AS TO DOGS 



we reached New York, and how proud I knew 

 my own dogs would be to meet him. With the 

 knowledge he would acquire on a trip to 

 the Anezeh, everything seemed to be before 

 him. Sheikh Ali had galloped his bay mare 

 a mile ahead to the tents of his own tribe, and 

 the horsemen came galloping to meet us, carry- 

 ing spears that looked thirty feet long. It was 

 all excitement and the puppy ran ahead to 

 join it. We saw the Sheikh's tent, a big tent 

 with lots of men near it. They were killing a 

 lamb and wolf -like dogs were jumping around 

 it. Before I could dismount, or a man come 

 to the rescue with a spear, my volunteer baby 

 guard, my puppy, my boy that was leaving 

 home at ten and going out into the world to 

 make a living, was torn and dead. He didn't 

 whine. He had fought as well as he could 

 with his puppy teeth, the teeth that had 

 scratched my hand in play a few hours before, 

 but they had failed him. He had started out 

 for himself to be as much of a man as a dog 

 can ever be. He had left home that his father 

 might rule alone. But he was gone and it was 

 all over! The opportunity we thought so 

 bright was a blank. The career that had 

 started so well had ended quickly. The first 



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