He was an ugly grey dog with long silken-soft ears and a bushy tail. He
was born in a splendid stable that belonged to a rich man. This rich
man lived on a large estate in which were fields and meadows. And in
these fields grew sugarcane, in great quantities, great, round, smooth
canes that contained the sweet sugar. On the sugar plantations worked
hundreds of Negroes, men and women, and the Negroes belonged to the
rich man who had bought them in the market as he would buy cattle, for
this story happened long ago, in those days when slavery existed in
America. The rich man could do anything he wished with his slaves. If
he was in a bad mood he would permit them to be whipped; if they dared
to protest against this cruel treatment they were more cruelly
punished—they were stripped naked, smeared with honey, and tied to a
tree. The smell of the honey attracted the bees that came in large
swarms, settled on the body of the slave, sucked the honey and stung
the bound man till he collapsed with pain. Also, the master could sell
his slave, did this frequently, without the least consideration,
tearing mother from child, separating man and wife, sister and brother.
The poor Negroes were completely helpless, they had to work all day
long in the hot sun, received very poor food, lived in wretched huts,
separated from the house of the rich man by a mighty river. Here lived
the Negroes, crowded together; the children played about in front of
these huts, played happily, because they did not yet know that they
were slaves and that a hard, difficult life awaited them.
In one of the Negro huts arrived the little grey dog who had been born
in the splendid stable, and this is how it happened.
Once when the rich man walked through the stable, he noticed the little
grey dog who was playing in the straw. He examined the little dog, and
said angrily to the coachman, “What is this ugly little creature doing
here in my beautiful stable? Take it out, drown it in the river.”
The coachman promised to do this; indeed he pitied the lively little
animal, but the master was strict and he did not dare to disobey the
command. He called the little dog, who came running joyously, and
started toward the river. As he came near the homes of the slaves, a
little black boy ran out of one of the huts and cried, “O, the lovely
little animal! Where are you taking it?” And he ran quite close to them
and patted the dog, who mischievously jumped at him, barking.
“I must drown the dog,” answered the coachman.
At that the eyes of the little boy filled with tears, he took the dog
in his arms, held him close, and begged, “Don’t do it, just see how
darling he is!”
“I must do it, Benjamin. The master has commanded me. If I don’t obey
him he will punish me severely.”
The little grey dog licked Benjamin’s face, looked at him with his
large eyes that seemed to implore him, “Save me, save me!”
“Give me the dog,” pleaded Benjamin. “I will hide him well so that the
master will not see him.”
The coachman thought for a moment, then replied, “Good, you may hide
him. But,” he said warningly, “you must not betray the fact that I have
given him to you. If the master should ever see him, you must say that
you saved him from the river. Then he will give you a bad beating....”
“That doesn’t matter,” cried Benjamin eagerly. “As long as the little
dog is allowed to live.”
The coachman laughed, removed the string from the neck of the dog, and
Benjamin ran to the hut with him, patting him, kissing him, full of
joy. At evening when Benjamin’s parents came home, he showed them the
dog, and the parents also were happy because they had to be away from
home all day and always feared that the little boy might go to the
river, fall in and be drowned. But now he would stay near the huts with
his playfellow, so that he might hide himself quickly in case the rich
man might pass by.
It was as though the little grey dog knew that Benjamin had saved his
life. He did not leave the side of the little boy, obeyed him, and
showed himself to be quite intelligent. Benjamin spoke to him like to a
person, and the dog looked at him as wisely as though he understood
every word.
Benjamin’s parents were young and strong, the best workers on the sugar
plantation. Therefore the severe overseer was satisfied with them and
beat them less often than he did the other slaves. On that account they
were both, in spite of their hard life, satisfied, and in the evenings
when they returned to their hut and their little Benjamin, all three of
them were gay and happy.
Benjamin’s mother Hannah was also an excellent seamstress, she knew how
to weave pretty baskets from reeds and rushes, and was a very good
cook.
One day the eldest daughter of the rich man, who lived with her husband
in the north, come to visit her father. She was glad to see her old
home again and everything seemed to her more beautiful than in the
north. She complained of the trouble she had in getting servants in the
city. “These whites are not nearly as desirable as the blacks,” said
she. “They cannot be driven to work with whips. You should present me
with a good slave, father, so that it will be more comfortable for me.
My husband will be quite angry about it, for the people in the north
are crazy, they claim that the blacks are also human beings, and that
slavery must be abolished. But he loves me dearly, and will be glad if
he sees me happy.”
The rich man thought a while and said, “The young slaves that I own are
all clumsy, incapable; the old ones of course could not become
accustomed to living in a large city and would be more trouble than
help to you. Whom can I give you?”
He considered for a moment, then cried happily, “Now I know, Hannah is
just the right one for you. How could I forget her? Of course, she has
a little boy....”
“I don’t want him,” the daughter interrupted. “My dear little son must
not play with a dirty Negro child. You can keep Hannah’s son here.”
“You are a good mother, my beloved child,” said the rich man, moved.
“You always think of your son. Good, Benjamin shall remain here and
when you go back to the city tomorrow, I will give you Hannah to take
along. I will immediately tell the overseer, so that he may tell her to
be ready.”
And the rich man called a servant and bade him bring the overseer.
Ah, what a sad night that was in the little hut of the Negroes. Poor
Hannah hugged her little son close in her arms and cried as though her
heart would break. Her husband Tom gazed at her with worried eyes and
was so miserable that he could not say a word. Hannah kept looking
anxiously toward the little window, trembling with the fear of seeing
the first ray of light that meant that day was near, when she would
leave her loved ones.
The little grey dog seemed to understand the grief of his friends, he
nestled quite close to Hannah’s coat, looking up at them with loving,
clever eyes. Then Hannah cried loudly, “If they sell you, too, Tom,
what will become of our poor child?” The little dog laid his paw on
little Benjamin as though to say, “Don’t fear, poor mother, I will take
care of him.”
Hannah noticed this, sobbingly patted the shaggy head of the dog, and
said to him, “Guard my little boy, you good dog. We are all as helpless
and deserted as you.”
The following morning, poor Hannah, weeping bitterly, rode off with the
young woman. Her family was not allowed to see her off, for Tom had to
work in the field and Benjamin, like all the slaves, was forbidden to
come near the house of the rich man.
Little Benjamin lived through many sad days. His father was so unhappy
that he no longer wanted to work, and many evenings he would return
home with his back all bloody. Instead of the caressing and joy to
which Benjamin was accustomed there was an unaccustomed silence in the
house. Tom sat sadly on the ground, sometimes stroking sadly the wooly
head of his little son, but never speaking. Only once in a while he
would cry out, “Hannah!” and sigh deeply, while great tears rolled down
his black face. And sometimes he would clench his fist, looking so
angry that Benjamin took the little dog and crawled into a corner with
him.
The overseer was always unsatisfied with Tom, he complained to the
master of the laziness and obstinacy of the slave. Had poor Tom known
the results of his disobedience, he would have worked as industriously
as he used to, in spite of his anger and unhappiness.
The rich man celebrated his birthday. There was a great feast, chickens
and calves and lambs were roasted, rich foods could be smelled all
through the house, the servants brought countless bottles from the
wine-cellar. After supper the young guests danced in the large hall,
the older men seated themselves at a table and began to play cards.
The rich man had no luck, he lost again and again, until at last his
purse was empty. “One more game,” said he to his friend who had won all
the money, “We will gamble for my strongest and best slave.” And he
thought to himself, “If I lose Tom, that will not be a misfortune, for
lately he is lazy and obstinate, anyhow.”
His friend agreed. The whole life and fate of a human being depended
upon a few cards, a bundle of paper. The rich man drew a card, his
friend did the same. They threw the cards on the table. The rich man
had lost.
When Tom came to work the following morning, the overseer told him to
go to the house of the rich man, the master had sold him and his new
master would take him to his estate at once.
That evening Benjamin waited in vain for the return of his father.
Night came, it was quite dark, and his father did not come. Benjamin
sat huddled on the threshold, peering anxiously into the darkness. The
little grey dog lay near him. He was sad and quiet, he seemed to feel
that something was wrong. At last Benjamin could stand it no longer,
ran crying to the hut of a neighbor, and asked about his father. The
stout negress informed him that a strange master had taken Tom with him
that morning; he was sold and would not return.
Benjamin went home crying, afraid of the dark, holding the little dog,
his only friend, tight in his arms. And now something strange happened.
When Benjamin, sobbing, started to tell the little dog of this sorrow,
the dog began to bark softly. But it was not an ordinary bark, but
speech, and Benjamin understood very well the words, “Don’t cry, little
friend, I will take care of you and guard you. And some day we will go
to search for your parents.”
Benjamin was so astonished at this, that he stopped crying. “What!”
cried he, surprised, “you can speak, like a human being?”
The dog shook his shaggy head. “Yes, when the rich people act like wild
beasts against the poor people, we animals must help them. When a human
being is very unhappy and forsaken, he understands our language and
knows that we wish him well. I have not forgotten, little Benjamin,
that you saved my life. I want to thank you. Lie down on the straw,
sleep, I will watch over you.”
A little comforted, the little boy obeyed, and the dog sat down near
him, guarding him all night, licking Benjamin’s hand with his warm
tongue occasionally.
Then came hard times for little Benjamin. The stout lady who was his
neighbor took him to her hut, but she was not good to him. She forced
him to carry water from the river in a heavy bucket, and made him do
all kinds of hard work. And the worst was yet to come. One day the rich
man passed by the huts of the Negroes and saw Benjamin. “A strong boy,”
he said. “He can work in the fields already.” And from then on the
little boy had to work in the fields in the heat of the sun till he
thought he would die of weariness.
At evening, tired, he would crawl into the hut, bury his head in the
hide of the grey dog, cry, and draw comfort from his only friend.
One evening, his back all bloody and his face swollen, Benjamin came
home. The overseer had been in a bad temper, had beaten the little boy
with a whip and hit him in the face with his fist.
“I want to die,” cried Benjamin, while the dog softly and gently licked
his wounds. “I can’t stand it any longer. My parents are gone, I am
entirely deserted, everyone is unkind to me. Dog, dear dog, what shall
I do?”
“Run away,” replied the dog.
“Where to? They will catch me and beat me again.”
The dog thought hard for a while.
“We must go north,” said he at last. “There people are better than they
are here. They do not want the Negroes to be slaves. We must run away
there.”
“I don’t know the way,” complained Benjamin.
“I will lead you. Morning and night, when everybody is asleep, we will
go.”
And so it happened. The moon was a small white sickle in the sky, the
great trees tossed weird, black shadows on the earth, all was deathly
quiet, only once in a while the leaves rustled sleepily. Benjamin and
the dog ran softly on their tiptoes, out of the hut, and went toward
the great river. All night they wandered along the side of the river,
and when morning came the dog looked for a safe hiding place, for the
short legs of little Benjamin had not carried him very far, and there
was still the danger that the servants of the rich man might trace him.
While the dog was running restlessly back and forth to find a safe
place, Benjamin sat on the bank of the river, letting his tired,
burning feet hang in the water. Suddenly he was dreadfully frightened
and drew his feet back hastily. A large pointed head thrust itself
through the water, a gigantic mouth opened, showing two rows of
dreadful teeth, and a deep voice growled, “A fine morsel, just right
for breakfast.”
Benjamin screamed aloud and the dog came running quickly to him. Though
he was himself a little frightened, he whispered to Benjamin, “That is
an alligator. Step back and let me speak to him.”
The little boy obeyed and the dog addressed himself with cajoling
courtesy to the alligator, saying, “Excuse us for having come to your
kingdom, mighty lord of the river, but we are fleeing from evil people
and know that you with your power will be good enough to defend us.”
The alligator felt flattered, drew his gigantic mouth into a friendly
grin, and replied politely, “You are a clever animal. I am truly more
mighty than people, and,” he agreed pensively, “neither are we as bad
as they. But this creature that sat with his feet hanging in the water
is also a human being. Then why is he running away from his brothers?”
And the shiny, greenish eyes of the alligator looked distrustfully at
the dog.
“You surely know, wise and mighty animal, that the rich people are
merciless to the poor, as though they were the wildest beasts. That is
because there is no more greedy animal than this man. He is never
satisfied, he always wants more: food and drink and houses, but above
all, gold. That makes him so mean. My little friend is a poor child who
must work for a rich man. He was torn away from his parents, and beaten
until the blood flowed. I advised him to run away. And now we beg that
you help us, for any moment the servants of the rich man may appear and
capture my little friend.”
The alligator shook his pointed head thoughtfully and said: “People are
peculiar creatures. No alligator would torment a little alligator,
neither do we know the difference between rich and poor, and still it
is said that we are evil animals. It is true that I would like to eat
your little friend for breakfast, yet I will be merciful to him. I will
also show you a safe hiding place. Do you see that little island? The
servants of the rich man will not find you there.”
“We thank you, mighty animal; but how can we reach the island? The
water is rough and deep, and my little friend can’t swim.”
“I will carry you over on my back,” answered the alligator.
Benjamin and the dog seated themselves on the scaly back of the animal,
and it began to swim. What a strange journey that was! The waves played
over the back of the alligator and the dog was afraid that the
alligator might change his mind and eat both of them for breakfast. For
that reason he spoke continuously to the alligator, flattered him,
praised his goodness and declared solemnly that the alligators are the
noblest animals in the world. This trick did not fail in its purpose.
When they landed on the island, the alligator called twelve of the
strongest alligators to him, instructing them that they must not harm a
hair on the boy or the dog, that they were his guests. He also
commanded them to swim along the bank of the river and stand guard,
keeping the people from coming to the island. This was well done, for
when the sun was high in the heavens, five men appeared, sent by the
rich man to look for Benjamin. One pointed to the island, started to go
into the water, when an immense alligator pushed his head out of the
water and the man crept back. “He can’t be there,” said the man to his
companions. “The alligators here must have eaten him.”
Benjamin and the dog rested all day on the island. The little boy ate
the sweet berries that grew there, drank from a well, and at evening
the alligator carried them back again to the bank and bade them a
friendly farewell.
Today traveling was more difficult than it had been yesterday, for
Benjamin’s feet were blistered, he groaned and complained at every
step. The dog comforted him, encouraged him, let him ride on his back a
little while though the boy was too heavy and after a few minutes the
dog’s bones would crack and he would have to lie down. Deep sorrow
tormented the dog, surely the servants of the rich man were somewhere
in the neighborhood, determined not to return home without the boy. And
even if they were not found, how far was it to the north? How will we
get there if Benjamin is already too tired to go further?
Toward midnight they suddenly saw a fire burning on a meadow. People
must be there. The dog dragged the boy into some thick bushes, told him
to keep still, crept softly toward the fire. A pot hung over the fire,
and a blond man sat before it. Close by stood a wagon with large
wheels, to which a brown horse was harnessed. The dog looked at the man
very searchingly. He looked different from the people at home, had a
very light skin, kind blue eyes; surely he was a northerner. But was he
a good man? Then the dog remembered that only very good people
understand the language of animals, and the dog decided to tell him the
story of little Benjamin. Carefully he came closer to the fire and said
softly, “Good evening, man. Are you a northerner?”
The man looked at him in surprise, but, oh joy, he had understood the
words and answered, “Good evening, my friend. Yes, I am a northerner.
Do you want to eat something? My supper will soon be ready.”
“I am not hungry,” replied the dog. “But I want some help.” And then he
told the story of little Benjamin.
The blond man became red with anger and his eyes sparkled. This made
the dog happy. “He is really a good man,” thought he, “for only good
people are angered by the sufferings of other people.” When he was
through speaking, the man said, “Bring your little friend here quickly.
My horse has rested enough. We will ride off immediately so that no one
can capture Benjamin.”
How happy the little grey dog was! In spite of his weariness, he danced
with joy, wagging his tail, and started toward the bushes where
Benjamin was hidden. Then he saw something dreadful. A man came over
the meadow with a dog, which ran straight towards the bushes. The grey
dog howled with fright. The blond man looked up, jumped forward and
called to the dog, “Keep the man back just a moment, and all will yet
be well.” At that the dog ran toward the man. The man had reached the
bush, with one bound the dog leaped at his throat, bit it hard, did not
loosen his hold in spite of cuts and blows.
In the meantime the northerner had taken little Benjamin in his arms,
ran hastily toward the wagon, jumped in, and called to the dog, “Follow
us, we will wait for you in a safe place.” Then he cracked his whip,
started on the road, the brown horse galloped ahead for it knew
everything that was going on.
The grey dog still gripped the man’s throat, thinking every moment that
if he could detain the man, it would be an advantage to the good man
and little boy, and would save his friend. But the man, tired of
wrestling, took a large knife from his pocket and plunged it deep into
the breast of the faithful dog. The dog whimpered piteously and fell
heavily to the ground. His clouded eyes still saw, far off in the
distance, a tiny spot that kept growing smaller and smaller; that was
the wagon which was carrying little Benjamin to freedom.
Great joy filled the dog’s heart. He wagged his bushy tail once more.
Then he died.
The blond man and little Benjamin waited a long time in vain for the
grey dog. Benjamin wept bitterly, and his new friend comforted him:
“The brave dog will come running back. All is well with him.”
But though Benjamin was safe, he was always sad when he thought of his
friend. But he did not know that the little grey dog had died for him,
paying his debt of gratitude to Benjamin with his life.