A Dog of Mine

Hokitika Guardian, 24 November 1922, Page 4

A Dog of Mine

(lly Major 11. Rayne, Author of “Sun, Sand, and Sounds.” He was in serious trouble and I bought him for a song. He looked, and behaved, like an irishman, hut the Scots farmer called him a “Bcdlin'lou terrier”—and other names. Smuggled into a Loudon hotel bedroom, he tore the skirt trom a maid who entered during my absence. (n the ship he snobbishly inlormed his stable companion, a good-natured bull-dog, that lie was satisfied no such monstrosity could possibly belong to any decent kennel club, and thereafter cut him dead.

On Kilindini pier he attacked and routed a gang of Swahili coolies who were hauling on a rope ; the same night in a Mombasa hotel, he challenged a lady’s fox-terrier and literally wiped the floor with him. When I went to the foxy’s assistance Dick h-'ld him l>y the throat, the while a man threw pepper in my eyes, and the lady heat my hands with an umbrella. lie knew, although 1 was uncertain. that both blows and pepper were meant for him, and he was grateful; he oll'ercd to kill the foxy out ot hand if l prevented further interference. lie sprang from a launch into the Julia River, swam to the ItalianSomaliland hank, and gave chase to an old-man baboon ; 1 found the pair lyiiu tog'ther-- the habo.in dead, Dick near ly dead. I took him that night to hi new heme and nursed him for a w.cl: "Master! Master! Lions have killer voiir mule!”

I seize nly rifle' and riico " front the bungalow. It is a clear moonlight night. There lies the mule; just beyond, a shadowy form slinks away. Bang! A roar of pain; the wounded lion dashes for a clump of trees, a little brown clog hard oil his heels.

“Woof! Woof!” grunts the lion. Thump 1 Thump! lie is hard hit; hi’ eyes dim ; the mighty blows miss tin’ agile ting and smilo the earth. Me race, the natives and L to save the clog. The lion tweaks cover and takes to the open, a bundle of fury at hi. heels. “Dick! Dick! You little devil! Dick-k-k!” “Yap 1 Yap!” The harks grow fan i ill the distance. I race in punisiih until my heart is bursting and my breath comes in sobs. . . . i found them: the dying lion crouched waiting; magnificently defiant in hi cm! ; before him lay the mangled hod-, of uiv gallant little dog.