While we were arguing, the time came when I usually left the town for the day, and the immediate thing to be done was to get her away from that place and out into the woods. Then, I thought, I could prevent her going back into the town; so by pointing out to her that, if she wanted to, she could come back at any time, I persuaded her to move, and we started off through the buildings on the road that I usually took back to the forest. But at the first step we were reminded of her chain, which was still attached to her collar, and dragged along the ground as she walked. It was a nuisance, but there was no way to get it off at the moment. Perhaps, when we were safe away and had plenty of time, we could find some way of loosening it, but at present the first thing was to get clear of the town.
So we started, but the path was new to Kahwa, who, of course, had never been away from the pen and the door of the building where her master lived, and had seen nothing of the town except as she was being dragged in by the men who had caught her, and then she had been too busy fighting to pay any attention to her surroundings. So at almost every step she must needs stop to smell something. Meanwhile it was getting lighter, and we began to hear noises of men moving about inside the buildings. Once a door opened, and I only just had time to dodge back and keep Kahwa behind as a man stepped out into the air. But we succeeded in reaching the very edge of the town before anything serious happened.
The houses were all made of wood, those in the middle, like that where Kahwa had lived, being of boards nailed together, and those on the outskirts of logs laid upon each other whole, with the bark still on, like the first houses that we had seen up the river. There was one of this last kind in particular, which stood away from all the others almost inside the forest. It was the first house that I came to each evening on approaching the town, and the last one that I passed on leaving it; but I always gave it a wide berth, because there was a dog there—a small dog, it is true, but a noisy one—and the first time that I came that way he had seen me, and made such a fuss that I had to bolt back into the forest and wait a long time before I dared to go on again.
Now, however, Kahwa insisted on going up to snuff around this house. I warned her of the dog, but the truth was that she had grown accustomed to dogs, and I think had really lost her fear of men. So she went close up to the house, and began smelling round the walls to see if there was anything good to eat, while I stood back under the trees fretting and impatient of her delay.
Having sniffed all along one side of the house, she passed round the corner to the back. In turning the corner she came right upon the dog, who flew at her at once, though he was not much bigger than her head. Whether she was accustomed to dogs or not, the sudden attack startled her, and she turned round to run back to me. In doing so she just grazed the corner of the house, and the next instant she was rolling head over heels on the ground. The end of her chain had caught in the crack between the ends of two of the logs at the corner, and she was held as firmly as if she had been tied to her stump in front of the door. As she rolled over, the dog jumped upon her, small as he was, yelping all the time, and barking furiously. I thought it would only be a momentary delay, but the chain held fast, and all the while the dog’s attacks made it impossible for her to give her attention to trying to tear it free.
A minute later, and the door of the house burst open, and a man came running out, carrying, to my horror, a thunder-stick in his hand. Kahwa and the dog were all mixed up together on the ground, and I saw the man stop and stand still a moment and point the thunder-stick at her. And then came that terrible noise of the thunder-stick speaking.
Too frightened to see what happened, I took to my heels, and plunged into the wood as fast as I could, without the man or the dog having seen me. I ran on for some distance till I felt safe enough to stop and listen, but there was not a sound, and no sign of Kahwa coming after me. I waited and waited until the sun came up, and still there was no sign of Kahwa, until at last I summoned up courage to steal slowly back again. As I came near I heard the dog barking at intervals, and then the voices of men. Very cautiously I crept near enough to get a view of the house from behind, and as I came in sight of the corner where Kahwa had fallen I saw her for the second time—just as on that wretched evening at the berry-patch—surrounded by a group of three or four men. But this time they had no ropes round her, and were not trying to drag her away; only they stood talking and looking down at her, while she lay dead on the ground before them.