“Ask him if he can catch a rhinoceros for us,” said Mr. Tarkowski.
It is true Saba could not answer this question, but he wagged his tail still harder and rubbed himself up against them so confidingly that Nell suddenly lost all fear and began to stroke his head.
“Saba, dear, good Saba!”
Mr. Rawlison bent down over him, raised his head toward the little girl’s face, and said:
“Saba, look at this little lady. She is your mistress. You must obey and protect her—do you understand?”
“Wurgh!” Saba was heard to say in a deep bass, as if he really understood what was wanted of him.
And he did understand even better than one would imagine, for he took advantage of his head being nearly on a level with the girl’s face to lick her little nose and cheeks with his broad tongue as a sign of allegiance.
That made every one laugh. Nell had to go into the tent to wash her face. When she returned after a quarter of an hour she saw that Saba had laid his paws on Stasch’s shoulders, and that Stasch bent under the weight. The dog was a head taller than he.
Meanwhile bedtime had arrived, but the little girl begged to be allowed to talk for another half-hour to get better acquainted with her new friend. And they became friends so soon that it was not long before Mr. Tarkowski placed her on his back, as ladies ride. She was afraid of falling off, so he held her, and told Stasch to lead the dog by the collar. After she had ridden a short distance Stasch tried to mount this peculiar saddle-horse, but the latter quickly sat on his hind legs and Stasch unexpectedly found himself on the sand.
The children were just about going to bed when from afar off, on the moon-lit public square, two white figures appeared, running toward the tent.