for all the satin cushions in the world. He felt that he should sicken
and die shut up in a home, fed on bonbons, and only allowed to run to
the length of a short chain. To be sure it must be nice to have for a
mistress a pretty lady who would stroke you with her soft white hand,
or a sweet little girl to romp and play with, but one could not have
these joys without the evils of being shut up in an overheated house,
and that he knew he could not stand.
He had been born under a barn standing in the suburbs of San Francisco.
His father he had never seen and his mother was a small yellow dog like
himself, only she had a tail that curled in a beautiful manner once and
a half times round, of which she was very proud. His tail had curled in
this same way until some bad boys caught him and cut it off.
“Oh, I tell you, Master Billy, you don’t know what it is to knock
around the world and be only a poor little yellow cur that every one
delights to kick and stone, although he has done nothing but mind his
own business. You see, though you have traveled a great deal and seen
more of the world than I have, still you have not bucked up against
its cruel side as I have. One reason is because you are so big and so
strong that people dare not hurt you, while as for me, I have been so
small and so homely that any bad boy or man could be cruel to me and
not be afraid of getting hurt for it.
“I had had my eyes open only for a few days when my mother told my
brothers and sisters and me that if we wanted to get on in the world we
must not look for justice, or bite when we were abused, and she said
that we must endure all things, be patient and return good for evil. I
remember this talk distinctly because it was the last we ever had with
her, for the very next day a boy crawled under the barn and took all my
brothers and sisters and myself in a basket and carried us to the river
bank, where he tied a stone to each of our necks and then threw us into
the water to drown. Somehow, he did not tie my string tight enough,
and when he threw me into the river the weight of the stone untied
the string and let me loose, so when I reached the bottom, instead of
staying down like my brothers and sisters, I came to the surface and
then swam ashore. I never knew I could swim until I found myself in the
river, and then, instinctively, I struck out as if I had been swimming
all my life, just as all animals do when thrown into the water for the
first time.
“When I reached the shore the boy had gone, for when he saw us
disappear under the water he thought we would never come up. I rested
on the bank in the sun until I got dry, quietly crying for my kind
little mother, for I knew I never could find my way back to her. I saw
a house a short distance away with a barn and barnyard at the back, so
I crept under the fence into the back yard and went to sleep beside a
straw-stack. For supper I had only a little milk that I lapped up from
the ground where the girl had spilled it when milking. Of course I got
more dirt than milk, but I was afraid to go nearer to the house for
fear of being abused.
“The next morning the hired girl came out to milk the cow and I made up
my mind I would try to make friends with her, so I commenced by giving
a little low bark to attract her attention as she sat milking. She
turned around quickly and said, ‘My goodness, how you scared me! Where
did you come from, you poor forlorn little thing?’
“Her voice reassured me, so I ran straight up to her and she patted me
and said, ‘There, don’t look so frightened, no one is going to hurt
you.’ When she went to the house she called to me to follow her, which
I was very glad to do, and she gave me a saucer of nice, warm milk,
which I was very much in need of, being both cold and hungry.
“Well, from that day until I was stolen by a tin peddler, I stayed
there and was petted and fed as if I had been a dog with the bluest of
blue blood in my veins. But what a life I had of it with that lying,
cheating tinker, until he at last sold me for five dollars to a young
lady who had taken a fancy to me, mostly from pity, I think. From this
lady I learned many tricks and was dressed in a blue blanket and tied
with blue ribbons, which I tried to lose off or else rolled in the
mud with, every chance I got. Some boys stole me from her, finally,
and they cut off my beautiful curly tail, the only thing about me that
was beautiful, although the young lady used to say, ‘Stubby, you have
the loveliest eyes I ever saw in a dog’s head. They certainly look as
if you had a human soul, and you make me wonder what you are thinking
about.’
“After the boys stole me, my luck went from bad to worse until I had
to hide in the daytime and only look for food at night. I was stoned
and kicked so that at last I gave up trying to find a good master or
mistress and I hid in alleys, sometimes sleeping out in the rain and
cold without any shelter but the sky or anything softer than a board to
sleep on, so when this old packing box was thrown out into the alley I
hailed it with delight and have lived in it ever since.
“You see my story is only a pitifully uninteresting tale beside your
life history.”
“Forget the past,” said Billy Jr. “That is gone, and in the future we
will live together and see what good we can get out of life. What do
you say to leaving the city and going out into the country? It is much
cleaner there, while there is less chance of being abused or of getting
shut up where we won’t be free to come and go as we please.”
“Very well,” said Stubby, “I am longing to get into the country once
again. What direction shall we take?”
“South,” replied Billy Jr. “Let us try to find our way to Old Mexico,
where it is nice and warm the year round.”
“That is a splendid idea,” said Stubby. “I, too, am tired of the cold.”
“It is too bad that dogs can’t live on grass and the things that goats
can, for then you would not have to go hungry so often. I believe I
could live on old shoes and straw if I could find nothing else to eat,
although I don’t say I should relish them much,” said Billy.
“Oh, I can live on very little, so don’t worry about me,” said Stubby.
At the first peep of dawn the two friends left the old packing box and
started on their long journey to Old Mexico.
[Illustration]
_Small Adventures._
Six months later we find Billy Jr. and Stubby near the City of Mexico,
on a large stock-farm, where are raised fierce, blooded bulls intended
for the bull-fights that take place every Sunday in the City.
It would take too long to tell of all the troubles and mishaps the
two friends met with on their long journey from San Francisco to Old
Mexico, but with all their trials they enjoyed it, for both were good
travelers and made the best of things without complaining when matters
could not be helped.
Once Stubby came very near getting drowned in a fierce mountain stream
that had become swollen from recent rains until it was twice its usual
size. Caught in one of the whirling eddies, he was spun round and
round until, dizzy and sick, he could not open his eyes, and had not
strength enough left to swim against the strong, swift current. He was
just giving up hope when he felt some large object strike his side
and, opening his eyes for an instant, he saw Billy Jr., who swam out to
rescue him.
“Climb on my back, Stub,” Billy cried, “and I will swim to shore with
you.” Stubby did as he was bidden and soon they were shaking themselves
dry on the bank.
[Illustration]
Another mishap, one in which Stubby was the hero and saved Billy Jr.’s
life, occurred one moonlight night out on the plains. They were both
sound asleep when Stubby was suddenly awakened by hearing a peculiar
rattling sound and, looking about, he was horrified to see a snake
just ready to spring upon Billy, who was sleeping peacefully. With a
bound, Stubby had the reptile by the neck and in a second had shaken
him to death. In fact, he had given him such a crack that the snake’s
head nearly flew off. Small dogs have often been known to kill snakes
in this way. Billy Jr. was very much surprised when he awoke and saw
a big snake lying under his very nose. Stubby had dragged it there to
see what Billy would do when he saw it. Had it been alive Billy would
surely have been bitten, for he was too much surprised to move. He
stared at it with blinking eyes to see if his sight was not deceiving
him. When he discovered that it was really a snake he ducked his head
and hooked it away.
“Did you see that rattlesnake, Stubby? I had a pretty close call,
didn’t I?”
“Not so very,” said Stubby, “for dead snakes do not bite.”
“That was no dead snake, for it was not there when I laid down, and
dead snakes do not crawl.”
“You are right there, Billy Jr., but that snake was dead and I ought to
know, for I killed it and dragged it there just to scare you.”
“Oh, you did, did you? and where did you find it?”
“I found it about three feet from your head ready to spring upon you,
so I made a spring first and killed it before it had time to bite you.
After I killed it I put it under your nose for fun.”
“You are a brick, Stubby, that is what you are; a regular gold brick,
and I will not forget this in a hurry. I hope some day I shall have a
chance to do you a good turn or save your life.”
“Well, don’t lay awake nights trying to think of some way to help me,
for you have already saved my life once, when you pulled me out of the
whirlpool,” said Stubby.
One day when they were trotting along the foot-hills of the Sierra
Madre mountains, tired and footsore, hungry and cold, feeling
thoroughly discouraged and as if they should never reach their
destination, they thought they saw a curl of blue smoke rising from the
base of one of the foot-hills in among some tall cacti.
“Look, Billy, look,” cried Stubby, who had been the first to see it;
“that smoke means some man is building a fire to cook his supper by. I
have seen a little curl of smoke like that before and it always means
that, at this time of the day. Let’s go and see if he won’t share with
us. I am so hungry for a piece of meat I feel as if I could almost kill
some one, if I had to, to get it, and I am so thin, I am sure if you
listened you could hear my ribs rattle. Raw prairie-dog meat and roots
are not very filling food for a dog, and I feel as if the only thing I
had had to eat since we left Frisco was those ground bird eggs I sucked
a week ago. You did not like them and said they were too stale and that
if I waited half an hour they would hatch out and I could then have
birds instead of eggs. You must be just as hungry, for buffalo grass
may sustain life but it is dry stuff to eat, while the cacti leaves
are juicy enough to eat, but the thorns on their edges run into one’s
nose and mouth and make them bleed.”
While Stubby had been doing all this talking, they had cautiously
approached the spot where they had seen the smoke rising and soon the
delicious odor of juicy steak was wafted to their nostrils by the
evening breeze.
“Oh, Billy, do you smell that steak? Don’t it smell better than
anything you ever smelt in your life before?”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I would prefer carrots or turnips. You
forget I am not a meat eater. I am a vegetarian, but for all that I can
appreciate your feelings. Look between those two tall cacti. There is
an Indian as sure as I am alive!” said Billy.
“By the Great Black Bear!” said Stubby, “you are right and I see my
finish, for if I go nosing around here, they will catch me and make
soup of me in a twinkling.”
“Have no fear, Stubby. I know the Indians well. They are fond of dogs
and they never kill and eat them unless they are starving. There is no
danger of that now, for from the smell of cooking meat which we get,
they have evidently stolen a stray cow or steer from some herd and are
now cooking it whole over a camp-fire for the entire band. There is too
strong a smell to emanate from a small piece, so if I am right you are
in luck, and likely to have your fill before the night is over. They
only eat the best part of the animal and throw the rest to their dogs.”
[Illustration: IN THE VERY CENTER STOOD LITTLE DUKE.]
This proved to be the case and after the Indians had eaten their fill,
they rolled themselves in their blankets and went to sleep. Billy and
Stubby sneaked about and found the dogs at the feast. At first these
dogs were going to protest, but Billy called to them, “The first one of
you that yelps or objects to our helping ourselves I will rip open with
my horns.” As he looked big and fierce enough to carry out this threat,
they thought he meant what he said and so let him and Stubby alone and
fell to eating in silence.
“Now, go ahead, Stubby, and eat your fill, while I wander around and
see if I can’t find some sweet herbs, for the squaws generally have a
lot hanging outside of their wigwams drying, along with sweet grass
and onions. Oh, the very thought of onions makes my mouth water! so
good-bye for awhile, but if you should want me, give the signal by
three short barks.”
The next morning the Indians were delighted to find a large black goat
and a smart, little yellow dog. They camped here for some time, making
baskets and blankets, and then started on their way to the City of
Mexico to sell their wares. Billy and Stubby stayed with them until
they passed the stock-farm before mentioned in this chapter, and then
they left, made friends with the people on the farm, and became a
fixture there for some time.
They had been on this farm three months when the incident I am about to
relate happened.
[Illustration]
_The Midnight Fire._
On this farm were large barns where the blooded horses and bulls were
housed at night, each in his own stall, and over all were great hay
mows where the hay and feed for them were kept.
Billy was fastened in one of these stalls every night, because previous
to this he had eaten all the blossoms off the lemon tree, which was
the pride of the mistress; chewed the bosom out of his master’s dress
shirts for the starch that was in them; nibbled the trailing vines off
the hanging baskets on the front veranda; and chewed the sleeve out of
the cook’s new red calico wrapper that was hanging on a line outside to
dry. Stubby, however, was allowed to rove around at will, but he always
preferred to be locked up with Billy, as it was so lonesome when left
alone outside.
As luck would have it, on the night of the fire he preferred to remain
outside to gnaw on some bones he had hidden and to have a talk with a
little hairless Chihuahua dog that lived on the farm. Had it not been
for this, Billy might have been burned to death and this story brought
to an untimely end, besides Stubby would have lost the chance of making
himself a hero.
It was near midnight. His feast and chat with the Chihuahua dog were
over and he was lying asleep just outside of Billy’s stall. Suddenly he
was awakened by something hot dropping on his head and paw. Jumping up
to find out what had hurt him, he saw flames pouring out of the open
windows of the hayloft, and as he looked the frightened faces of two
tramps appeared at the windows and then disappeared, only to reappear
at another window where there was less fire. This window they climbed
into and stood prepared to jump, but hesitated before taking the risk
from that height, until the flames drove them off and they half jumped,
half fell, to the yard below, where they dropped uninjured upon a
pile of straw. They had scarcely landed when Stubby was after them,
barking and biting at their legs, while they took to their heels in
double-quick time, glad to get off the premises. Stubby did not follow
them, for he knew that he must hurry back and awaken the household so
some one would come and unlock the stall door where his beloved Billy
was fastened. He ran back to the barn and commenced to bark, telling
Billy that the barn was on fire.
“I knew it, Stubby. I have been smelling fire and smoke for the last
half hour, but did not know where it came from. My stall is so dense
with smoke I can’t see, and if it were not for this strong rope around
my neck I would be out of here, for I could easily butt down the door,
but this rope is as tough and strong as iron. I have been chewing it
ever since I smelt the smoke, but it still holds together. I have
pulled until my neck is nearly severed from my body and still it won’t
break or slip over my horns. The horses and cattle are all in a panic
and are snuffing and pawing like mad.”
“Keep on chewing, Billy, while I run to the house after help.
Everything is quiet there; the night watchman sneaked to the city when
every one went to bed and he has not returned, and at the house all are
fast asleep, never suspecting that their property is being destroyed
and their cattle in danger of cremation. Oh, why did the watchman
leave his post?” And Stubby literally flew to the house and barked and
barked, jumping against the door to make more noise and calling to the
little Chihuahua dog to help arouse the sleeping inmates.
Every minute the flames rose higher and higher and the blazing building
lit up the landscape for miles around. But the inmates slept serenely.
Stubby ran to the back of the house and upset a lot of milk pails,
knowing they would make a terrible clatter as they rolled about on
the stones, then back again he ran to his master’s door, growling as
before. At last a sleepy voice called out:
“If you are after a cat, let her alone and lie down; don’t arouse the
whole household with your noisy barking.”
“At last I have awakened some one,” said Stubby, “and I shall make more
noise than ever,” so he ran toward the barn and back again, barking
furiously all the time, so that his master would know something was
wrong there, then he again went to the door and growled and whined.
“There must be something the matter or Stubby would not make such a
fuss,” said his master to his wife. “I’ll just get up and look out
of the window,” and as he raised the window shade the whole room was
flooded with the red glare of fire.
“My God! wife, the barn is on fire and I have been lying here like a
log while that noble dog has been trying to awaken me, and I trying to
drive him off, thinking he was chasing cats!”
Stubby’s master only waited to step into a pair of trousers and
slippers before he followed Stubby on flying feet to the barn, just
stopping long enough on the way to ring the alarm bell that hung on a
high pole and could be heard all over the farm. This unusual sound in
the dead of night awoke all of the farm-hands, and they came running
along as fast as their feet could carry them, rubbing their sleepy
eyes, wondering what danger menaced them, for this bell was never to be
rung except in case of fire or danger.
One glance at the blazing barn drove all sleep from their eyes and they
rushed toward the fire; their one thought being to save the horses and
bulls; the bulls that were to fight in to-morrow’s fight and which
had been reared and fatted for this express purpose. Apart from the
great financial loss, it would spoil to-morrow’s sport for thousands
and thousands of Spaniards and Mexicans who were anxiously awaiting
the great event. These men, being Mexicans, did not think it cruel
to sacrifice bulls and horses and men even in these fights, which
are national affairs; but we think if the poor animals knew what was
awaiting them on the morrow, they would not have tried so frantically
to escape death by fire.
As Stubby and his master were approaching the barn, one end of the roof
fell in--that end where Billy’s stall was, and on seeing this Stubby
gave a howl of despair; but the next second was blinking to see if
his eyes were not deceiving him, for who should come out of the stall
door with a bound but Billy! The goat had at last succeeded in chewing
his rope in two, and, that done, it was an easy matter to butt down
the door. Better yet, the bulls, seeing this opening, had broken out
of their stalls and were following Billy. The roof had caught on some
strong cross-beams and had not fallen on the cattle in the stalls.
[Illustration]
Soon all the bulls were out, but to get the horses out was another
matter, for, as you know, horses will remain in a burning building
in spite of everything, unless you can cover their heads and lead
them out, and even then it is a hard matter to get them to stay out.
With the help of all hands, however, they succeeded in saving the
horses, but none too soon, for as the last one was led out, the whole
barn crushed in and a few minutes more was nothing but a red heap of
burning timbers. Stubby’s master was so thankful for the escape of his
expensive horses and valuable bulls that he did not give the loss of
the barn a second thought, and when it was all over he called Stubby
and said:
“Boys, do you see this little dog? Well, if it had not been for him
all my valuable stock would have been buried under that bed of burning
coals and I should have been a poor man, as all my wealth is tied up
in horses and cattle. It was he who awakened me and gave the alarm
of fire. For this he shall have a collar of gold with this motto
inscribed upon it, ‘_To Stubby for saving forty lives this collar is
affectionately dedicated by his master, Carlos Otero._’ Stubby can
always wear this collar as Billy does his, telling of this brave deed.”
The night watchman, hearing what had happened through his neglect,
never came back, as he was too ashamed and afraid to face his master.
Every one wondered how the barn caught on fire; some thought the
watchman had set it on fire, others thought one of the stable boys had
been careless about smoking and a spark from his pipe had set fire to
the hay; but no one but Stubby really knew about the two tramps whose
pipes had done all the mischief.
_The Bull-Fight._
Two days after the fire all was bustle and confusion at the farm, for
this was the day of the long anticipated bull-fight that was to occur
in Mexico City and for which these especial bulls had been raised and
fattened. It was barely sunrise when the little procession started for
the city; the object in starting so soon being to avoid the crowd of
people anxious to view the bulls before they reached the arena.
Billy Jr. and Stubby went along as a matter of course--they must see
everything going--and they had no intentions whatsoever of missing the
great fight, particularly as the odds were in favor of their favorite
bull. Our Billy knew thoroughbreds when he saw them and could pick
the winners. To-day’s favorite was strong of bone, supple of joint,
solid of flesh, with a quick eye and a temper like a firecracker. He
was handsome to look upon with his fine, short, glossy black coat and
beautifully curved horns with tips like needles, that could pierce a
horse’s skin and rip him open in the approved Mexican style. His eyes
were large and brilliant and his nose with its sensitive nostrils as
red as the cactus blossom of his native country. And how he could
bellow and paw the ground when mad! Yes, Billy was sure he would win
against all odds.
After they reached the city, he could hear the big bull stamping around
in his stall and bellowing for his breakfast. His royal highness was
not accustomed to be kept waiting, he was always fed on the dot--just
at sunrise, and here it was twelve o’clock and not a bite, not even a
whisp of hay. Had his master forgotten him? What an outrage after his
long walk in from the farm! What in the world could be the meaning of
such treatment? He little realized that he was being starved for a
purpose.
“I tell you what it is, Billy,” he grumbled, “if that crazy stable boy
don’t bring me something to eat soon, I’ll toss him over the barn.”
“Hark! what is that? I hear music. Don’t you? And the rumble of many
feet as the crowd of people take their places in the amphitheatre.”
“You are right, Billy, the band is playing; it is almost time to begin.
Well, if I don’t get something to eat before very long I’ll give them
some sport worthy the name when I get into the arena. Shut up in here,
treated so badly, and starved to death--I’ll make somebody pay well for
it.”
“Listen,” said Billy, “they are clapping and stamping, impatient for
the fight to begin.”
“They can’t begin any too soon to please me,” said Little Duke, which
was the name of Billy’s favorite bull. “There goes Black Jack on his
way to the ring. Billy, just hear the crowd cheer and shout! He must
have stepped into the arena. He is a nasty one to handle when he is
angry. If he gets a chance to dig his horns into one of those toreadors
or horses, the man in the moon pity them and have mercy on them, for
Black Jack won’t! It will be the last fight that man or horse ever
sees.”
[Illustration]