He lifted his head and sent out the cry of his forefathers, so that the echoes rang again and again. The answering voices died away, there was no sound save the swish of melting snow that slipped down the steep places, and then Prince Jan, St. Bernard, turned and trotted up the trail to the home of his ancestors.
Brother Antoine waited on the top step. As the dog reached him, the monk stooped and patted him, whispering softly, "It is not easy, Prince Jan, when the paths that Love and Duty travel lie far apart."
And so Prince Jan came back to the work of his ancestors, and as the months passed by he saved many lives and was very happy. The young dogs listened in respectful wonder when he told of the strange places and things that he had found in the Land of No Snow. They learned from him the lessons of obedience, loyalty, and kindliness.
"If you do the very best you know how, it will always work out right in the end," Jan ended each talk.
But sometimes at night as he slept among the other dogs, he saw the captain walking about a room. Cheepsie was perched on the old man's shoulder, while Hippity-Hop skipped beside them, and the dog-knew that they were thinking of him.
Then Jan's ears cocked up, his tail swished gently on the stone floor of the Hospice, for in his dreams he heard the faint sound of a quavering voice singing:
"Old dog Tray is ever faithful,
Grief cannot drive him away.
He's gentle and he's kind
And you'll never, never find
A better friend than old dog Tray."