The beauty and singularity of the sight made it
impossible for me to be angry with him, though there's nothing
a man more resents than being shadowed, or secretly followed
and spied upon, even by a dog, so, without considering what I
was letting myself in for, I cried out "Jack" and instantly he
bounded out and came to my side, then flew on ahead, well
pleased to lead the way.
"I must suffer him this time," I said resignedly, and went on,
he always ahead acting as my scout and hunter--self-appointed,
of course, but as I had not ordered him back in trumpet tones
and hurled a rock at him to enforce the command, he took it
that he was appointed by me. He certainly made the most of
his position; no one could say that he was lacking in zeal.
He scoured the country to the right and left and far in
advance of me, crashing through furze thickets and splashing
across bogs and streams, spreading terror where he went and
leaving nothing for me to look at. So it went on until after
one o'clock when, tired and hungry, I was glad to go down into
a small fishing cove to get some dinner in a cottage I knew.
Jack threw himself down on the floor and shared my meal, then
made friends with the fisherman's wife and got a second meal
of saffron cake which, being a Cornish dog, he thoroughly
enjoyed.
The second half of the day was very much like the first,
altogether a blank day for me, although a very full one for
Jack, who had filled a vast number of wild creatures with
terror, furiously hunted a hundred or more, and succeeded in
killing two or three.
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