"I can hardly go so far as to say that, Mrs. Weldon," he replied; "but I cannot help a.s.sociating them with the fate of a brave explorer."

"Whom do you mean? said the lady.

"In 1871, just two years ago," the captain continued, "a French traveller, under the auspices of the Geographical

[Ill.u.s.tration: Jack cried out in the greatest excitement that Dingo knew how to read]

Society of Paris, set out for the purpose of crossing Africa from west to east. His starting-point was the mouth of the Congo, and his exit was designed to be as near as possible to Cape Deldago, at the mouth of the River Rovouma, of which he was to ascertain the true course. The name of this man was Samuel Vernon, and I confess it strikes me as somewhat a strange coincidence that the letters engraved on Dingo's collar should be Vernon's initials."

"Is nothing known about this traveller?" asked Mrs. Weldon.

"Nothing was ever heard of him after his first departure. It appears quite certain that he failed to reach the east coast, and it can only be conjectured either that he died upon his way, or that he was made prisoner by the natives; and if so, and this dog ever belonged to him, the animal might have made his way back to the sea-coast, where, just about the time that would be likely, the captain of the 'Waldeck' picked him up."

"But you have no reason to suppose, Captain Hull, that Vernon ever owned a dog of this description?"

"I own I never heard of it," said the captain; "but still the impression fixes itself on my mind that the dog must have been his; how he came to know one letter from another, it is not for me to pretend to say. Look at him now, madam! he seems not only to be reading the letters for himself, but to be inviting us to come and read them with him."

Whilst Mrs. Weldon was watching the dog with much amus.e.m.e.nt, d.i.c.k Sands, who had listened to the previous conversation, took the opportunity of asking the captain whether the traveller Vernon had started on his expedition quite alone.

"That is really more than I can tell you, my boy," answered Captain Hull; "but I should almost take it for granted that he would have a considerable retinue of natives."

The captain spoke without being aware that Negoro had meanwhile quietly stolen on deck. At first his presence was quite unnoticed, and no one observed the peculiar glance with which he looked at the two letters over which Dingo still persisted in keeping guard. The dog, however, no sooner caught sight of the cook than he began to bristle with rage, whereupon Negoro, with a threatening gesture which seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.

The incident did not escape the captain's observation.

"No doubt," he said, "there is some mystery here;" and he was pondering the matter over in his mind when d.i.c.k Sands spoke.

"Don't you think it very singular, sir, that this dog should have such a knowledge of the alphabet?"

Jack here put in his word.

"My mamma has told me about a dog whose name was Munito, who could read as well as a schoolmaster, and could play dominoes."

Mrs. Weldon smiled.

"I am afraid, my child, that that dog was not quite so learned as you imagine. I don't suppose he knew one letter from another; but his master, who was a clever American, having found out that the animal had a very keen sense of hearing, taught him some curious tricks."

"What sort of tricks?" asked d.i.c.k, who was almost as much interested as little Jack.

"When he had to perform in public," continued Mrs. Weldon, "a lot of letters like yours, Jack, were spread out upon a table, and Munito would put together any word that the company should propose, either aloud or in a whisper, to his master. The creature would walk about until he stopped at the very letter which was wanted. The secret of it all was that the dog's owner gave him a signal when he was to stop by rattling a little tooth-pick in his pocket, making a slight noise that only the dog's ears were acute enough to perceive."

d.i.c.k was highly amused, and said,-

"But that was a dog who could do nothing wonderful without his master."

"Just so," answered Mrs. Weldon; "and it surprises me

[Ill.u.s.tration: Negoro, with a threatening gesture that seemed half involuntary, withdrew immediately to his accustomed quarters.]

very much to see Dingo picking out these letters without a master to direct him."

"The more one thinks of it, the more strange it is," said Captain Hull; "but, after all, Dingo's sagacity is not greater than that of the dog which rang the convent bell in order to get at the dish that was reserved for pa.s.sing beggars; nor than that of the dog who had to turn a spit every other day, and never could be induced to work when it was not his proper day. Dingo evidently has no acquaintance with any other letters except the two S V; and some circ.u.mstance which we can never guess has made him familiar with them."

"What a pity he cannot talk!" exclaimed the apprentice; "we should know why it is that he always shows his teeth at Negoro."

"And tremendous teeth they are!" observed the captain, as Dingo at that moment opened his mouth, and made a display of his formidable fangs.

CHAPTER VI.

A WHALE IN SIGHT.

It was only what might be expected that the dog's singular exhibition of sagacity should repeatedly form a subject of conversation between Mrs. Weldon, the captain, and d.i.c.k. The young apprentice in particular began to entertain a lurking feeling of distrust towards Negoro, although it must be owned that the man's conduct in general afforded no tangible grounds for suspicion.

Nor as it only among the stern pa.s.sengers that Dingo's remarkable feat was discussed; amongst the crew in the bow the dog not only soon gained the reputation of being able to read, but was almost credited with being able to write too, as well as any sailor among them; indeed the chief wonder was that he did not speak.

"Perhaps he can," suggested Bolton, the helmsman, "and likely enough some fine day we shall have him coming to ask about our bearings, and to inquire which way the wind lies."

"Ah! why not?" a.s.sented another sailor; "parrots talk, and magpies talk; why shouldn't a dog? For my part, I should guess it must be easier to speak with a mouth than with a beak."

"Of course it is," said Howick, the boatswain; "only a quadruped has never yet been known to do it."

Perhaps, however, the worthy fellow would have been amazed to hear that a certain Danish savant once possesed a dog that could actually p.r.o.nounce quite distinctly nearly twenty different words, demonstrating that the construction

[Ill.u.s.tration: "This Dingo is nothing out of the way."]

of the glottis, the aperture at the top of the windpipe, was adapted for the emission of regular sounds: of course the animal attached no meaning to the words it uttered any more than a parrot or a jay can comprehend their own chatterings.

Thus, unconsciously, Dingo had become the hero of the hour. On several separate occasions Captain Hull repeated the experiment of spreading out the blocks before him, but invariably with the same result; the dog never failed, without the slightest hesitation, to pick out the two letters, leaving all the rest of the alphabet quite unnoticed.

Cousin Benedict alone, somewhat ostentatiously, professed to take no interest in the circ.u.mstance.

"You cannot suppose," he said to Captain Hull, after various repet.i.tions of the trick, "that dogs are to be reckoned the only animals endowed with intelligence Rats, you know, will always leave a sinking ship, and beavers invariably raise their dams before the approach of a flood. Did not the horses of Nicomedes, Scanderberg and Oppian die of grief for the loss of their masters? Have there not been instances of donkeys with wonderful memories? Birds, too, have been trained to do the most remarkable things; they have been taught to write word after word at their master's dictation; there are c.o.c.katoos who can count the people in a room as accurately as a mathematician; and haven't you heard of the old Cardinal's parrot that he would not part with for a hundred gold crowns because it could repeat the Apostles' creed from beginning to end without a blunder? And insects," he continued, warming into enthusiasm, "how marvellously they vindicate the axiom-

'In minimis maximus Deus!'

Are not the structures of ants the very models for the architects of a city? Has the diving-bell of the aquatic argyroneta ever been surpa.s.sed by the invention of the most skilful student of mechanical art? And cannot fleas go through a drill and fire a gun as well as the most accomplished artilleryman? This Dingo is nothing out of the way. I suppose he belongs to some uncla.s.sed species of mastiff. Perhaps one day or other he may come to be identified as the 'canis alphabeticus' of New Zealand."

The worthy entomologist delivered this and various similar harangues; but Dingo, nevertheless, retained his high place in the general estimation, and by the occupants of the forecastle was regarded as little short of a phenomenon. The feeling, otherwise universal, was not in any degree shared by Negoro, and it is not improbable that the man would have been tempted to some foul play with the dog if the open sympathies of the crew had not kept him in check. More than ever he studiously avoided coming in contact in any way with the animal, and d.i.c.k Sands in his own mind was quite convinced that since the incident of the letters, the cook's hatred of the dog had become still more intense.

After continual alternations with long and wearisome calms the north-east wind perceptibly moderated, and on the both, Captain Hull really began to hope that such a change would ensue as to allow the schooner to run straight before the wind. Nineteen days had elapsed since the "Pilgrim" had left Auckland, a period not so long but that with a favourable breeze it might be made up at last. Some days however were yet to elapse before the wind veered round to the antic.i.p.ated quarter.

It has been already stated that this portion of the Pacific is almost always deserted. It is out of the line of the American and Australian steam-packets, and except a whaler had been brought into it by some such exceptional circ.u.mstances as the "Pilgrim," it was quite unusual to see one in this lat.i.tude.

But, however void of traffic was the surface of the sea, to none but an unintelligent mind could it appear monotonous or barren of interest. The poetry of the ocean breathes forth in its minute and almost imperceptible changes. A marine plant, a tuft of seaweed lightly furrowing the water, a drifting spar with its unknown history, may afford unlimited scope-for the imagination; every little drop pa.s.sing, in its process of evaporation, backwards and

[Ill.u.s.tration: Occasionally d.i.c.k Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle.]

forwards from sea to sky, might perchance reveal its own special secret; and happy are those minds which are capable of a due appreciation of the mysteries of air and ocean.

Above the surface as well as below, the restless flood is ever teaming with animal life; and the pa.s.sengers on board the "Pilgrim" derived no little amus.e.m.e.nt from watching great flocks of birds migrating northwards to escape the rigour of the polar winter, and ever and again descending in rapid flight to secure some tiny fish. Occasionally d.i.c.k Sands would take a pistol, and now and then a rifle, and, thanks to Mr. Weldon's former instructions, would bring down various specimens of the feathered tribe.