Moreover, he obeyed commands instantly
and implicitly. In this respect he put to shame most of the boys of
the settlement, who were by no means famed for their habits of prompt
obedience.
Crusoe's eye was constantly watching the face of his master. When Dick
said "Go" he went, when he said "Come" he came. If he had been in the
midst of an excited bound at the throat of a stag, and Dick had called
out, "Down, Crusoe," he would have sunk to the earth like a stone. No
doubt it took many months of training to bring the dog to this state
of perfection, but Dick accomplished it by patience, perseverance, and
_love_.
Besides all this, Crusoe could speak! He spoke by means of the dog's
dumb alphabet in a way that defies description. He conversed, so to
speak, with his extremities--his head and his tail. But his eyes, his
soft brown eyes, were the chief medium of communication. If ever the
language of the eyes was carried to perfection, it was exhibited in
the person of Crusoe. But, indeed, it would be difficult to say
which part of his expressive face expressed most--the cocked ears of
expectation, the drooped ears of sorrow; the bright, full eye of
joy, the half-closed eye of contentment, and the frowning eye of
indignation accompanied with a slight, a very slight pucker of the
nose and a gleam of dazzling ivory--ha! no enemy ever saw this last
piece of canine language without a full appreciation of what it meant.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63