But as Dick lay quite still and motionless, he
went forward with a look of alarm; snuffed him once or twice, and
whined piteously; then he raised his nose in the air and uttered a
long melancholy wail.
The cry seemed to revive Dick, for he moved, and with some difficulty
sat up, to the dog's evident relief. There is no doubt whatever that
Crusoe learned an erroneous lesson that day, and was firmly convinced
thenceforth that the best cure for a fainting fit is a melancholy
yell. So easy is it for the wisest of dogs as well as men to fall into
gross error!
"Crusoe," said Dick, in a feeble voice, "dear good pup, come here."
He crawled, as he spoke, down to the water's edge, where there was a
level patch of dry sand.
"Dig," said Dick, pointing to the sand.
Crusoe looked at him in surprise, as well he might, for he had never
heard the word "dig" in all his life before.
Dick pondered a minute then a thought struck him.
He turned up a little of the sand with his fingers, and, pointing to
the hole, cried, "_Seek him out, pup_!"
Ha! Crusoe understood _that_.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233