One of the chief difficulties with regard to the creature was that he was so fierce when chained up that it was hardly safe to approach him, either to give him his food or to let him loose when the time for his daily run had arrived. Colonel Rutland was having a place made for him where he could be shut up without being chained, which he hoped would tend to the humanizing and taming of him; but, meantime, he had to be fastened up in the yard when not at large, and Colonel Rutland made a point of both chaining and loosing him himself—although it was not without misgiving that he approached the great brute straining on his chain, and glaring out at the world with red, defiant eyes.
One day, as he was approaching the kennel, liking the looks of the dog rather less even than usual, he stood meditating at a short distance as to whether it were really safe to keep such a fierce animal on the premises, and whether he might not be running a foolish risk in going near him. He was startled by the sound of a small voice proceeding from an invisible questioner quite near at hand.
“Father,” said the little voice, “shall I let Czar out for you?”
Colonel Rutland looked up, and looked down, and looked round about him, and again came the sound of the small voice, saying,—
“I’m in Czar’s kennel, father.”
The Colonel had certainly never thought of looking in such a place for the speaker. Now, turning his startled glance in that direction, he saw Squib sitting curled up on the clean straw in the huge kennel, looking out from his nest with a friendly smile.
For a moment the fathers heart stood still. Suppose the great brute should turn and see him! It was with difficulty he commanded his voice to say quietly, whilst himself striving to attract the notice of the dog, “Come out, Squib; come very quietly.”
But the child never heard the last words; he jumped up at once and made an outward bound, flinging himself upon the dog as he did so, and throwing his arms about his neck.
“Oh, father, if you would only let me have Czar to go out with me sometimes! We should have such fun together!”
At the touch of those small childish hands the aspect of the dog changed at once. The lifted crest along his back smoothed down, the red light in his eyes changed altogether, the fierce bay ceased, for the creature was engaged in licking the child’s hands and face, and in fondling him with evident delight. The father looked on in amaze, and when Squib repeated his question, “Shall I let him out now?” he gave his assent rather by sign than by word, so great was his surprise at what he saw.