“That’s so. Let us give up the goat and choose a cow. She is strong enough to defend herself with her horns.”
“If one wolf is not enough, they will bring to the attack two, three, ten, and the cow will be overcome.”
“The horse, mule, or donkey, in our supposed circumstances, cannot be very useful to us. I leave them out. With a hen I should at least have an egg a day.” [[164]]
“A poor dependence if one hen’s egg has to be divided between four. Besides, what grain have you for feeding your hen? And how about the fox—will he leave her in peace?”
“The pig is still left,” was Jules’s final suggestion. “But there we have the same difficulty as with Emile’s sheep: once the animal is eaten, hunger overtakes us again. I leave the choice to some one cleverer than I.”
“My choice,” said Louis, “would be the dog, without a moment’s hesitation.”
“What a queer choice!” cried Emile. “The dog will lick our hands in sign of friendship, he will bark in front of the grotto, and he will gnaw the bone we throw to him. But as there are no bones in our dinners of sloes, the poor beast will die of hunger without being of any use to us whatever.”
“I can find use for him,” replied Louis, “and it is a great one. With the dog, game, even the nimblest hare, will be caught in the chase, with such ambuscade as we can contrive on our part, and food will be assured for all—flesh for us, bones for the dog. Accompanied by him, we can go wherever we please, without the continual fear of being attacked any moment. If a wolf appears, our vigorous companion will cope with it, seize it by the nape of the neck, and give us a chance to lay on with the cudgel.”
“Louis is right,” declared Jules; “I vote for the dog.”
“The reasons Louis gives,” Emile chimed in, “are [[165]]too clear to admit of any but a unanimous vote in the dog’s favor.”