DOGS, AND THEIR CHARACTERISTICS. 359 



him. One time when I had him in Western Iowa, Mr. W. 

 H. Phelps, one of the finest shots in the State, saw him 

 and came near hurting himself laughing when he found 

 out I was going after quail with this dog. On this same 

 hunt W. B. Wilcox, since deceased, Avas my partner for 

 a day. In the party there were two blue-blood setters, 

 and as they were pets and beautiful animals they re- 

 ceived unremitting attention from their owners. Some- 

 times I thought Colonel was a little bit jealous, for any 

 advances these dogs made toward opening up a friend- 

 ship with him were instantly rejected with a sullen 

 growl. He lay on the floor of the baggage-car, rolled 

 up in a heap ; his rough coat was homespun, compared 

 with theirs of silken texture, and he seemed to know 

 it. At times he would slowly rise to his feet, come to 

 me, put his cold nose in my hand, and look me straight 

 in the eyes, his great brown ones honestly seeking the 

 truth from me, as if asking whether I, too, was going 

 to desert him for these false gods. Honest old boy ! 

 He ought to have known me better. My tender strok- 

 ing of his broad forehead, the affectionate patting of 

 his stout shoulders, the reassuring smile I gave him 

 eemed to soothe his troubled mind, and he lay down 

 3-gain, apparently happy, casting on his canine com- 

 panions a look of contempt, and showing them his 

 gleaming teeth. 



In the fields of Western Iowa there was Waterloo 

 that day, and Colonel was a Wellington. I never will 

 forget the expression on Wilcox's face when reaching 

 a likely field, he tried to make Colonel "hie on." 

 Before this, I had motioned Colonel to heel. He rec- 

 ognized me as his master, and obeyed no other com- 

 mand. Wilcox got excited, condemned me for bring- 



