It was on an American liner—couple of years ago. I was a second cabin passenger. It was after midnight, and very dark—and misty and damp. There was some sea on. I was on the upper deck, away aft, snuggled under the lee of the canvassed rail on the starboard side, doing nothing. That is, thinking. Nobody stirring; the whole deck was a solitude. By and by two dim figures came down the port side talking and they stopped and stood there, about opposite me and went on with their talk. One had a heavy voice, the other one had an ordinary voice and a little hacking cough. I couldn't tell what the men were like—except that both were large —they were just shapeless blots in the gloom. The bass voice said—
“But I've always had a good word for dogs ever since, when I hear people talking against them; because that dog saved my life.”
(Hack-hack.) Is that so.
Yes, he did. And my whole crew, too—14 men. Do you like dogs?
(H-h). Like them? Well I should think so.
All right, then. Where was I?
(H-h) Becalmed in the Indian ocean.
I know. But where had I got to about the dog?
H. Why, you started to tell how you got him; but you switched off onto—
O, yes, I remember, now. He came aboard at the dock, racing [begin page 558] around with his nose down, hunting for somebody that had been there—his master, I reckon—and the crew captured him and shut him below, and we sailed in a hour. Well, sir, he was just a darling, that dog. Inside of a week he was the pet of the whole crew. He was brim full of play, and fun and affection and good nature. They bedded him like the aristocracy, and there warn't a man but would divide his dinner with him; and he was the lovingest creature and the gratefulest you ever saw.
Well, that night that I was telling you about, it was warm, and still and drowsy and lazy; and the sails hung idle, and the deckwatch and the lookout and everybody else was sound asleep. Well along about an hour after midnight there was a tremendous scratching and barking at my door, and I jumped out and that dog was just wild with excitement, and rushed off and just as good as told me to come along, and come quick. Well, sir, she was afire down in the hold, and he had discovered it. Down I plunged, and he went raging off and waking up the others.
That was the closest fit! Remember the powder-kegs I told you about? Why in another two minutes the fire would a had 'em and we'd a been blown into the sky.
H. Good dog—splen-did dog!
I had the powder out of danger in half a second, and here came the men tearing—and white? Why
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was in the boat but me, and the flames were soaring up and lighting the whole ocean, I tied the dog to the foot of the mainmast and then got in myself and took the tiller and said “All ready—give way.”
Why, they all shouted at once—“What?—going to leave the dog?”
I said, Did you hear the order? Give way.
Well the tears begun to run down their faces. And they said, Why he saved our lives—we can't leave him. I said—
You don't know what you're talking about. He'd be more in the way than a family of children—and he can eat as much as a family [begin page 559] of children, too. Now men, you know me—and I pulled a revolver
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tugged at his rope, and begged and moaned and yelped—why it was as plain as if he was saying, Oh, don't leave me, please don't leave me, I haven't done any harm. And then presently the fire swept down on him and he sent up two or three awful shrieks and it was all over. And the men sat there sobbing and crying like children.
H. Is that true?
“True as gospel.”
H. It was the vilest murder that ever was done—and I hope you will land in hell before you are an hour older.
I heard a blow struck, then another and another; the ship gave a heavy lurch and the two vague forms came