n\nAN UNFORGOTTEN TRAIL\n\n\nOnce again Jan went on a big boat, but he did not worry this time,\nbecause his friends were with him. Hippity-Hop and Cheepsie had been\nleft with the doctor's wife until the captain should return for them.\n\nThe voyage was followed by travelling in a train, and each day of the\nwhole journey the doctor and captain visited Jan. When he was on the\ntrain, his friends took him out of the car a number of times, so he\ncould stretch his legs and run about on the ground while the train\nwaited at a station. It did not take Jan long to understand that if he\ndid not get back in the car he would be left behind. So he watched very\ncarefully and at the first call of the captain or the doctor, he ran\nswiftly to the right car and jumped in it. Passengers on the long train\nwatched him do this, for he never mistook his own car though there were\nseveral others just like the one in which he rode.\n\nJan wore his silver collar, and wherever he went men and women would\nlook at it, then pat his big head and praise him. He was very happy\nthough he did not know where he and his friends were going.\n\nFrom the train they stopped at a little town, and early the next morning\nJan followed the doctor and the captain to a place where a funny little\ncart waited them. A sleepy-looking mule was hitched to the cart, and a\ndriver stood at the mule's head. After some talk between the driver and\nthe doctor, the old captain climbed into the cart and the doctor trudged\nbeside it, while the muleteer, as the drivers of these little carts are\ncalled, kept near the mule's head. At first Jan followed behind them\nall, but in a short time he found that the road they were trudging\nbecame more steep. Then he trotted ahead and led the way, but looked\nback often to see that every one was all right.\n\nThe town where they had spent the night was perched on a high bluff\noverlooking a noisy, scurrying little river that seemed in a great hurry\nto get some place else. The road Jan now travelled climbed higher and\nhigher, but as he stopped and looked down he could see the river\ngurgling and hurrying along. It was a queer little stream, and the\nmuleteer called it the Dranse. In places Jan could not see it at all,\nand then when he thought it had gone in another direction, it popped\nout, foaming and spluttering as though it thought Jan had been fooled.\nSometimes it appeared to be running backward, and then suddenly it\nseemed to be racing forward, and always it kept playing its game of\nhide-and-seek with them all, and laughing and dancing like a merry elf\nor water-sprite. The river kept all of them interested until they\nstopped at a little village, which the muleteer said was Cantine de\nProz.\n\nHere they walked about, while the mule was unhitched and the little\nwagon was left behind. The captain now climbed on the back of the mule,\nand the doctor and muleteer walked on either side of him. The road had\nchanged to a narrow, slippery pathway, one side of which dropped down to\na deep chasm with a fringe of snow showing here and there.\n\nIn front of them loomed mountains, and as the path twisted sharply, Jan\nstopped short and stared ahead. Far away rose a huge white mountain, and\naround it grouped peaks of dazzling snow, the first snow Jan had seen\nsince he was a puppy.\n\nThe doctor and the old man were watching him, but Jan did not see them.\nHe was remembering things he had almost forgotten. Slowly the mule\nclimbed, and the twisting trail turned and wound higher and higher. Jan\nlifted his head and sniffed the air that was growing colder. Then as\nthey turned where the path seemed to end, the dog gave a loud bark and\ndashed ahead of them where something white lay on the ground. Faster and\nfaster his feet flew until he stood in this white patch. His nose\ntouched it and tossed it in little white clouds, he threw himself down\nand rolled over and over, then jumped to his feet and barked in sharp,\nexcited tones. Again he snapped at it, and then he raced along the\ntrail, frisking like a puppy, while the doctor and the captain kept\nsmiling at each other and nodding their heads.\n\nBut not until a tiny cabin was reached, where they all went inside to\nrest a short time, did Prince Jan recognize the little Rest House and\nknew that the white trail winding up the mountain side would end at the\ndoor of the Hospice.\n\nSo, when the old man was perched again on the mule and the travellers\nstarted toward the high white peak, Jan did not wait longer, but raced\nahead of them, barking as he ran. Up, up, faster and faster, he ran. His\nheart pounded, his tongue hung far out of his mouth, he plunged his nose\ninto the soft, cold drifts, sometimes stopping to take a big bite, then\nwith yelps of joy he darted on.\n\nAnd high above the steep trail rose the sharp peaks that shadowed the\nhundreds of deep gullies: places where the snow never melted, even in\nsummer. And Prince Jan knew that he was following once more the path\nthat his forefathers had trodden.\n\nHe stopped quickly and lifted his nose high, then he sent forth the\ngreat cry of the St. Bernard dogs. The deep tones echoed from crag to\ncrag, until it sounded as if all the dogs that had ever trodden that\ntrail were answering him.\n\nAnother twist of the pathway showed the jagged tips of the highest\npeaks, and just back of that crest rose the roof of the Hospice. Jan\nstood still for a second before he sent again that call of his people.\nAgain he heard the voices answering, but this time the answer came from\nthe dogs in the kennel-yards.\n\nJan trembled with excitement, then he shot forward and did not stop\nuntil he had reached the worn stone steps that he remembered so well.\nThe door was closed, but some instinct made him raise his head and give\nthe cry of the trail.\n\nSlowly the big door swung open and Brother Antoine stood looking with\npuzzled eyes at a St. Bernard dog that he did not know. But Jan had not\nforgotten. He reared on his hind legs and let his front paws drop\nlightly on the shoulders of the monk. Their eyes were level, and as the\ndog looked at the monk, Brother Antoine called out, \"Why! It is\nJan--Prince Jan--come back to us!\"\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" Jan's voice brought other monks hastily to the door, where\nBrother Antoine stood patting the big, strange dog that stood with\nbright shining eyes, looking from one to the other, while his fluffy\ntail bobbed and wagged furiously.\n\nAs they stood talking and wondering how he came there, the doctor and\nthe captain, with the muleteer, came in sight. So the mystery was fully\nunderstood.\n\nInside the Hospice, the monks gathered around to listen to the story of\nthe adventures of Prince Jan since that time when he had been led down\nthe trail to a Land of No Snow. His silver collar was examined and\nadmired, and Jan knew they were all glad that he had come back home.\n\nIt was Brother Antoine, though, who said, \"Come with me, Prince Jan.\"\n\nThe big dog followed at once. Through the corridors of the Hospice, down\na few steps, he went swiftly to the basement, under high archways, and\nthrough the open entrance that led into the kennel yard. And then, Jan\nstood once more in the home of his ancestors, and saw again his own kin.\n\nPanting with excitement, he ran among them all and looked eagerly\naround. Many of the dogs were strangers to him, but when he saw old\nBruno limping slowly across to where he stood, Jan's yelp made the other\ndogs start, and as he reached Bruno's side and showed that he had not\nforgotten, Bruno's joy was just as plain. Two tawny streaks flashed up\nto Jan, sniffed, and then yelped and yelped in wildest excitement; and\nthis time Jan's voice mingled with his mother's and Rollo's, while the\nother dogs joined until the white mountains sent back the call of the\nHospice dogs.\n\nBrother Antoine, smiling happily, patted Jan and left him with the other\ndogs. But later in the day he returned and bade Jan follow. They went\ninto the Big Room where the captain and the doctor were talking with\nseveral travellers and two more monks. They watched the dog move to the\nside of the old man; then Brother Antoine unfastened the silver collar\nfrom Jan's neck and hung it over the fireplace beside the big painting\nof the St. Bernard dog rescuing a man from the snow.\n\n\"It shall hang there so that all who come to the Hospice may see it and\nhear the story of Prince Jan,\" said Brother Antoine.\n\nEvery one praised Jan, and he then went back to the kennel, where he was\nquickly surrounded by the other dogs. It was a great day for the St.\nBernards, and they were very proud of Jan when he told them the story of\nhis adventures in the strange land where there was never any snow.\n\n\n\n\nChapter XVI\n\nPRINCE JAN DECIDES\n\n\nJan slept soundly that night, and when he woke just before the first\npeep of day, and saw the other dogs stretched around him, he remembered\nthat he was back home once more with his mother, Rollo, Bruno, and the\nrest of the Hospice dogs, and that now he would have a chance to do the\nwork of his forefathers.\n\nThe soft, deep tones of the Hospice bell called them all to waken for a\nnew day and its work. The voices of the monks singing in the chapel\nceased, and at once all the dogs turned expectant eyes toward the\ncorridor, where Brother Antoine appeared with food for their breakfast.\n\nThey leaped around the monk, or mauled each other in play, while the hot\nfood was poured into a small trough, and soon Prince Jan was eating his\nshare with the rest of them. They all made way for him, and there was no\ncrowding, growling, or fighting over their morning meal.\n\nWhen it was over the door leading into the yard was opened and the dogs\ntumbled out, barking, jumping, knocking each other over, or scampering\nfull tilt in merry play. Rollo and his brother forgot they were grown-up\nand frisked together as they had done in the days before Prince Jan had\nbeen taken to the Land of No Snow.\n\nOnce more Brother Antoine stood on the steps watching them, and at last\nhe called Jan, who trotted obediently to him, and followed through the\narched corridors and the long hallway until they reached the three doors\nthat opened, one after the other, to the outside steps.\n\nJan saw the doctor and the captain already there. The old man was\nmounted on the mule, Ketty, while Pierrot, the driver, waited beside it.\nThe doctor held a long, stout stick.\n\nWith a bark of welcome, the dog hurried to them and stood up on his hind\nlegs so he could lick the hand of the captain and feel its gentle touch\non his head.\n\nBrother Antoine paused at the top step and watched, but he did not speak\nas Pierrot called aloud and the mule started briskly down the trail\nleading to Martigny. The doctor walked beside the mule, and then Jan\nunderstood that they were leaving the Hospice.\n\nHe stopped and gazed back wistfully. The monk on the step gave no sign,\nuttered no word to call him back. Sadly Jan turned and moved along the\ntrail behind the mule. The doctor and the captain, and even Pierrot,\nlooked at the dog, but none of them spoke to him.\n\nFor some little distance Jan trudged heavily, then he stopped suddenly\nand twisted for a last look at his home. He saw the high-peaked roof and\nthe snow-clad mountains looming above it, then he turned again to follow\nthe travellers. They were now some distance ahead of him and a jagged\ncliff hid them from his eyes. Jan did not move.\n\nThrough a gap he saw the captain, the doctor, and the guide. They halted\nthis time. They were waiting there for him.\n\nThe dog started quickly toward them, but something made him look again\nwhere Brother Antoine stood on the steps. Jan hesitated, then he sat\ndown facing the trail toward Martigny. In a few minutes he saw the\nlittle procession start on its way. He knew he could catch up with them\neasily if he ran fast, but still he sat without moving, his eyes\nfastened on that gap between the mountains.\n\nHe lifted his head and sent out the cry of his forefathers, so that the\nechoes rang again and again. The answering voices died away, there was\nno sound save the swish of melting snow that slipped down the steep\nplaces, and then Prince Jan, St. Bernard, turned and trotted up the\ntrail to the home of his ancestors.\n\nBrother Antoine waited on the top step. As the dog reached him, the monk\nstooped and patted him, whispering softly, \"It is not easy, Prince Jan,\nwhen the paths that Love and Duty travel lie far apart.\"\n\nAnd so Prince Jan came back to the work of his ancestors, and as the\nmonths passed by he saved many lives and was very happy. The young dogs\nlistened in respectful wonder when he told of the strange places and\nthings that he had found in the Land of No Snow. They learned from him\nthe lessons of obedience, loyalty, and kindliness.\n\n\"If you do the very best you know how, it will always work out right in\nthe end,\" Jan ended each talk.\n\nBut sometimes at night as he slept among the other dogs, he saw the\ncaptain walking about a room. Cheepsie was perched on the old man's\nshoulder, while Hippity-Hop skipped beside them, and the dog-knew that\nthey were thinking of him.\n\nThen Jan's ears cocked up, his tail swished gently on the stone floor of\nthe Hospice, for in his dreams he heard the faint sound of a quavering\nvoice singing:\n\n    \"Old dog Tray is ever faithful,\n    Grief cannot drive him away.\n      He's gentle and he's kind\n      And you'll never, never find\n    A better friend than old dog Tray.\"\n\n\n\n\nChapter XVII\n\nJAN'S REWARD\n\n\nTwo years went past and Jan's work at the Hospice brought him great\nhappiness, for he knew that he was doing the work of his ancestors and\nliving a useful life.\n\nOften as he travelled the snow trails, he remembered the Land of No\nSnow, the warm sunshine, the fragrant flowers and the beautiful trees\nladen with golden fruit. But the one thing for which his loyal heart\nyearned most was the touch of a wrinkled hand on his head and the sound\nof the old poundmaster's voice. No one knew Jan's thoughts, for he was\nalways eager to do his work the best he knew how, and to teach the\npuppies to be proud of the privilege of helping people.\n\nBrother Antoine had left the Hospice and gone down into the warmer\nclimate of the Valley of the Rhone. His work had been done bravely and\nunselfishly, and the monks had asked that he be sent to a place where\nsunshine and milder air would give him a chance to recover his strength\nand prolong his life. Jan greatly missed this dear friend.\n\nThere were cold mornings when Prince Jan rose stiffly, for he had not\nbeen hardened to the trail work from puppy days as Rollo and the other\ndogs had been. Five years of warm sunshine in the Land of No Snow had\nmade Jan's muscles soft and flabby and he felt the cold weather more\nthan any of the other St. Bernards. Then, too, his long hair made the\nwork of the trails harder for him because the snow clung to his fur and\nwhen it melted and soaked to his skin, the monks watched carefully to\nkeep him from becoming chilled. Once or twice he had limped badly after\ncoming in from his work, and then he had been rubbed and taken into the\nBig Room and allowed to stretch before the fireplace, and for a while he\nwas not sent out with the other dogs.\n\nOne day during summer many of the dogs were given a chance to exercise\noutdoors. Jan sat watching the youngsters tumble each other about, while\nhe recalled the times when he and Rollo had played that way and old\nBruno had sat watching them. Then one of the pups began barking, and\nsoon the others added their calls of welcome as a little party of\ntravellers appeared in the opening of the mountain pass toward Martigny.\nJan, mindful of his responsibility, joined in the calls. His deep,\nmellow tones sounded distinctly above the others, but he did not know\nthat those on the trail had stopped while an old man, mounted on a mule,\ncried out, \"Listen! That is Jan! I know his voice!\"\n\nA younger man and a young woman who were also mounted on mules, laughed\nhappily, though the woman's eyes were filled with tears as she looked at\nthe old man. Then they hurried on and soon were in plain sight of the\nsteps that led into the Hospice. In a few more minutes the mules stopped\nand the dogs crowded about to show how glad they were to have visitors.\n\nThe old man climbed down from his mule and turned to face the dogs. He\nlooked quickly from one to the other, until he found the one he sought.\nPrince Jan started, his eyes lighted up suddenly, his head was lifted\nhigh, then with a yelp of joy the big dog leaped forward.\n\n\"Jan! Jan! You haven't forgotten me, have you?\" cried the old\npoundmaster, kneeling down and putting his arms about the shaggy neck,\nwhile the dog's rough tongue licked the wrinkled hand, and little\nwhimpers of delight told of Jan's happiness.\n\nThe other dogs crowded around in excitement, wondering what it all\nmeant, and the guide, with the lady and gentleman, now beside the old\nman, kept talking together and patting Jan's head. But he did not think\nof them as they moved to the door, for Jan's only thought was to keep\nclosely beside his dear old master whose hand rested on the furry head,\nand whose kindly, faded blue eyes were filled with tears of joy. Jan's\neyes spoke his own happiness and love.\n\nIn the Big Room the monks received the old captain, whom they had not\nforgotten, and after the first greetings were over, they listened to the\nstory of the poundmaster's homesickness for Jan. The lady, who was the\ncaptain's daughter, explained that the mines in far-away Alaska had been\nsold for enough money to build a home in Southern California, where the\ncaptain lived with them. But it had not taken her very long to learn how\nmuch her father wished to see Prince Jan once more. So the little\nfamily had travelled back to Jan's home in the Alps.\n\nThat evening Jan was very happy as he stretched before the fireplace at\nthe captain's feet. He did not sleep, for his eyes were fixed on the old\nman's face, and when the poundmaster reached down to touch Jan's head,\nthe dog's tail swished and thumped. Then Jan rose to his feet and laid\nhis head on the captain's knee, just as he used to do in the other days.\n\nThe monks talked very earnestly with the captain's daughter and her\nhusband, and at last they all sat down together, smiling at Jan. He did\nnot understand what they were saying but he knew they were very happy,\nand he was happy with them.\n\nWhat they had talked about was their plan for the dog. He was now past\neight years old and in a short time would not be able to go out on the\ntrail. Prince Jan had done his part in the work of the St. Bernards with\nhonor to himself and to them, and now that he was growing old, the monks\nfelt that he was entitled to spend his last years in comfort and\nhappiness with his old friend, Captain Smith.\n\nSo, the next morning Jan was brought to the entrance of the Hospice,\nand there, as before, he saw Captain Smith on the mule. The captain's\ndaughter and her husband were mounted on the other mules, and the guide\nhad started along the trail.\n\nJan looked at the monks who were grouped on the stone steps, then he\nlooked at the captain. The mules moved slowly behind the guide. Prince\nJan gave a pitiful little whimper as he saw them go. Then he heard the\nvoice of the monk who now had charge of the kennels.\n\n\"Go on, Jan!\"\n\nThe dog took a few steps and stopped. The monks were smiling and\npointing toward the trail that led to Martigny. He turned and watched\nthose who were riding down that trail. They reached the gap and paused.\n\nJan stood with trembling body, his eyes filled with longing and grief.\nThen clear and strong he heard the voice he loved.\n\n\"Come on, Jan! We're going home now!\"\n\n\"Woof! Woof!\" the answer woke the echoes sleeping in the hearts of the\nmountains, the dogs of the Hospice took up the call of their kin, and\nthe big dog dashed swiftly along the trail until he reached the little\ngroup.\n\nLeaping up, he licked the poundmaster's hand. Then with head erect,\nPrince Jan, for the last time, travelled the trail of his ancestors. He\ndid not know where he was going, but it made no difference to him. His\nmaster was looking down at him and smiling.\n\n\nTHE END","title":"Prince Jan, St. Bernard","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":35023}