KIDD'S OWN JOURNAL. 



167 



AUTO-BIOGRAPHY OF A DOG— NO. XI. 



WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



{Continued from Page 103.) 



Here I am again, Mr. Editor, well and jolly ! 

 The frost, whilst I write, is finally departing ; and 

 all nature is preparing to don the new livery of 

 spring. I tell you this, because I know you re- 

 joice in everything of the kind. I see, by your 

 last, that we are closely Avatched by Mr. John 

 Gray, of Glasgow. He calls us " strolling 

 dabblers" — because we record the " curious facts" 

 we have met with in our rambles ! Well ; as I'm 

 a dog ! I nev-er ! Do not heed Mr. Gray, sir. We 

 are of another school, and love all the world to 

 share in our pleasures and delights. Mais reven- 

 ons a nos moutons ; as Bombyx Atlas !!my master, 

 says when he sits down to a fine haunch of mutton. 



I told you in my last, all about that fearful storm. 

 I shall never forget it. And now, knowing you 

 will sympathise with the horrible feelings of an 

 honest old Dog, within an inch of being swallowed 

 up — and congratulate him, even now, on his lucky 

 escape from the jaw of the fiend, I cannot resist the 

 temptation to give you an account of what occurred 

 to myself some years ago. Nobody can do it half 

 so feelingly, Mr. Editor; and if you had been in my 

 situation, you would think so, too. 



I must first say, the house my old master then 

 occupied was the same as that alluded to in Num- 

 ber V. of my Memoirs, — on the road to Chailly. It 

 was a large old-fashioned house, with (fortunately 

 for me) an outside staircase behind the house, 

 which led into a covered balcony. At one end of 

 it, was the dormitory of the German servant ; and 

 at the other, a door communicating with the ex- 

 treme part of the house. This balcony was closed 

 every night by glass windows, opening a la Fran- 

 caise ; and a door at the top of the staircase, which 

 the German never failed to lock when he passed 

 to his room. The cellar was in front of the house ; 

 and, as in most old-fashioned Swiss houses, the 

 door was outside, and opened into Bombyx's gar- 

 den. With these preliminaries I now proceed. 



It was the latter end of January — a bitter cold 

 night, the thermometer Fah. twenty-two degrees 

 below the freezing point ; with a sharp bise, and 

 about six inches snow on the plain (capital wea- 

 ther for sledging, of which I shall speak by and 

 by). As usual, about eight o'clock, Bombyx went 

 out to draw his jug of ale for supper. His young- 

 est son held the lantern ; and of course I must go 

 to help. The first thing, on getting out of the 

 front-door and looking down the avenue, Bombyx 

 started, exclaiming — "What can those two re- 

 markable green shining spots be ? I never observed 

 that before." However, down we went into the 

 cellar. I did not at all like the appearance, 

 I even fancied I smelt something peculiar. The 

 moment the cellar door was opened, I sprang in. 

 Luckily, it was a new tap ; and so Bombyx was 

 detained rather longer than usual. Upon coming 

 out, the mysterious light (which the old master 

 said was just like the fiery eyes of some large 

 beast,) had disappeared. Still, nobody had any 

 particular fancy, at this time of night, to go and 

 reconnoitre. A rather unusual hallooing was 

 heard, out on the road, about half-an-hour after ; 

 but nothing more. 



The very next morning early, Frere Jean, ac- 

 companied by half-a-dozen others — each with his 

 gun in his hand, were slowly coming up the 

 avenue to the house, pointing on the ground as 

 they approached. "What's the matter?" says 

 Bombyx. " Oh !" replies Jean — " Ce n'est rien 

 — C'est seulement que le loup a passe par ici." 

 " Is it possible ?" said Bombyx. " Then I saw 

 the brute last night about eight o'clock." " Just 

 so," 6ays Jean ; — " a little before eight, he was 

 seen on ' Mont benon,' and afterwards on the New 

 Road ; and we have traced him up to here. Look 

 at these foot-prints as straight as a ruler, one 

 after the other — that's him ! Onward !" 



We came close up to the house. " Well, this is 

 a pretty start !" cries Jean. " I suppose he wanted 

 to view Monsieur's 'cava.' Here he has been, 

 down the steps, and across the garden." Only 

 think, Mr. Editor, the brute must actually have 

 passed right down, while myself and Bombyx and 

 the young master were in the cellar, Fancy 

 how stealthily the animal went by ! We heard 

 nothing at all. Well ; having passed through the 

 garden, he went up across a large field behind the 

 house and into a cross road, by " Bethusy." Here, 

 owing to a drift of snow, there was no further 

 positive trace of him. He had evidently been shift- 

 ing about a good deal, in this quarter. However, 

 after a great search, we came to the conclusion 

 that he must be concealed at no great distance 

 from this spot — more especially, as there were 

 several thick hedges, and very bushy copses in 

 this neighborhood, which, though denuded of their 

 summer foliage, afforded excellent hiding-places. 



" He's certainly not far from here," said Jean, 

 "and he'll not come out till dark, unless he's dis- 

 turbed ; we'll just go and have a bit of ' dejeune,' 

 and return; alors nous lui ferons son affaire" 

 " I say, Jean, don't go through the high road," 

 said Bombyx. " Come in here, we'll find some 

 coffee and toast. If any one should see you, they'll 

 be on the scent as soon as yourself, and perhaps 

 get the beast first, and claim the reward." 



" Monsieur est trop bon, pourtant c'est bien 

 vrai," said Jean. 



Let me just tell you, Mr. Editor, there is a re- 

 ward of sixty Swiss francs (£3 15s.) for every 

 female wolf, and forty (£2 10s.) for every male, given 

 by the government ; also permission to carry the 

 beast about from town to town and from house to 

 house ; and you would hardly credit the sum thus 

 obtained. Should the animal also be remarkably 

 fine, it is sometimes purchased for some museum. 

 All I know is, that to catch a female wolf is a 

 capital thing indeed. 



Well ! it was agreed that, after breakfast, all but 

 Jean should quietly go home by different routes, 

 to avoid suspicion ; and that he and the German 

 should every now and then go about slily and 

 reconnoitre if any other party had got the scent. 

 In about a quarter of an hour after they had all 

 gone, Jean went up to look about ; and after re- 

 maining some time, returned. " Well, Jean, what 

 news ?" " There are others after him," said Jean. 

 " I saw that great ' Grobety' among them, et par- 

 bleu c'est unfin Renard. I warrant you he'll not 

 miss him if he gets a sight of him." 



" Well ; it's fair for all. The beast will not move 

 yet, unless he be disturbed." Presently, up goes the 

 German servant and myself; and looking quietly 



