“Yes, if courage and presence of mind attend its uses,” replied Mr Campbell. “John, I am very much pleased with your conduct.”
“Mother called me naughty,” replied John rather sulkily.
“Yes, John, I called you naughty, for not telling us the wolf was dead, and leaving us to suppose that your cousins were in danger; not for killing the wolf. Now I kiss you, and thank you for your bravery and good conduct.”
“I shall tell all the officers at the fort, what a gallant little fellow you are, John,” said Captain Sinclair; “there are very few of them who have shot a wolf, and what is more, John, I have a beautiful dog, which one of the officers gave me the other day in exchange for a pony, and I will bring it over, and make it a present to you for your own dog. He will hunt anything, and he is very powerful—quite able to master a wolf, if you meet with one. He is half mastiff and half Scotch deerhound, and he stands as high as this,” continued Captain Sinclair, holding his hand about as high as John’s shoulder.
“I’ll go to the fort with you,” said John, “and bring him back.”
“So you shall, John, and I’ll go with you,” said Martin, “if master pleases.”
“Well,” replied Mr Campbell, “I think he may; what with Martin, his own rifle, and the dog, John will, I trust, be safe enough.”
“Certainly, I have no objection,” said Mrs Campbell, “and many thanks to you, Captain Sinclair.”
“What’s the dog’s name?” said John.
“Oscar,” replied Captain Sinclair. “If you let him walk out with your cousins, they need not fear a wolf. He will never be mastered by one, as poor Sancho was.”