1 40 OTTER HUNTING, FALCONRY, SHOOTING 



nearly thirteen years she was always with me, and knew 

 my little manners and habits better than any human 

 being. I lost her one day, in Sardinia, about twenty 

 miles from Cagliari, at a spot to which I had gone 

 on wheels the previous evening. Old Nellie lay under 

 our feet in the buggy in which we drove, so that she 

 could not possibly have seen any landmarks, or stopped 

 to sniff at any spots where other of her species had left 

 their traces. We slept, the night of our arrival at the 

 village, in an old tumbledown country house, Nellie under 

 my bed. The next morning we sallied forth early, and 

 for two or three hours had capital sport with Barbary 

 partridges, quails, and a few hares. It was about the 

 middle of October, very hot, and Nellie was thirsty. She 

 disappeared about 1 1 a.m., and I whistled for and sought 

 her in vain, the whole of the afternoon. My host of 

 the R.Y.S. Schooner Claymore was anxious to leave 

 Cagliari for Palermo on the evening of the day following, 

 so I returned disconsolate to the yacht by 9.30 p.m. My 

 good friend, knowing how I loved my Nellie, kindly 

 consented to stay till the following morning. 



" I spent a miserable day, and turned in early. My 

 host and our other companion went ashore to the opera ; I 

 was conscious of the gig shoving off to bring them aboard 

 about 1 1 p.m., and the next thing that I knew of was 

 Nellie's jumping up into my bunk, and licking my hands. 

 She had found her way back twenty miles through an 

 unknown country, and evidently came straight down to> 



