A STRANGE DUEL
Lounging in all sorts of careless attitudes around the campfire that
evening, the boys were playing with Don. That exuberant animal was
an unfailing source of delight. No matter how much he had tramped
through the day, he was always ready for a frolic with the boys. All
of them were fond of him and since he had led the Scouts to the cave
and saved the lives of Jack and Tom just when the situation seemed
most desperate, he had become the idol of the camp. He was constantly
learning new tricks and perfecting those he had. Now he rolled over
and over, turned somersaults, stood on his hind legs and marched as
a soldier, stretched himself out and played dead and went through
all his extensive stock of tricks. Nor did he do it as a matter of
obedience to the shout of a command, but took as much delight in
it as did the boys themselves. It was easily seen that he thought
himself as important as any Scout in camp and there were times, it
must be said, when the boys agreed with him.
Now as he barked joyfully and leaped and ran from one to another, Ben
remarked, “Well, there’s no use talking, there’s something wrong
with a man who doesn’t love a good dog!”
“Right you are!” said Tom, who, since Don had saved his life, had
redoubled his affection for the dog. “They’re the finest animals in
the world.”
“Yes,” said Jack, while Don squatted on his haunches and looked in
his eyes adoringly, “they’re the most faithful and affectionate
beasts on earth. They’ll never go back on you, no matter what
happens. You’re just the same to them whether you have a dollar or a
million; whether you’re a helpless outcast or the President of the
United States. There aren’t many human friends that will stick by you
everywhere in foul weather as well as fair weather, but a dog always
will. He will trot along with you; he’ll fight for you; he’ll forgive
all your impatience and ill-treatment, and he wouldn’t hesitate a
moment to give up his life to save yours. They’re noble fellows,
sure enough, aren’t they, old dog?” as he fondled the shaggy head
caressingly.
“And they’re so intelligent,” said Pete. “They’ll follow a trail
anywhere. You may try to cover up your tracks by all sorts of tricks,
by walking backward in your footsteps, by running along fences or
jumping from rock to rock, but although you may confuse them, they’ll
stick to it until soon or late they pick up the trail again. The
only way to fool them utterly is to take to the water and wade
through it, but even then you have got to head for land sooner or
later and the chances are they’ll get you. You know how hard it used
to be in the old slave-holding days for a runaway to escape. I’ve
heard that in some of the places of Europe--Belgium I think--trained
dogs are a regular part of the police force and a most important part
too, if you believe all that is told about them.”
“Well,” said Dick Crawford, who, after discharging some of the
routine duties of the camp, had joined the group, “I know of a famous
case that shows both those qualities of the dog, his affection and
his intelligence. It all happened four hundred years ago and yet it
is so interesting and remarkable that the story has lived all this
time.”
The boys clamored to hear it and Dick went on:
“There was a young man in Paris, we’ll call him Aubrey for short,
of good birth and breeding and moving in the gay world of fashion.
He had a large circle of friends and owned a magnificent greyhound.
It was a splendid brute, whom people turned about to watch as he
followed his master through the streets.
“One day there was a great tournament in Paris, a very gay and
splendid occasion, and his friends were surprised to see that Aubrey
wasn’t there. They thought this was strange because he had counted
very much on this coming event and had shown the greatest interest
in it. Still they thought that something had detained him, but when
on the second and third days he was also absent, they began to be
worried about him.
“On the fourth morning a great friend of Aubrey, whom we’ll call De
Narsac, heard a scratching at his door. He arose and found there his
friend’s greyhound. The poor brute was wounded and had evidently
been without food for days, so that his ribs almost showed through
his flesh. De Narsac gave him food that he ate as famished. The
appearance of the dog in such a condition deepened his suspicions
that harm had come to his friend. The dog kept running about the
apartment, whining and looking at him imploringly and plainly asking
him to follow. Convinced now that something was wrong, he hastily
dressed and followed him through the streets of Paris. The dog led
him without a moment’s hesitation several miles out into the country
through a forest that had a bad reputation as a resort for thieves
and outlaws. Coming to some freshly disturbed earth under a great oak
tree, he fell upon it and began scratching and whining pitifully. De
Narsac and some friends he had brought with him began to dig and soon
uncovered the murdered body of Aubrey.
“On their return to the city, they met a group of young men on one of
the main streets. As soon as the dog caught sight of one of them he
growled furiously, crouching and then leaped at the man’s throat. The
courtier, whom we’ll call Macaire, beat off the dog with the help of
his friends, but the greyhound made unavailing efforts to renew the
attack.
“The sudden fury of the dog aroused suspicion and a little quiet
investigation showed that sometime before there had been a bitter
quarrel between Aubrey and Macaire.
“The matter came to the ears of the King, who determined to sift the
matter to the bottom. He gave a great function in the royal palace
and so managed that Macaire with a dozen other courtiers stood in a
group at the right hand of the throne. By previous arrangement, De
Narsac entered, accompanied by the greyhound, who, the instant his
eye caught sight of Macaire, made a tremendous bound and bore him
to the floor. It seemed to the King and all present that Providence
had pointed out Aubrey’s murderer. Macaire denied it violently but,
in accordance with the ideas of the time, it was arranged that the
matter should be left to the judgment of heaven. In other words, the
dog and the man were to fight a duel. It was supposed that eternal
justice and wisdom would select the winner. If the dog won, the
murderer of Aubrey stood revealed. If, on the other hand, Macaire
came out victor, he was to be adjudged innocent.
“A duel between a man and a dog!” exclaimed Ben who, with the other
boys, had listened breathlessly to Dick’s story. “That doesn’t seem
fair. How could they fix it so that each would have an even show?”
“Well,” said Dick, “perhaps it wouldn’t be possible to make a thing
of that kind exactly fair and even between a man and a dog, but they
figured it out and made it as fair as they could. The man was armed
with a heavy club and the dog had to rely upon his teeth and claws. A
barrel was provided for him, in which he could take refuge when too
hard pressed and get ready to renew the attack.
“The affair came off before a tremendous crowd. All the leading
people of Paris and the court were present. The instant the dog was
brought in he tugged at the leash and being freed, leaped at his
enemy. Macaire fought with the fury of despair; but the consciousness
of guilt unnerved him and most of his blows beat the air. The dog
returned again and again to the attack and, finally, leaping through
Macaire’s guard, caught him by the throat and threw him to the
ground. He shrieked for help and confessed his guilt. Justice was
keen and quick in those days, and that very night Macaire was led out
to execution. The dog had avenged his master.”
The Scouts drew a long breath as Dick finished his exciting story
and Pete ejaculated, “Well, that certainly was some dog!”
“They thought so at the time,” said Dick, “and put up a monument to
him that can be seen even now.”
“Well,” said Jack, turning to Don, “you’re not so big and strong as
that great greyhound, old fellow, but I bet you know as much, and
no matter what happened to any of us, you would stand by us to the
very end. Wouldn’t you, Don?” and Don, looking eloquently into his
master’s eyes, wig-wagged, “Yes!”