3 o8 DOG STORIES 



mining for copper, and there were various 

 workings, old and new, on my father's estate. 

 In a wood, which stood on the side of a steep 

 hill, not half-a-mile from the house, a gallery, 

 or " adit," as it is called locally, had been 

 driven into the hill-side in the hope of inter- 

 secting at a lower level a lode which had 

 shown itself above. To those who passed 

 down the main path of the wood this adit 

 showed itself as a cave, quite dark within. 

 Going that way one day with my brothers 

 and having the poodle's stone in my hand, 

 I idly and thoughtlessly threw it into the 

 mouth of the adit. The dog rushed after it, 

 and to my surprise and horror, we heard the 

 stone fall, and immediately afterwards the 

 dog. This told us that there was a shaft in 

 the adit, a most unusual thing ; we listened 

 but could hear no sound, and we had not a 

 doubt that the dog had been killed ; one 

 thing surprised us, it was well known to us 

 that all disused shafts had water at the 

 bottom, but we could hear by the sound of 

 the fall that it had not been into water. The 

 loss of our favourite was a terrible blow, but 



