The Adventures of a Dog, and a Good Dog Too

by Alfred Elwes

When my mind was able to believe the truth, I sprang on to the solid land with a cry which rings in my ears even now. What though my weakness was so great that I tumbled over on to the beach and filled my mouth with sand? I could have licked every blade of grass, every stone, in my ecstacy; and when forced to lie down from inability to stand upon my legs, I drove my paws into the earth, and held up portions to my face, to convince myself that I was indeed on shore. I did not trouble myself much with questions as to how I got there. I did not puzzle my brain to inquire whether the wind which had risen the evening before, and which I felt driving me on so freely, had at length chased me to the land. All I seemed to value was the fact that I was indeed there; and all I could persuade myself to say or think was the single, blessed word, saved!

I must have lain some time upon the sand before I tried again to move, for when I scrambled on to my legs the sun was high and hot—so hot, that it had completely dried my coat, and made me wish for shelter. Dragging myself with some trouble to a mound of earth, green and sparkling with grass and flowers, I managed to get on top of it; and when I had recovered from the effort, for I was very weak, looked about me with curiosity to observe the place where I had been thrown.

The ground was level close to where I stood, but at a little distance it rose into gentle grassy hills, with short bushes here and there; and just peeping over them, were the tops of trees still farther off, with mountains beyond, of curious forms and rich blue colour.

While considering this prospect, I suddenly observed an animal on one of the hills coming towards me, and I lay down at full length on the grass to examine who he might be. As he drew nearer, I was surprised at his form and look (I afterwards learnt that he was called an ape), and thought I had never beheld so queer a being. He had a stick in his right hand, and a bundle in his left, and kept his eyes fixed on the ground as he walked along.

When he was quite close, I rose again, to ask him where I could procure food and water, of which I felt great want. The motion startled him; and stepping back, he took his stick in both hands as if to protect himself. The next moment he put it down, and coming up to me, to my surprise addressed me in my own language, by inquiring how I came there. My astonishment was so great at first that I could not reply; and when I did speak, it was to ask him how it happened that he used my language. To this he answered, that he had been a great traveller in his day, and among other places had visited my city, where he had studied and been treated kindly for a long time; that he loved dogs, and should be only too happy now to return some of the favours he had received. This speech opened my heart; but before he would let me say more, he untied his bundle, and spread what it contained before me. As there were several savoury morsels, you may believe I devoured them with great appetite—indeed, I hope Master Ximio's opinion of me was not formed from the greediness with which I ate up his provisions.

After I had refreshed myself at a spring of water, we sat down, and I told him my story. He heard me patiently to the end, when, after a pause, he exclaimed—

"Come, Job, come with me. A few days' rest will restore your strength, and you can return to your own city. It is not a long journey over land; and with stout limbs like those, you will soon be able to get back and lick old Nip again."

I need not dwell upon this part of my story, although I could fill many pages with the narration of Master Ximio's dwelling, and above all of his kindness; he kept me two or three days at his house, and would have detained me much longer, but, besides that I was anxious to return to Nip, I felt certain pains in my limbs, which made me wish to get back to Caneville, as I did not like the idea of troubling my good friend with the care of a sick dog. He was so kind-hearted, however, and showed me such attention, that I was afraid to say anything about my aches, lest he should insist on keeping me. He seemed to think it was quite natural I should desire to get home; and when he saw my impatience to depart, he assisted to get me ready.

Having supplied me with everything I could want on my journey, and pressed upon me many gifts besides, he led me by a little path through the wood, until we came to the sea. "Along this shore," he said, "your road lies. Follow the winding of the coast until you reach the mouth of a broad river, the waters of which empty themselves into the sea. That river is the same which runs through your city. Keep along its banks and you will shortly arrive at Caneville, where I hope you may find everything you wish—for I am sure you wish nothing that is unreasonable. If pleasure awaits you there, do not, in the midst of it, forget Ximio. If, against my hopes, you should find yourself unhappy, remember there is a home always open to you here, and a friend who will do his best to make you forget sorrow. Farewell!"

I was greatly moved at his words and the memory of his kindness. We licked each other tenderly—murmured something, which meant a good deal more than it expressed—and then we parted. I turned my head often as I went, and each time beheld Ximio waving his hand in the air; at last a dip in the ground hid him from my sight, and I continued my journey alone.