Story 2 -- Chapter 2.
Faithful Moses—A Short Story—(contd).
So from this time there was a van-dog as well as a van-boy; three “mates” travelling in the cart between Roydon and London—Joshua, Tim, and Moses, for after much consideration that was the name given to the dog.
It was wonderful to see how, after a few weeks of food and kindness, he “plucked up a spirit,” as Joshua said. His whole aspect altered, for he now held his ears and tail valiantly erect, and quite a martial gleam appeared in his eye. He still, it is true, limped about on three legs, which is never a dignified attitude for a dog, but he already began to acquire distinct views concerning the parcels and the cart, and was ready to defend them, with hair bristling, and lips fiercely drawn back from glistening white teeth.
“Not a beauty,” Joshua had said, and decidedly a mongrel according to the landlord. Nobody could doubt that; but to Tim’s eyes Moses wanted no attractions, he was perfect. Many and many a confidence was poured into his small, upright, attentive ear, as the two sat so close together at the back of the cart; Tim never considered whether he understood or not, but it was such a comfort to tell him about things. The cold nights were comparatively easy to bear, now that he could put his arm round Moses’ hairy form and feel that he was warm and comfortable; meals became more interesting though slighter than they used to be, now that they must be shared by Moses, who watched every morsel with bright expectant eyes. Then he must be taught, and this was not difficult, for ready intelligence and eager affection made him a good scholar; all he wanted was to know what was really required of him. This once understood and successfully performed, what an ecstasy of delight followed on the part of both master and pupil, shown by the former in caresses, and by the latter in excited barks, and short quick rushes among the parcels.
As his education proceeded he learnt to distinguish all the different sounds of Tim’s voice, and would sit on guard for any length of time if once told to do so. When on duty in this way, a more conscientious dog could not have been found, for not even the urgent temptation of a cat-chase could lure him from his post—although, sometimes, a short cry of anguish would be wrung from him at being obliged to forego such a pleasure.
Joshua he regarded with a distant respect, Tim with intense affection, and the landlord of the Magpie and Stump with ill-concealed growls of aversion, though the latter tried to ingratiate himself by savoury offerings of food. Moses would walk stiffly away from him with his tail held very high, and the landlord would laugh sarcastically. “You’re a nice sample, you are,” he would say, “and as ugly a mongrel as ever I see—”
As time went on, Tim began to place great reliance on the dog’s trustworthiness, and to look upon him as quite equal to another boy. He knew that he had only to hold up his ringer and say, “Watch, Moses!” and the dog’s vigilant attention was secure; trusting in this, therefore, he felt it by no means so necessary as formerly to be very watchful himself, and began to take life much more easily. In the evening, when Joshua stopped to deliver a parcel, Tim would rouse himself from a comfortable nap, and just murmur, “Watch, Moses!” then woe to anyone who ventured too near Moses and his property.
Now this division of labour, or rather this shifting of responsibility on to another’s shoulders, had its bad results, for while the dog improved every day in sharpness and conscientious performance of duty, the boy did the opposite. Tim became somewhat careless and lazy, and though Joshua knew nothing of it, he did not really fill his post half so well as before the dog came; he allowed things to get slack. Now, whether one is a van-boy or a lord-chancellor this is bad, for slackness leads to neglect, and neglect to worse things. You shall hear what happened in Tim’s case.
One evening the carrier’s cart was standing in a little back street in the Borough waiting for Joshua; he had matters to settle, he told Tim, which might take him an hour or more, and he added:
“Look alive, now, for it’s a nasty neighbourhood to be standing about in, and there’s some smallish parcels in the cart easy made off with. Don’t you let your eye off ’em.”
Tim promised, and, taking his seat on the edge of the cart with his legs swinging, whistled to Moses, who was examining the neighbourhood in an interested manner; he at once jumped up beside his master and assumed a gravely watchful and responsible air.
It was not an amusing street, but poor and squalid, full of small lodging-houses, and little dingy shops; very few people were about, and in spite of Joshua’s warning no one seemed even to notice the carrier’s cart.
Presently there walked slowly by, whistling carelessly, a boy about Tim’s own age; he was quite respectably, though poorly dressed, and wore his cap very much on one side with an air of smartness which Tim thought becoming. He stopped and looked at the boy and the dog, and they looked at him, Moses ready to be suspicious, and Tim to be conversational if required.
For some minutes the group remained in silent contemplation, then the new-comer said inquiringly:
“Fer dog?”
“Ah,” said Tim, nodding his head.
“Up to snuff, ain’t he?” said the other boy.
Tim nodded again, this time in a more friendly manner.
“Wot’s his name?”
“Moses.”
“Yer give it him?”
“Ah.”
“Where’s yer boss?” (meaning master).
“Yonder,” with a backward movement of the head.
The boy leant his back against a lamp-post near, and seemed in no hurry to pursue his journey; Tim was not sorry, for a little conversation beguiled the time, and his remark about Moses showed this to be an intelligent and discerning youth.
“Wot can he do?” he asked presently, still with his eye on the dog.
Tim ran through a list of Moses’ acquirements eagerly, and finished up with: “And he can watch the parcels as well as a Christian—he wouldn’t let no one but me or Joshua come nigh ’em, not for anything.”
“Wouldn’t he now?” said the boy admiringly.
“You try,” suggested Tim, anxious to show off Moses’ talents.
The stranger came a little nearer, and stretched out his hand as if to touch one of the parcels; he quickly withdrew it, however, for Moses’ bristling mane and angry growl were sufficient warnings of his further intentions. Both boys laughed, Tim triumphantly, and he patted the dog with an air of proud proprietorship.
“There’s a Punch and Judy playin’ in the next street,” remarked the stranger, “and they’ve got a dorg some’at like yours, he’s a clever un he is—wouldn’t you like to see him?”
“I’ve seen ’em—scores o’ times,” said Tim loftily.
“Not such a good un as this, I lay. You come and see. It wouldn’t take you not two minutes, and your dog’ll watch the things.”
“No,” said Tim very quickly and decidedly, “I can’t leave the cart.”
“You don’t trust the dog much, then. You’ve bin humbuggin’ about him, I bet.”
“That I haven’t,” said Tim angrily, “I could trust him not to stir for hours.”
“I should just like to see yer,” sneered the boy—“I don’t b’lieve yer dare leave ’im a minute. Well, I wouldn’t keep a stupid cur like that!”
The taunt was more than Tim could bear. He knew that Moses would come triumphantly out of the ordeal, and besides, he would really like to go and see the clever Punch’s dog in the next street; Joshua was safe for another half-hour, and the place looked so quiet and deserted. It must be safe. He would go.
He jumped down from the cart, and spoke to Moses in a certain voice:
“Watch, Moses!” he said, pointing to the parcels.
The dog looked wistfully at his master, as though suspecting something wrong or unusual, but he did not attempt to follow him; he lay down with his nose between his paws, his short ears pricked, and his bright eyes keenly observant. Then the two boys set off running down the street together, and were soon out of his sight.
Half an hour later, Joshua, his business over, turned into the street where he had left his cart. There it stood still, with the horses’ heads turned towards him; but what was that choking savage growl which met his ear? Surely that was Moses’ voice, though strangely stifled.
With a hoarsely muttered oath Joshua quickened his pace to a run, stretched out his powerful arm, and seized hold of a boy about Tim’s size, who, with several parcels in his arms, was trying in vain to escape. In vain—because, hanging fast on to one leg, with resolute grip and starting fiery eyes, was the faithful Moses. Every separate hair of his rough coat bristled with excitement and rage, his head was bleeding from a wound made by a kick or a blow, and he uttered all the time the half-strangled growls which Joshua had heard.
And where was Tim? Oh, sad falling off! Tim had deserted his post; he had proved less faithful than the dog Moses.
When a few minutes later he came hurrying back breathless, there were no traces of what had happened, except on Joshua’s enraged red countenance and Moses’ bleeding head. The strange boy, who had so easily beguiled him, had been quickly handed over to a policeman. And there were no parcels missing—thanks to Moses, but not, alas, to Tim.
Disgraced and miserable, he stood before the angry Joshua, silent in the midst of a torrent of wrathful words. He deserved every one of them. Instant dismissal without a character was all he had to expect, and he waited trembling for his fate. But, behold, an unlooked-for intercessor! Moses, seeing Joshua’s threatening attitude and his dear master’s downcast face, drew near to help him, and, as was his custom, stood up and put his paw on the boy’s arm. Joshua looked at the dog; his silent presence pleaded eloquently in Tim’s favour, and the angry tone was involuntarily softened.
“If ever a boy deserved the sack, it’s you,” he said; “and, as sure as my name’s Joshua, you should have it if it wasn’t for that dog o’ yourn. He’s worth a score o’ boys, that dog is, for he does his dooty, as well as knows what it is.”
Tim breathed again; he flung his arms round Moses’ neck, who licked his face eagerly.
“Give us another chance,” he cried imploringly, “we’ll both work so hard, Moses and me, and I’ll never leave the cart again. If you only won’t turn us off I’ll work without wage ever so long, that I will.”
“That, in course, you will,” said Joshua grimly, yet relenting, “and you’ll get a jolly good thrashing besides. And if you’re not turned off you’ve got the dog to thank.”
He got up into his seat as he spoke, and Tim crept thankfully in at the back of the cart with Moses. He had, indeed, “got the dog to thank.” Moses had paid his debt of gratitude now; he and Tim were equal.
You will be glad to hear that Tim was not dismissed, and that he used his other “chance” well, for no amount of sharp London boys could have tempted him from his duty again. As for Moses, he was respected and trusted by everyone on the road after this, and Joshua presented him with a collar, whereon were inscribed his name and the date of the memorable fray in which he acquitted himself so well. In spite of these honours, however, all the love of his faithful heart continued to be given to Tim; who, on his part, never forgot how it was and why it was that he had “got the dog to thank.”