"Well, after a lot of urging, in went the blessed dog, and Stanley's journey in Darkest Africa was outdone then, I'm sure, and Dasher's rear-guard was in trouble.
"We waited, and called, and whistled, but could hear nothing. We must have waited half an hour I should say, at least it seemed to me as long, and the resident engineer shouted to me two or three times, 'If Dasher does not appear in a few minutes, your men must dig him out.'
"Lawks me, it makes me ill to think of the squalls there would have been if I had had to do that. I wished just then that no dogs had ever been made nor nothing on four legs except horses, cattle, sheep, and pigs; but I turned sympathetic like and went to the top of the embankment, and said, 'Perhaps there may be vermin up there; and I know Dasher is a game one, and won't back.'
"This pleased the resident engineer. Believe me, I would have given at that moment a sovereign to anyone who could have produced that dog.
"Old pal, you need not put your hand out, I said, 'at that moment.' Don't excite yourself. I know you are always thirsty, but you have got the gold hunger bad as well. Just keep quiet, and put your hand in your pocket."
"I beg your pardon, I was forgetting myself."
"All right. Now I'll go on again. Well, I thought the dog had got jammed in, and knew what tight lacing was, and so he did. At last we thought we heard him, and he came out looking more like a turnspit than a well-bred fox terrier.
"Some blood was on him. He had had a squeeze and no mistake, and was about done, but no bones were broken.
"I said slow and solemn like, 'Sir, he has tackled them.'
"'What do you think it was?'