Part 30 (1/2)

”Yes; but their brothers in distress who are strong and well, and who have enough gold to buy food, have too much conscience to rob them.”

”How much longer can we hold out?”

”I don't know,” said Dallas, ”and I don't want to know. Stores are getting terribly low, and that's near enough for me. But what do you say to the dog?”

”Poor brute! We must keep him.”

”I meant killing and eating him.”

”No, you didn't. Dal, I'm better this morning; the coming of that poor dog like a fellow-creature in distress seems to have cheered me up.”

”That's right. Then, as a reward, I will wait a few days and go round cadging.”

”No--buying.”

”The fellows won't sell. They will only let us have some as a loan.”

”Very well, then; get what you can as a loan, Dal.”

”All right; but I know what it will be wherever I go: 'We can let you have some tobacco, old man; we've scarcely anything else.'”

”Never mind; try.”

Dallas threw a few small pieces of wood on the fire to make a blaze and light up the rough place, and then the breakfast was partaken of. Not a very substantial meal: milkless tea, with very stodgy hot cake, made with musty meal; but to the great delight of Dallas, his companion in misfortune partook thereof with some show of appet.i.te, and then sat looking on without a word while Dallas took one of their gold-was.h.i.+ng pans, poured in some meal, took a piece of split firewood, and stirred with one hand while he poured hot water in from the billy with the other.

Neither spoke, but their thoughts were in common, and as soon as the hot mash had cooled a little, the cook turned to the dog.

”Now then, rough un,” he cried, ”as you have invited yourself to bed and breakfast, here is your mess, and you'd better eat it and go.”

The dog opened his eyes, looked at him wistfully, and beat the floor again, but he made no effort to rise.

”Poor brute! He is weak, Bel. Here, let's help you.”

Pa.s.sing his arm under the dog's neck, he raised him a little so that he could place the shallow tin of steaming food beneath his muzzle; but the only result was a low whine, and a repet.i.tion of the movement of the tail.

At last, though, the eyes opened, and the poor brute sniffed, and began to eat very slowly, pausing now and then to whine before beginning again, till at last the effect of the hot mess seemed magical, and the latter half was eaten with avidity, the tin being carefully licked clean.

A few minutes later the dog was asleep again, but in a different att.i.tude, for he had, after a few efforts, curled himself up as close to the fire as he could get without burning, his muzzle covered over by his bushy tail.

”Dallas Adams, Esquire, gold medal from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. Bow from Dallas Adams, Esquire, and loud cheers from the audience at the annual meeting.”

”And well deserved,” said Abel, smiling. ”Oh, I wish I had your spirits.”

”Get your frozen foot well, and then you will,” was the reply. ”Look here, I'll take a sack and go begging at once, and then come back and get in some wood, for there will not be time to work in the shaft, only get out the snow.”

”Go on, then, and you will succeed.”

”Doubtful,” was the reply.

Soon after, Dallas, with a sack fastened across one shoulder like a scarf, and his gun over his shoulder, opened the door. ”Cheer up, old chap!” he cried. ”I shan't be long,” and forcing his way out, he closed the door, plunged forward, and struggled waist deep through the snow which had drifted up against the hut.