"Are there such things as wild dogs?"
"Yes, although the point has been much disputed. But the dog, the faithful companion of man, has been so long domesticated, that little similarity of appearance exists between them. However, the cayotte, the fox, and the wolf may be called wild dogs."
We had once more got into the midst of a thicket without discovering the least trace of our resting-place. It became important that we should soon find our starting-point. I noticed that Gringalet, instead of gambolling round us as he generally did, remained behind, pricking up his ears, and appearing excessively knowing.
"What do you think, shall we take Gringalet for our guide?" said I.
As soon as the animal heard his name mentioned, he rushed towards me, and I patted him.
"Come, tell your dog to lead us to the bivouac," I said to Lucien.
"To the bivouac! to the bivouac!" cried the boy, patting the animal.
Gringalet really seemed to understand, for he sniffed up the air, and at once went to the front. I soon discovered that he was taking us back by a very circuitous path.
"To the bivouac! to the bivouac!"
Gradually the noise of the torrent became more distinct, and our guide plunged into the brush-wood. While we were cutting down the branches that stopped up our path, Gringalet waited with his ears pricked up and one foot uplifted. At last we caught sight of the hut, which was greeted with such pleasure and relief as only known by fatigued travellers.