When it was finished he held it out at arm's-length, and said,
"Crusoe, my pup, ain't ye proud of it? I'll tell ye what it is, pup,
the next time you an' I floor Caleb, I'll put the claws round _your_
neck, an' make ye wear em ever arter, so I will."
The dog did not seem quite to appreciate this piece of prospective
good fortune. Vanity had no place in his honest breast, and, sooth to
say, it had not a large place in that of his master either, as we may
well grant when we consider that this first display of it was on the
occasion of his hunter's soul having at last realized its brightest
day-dream.
Dick's dangers and triumphs seemed to accumulate on him rather thickly
at this place, for on the very next day he had a narrow escape of
being killed by a deer. The way of it was this.
Having run short of meat, and not being particularly fond of grizzly
bear steak, he shouldered his rifle and sallied forth in quest of
game, accompanied by Crusoe, whose frequent glances towards his
wounded side showed that, whatever may have been the case the day
before, it "hurt" him now.
Pages:
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284