AN UNFORGOTTEN TRAIL
Once again Jan went on a big boat, but he did not worry this time,
because his friends were with him. Hippity-Hop and Cheepsie had been
left with the doctor's wife until the captain should return for them.
The voyage was followed by travelling in a train, and each day of the
whole journey the doctor and captain visited Jan. When he was on the
train, his friends took him out of the car a number of times, so he
could stretch his legs and run about on the ground while the train
waited at a station. It did not take Jan long to understand that if he
did not get back in the car he would be left behind. So he watched very
carefully and at the first call of the captain or the doctor, he ran
swiftly to the right car and jumped in it. Passengers on the long train
watched him do this, for he never mistook his own car though there were
several others just like the one in which he rode.
Jan wore his silver collar, and wherever he went men and women would
look at it, then pat his big head and praise him. He was very happy
though he did not know where he and his friends were going.
From the train they stopped at a little town, and early the next morning
Jan followed the doctor and the captain to a place where a funny little
cart waited them. A sleepy-looking mule was hitched to the cart, and a
driver stood at the mule's head. After some talk between the driver and
the doctor, the old captain climbed into the cart and the doctor trudged
beside it, while the muleteer, as the drivers of these little carts are
called, kept near the mule's head. At first Jan followed behind them
all, but in a short time he found that the road they were trudging
became more steep. Then he trotted ahead and led the way, but looked
back often to see that every one was all right.
The town where they had spent the night was perched on a high bluff
overlooking a noisy, scurrying little river that seemed in a great hurry
to get some place else. The road Jan now travelled climbed higher and
higher, but as he stopped and looked down he could see the river
gurgling and hurrying along. It was a queer little stream, and the
muleteer called it the Dranse. In places Jan could not see it at all,
and then when he thought it had gone in another direction, it popped
out, foaming and spluttering as though it thought Jan had been fooled.
Sometimes it appeared to be running backward, and then suddenly it
seemed to be racing forward, and always it kept playing its game of
hide-and-seek with them all, and laughing and dancing like a merry elf
or water-sprite. The river kept all of them interested until they
stopped at a little village, which the muleteer said was Cantine de
Proz.
Here they walked about, while the mule was unhitched and the little
wagon was left behind. The captain now climbed on the back of the mule,
and the doctor and muleteer walked on either side of him. The road had
changed to a narrow, slippery pathway, one side of which dropped down to
a deep chasm with a fringe of snow showing here and there.
In front of them loomed mountains, and as the path twisted sharply, Jan
stopped short and stared ahead. Far away rose a huge white mountain, and
around it grouped peaks of dazzling snow, the first snow Jan had seen
since he was a puppy.
The doctor and the old man were watching him, but Jan did not see them.
He was remembering things he had almost forgotten. Slowly the mule
climbed, and the twisting trail turned and wound higher and higher. Jan
lifted his head and sniffed the air that was growing colder. Then as
they turned where the path seemed to end, the dog gave a loud bark and
dashed ahead of them where something white lay on the ground. Faster and
faster his feet flew until he stood in this white patch. His nose
touched it and tossed it in little white clouds, he threw himself down
and rolled over and over, then jumped to his feet and barked in sharp,
excited tones. Again he snapped at it, and then he raced along the
trail, frisking like a puppy, while the doctor and the captain kept
smiling at each other and nodding their heads.
But not until a tiny cabin was reached, where they all went inside to
rest a short time, did Prince Jan recognize the little Rest House and
knew that the white trail winding up the mountain side would end at the
door of the Hospice.
So, when the old man was perched again on the mule and the travellers
started toward the high white peak, Jan did not wait longer, but raced
ahead of them, barking as he ran. Up, up, faster and faster, he ran. His
heart pounded, his tongue hung far out of his mouth, he plunged his nose
into the soft, cold drifts, sometimes stopping to take a big bite, then
with yelps of joy he darted on.
And high above the steep trail rose the sharp peaks that shadowed the
hundreds of deep gullies: places where the snow never melted, even in
summer. And Prince Jan knew that he was following once more the path
that his forefathers had trodden.
He stopped quickly and lifted his nose high, then he sent forth the
great cry of the St. Bernard dogs. The deep tones echoed from crag to
crag, until it sounded as if all the dogs that had ever trodden that
trail were answering him.
Another twist of the pathway showed the jagged tips of the highest
peaks, and just back of that crest rose the roof of the Hospice. Jan
stood still for a second before he sent again that call of his people.
Again he heard the voices answering, but this time the answer came from
the dogs in the kennel-yards.
Jan trembled with excitement, then he shot forward and did not stop
until he had reached the worn stone steps that he remembered so well.
The door was closed, but some instinct made him raise his head and give
the cry of the trail.
Slowly the big door swung open and Brother Antoine stood looking with
puzzled eyes at a St. Bernard dog that he did not know. But Jan had not
forgotten. He reared on his hind legs and let his front paws drop
lightly on the shoulders of the monk. Their eyes were level, and as the
dog looked at the monk, Brother Antoine called out, "Why! It is
Jan--Prince Jan--come back to us!"
"Woof! Woof!" Jan's voice brought other monks hastily to the door, where
Brother Antoine stood patting the big, strange dog that stood with
bright shining eyes, looking from one to the other, while his fluffy
tail bobbed and wagged furiously.
As they stood talking and wondering how he came there, the doctor and
the captain, with the muleteer, came in sight. So the mystery was fully
understood.
Inside the Hospice, the monks gathered around to listen to the story of
the adventures of Prince Jan since that time when he had been led down
the trail to a Land of No Snow. His silver collar was examined and
admired, and Jan knew they were all glad that he had come back home.
It was Brother Antoine, though, who said, "Come with me, Prince Jan."
The big dog followed at once. Through the corridors of the Hospice, down
a few steps, he went swiftly to the basement, under high archways, and
through the open entrance that led into the kennel yard. And then, Jan
stood once more in the home of his ancestors, and saw again his own kin.
Panting with excitement, he ran among them all and looked eagerly
around. Many of the dogs were strangers to him, but when he saw old
Bruno limping slowly across to where he stood, Jan's yelp made the other
dogs start, and as he reached Bruno's side and showed that he had not
forgotten, Bruno's joy was just as plain. Two tawny streaks flashed up
to Jan, sniffed, and then yelped and yelped in wildest excitement; and
this time Jan's voice mingled with his mother's and Rollo's, while the
other dogs joined until the white mountains sent back the call of the
Hospice dogs.
Brother Antoine, smiling happily, patted Jan and left him with the other
dogs. But later in the day he returned and bade Jan follow. They went
into the Big Room where the captain and the doctor were talking with
several travellers and two more monks. They watched the dog move to the
side of the old man; then Brother Antoine unfastened the silver collar
from Jan's neck and hung it over the fireplace beside the big painting
of the St. Bernard dog rescuing a man from the snow.
"It shall hang there so that all who come to the Hospice may see it and
hear the story of Prince Jan," said Brother Antoine.
Every one praised Jan, and he then went back to the kennel, where he was
quickly surrounded by the other dogs. It was a great day for the St.
Bernards, and they were very proud of Jan when he told them the story of
his adventures in the strange land where there was never any snow.