THE LAND OF NO SNOW
The voyage ended, then followed another long trip in a train and Jan
reached his new home. A little girl with long, yellow curls, big blue
eyes, and pink cheeks, danced down the steps from the wide porch of a
big house as they approached.
Mr. Pixley caught her in his arms, then put her on the ground and called
to Jan, who was still in the automobile which had met them at the
station. The dog leaped out and ran to the child, looking into her face,
while his tail bobbed and waved.
"Oh, you beautiful Prince Jan!" she cried, throwing her arms about his
neck and squeezing him tightly. "I love you!"
Jan's tongue caressed her hands, touched her cheek, and his body
squirmed and twisted, then he flopped on the ground and rolled on his
back, waving his paws to show that he loved her. Obeying her call, he
trotted be sidle her, past strange trees growing on stretches of fresh,
green grass. Jan looked about him and saw that this new stuff that was
so soft when he walked upon it, reached down to the blue water, and that
water sparkled as far as he could see, and then it seemed to become a
part of the sky. Wonderful things that gave out delicate perfume formed
brilliant patches about the house and even clung high up on the walls.
Later, he learned these things were flowers, and when the wind blew
softly, they bent and swayed like lovely ladies in their prettiest
gowns, bowing and dancing. From the thick leaves of the trees floated
songs of hidden birds. Jan's head turned quickly from side to side,
trying to see everything and understand what he saw, but the most
wonderful thing to him was the dear little mistress, who talked to him
as if she knew he understood her words.
All the people in the big house were very kind to Jan, and he soon grew
accustomed to his new home. His only duty was to take care of Elizabeth,
who was so gentle and loving that he was glad and proud to guard her.
Wherever she went, he went, too.
The governess heard Elizabeth's lessons out on the lawn under the shade
of an orange tree, and Jan kept close at hand, watching the little
girl's face, and waiting patiently for the lesson to end. Then a pony
was led to the front door, and as Elizabeth rode over the firm sand of
the beach, Jan raced beside her, barking or rushing out to fight back a
wave that was sneaking too close. He loved the water, and the best time
of all, he thought, was when his mistress took her swimming lesson and
he could plough through the waves beside her. Often she would lie on her
back in the hissing, white surf, holding to Jan's collar until they both
landed on the warm sand. Sometimes the two of them would dig a big hole,
and the dog would scrunch into it, while she buried him until only his
nose and eyes could be seen. Jan was so happy that at times he forgot
the Hospice and the work his mother had told him he must do. When he did
remember it, he would puzzle over and over, "But, how can I save
people's lives here, where there is never any snow, and every one is
happy and safe?"
Christmas came, and there was a glittering tree with lights and
beautiful things on it. All the family patted Jan when Elizabeth took
down a handsome collar.
"This is for you, Jan," she said.
As she fastened it about his neck, he thought of the big room at the
Hospice, but he knew, now, no collar of his would ever hang there.
Suddenly, all the old longing for the Hospice dogs and the work made him
walk slowly out of the house and lie down on the front porch, where he
could see the blue ocean dancing in the warm sunshine, the soft, green
grass, and the beautiful flowers.
"Oh, if I could only go back home to the snow and do my work there!" he
wished, and then, in a little while he fell sound asleep.
The Fairy of Happy Dreams was very busy that Christmas Day, and when she
flew over Prince Jan and saw he was so lonesome and homesick, she
touched him with her magic wand and fluttered away, smiling.
And Prince Jan dreamed he was at the door of the Hospice. The little
wooden keg hung from his collar. Rollo, with another collar and keg,
romped beside him, pulling playfully at Jan's hairy neck, while Brother
Antoine and other monks stood on the upper step, smiling and saying,
"He is just like his father, and Rex was descended from Barry! Prince
Jan is of royal blood. He will be a credit to his ancestors!"
In the dream, Jan bounded away through the crisp, biting air, his big
paws sinking in the cold, fluffy snow. Oh, how good it felt!
"My time has come! My time has come!" he shouted as he leaped with joy.
"Jan! Jan! Remember your father!" his mother and Bruno called after him.
"I will," he answered. Then he and Rollo raced down the slippery path,
their voices, like deep-sounding bells, giving forth the cry of the St.
Bernards. They trod over ice-bridges, ploughed through deep drifts,
sliding and floundering, following the trail of their forefathers, and
sniffing as they ran.
Suddenly Jan stopped and thrust his nose into a deep drift. Then he and
Rollo dug furiously, until Jan cried, "Run, Rollo, run to the Hospice!"
Rollo whirled and disappeared, while Jan's rough tongue licked the snow
until he saw the round, soft face of a child, and beneath that child lay
its mother. Both were very quiet. Jan licked their faces, he pushed
them with his nose to rouse them, then he crowded his warm body closely
against them, and his eyes watched the trail. Soon he gave a wild yelp,
for he saw Rollo coming and back of him hurried Brother Antoine and one
of the men of the Hospice who helped on the trail.
The men lifted the woman and child, and wrapped them in warm shawls,
then they unfastened the keg from Jan's collar, and as the woman opened
her eyes they made her drink the liquid. Some of it was given to the
child. Brother Antoine carried the little one in his arms while the
other man held the woman, and Jan and Rollo trotted ahead of them to
beat down the snow and make the path easier to travel. Bruno and the
other dogs in the kennel yard sent back answering calls to Jan and
Rollo. The door opened and kindly hands received the woman and child,
and carried them to shelter and warmth.
Brother Antoine stooped and patted Jan's head, and brushed off snow that
still clung to the long hair on the dog's back, saying very softly, "The
Blessed Mother guided you, Jan; for you have saved a mother and child
on Christmas Day!"
Then he heard laughter and voices saying, "Jan is dreaming again! Wake
up, Jan!"
He woke to see waving palms, green grass, flowers, and the warm sunshine
of a land where there is never any snow. His heart, which had been
throbbing madly with joy, grew sad. He looked at his little mistress and
her friends smiling at him so kindly, and wished he could tell them his
dream and beg them to send him back where he could be useful and do the
work of his father and Barry.
But the talk of dogs is different from ours; even people who speak the
same language often misunderstand one another. Once in a great while
some person is wise enough and good enough to understand what dogs try
to say, but Prince Jan's little mistress, though she loved him dearly,
never knew what was in his heart.
The months slipped away until Jan was fully grown. His tawny-red and
white hair was as soft as silk, and when he put his paws on a man's
shoulders, their eyes were the same height. In spite of his strength and
size, he was gentle and kind. Every one loved him and he loved
everybody.
The only sadness in his life was in knowing that he could not help
people in a place where there was no snow. One night, as he came on the
porch, Jan thought it was snowing, and he raced to the spot where he had
seen the flakes falling in the bright moonlight; but when he pushed his
nose into the white glistening things beneath a tree, he found they were
only petals from the orange blossoms, the perfumed snowflakes of
California, and Jan lay down among them, the old longing for his home
and his work tugging at his heart.