Part 28 (2/2)
He broke up the cake and threw it piece after piece, each being snapped up with avidity, till there was no more, when the poor brute whined and licked Bel's hand, and then turned, crawled nearer to the fire, laid his great rough head across Dallas's foot, and lay blinking up at him, with the ice and snow which matted his dense coat melting fast.
”Poor beggar!” said Dallas. ”He has been having a rough time.”
The dog whined softly, and the unpleasant odour of burning hair began to fill the place as his bushy tail was swept once into the glowing embers.
”Give him part of the moose bone, Dal,” said Abel.
”If this blizzard keeps on we have only that to depend on, old fellow.
I want to help the dog, but I must think of you.”
”Give it up,” said Abel gloomily, as he laid a hand on his bandaged foot. ”Give him what there is, and then let him lie down and die with us. The golden dream is all over now. Look! the poor brute just managed to struggle here. He's dying.”
”No, settling down to sleep in the warm glow. Look how the water runs from his coat.”
”Dying,” said Abel positively. And the poor brute's actions seemed to prove that the last speaker was right, for he lay whining more and more softly, blinking at the fire with his eyes half-closed, and a s.h.i.+ver kept on running through him, while once when he tried to rise he uttered a low moan and fell over on to his side.
”Is he dead, Dal?” said Abel hoa.r.s.ely.
His cousin bent over the dog and laid his hand upon his throat, with the result that there was a low growling snarl and the eyes opened to look up, but only to close again, and the bushy tale tapped the floor a few times.
”Knows he is with friends, poor fellow!” said Dallas. ”But he did not show much sense in coming to Starvation Hall.”
”It was the fire that attracted him.”
”Perhaps,” said Dallas. ”But I have a sort of fancy that we have met before.”
”What!” cried Abel, brightening up, ”you don't think--”
”Yes, I do. Did you notice that the poor brute limped with one of his hind-legs?”
”Yes, but--oh, impossible. A dog would not know you again like that.
You mean the one you saved from the ice.”
”Yes, I do; but we shall see by daylight, such as it is. I say, though, if we do get home again, you and I, after our experience of this Arctic place, ought to volunteer for the next North Pole expedition.”
Abel heaved a deep sigh.
”Look here, old fellow; you were brightening up, now you are going back again. Let's go to bed and have a good long sleep in the warm. What about the dog?”
”Yes, what about him?”
”I suppose we mustn't turn him out again on a night like this.”
”Impossible.”
”But you know what these brutes are. He'll be rousing up and eating our candles and belts--anything he can get hold of; but I suppose we must risk it.”
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