THE VOICES OF THE HOSPICE DOGS
Prince Jan could not tell how many days and nights passed while the boat
throbbed on its way. He grew accustomed to the motion and as the captain
came often each day to see him and talk to him, and many other people
also visited him, Jan found life very pleasant.
Among his visitors was a pretty young woman with big brown eyes and a
gentle voice. Nearly always a little child was in her arms, or held by
the hand, for it was just beginning to walk. Captain Smith and these two
seemed to be great friends. Many times he carried the baby in his arms
and it laughed up in his face when he held it down to pat Jan's head.
The dog watched for them every day, and he was never disappointed. Once,
the captain brought Hippity-Hop to see Jan, and the kitten purred loudly
and rubbed against the dog's legs, while Jan poked her gently with his
nose. The old man chuckled, "You haven't forgotten each other, have
you?" Then he picked up the kitten and carried it away.
That night, without warning, everything seemed to change, somehow. The
boat leaped and jumped as though it were frightened at the big waves
that washed against and over it. The night was dark, and down in the
hold of the vessel it was still darker. Jan listened to men running
overhead, voices called loudly and then came a sudden crash. The boat
quivered as though it were hurt.
Jan was thrown so heavily against the side of the boat that he lay
gasping for breath, then he dragged himself to his feet. Swaying with
the jerky motion, but managing to brace himself, he peered through the
inky darkness toward the steps leading to the deck. Again he heard the
hurried feet, the loud voices of men, and this time there were cries of
women and children, too.
He knew something was not right, and as he pulled with all his strength
on the rope that held him, and strained his eyes toward the stairway, he
heard a sound that made him give a loud bark of joy.
"All right, Jan!" his master was calling through the darkness, "I'm
coming!"
The dog whimpered and licked the hands that fumbled at the rope which
was tied to the side of the boat. With a leap and yelp of joy, Jan
scrambled up the stairs ahead of his master, and both of them reached
the deck.
It was very early in the morning and the sky was heavy with dark clouds.
The wind screamed and big waves tossed so high that at times the boat
appeared to be down in the bottom of a great hole. Although the vessel
jerked, groaned, creaked and crunched, it did not move forward. When the
water washed back a few minutes, Jan saw jagged rocks poking up and felt
the boat pounding on them. He could not understand it at all, and as he
looked up with puzzled eyes at his master, he saw the old man was
staring straight ahead at a strip of land not very far away, where a lot
of people were running about in a great hurry.
One of the boat crew ran past Jan, carrying a rope. Other men were
fastening queer looking rings about the bodies of women and children,
while still more men were lowering a little boat into the water. But as
soon as it touched the waves, it was turned on end and smashed like an
egg-shell against the side of the ship. Jan, standing with his legs
braced firmly, saw the frightened women and children huddled together.
Most of them were very quiet, but some were crying. A few were kneeling
on the wet deck, and though their eyes were shut, Jan knew they were not
asleep, for their lips were moving as if they were talking to some one
whom he could not see.
The shore did not seem very far away, and Jan saw men pushing a little
boat into the water. They leaped into it quickly and grabbed up oars.
"Thank God!" said the old poundmaster to a man who stood beside him and
Jan. "The Life Guards will save the women and children!"
"There is no Life Saving Station here," Jan heard a woman's voice reply.
He looked up and saw the pretty lady beside his old master. Her face was
very white and she held her baby tightly in her arms, while she stared
at the place where the tiny boat was being shoved into the sea by men
who stood waist-deep in the rushing water. Then the boat shot high on a
wave and started toward the ship. Those on the shore joined in the
cheers that sounded on the stranded ship; but even as they cheered, a
bigger wave snatched at the boat and overturned it, dumping all the men
into the sea. The little boat was dashed on the beach, but those who had
been rowing it bobbed about in the water until helped to land.
A group of men, who had been talking with a man wearing a cap trimmed
with gold braid, now carried a rope to the side of the ship and tossed
it swiftly toward land. Men on the shore were trying to launch another
boat, and every one on the ship leaned forward watching them. The waves
carried the rope some distance forward, and then tossed it back against
the ship's side as though playing with it, just as a cat plays with a
mouse. Tangled and twisted, the rope rose on the crest of a high wave,
then dropped from sight, only to bob up once more, and all the time
drifting further from land.
"The vessel will be driftwood in half an hour more! She is breaking
amidships!" the man beside Jan was speaking again to the poundmaster.
"No boat can live in such a sea and no man can swim it."
Captain Smith looked down at Jan. "It doesn't count so much with us,
Jan," he said, "but it's the women and children. Maybe you can help
them. Come!"
The dog started at the sound of command and followed his master across
the water-washed deck to the group of ship's officers who were gathered
around the captain of the boat. All were talking earnestly when old
Captain Smith and Jan pushed between them.
"Maybe Jan can take the rope to shore," said the poundmaster, while his
hand rested on Jan's wet fur. "He's a splendid swimmer and isn't afraid
of the water."
The man with the gold-trimmed cap looked down at the dog whose
intelligent eyes turned from face to face as though doing his best to
find out why they were all looking at him, and what they wanted.
"It is too much to expect of a dog," said the man, shaking his head.
"Even if he were strong enough, he could not understand."
"Jan understands everything I tell him," insisted the old man, "and it
wouldn't be any harm to try him. When he once knows what we want him to
do, he will do it or die in trying."
Just then the boat lurched badly and the people slipped and slid on the
slanting, wet deck, but Jan did not move. His firm muscles stiffened,
he braced himself steadily and his strong back straightened. The group
of officers began talking again and Jan heard them say something about
his strength to Captain Smith. A heavier wave lifted the ship from the
rocks then dropped her back on the jagged edges that were stabbing her
to the heart, while she writhed and groaned like a living thing in agony
begging for help.
The ship's captain turned his eyes on the group of women and children,
then to the shore, as though he were measuring the distance across the
raging water that boomed between the boat and land. Slowly he turned
back to the old man and the dog.
"He may be able to do it, if you can make him understand," he said at
last. Then he added in a low voice, "It is our only hope!"
Jan saw these men all were looking at him and then the ship's captain
spoke.
"If the dog can reach shore with the light rope so we can attach the
heavier one, we can rig up a breeches-buoy with the boatswain's chair,
and the women and children could ride safely, for we could lash them to
it."
Captain Smith leaned down and took Jan's head between trembling hands.
The dog and he looked into each other's eyes, and those who watched the
two, felt a little thrill of hope. The animal seemed struggling to grasp
the meaning of the old man's words. A bit of rope was in the captain's
hand, he held it to Jan, who sniffed, then looked back at his master.
Still holding the piece of rope, Captain Smith led the dog to the side
of the boat and pointed at the tangled coils that washed on the surface
of the waves a short distance away.
"Go get it, Jan!" called the old man sharply.
The people on the deck crowded more closely, and the dog braced himself
to spring, but just then a huge wave rose high over the vessel, the
white-crested tip hissing like an angry snake, and Jan looked down,
down, down into a dark hole and below it gleamed the jagged peaks of the
reef, like threatening teeth of a hidden monster. He knew the danger.
Drawing back he turned pleading eyes on his master.
"Go, Jan," said the voice he loved, but this time it did not command, it
begged.
The big wave slipped back, others rose behind it, each one tipped with
white foam, and between those waves were deep, dark hollows. Jan looked
at them, and as he looked, something changed those white-capped things
into snowy peaks of the mountains around the Hospice, while the dark
places between were changed to chasms and crevasses, where Barry, Pluto,
Pallas, Rex and all the dogs of the Hospice had travelled year after
year for ten centuries past. He heard their voices calling him. Jan's
ears cocked up, his body quivered, his muscles stiffened, his nose
pointed high in the air and the cry he sent back to the calls of his kin
was clear and strong like the music of a wonderful, deep-toned bell.
Then he braced himself and leaped far out into the water that caught him
like many strong arms and dragged him under the waves.
With all his great strength Jan fought his way to the surface and as he
rose, something struck against him. He turned quickly to see what new
danger threatened, and then he saw the rope and remembered what he had
been told.
"Go get it, Jan!" his master had said.
[Illustration: _"Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of
the Hospice dogs--'The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!'"_]
The dog caught the squirming rope between his teeth, and as he did so,
he heard distinctly the cheers of those on the stranded ship echoed by
those on the shore before he was pulled down beneath the waves again;
but he clung to the rope. When he reached the surface, Jan saw his
master leaning far over the edge of the deck, pointing toward the land.
Then he understood, and without a moment's hesitation he flung his body
away from the direction of the boat and faced the shore, while the rope
trailed behind him, often dragging him back with terrific jerks. The
force of the waves tossed him high on dizzy crests, then he was dropped
swiftly into depths of seething water. His breath came in painful gasps
between his tightly clinched teeth, the water rang in his ears and he
was half-blinded by the stinging salt spray that cut like a sharp knife
across his eyes.
In spite of his struggles he seemed no nearer the land. Back of him he
could see the swaying masts of the boat, and at times the whole length
of the deck with people crowded together. Jan, dazed and almost
exhausted, turned to swim back to his master and safety. His paws beat
the waves more feebly, but his teeth still held the rope. Down, down,
down he sank, and over his head rolled the white-crested mountains of
water. Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of the Hospice
dogs. The voices of Barry Bruno, Rex and Jan's mother sounded clearly.
Other dogs joined in the chorus until Jan knew that he heard the voices
of all the dogs that had ever lived in the Hospice. Hundreds and
hundreds of deep notes, like the bells of the Hospice sending a message
to him. "The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!"
He fought with new strength, and as his head rose above the waves, the
rope still dragging along, he heard cheers that grew nearer and louder,
but this time the voices came from the land. A breaker curled high,
dashed furiously over him and then it carried him with a rush to the
beach and flung him, gasping and exhausted, high on the sand, but the
end of the rope was clutched tightly between his teeth. He held it, even
when men tried to take it from him, but the hands were kindly and as his
jaws relaxed he was lifted gently and carried where the cruel waves
could not touch him again.
Jan was too tired to open his eyes when some one knelt beside him and
stroked his wet hair, and a man's voice said huskily, "You wonderful,
brave fellow!"
Cheers sounded loud and long, and at last Jan opened his eyes and lifted
his head wearily for a second. Before it dropped again to the sand, he
saw men on the shore working with another, heavier rope, and some one
called out, "Thank God! They got it that time!"
Jan staggered to his feet and with wobbling legs moved a few steps
forward. Then he forgot his weariness and aching muscles and stood
watching something strange, something that made women near him cry, and
the men cheer wildly.
A rope reached from the shore to the stranded ship, and something was
moving slowly along that rope toward the land. Jan's feet were in the
surf, but he did not know it as he, too, watched and saw a chair, and in
that chair was a woman.
She was seized by eager hands and lifted down among them, laughing and
crying and saying, "Oh, quick! Save the others!"
Again and again the chair travelled over the waves that leaped up to
clutch it, but the rope was firm. And once when a woman was carried in
the chair, a man on the shore gave a big cry of joy as he clasped her in
his arms. Jan recognized the pretty lady, but she did not have her baby
in her arms this time. Then every one was silent, only a woman's sob
sounded softly, and the pretty lady stood staring across the water,
where high above the waves swung a big leather mailbag. It came nearer
and nearer, and men went far out into the surf to steady it, until it
was unfastened, lifted down, opened, and the pretty lady, crying and
laughing, held her baby in her arms, and the child laughed back at them
all.
Men cheered and cheered, and from the ship came answering cheers, while
the mother and father of the child knelt down beside the dog, saying,
"You saved her, Prince Jan!"
The dog watched vainly for his master. Trip after trip brought men and
women to the land, and each one was welcomed wildly. Then Jan, still
watching, gave a great "Woof!" and rushed out into the water. The chair
was approaching the shore, and in the chair was Jan's master. A basket
was held in the old man's lap and on it was fastened a bird cage with a
badly frightened canary. Through a break in the basket waved
Hippity-Hop's furry paw. Those on the shore scattered as Prince Jan
raced among them uttering hysterical yelps until his master stood safely
beside him and leaned down catching the dog's long, soft ears and
pulling them gently, while he said over and over, "Jan, Prince Jan! I
knew you would do it!"
And so, ninety-one people were brought safely to shore in the
boatswain's chair with the rope that Prince Jan had carried, and the
baby that had ridden in the mail sack was kissed and hugged by all those
who could get near her.
Then Prince Jan followed the captain, the pretty lady, and the man who
walked beside her with the baby perched high on his shoulder, and who
had his other arm around the waist of the baby's mother. A tiny paw
reached out of the hamper Captain Smith was carrying, and the dog felt
the tap of Hippity-Hop's paw on his ear. He turned at the touch and put
his nose to the basket, and then he saw Cheepsie, fluttering in the cage
that was gripped by the old captain's other hand.
The little party reached the top of a bluff and turned around to look
across the rough waves. The deserted ship reeled sideways. Water rose
and hid it an instant. When next they looked, there was nothing but the
sky with threatening clouds and the wind-lashed sea.
No one spoke as they went up the pathway of a little house where the
pretty lady lived. The door was opened, they entered, and then the
pretty lady knelt suddenly beside Jan and kissed his head.
"God bless you, Prince Jan!" she whispered.
And though the dog did not understand it, he was very happy because he
knew they were all glad.