Foam—A Razor-Backed Hog 
and loss. She searched the little paddock in vain, 
then whistled and whistled. 
She followed the trail of the hunters as far as she 
could, and then at the edge of a thick swamp she 
stopped. She was all alone. The swamp was 
open water or mud; it seemed foolish to go on, so 
she listened a minute, then gave two or three sharp 
whistled blasts. A soggy noise was heard, a splash- 
ing that gave her the creeps, it sounded so Bearlike. 
Then a grunt, and there appeared a muddy beast 
of no particular shape, but surely at one end were 
two small blinking eyes and from somewhere be- 
neath them a friendly sounding grunt. Yes, 
surely it was, no—yes, now she was sure, for the 
wanderer had shaken off most of the mud and was 
upreared, holding his two forefeet on the log to 
have his hoofs polished; and they needed it as never 
before, nor was he quite content till Lizette had 
taken a stick and carried out their ancient under- 
standing by scratching his muddy back. 
SMELL-POWER 
Only the animal man with a nose can understand 
the masterfulness of smells, how through the mem- 
ory they can dominate the brain, and without re- 
gard to the smell itself or anything but the mem- 
ories, be things of joy or pain or fear. Foam had 
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