Rick and Ruddy: The Story of a Boy and His Dog

by Howard Roger Garis

And no sooner had Rick told Ruddy to jump down into the snow hole with him than he wished he had not done so.

"If Ruddy comes down here," thought Rick, "he can't get out either, and then we'll both be in a hole! Stay back, Ruddy! Stay back!" he called, faintly.

But there was no need to tell Ruddy that. The setter was a wise dog, and though he very much wanted to aid his master, he was not going to run into danger himself, and so make it impossible for him to help Rick. Ruddy was a wise dog.

He had seen Rick go down in the snow drift, and at first thought nothing of it. It was not the first time Rick had toppled into the snow that day.

But when several minutes went by, and Rick did not come out, laughing as he always did, Ruddy became uneasy. He ran down the hill, almost as fast as the coasting sled had gone down, and when he came to the edge of the hole he stopped. That was where Ruddy was wise.

If he had gone on much farther he would have slipped into the drift himself, and, while he might have been able to flounder his way out, he would not have been of any use to his master.

So Ruddy stopped on the hard, firm edge of the hole, at the place where Rick had toppled in. And there Ruddy stood, looked down at his master, and barked.

Ruddy could not see as well, by looking down into the hole of snow, as Rick could see by looking up, but the dog knew his master was there.

"Stay up there, Ruddy! Stay there!" called Rick, faintly, trying to fight off the feeling of weakness and the blackness that appeared to be trying to cover him with a heavy blanket. "Stay up there—and go get help! Go home, Ruddy!"

Ruddy barked again, and there was a different meaning to it. If another dog had been there he could have very easily have understood what Ruddy was saying. It was this: