“What’s he shaking his fist for?” inquired Paul, pointing to the herdsman’s left hand. “Is he so mad because he can’t catch Ursa Major?”
Uncle Henry did not reply, but drew two long lines from the uplifted hand downward to a point just below the end of the big bear’s tail.
“Oh, I know!” piped Betty, and throwing herself on her back, she began to star-gaze industriously.
Peter and Paul looked at each other inquiringly.
“The dogs!” said Peter. “Betty’s looking for them. They’re on leash of course. Those lines are the leashes.”
Uncle Henry smiled his pleasure.
“The hunting dogs—or, as you would say it in Latin, Canes Venatici, are largely imaginary. There are six stars—three in each dog, and all faint except one, named Cor Caroli.”
“I see the bright one!” said Peter, and put down a fair-sized pebble to represent it. When the children had found the five other faint stars and Uncle Henry had finished drawing the dogs, Boötes and his hunting hounds, Asterion and Chara, looked like this.
