“We were trying to get to the hut. Seppi said it would be a dreadful storm. Czar was a little in front, and the goats had run down far ahead. There had been one awful flash, and everything was dark and smelt as if the giant had been mixing his chemicals down in his cavern and had had an explosion; and then just as we got nearly down to the bridge there came another worse one, and such a clap of thunder! It made me hide my eyes, and when I looked up Czar was just tumbling over. Seppi said he had been struck—he had seen it. He has seen things like that before. He was dead in a moment. Seppi said it did not hurt him.”
“Poor old fellow!” said Uncle Ronald softly. But whether he meant the dog or the boy he did not explain.
Squib was silent for several moments, and then burst out again,—
“We buried him with military honours. I took my flag, and there was a gun in the cottage, and Seppi’s mother let Peter fire it over his grave. Seppi has made a headstone, and Ann-Katherin has planted some flowers on it. I’ll take you to see it some day.”
“All right, old chap; I’ll go and drop a tear for our faithful old friend Czar. But you must have had rather a narrow shave yourself, youngster. How far off were you when this happened?”
“Not very far. Czar always kept near me. Seppi thinks about twenty metres. That’s what mother said. She cried when I told her, and I thought she was crying for Czar; but she said they were partly tears of joy, because I hadn’t been hurt—nor Seppi.”
Uncle Ronald’s face was grave as he drew the child towards him. He, too, felt that he had come very near to losing his small nephew.
“I think I might have been killed but for Seppi,” pursued Squib. “He made me come back with him when he knew the storm would be bad; and it was worse up the hill where I should have gone if he hadn’t said I must come with him. Lots of trees were struck. They are lying about still right across the path. I shouldn’t have known what to do; but Seppi did. Seppi knows a great deal about the mountains. He is a very nice boy. We are great friends.”
At this moment Colonel Rutland appeared, and his greeting to Squib showed that he, too, had heard the story of the boy’s narrow escape, and was feeling some considerable emotion at the thought of it.
Squib soon found himself telling the story of the adventure in detail, and how kind Seppi’s mother had been in drying his clothes and keeping him warm by the stove all the time; and how Peter had set off in the pouring rain, directly it was safe to leave the hut, to take word to the chalet that he was safe, and to bring him down some dry garments, for his own were not fit to put on till the next day.