"I can"t imagine what Old Man Coyote could have done to Bowser," said Reddy to himself. "He certainly couldn"t have killed Bowser in a fight, for that old rascal would never in the world dare face Bowser the Hound in a fight. But he certainly has caused something to happen to Bowser.
If that bothersome dog never returns, it certainly will make things a lot easier for Granny Fox and myself."
As for Farmer Brown"s boy, he was as much puzzled as any of the little people and a whole lot more worried. He drove all about the neighborhood, asking at every house if anything had been seen of Bowser, Nowhere did he get any trace of him. No one had seen him. It was very mysterious. Farmer Brown"s boy had begun to suspect that Bowser had met with an accident somewhere off in the woods and had been unable to get help. It made Farmer Brown"s boy very sad indeed. His cheery whistle was no longer heard, for he did not feel like whistling. At last he quite gave up hope of ever again seeing Bowser.
CHAPTER XX
WHERE BOWSER WAS
When things are at their very worst, As bad, you think, as they can be, Just lay aside your feelings sad; The road ahead may turn, you see.
_Bowser the Hound._
You remember that Blacky the Crow led poor Bowser to an old road and there left him. Blacky reasoned that if Bowser had any sense at all, he would know that that road must lead somewhere and would follow it. If he didn"t have sense enough to do this, he deserved to starve or freeze, was the way Blacky reasoned it out. Of course Blacky knew exactly where the road would lead.
Now Bowser did have sense. Of course he did. The minute he found that road, a great load was taken from his mind. He no longer felt wholly lost. He was certain that all he had to do was to keep in that road, and sooner or later he would come to a house. The thing that worried him most was whether or not he would have strength enough to keep going until he reached that house. You remember that he was weak from lack of food, lame, and half frozen.
Poor old Bowser! He certainly was the picture of misery as he limped along that road. His tail hung down as if he hadn"t strength enough to hold it up. His head also hung low. He walked on three legs and limped with one of these. In his eyes was such a look of pain and suffering as would have touched the hardest heart. He whined and whimpered as he limped along.
It seemed to him that he had gone a terribly long distance, though really it was not far at all, when something tickled his nose, that wonderful nose which can smell the tracks of others long after they have pa.s.sed. But this time it wasn"t the smell of a track that tickled his nose; it was something in the air. Bowser lifted his head and sniffed long and hard. What he smelled was smoke. He knew what that meant.
Somewhere not very far ahead of him was a house.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SOMEWHERE NOT VERY FAR AHEAD OF HIM WAS A HOUSE. _Page 96._]
With new hope and courage Bowser tried to hurry on. Presently around a turn of the road he saw a farmyard. The smell of the smoke from the chimney of the farmhouse was stronger now, and with it was mingled an appetizing smell of things cooking. Into Bowser"s whimper there now crept a little note of eagerness as he dragged himself across the farmyard and up to the back door. There his strength quite left him. He didn"t have enough left to even bark. All he could do was whine. After what seemed a long, long time the door opened, and a motherly woman stood looking down at him. Two minutes later Bowser lay on a mat close by the kitchen stove.
CHAPTER XXI
BOWSER BECOMES A PRISONER
There is no one in all the Great World more faithful than a faithful dog.
_Bowser the Hound._
Bowser the Hound was a prisoner. Yes, Sir, Bowser was a sure-enough prisoner. But there is a great difference in prisons. Bowser was a prisoner of kindness. It seems funny that kindness should ever make any one a prisoner, but it is so sometimes.
You see, it was this way: When Bowser had been taken in to that strange farmhouse, he had been so used up that he had had only strength enough to very feebly wag his tail. Right away the people in that farmhouse knew what had happened to Bowser. That is, they knew part of what had happened to him. They knew that he had been lost and had somehow hurt one leg. They were very, very good to him. They fed him, and made a comfortable bed for him, and rubbed something on the leg which he had hurt and which had swollen. Almost right away after eating Bowser went to sleep and slept and slept and slept. It was the very best thing he could have done.
The next day he felt a whole lot better, but he was so stiff and lame that he could hardly move. He didn"t try very much. He was petted and cared for quite as tenderly as he would have been at his own home. So several days pa.s.sed, and Bowser was beginning to feel more like himself.
The more he felt like himself, the more he wanted to go home. It wasn"t that there he would receive any greater kindness than he was now receiving, but home is home and there is no place like it. So Bowser began to be uneasy.
"This dog doesn"t belong anywhere around here," said the man of the house. "I know every Hound for miles around, and I never have seen this one before. He has come a long distance. It will not do to let him go, for he will try to find his way home and the chances are that he will again get lost. We must keep him in the house or chained up. Perhaps some day we may be able to find his owner. If not, we will keep him. I am sure he will soon become contented here."
Now that man knew dogs. Had Bowser had the chance, he would have done exactly what that man had said. He would have tried to find his way home, and he hadn"t the least idea in the world in which direction home lay. But he didn"t get the chance to try. When he was allowed to run out of doors it was always with some one to watch him. He was petted and babied and made a great deal of, but he knew all the time that he was a prisoner. He knew that if he was to get away at all he would have to sneak away, and somehow there never seemed a chance to do this. He was grateful to these kindly people, but down in his heart was a great longing for Farmer Brown"s boy and _home_. He always felt this longing just a wee bit stronger when Blacky the Crow pa.s.sed over and cawed.
CHAPTER XXII
FARMER BROWN"S BOY LOOKS IN VAIN
Loyalty is priceless and Is neither sold nor bought.
Alas, how few who seem to know Its value as they ought.
_Bowser the Hound._
As I have told you, Farmer Brown"s boy had been all about the neighborhood asking at each farmhouse if anything had been seen of Bowser. Of course nothing had been seen of him, and so at last Farmer Brown"s boy felt sure that something dreadful had happened to Bowser in the woods.
For several days he tramped through the Green Forest and up through the Old Pasture, looking for signs of Bowser. His heart was heavy, for you know Bowser was quite one of the family. He visited every place he could think of where he and Bowser had hunted together. He knew that by this time Bowser couldn"t possibly be alive if he had been caught by a foot in a trap or had met with an accident in the woods. He had quite given up all hope of ever seeing Bowser alive again. But he did want to know just what had happened to him, and so he kept searching and searching.
One day Farmer Brown"s boy heard that a strange dog had been found over in the next township. That afternoon he drove over there, his heart filled with great hope. But he had his long ride for nothing, for when he got there he found that the strange dog was not Bowser at all.
Meanwhile Old Man Coyote and Reddy Fox and Old Granny Fox had become very bold. They even came up around the henyard in broad daylight.
"I believe you know something about what has become of Bowser," Farmer Brown"s boy said, as he chased Old Man Coyote away one day. "You certainly know that he isn"t home, and I more than suspect that you know _why_ he isn"t home. I certainly shall have to get another dog to teach you not to be so bold."
But somehow Farmer Brown"s boy couldn"t bring himself quite to taking such a step as getting a new dog. He felt that no other dog ever could take Bowser"s place, and in spite of the fact that he thought he had given up all hope of ever seeing Bowser again, "way down deep inside was something which, if it were not hope, was something enough like it to keep him from getting another dog in Bowser"s place.
Whenever he went about away from home, he kept an eye out for dogs in the farmyards he pa.s.sed. He did it without really thinking anything about it. He had given up hope of finding Bowser, yet he was always looking for him.
CHAPTER XXIII
BOWSER"S GREAT VOICE
To long for home when far away Will rob of joy the brightest day.
_Bowser the Hound._
There is as much difference in the voices of dogs as in the voices of human beings. For that matter, this is true of many of the little people who wear fur. Bowser the Hound had a wonderful, deep, clear voice, a voice that could be heard a great distance. No one who knew it would ever mistake it for the voice of any other Hound.
As a rule, Bowser seldom used that great voice of his save when he was hunting some one. Then, when the scent was strong, he gave tongue so fast that you wondered how he had breath enough left to run. But now that he was a prisoner of kindness, in the home of the people who had taken him in when he had crept to their doorstep, Bowser sometimes bayed from sheer homesickness. When he was tied out in the yard, he would sometimes get to thinking of his home and long to see Farmer Brown and Mrs. Brown and especially his master, Farmer Brown"s boy. Then, when he could stand it no longer, he would open his mouth and send his great voice rolling across to the woods with a tone of mournfulness which never had been there before.
But great as was Bowser"s voice, and far as it would carry, there was none who knew him to hear it, save Blacky the Crow. You remember that Blacky knew just where Bowser was and often flew over that farmyard to make sure that Bowser was still there. So more than once Blacky heard Bowser"s great voice with its mournful note, and understood it.