me out shooting parties.
“I was a
favorite with all the gentlemen. I was crazy with delight when I saw the guns
brought out, and would jump up and bite at them. I loved to chase birds and
rabbits, and even now when the pigeons come near me, I tremble all over and
have to turn away lest I should seize them. I used often to be in the woods
from morning till night. I liked to have a hard search after a bird after it
had been shot, and to be praised for bringing it out without biting or injuring
it.
“I never
got lost, for I am one of those dogs that can always tell where human beings
are. I did not smell them. I would be too far away for that, but if my master
was standing in some place and I took a long round through the woods, I knew
exactly where he was, and could make a short cut back to him without returning
in my tracks.
“But I
must tell you about my trouble. One Saturday afternoon a party of young men
came to get me. They had a dog with them, a cocker spaniel called Bob, but they
wanted another. For some reason or other, my master was very unwilling to have
me go. However, he at last consented, and they put me in the back of the wagon
with Bob and the lunch baskets, and we drove off into the country. This Bob was
a happy, merry-looking dog, and as we went along, he told me of the fine time
we should have next day. The young men would shoot a little, then they would
get out their baskets and have something to eat and drink, and would play cards
and go to sleep under the trees, and we would be able to help ourselves to legs
and wings of chickens, and anything we liked from the baskets.
“I did not
like this at all. I was used to working hard through the week, and I liked to
spend my Sundays quietly at home. However, I said nothing.
“That
night we slept at a country hotel, and drove the next morning to the banks of a
small lake where the young men were told there would be plenty of wild ducks.
They were in no hurry to begin their sport. They sat down in the sun on some
flat rocks at the water’s edge, and said they would have something to drink
before setting to work. They got out some of the bottles from the wagon, and
began to take long drinks from them. Then they got quarrelsome and mischievous
and seemed to forget all about their shooting. One of them proposed to have
some fun with the dogs. They tied us both to a tree, and throwing a stick in
the water, told us to get it. Of course we struggled and tried to get free, and
chafed our necks with the rope.
“After a
time one of them began to swear at me, and say that he believed I was gun-shy.
He staggered to the wagon and got out his fowling piece, and said he was going
to try me.
“He loaded
it, went to a little distance, and was going to fire, when the young man who
owned Bob said he wasn’t going to have his dog’s legs shot off, and coming up
he unfastened him and took him away. You can imagine my feelings, as I stood
there tied to the tree, with that stranger pointing his gun directly at me. He
fired close to me, a number of times over my head and under my body. The earth
was cut up all around me. I was terribly frightened, and howled and begged to
be freed.
“The other
young men, who were sitting laughing at me, thought it such good fun that they
got their guns, too. I never wish to spend such a terrible hour again. I was
sure they would kill me. I dare say they would have done so, for they were all
quite drunk by this time, if something had not happened.
“Poor Bob,
who was almost as frightened as I was, and who lay shivering under the wagon,
was killed by a shot by his own master, whose hand was the most unsteady of
all. He gave one loud howl, kicked convulsively, then turned over on his side
and lay quite still. It sobered them all. They ran up to him, but he was quite
dead. They sat for a while quite silent, then they threw the rest of the
bottles into the lake, dug a shallow grave for Bob, and putting me in the wagon
drove slowly back to