MY GUIDE'S DOG. 89 



made a condition of his servitude or friendship. I 

 love my dog," said he, as he put his brawny arm 

 around his shaggy friend's neck, and drew him to- 

 wards his bosom, and I could see by the sparkling 

 eyes of the animal, as he licked his master's face, that 

 the love was reciprocal. 



It may not be amiss to introduce to the reader, the 

 friend that held so high a place in my guide's regards. 

 That I have not done so before, is perhaps blameable. 

 He started with us into the wood, glad enough, as it 

 seemed to me, for the privilege of doing so. He was 

 a large, powerful animal, of no particular breed or 

 beauty. His coat was shaggy, and of light gray color. 

 The blood of the terrier, the stag-hound, the New- 

 foundland, and cur, evidently mingled in his veins ; 

 and it may well be that the mastiff and stubbornly - 

 courageous bull -dog might have been reckoned among 

 his ancestors. He had a large head, and two of the 

 most active, intelligent eyes that I ever happened 

 to see belonging to a dumb animal. He had, from 

 accident or design, been shorn of his tail, excepting 

 a short stump of about six inches. His ears, too had 

 been trimmed, as my guide said, when he was a pup, 

 to make him look sharp and active. His looks did 



