“Well,” said Jack, “those seem to me like queer pets for a man to have, but after all I don’t know that they are any queerer than poor old Swift Foot that I used to have.”
“No,” said Hugh, “any tame wild animal may seem strange to a person who never has seen a tame one before, but any wild animal can be tamed, and if he’s taken young enough he won’t have any fear of man. The trouble is, though, to make him stay tame. He’s naturally shy, and while he may be all right when his owner’s around, if he gets among strange people, the natural fear that he’s inherited from his ancestors will come back to him, and he’ll run.”
“That’s what happened to poor old Swift Foot, I am afraid,” said Jack.
“What Swift Foot?” said Joe. “I never heard about that.”
“Why, haven’t I ever told you about him, Joe?” said Jack. “Four or five years ago, the first year I was in the West, we dug out a den of wolves and kept the puppies, and some of them became very tame. I took one back East with me and had him two or three years. He was just like a dog with me and felt at home with all the other people in the house, but I never dared let him loose on the streets, for fear he would get lost. In the country, when I went there, I’d turn him loose and he would run—Great Scott! you never saw anything so wild to run as he was. Then, when I’d bring him back to the city again I’d have to keep him chained and give him what little exercise I could on a chain. Of course, he grew awfully fat, and I think if I’d had him much longer he’d have gotten cross, too; but finally, one unlucky day, I took him out walking, and over near Third Avenue, a crowded street where there is a great deal of noise and the elevated railroad trains are running all the time, something frightened him and he dodged behind me and gave a pull on the chain, and it pulled loose from his collar, and before I could grab him he got frightened and ran. He ran like a deer, dodging among the trucks and horses and cars, and though I called and whistled he never stopped, and I never saw him again. Father advertised, and we tried our best to hear something of him, but it was no use.”
“I don’t wonder he got scared,” said Joe. “I guess I’d be scared a whole lot with so many people round me, and no place to get away.”
“You’re right,” said Hugh, “so would I. It must be something terrible in those big cities.”
“Well,” said Jack, “it is terrible the way the people crowd about. Of course, those who live there are used to it and don’t pay any attention, but people that haven’t been used to hearing the noises and seeing the crowds, could easily enough get scared.”
A little later Hugh rose to his feet and stepped out of the tent, saying as he did so, “Boys, I believe we’re going to have a nice day to-morrow. It’s stopped snowing, all the stars are out and the moon is just rising. It feels mighty warm, too. Likely enough to-morrow the sun will come out hot and take off the heft of this snow. Then we can get round a bit and can dry this meat.”
“Well,” said Jack, “I’d like to be able to dry our meat. Of course, there’s no trouble killing meat here, but one doesn’t want to kill a big animal for a single meal.”