388 



RECREATION 



alone out in that cold white wilderness. 

 I am not a coward; I believe in all my short 

 life that awful white solitude was the only 

 thing of which I ever was afraid. All night 

 I wandered about, slowly, cautiously. I 

 hoard man)- strange sounds, but I had 

 learned to lay low and make no response. 



Again came the beautiful light in the sky, 

 and again the feeling of awe, and what 

 would be reverence, in a human mind, came 

 over me, and I think had I known how, I 

 would have prayed to that God to whom 

 men pray, to watch over me, too, a poor, 

 homeless, little lost dog. I did not sleep 

 much, but finally, just before morning came 

 I had a nice little nap, only to awake hun- 

 grier and more wretched than ever. 



As the morning wore on I again started 

 in my aimless trot; suddenly, as I rounded 

 a berg, I came upon a beautiful red fox, 

 my ''brother," I guess, of the night before. 

 I think at first he was as much surprised 

 at our meeting as was I, but at second 

 glance he showed his teeth in a very ugly 

 manner. I snarled back, for I was nervous, 

 hungry, out of sorts, and rather wanted to 

 fight something; so by the time he curled 

 his lip at me again and came crouching 

 toward me, I waited no longer, but sprang 

 at him, right for his throat, and then we 

 closed in on each other. I knew it was to be 

 a battle for life, but my blood was up. I 

 was mad and I held on tenaciously ; he tried 

 in every way to shake me off. He beat and 

 tore me with his paws, we rolled over and 

 over, but still I held on ; I seemed to feel I 

 must. I knew if I let go I was gone, and al- 

 though my breath came in jerks, my head 

 swam, my eyeballs seemed bursting, I still 

 held on. I was growing numb; I knew I 

 was bleeding from many wounds, yet I 

 seemed to feel nothing. The world had turned 

 red, there was abuzzing in my ears, I thought 

 I was dying — I believe I was dying. I could 

 not have let go then if I wanted, for my jaws 

 were set. Suddenly there was a sharp re- 

 port, I felt the fox quiver, and then all was 

 still. 



I think I was brought back to life by hear- 

 a voice, the voice of my beloved master, 

 saying: "Poor little Pyx, I'm afraid you are 

 done for this time." But I opened my eyes 

 and did my best to tell him I wasn't. 



It was a very fortunate thing for me that 



my master and the other officer decided to 

 take the route they did that morning in their 

 search for me. They had their rifles with 

 them, hoping to get a shot at a bear or a 

 walrus, and it was my master that fired the 

 shot. 



They carried me back to the ship, and from 

 the Captain down they showed their joy at 

 seeing me again, and their sorrow at my 

 plight. My master and the ship's doctor 

 attended to my wounds, but I grew very ill; 

 evidently I had taken cold and pneumonia 

 set in. I was ill for weeks, and it surely was 

 a wonderful thing to see those great strong 

 men, who were so ready to kill their fellow- 

 men, if need be, for their country's sake, 

 care so tenderly for a poor, sick dog. 



The ice broke up a few days after they 

 found me. Some of the queer sounds I 

 heard that last night on the ice were made by 

 its cracking, so when I was once again able 

 to go about the deck we were sailing along 

 in an open sea. 



I did not have any more experiences that 

 summer, I was so weak and miserable. I 

 doubt if I ever will get over all the bad re- 

 sults of that fight, for even now I never hear 

 the report of firearms but the pain and ter- 

 ror of it all comes back to me, and I run and 

 hide. It may be cowardly, but I can't help it. 



My master had the fox skinned and his 

 hide dressed, and when I saw it could no 

 longer do me harm I let him cover me with 

 it at night, when he put me to bed — and a 

 nice, warm cover it made. 



CHAPTER VI 



SHOULD AULD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT 



We divided our time that winter between 

 San Francisco and Seattle; at the latter 

 place I took the opportunity of visiting my 

 old haunts. I was not supposed to leave the 

 ship alone, but I managed several times to 

 slip away ; for I just had to see the old place 

 again. 



No one knew me and I found many 

 changes. 



I went first out to the place where I was 

 born. My, but it is a pretty place. I did 

 not get to speak to my mother, though I saw 

 her through the fence: she was very busy 

 looking after a lot of mischievous little fel- 



