Part 11 (1/2)

A man who is at all familiar with the ways of dogs can tell at once whether a dog's bark denotes cheer or anger or terror or grief or curiosity. To such a man a bark is as expressive of meanings as are the inflections of a human voice. To another dog these meanings are far more intelligible. And in the timbre of the multiple barks and yells that now a.s.sailed his ears, Lad read nothing to allay his own fears.

He was the hero of a half-dozen hard-won fights. He had once risked his life to save life. He had attacked tramps and peddlers and other stick-wielding invaders who had strayed into the grounds of The Place. Yet the tiniest semblance of fear now crept into his heart.

He looked up at the Mistress, a world of sorrowing appeal in his eyes. At her gentle touch on his head and at a whisper of her loved voice, he moved onward at her side with no further hesitation. If these, his G.o.ds, were leading him to death, he would not question their right to do it, but would follow on as befitted a good soldier.

Through a doorway they went. At a wicket a yawning veterinary glanced uninterestedly at Lad. As the dog had no outward and glaring signs of disease, the vet' did not so much as touch him, but with a nod suffered him to pa.s.s. The vet' was paid to inspect all dogs as they entered the show. Perhaps some of them were turned back by him, perhaps not; but after this, as after many another show, scores of kennels were swept by distemper and by other canine maladies, scores of deaths followed. That is one of the risks a dog-exhibitor must take--or rather that his luckless dogs must take--in spite of the fees paid to yawning veterinaries to bar out sick entrants.

As Lad pa.s.sed in through the doorway, he halted involuntarily in dismay. Dogs--dogs--DOGS! More than two thousand of them, from Great Dane to toy terrier, benched in row after row throughout the vast floor-s.p.a.ce of the Garden! Lad had never known there were so many dogs on earth.

Fully five hundred of them were barking or howling. The hideous volume of sound swelled to the Garden's vaulted roof and echoed back again like innumerable hammer-blows upon the eardrum.

The Mistress stood holding Lad's chain and softly caressing the bewildered dog, while the Master went to make inquiries. Lad pressed his s.h.a.ggy body closer to her knee for refuge, as he gazed blinkingly around him.

In the Garden's center were several large inclosures of wire and reddish wood. Inside each inclosure were a table, a chair and a movable platform. The platform was some six inches high and four feet square. At corners of these ”judging-rings” were blackboards on which the cla.s.ses next to be inspected were chalked up.

All around the central s.p.a.ce were alleys, on each side of which were lines of raised ”benches,” two feet from the ground. The benches were carpeted with straw and were divided off by high wire part.i.tions into compartments about three feet in area. Each compartment was to be the abiding-place of some unfortunate dog for the next four days and nights. By short chains the dogs were bound into these open-fronted cells.

The chains left their wearers just leeway enough to stand up or lie down or to move to the various limits of the tiny s.p.a.ce. In front of some of the compartments a wire barrier was fastened. This meant that the occupant was savage--in other words, that under the four-day strain he was likely to resent the stares or pokes or ticklings or promiscuous alien pattings of fifty thousand curious visitors.

The Master came back with a plumply tipped attendant. Lad was conducted through a babel of yapping and snapping thoroughbreds of all breeds, to a section at the Garden's northeast corner, above which, in large black letters on a white sign, was inscribed ”COLLIES.” Here his conductors stopped before a compartment numbered ”658.”

”Up, Laddie!” said the Mistress, touching the straw-carpeted bench.

Usually, at this command, Lad was wont to spring to the indicated height--whether car-floor or table-top--with the lightness of a cat. Now, one foot after another, he very slowly climbed into the compartment he was already beginning to detest--the cell which was planned to be his only resting-spot for four interminable days. There he, who had never been tied, was ignominiously chained as though he were a runaway puppy. The insult bit to the depths of his sore soul. He curled down in the straw.

The Mistress made him as comfortable as she could. She set before him the breakfast she had brought and told the attendant to bring him some water.

The Master, meantime, had met a collie man whom he knew, and in company with this acquaintance he was walking along the collie-section examining the dogs tied there. A dozen times had the Master visited dog-shows; but now that Lad was on exhibition, he studied the other collies with new eyes.

”Look!” he said boastfully to his companion, pausing before a bench whereon were chained a half-dozen dogs from a single ill.u.s.trious kennel. ”These fellows aren't in it with old Lad. See--their noses are tapered like tooth-picks, and the span of their heads, between the ears, isn't as wide as my palm; and their eyes are little and they slant like a Chinaman's; and their bodies are as curved as a grayhound's. Compared with Lad, some of them are freaks. That's all they are, just freaks--not all of them, of course, but a lot of them.”

”That's the idea nowadays,” laughed the collie man patronizingly. ”The up-to-date collie--this year's style, at least--is bred with a borzoi (wolfhound) head and with graceful, small bones. What's the use of his having brain and scenting-power? He's used for exhibition or kept as a pet nowadays--not to herd sheep. Long nose, narrow head----”

”But Lad once tracked my footsteps two miles through a snowstorm,”

bragged the Master; ”and again on a road where fifty people had walked since I had; and he understands the meaning of every simple word.

He----”

”Yes?” said the collie man, quite unimpressed. ”Very interesting--but not useful in a show. Some of the big exhibitors still care for sense in their dogs, and they make companions of them--Eileen Moretta, for instance, and Fred Leighton and one or two more; but I find most of the rest are just out for the prizes. Let's have a look at your dog.

Where is he?”

On the way down the alley toward Cell 658 they met the worried Mistress.

”Lad won't eat a thing,” she reported, ”and he wouldn't eat before we left home this morning, either. He drinks plenty of water, but he won't eat. I'm afraid he's sick.”

”They hardly ever eat at a show,” the collie man consoled her, ”hardly a mouthful--most of the high-strung ones, but they drink quarts of water. This is your dog, hey?” he broke off, pausing at 658. ”H'm!”

He stood, legs apart, hands behind his back, gazing down at Lad. The dog was lying, head between paws, as before. He did not so much as glance up at the stranger, but his great wistful eyes roved from the Mistress to the Master and back again. In all this horrible place they two alone were his salvation.

”H'm!” repeated the collie man thoughtfully. ”Eyes too big and not enough slanted. Head too thick for length of nose. Ears too far apart. Eyes too far apart, too. Not enough 'terrier expression' in them. Too much bone, too much bulk. Wonderful coat, though--glorious coat! Best coat I've seen this five years. Great brush, too! What's he entered for? Novice, hey? May get a third with him at that. He's the true type--but old-fas.h.i.+oned. I'm afraid he's too old-fas.h.i.+oned for such fast company as he's in. Still, you never can tell. Only it's a pity he isn't a little more----”

”I wouldn't have him one bit different in any way!” flashed the Mistress. ”He's perfect as he is. You can't see that, though, because he isn't himself now. I've never seen him so crushed and woe-begone. I wish we had never brought him here.”