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Page 6
"Yes, you are all right. I like you. Let's be friends."
IV
THE OPEN-AIR CALL
That meeting with Desdemona in the walled inclosure at Shaws was the
beginning of many jolly days for Finn. Colonel Forde and his family were
both interested and amused by the warm friendship struck up between
their beautiful young bloodhound and the famous Finn, with his long
record of unique experiences on both sides of the world. Neither hound
found any meaning whatever, of course, in the laughing remark made to
the Master by Colonel Forde that afternoon, as they strolled round the
kennels, followed by the now inseparable Finn and Desdemona. The Colonel
paused to lay a hand affectionately on Finn's head, and, with a smile in
the Master's direction, he said:
"I suppose it's the old Shakespearian story over again, eh, Finn?
Desdemona loves you for the dangers you have passed--is that it? Well,
your friendship will have to be strictly platonic, my son, for this
particular Desdemona is pledged to no less puissant a prince than
Champion Windle Hercules, the greatest bloodhound sire of this age. 'A
marriage has been arranged,' as the papers say, Finn; and I hope it
won't put your long muzzle too badly out of joint--what?"
The Master laughed, and both men passed on, Finn following cheerfully
enough by Desdemona's side, conscious only that the men-folk were
talking in friendly, kindly fashion, and reeking nothing of the meaning
of their words. From his point of view, men-folk use such a mort of
words at all times, most of them quite unnecessary, and only a few of
them comprehensible. To folk accustomed, like the dog people, to
intercourse confined chiefly to looks and movements, the continuous
babble of words which humans indulge in is one of their most puzzling
attributes. When the Master really wanted Finn to understand anything,
the wolfhound very rarely failed him. But Colonel Forde's references to
Othello--well, it was all so much puppy talk, just amiable, meaningless
nickering to Finn and Desdemona.
That evening, while the Master and his folk were dining at Nuthill, Finn
arose from a nap in the hall and, strolling out through the garden,
loped easily away across the shoulder of Down betwixt Shaws and Nuthill
to visit Desdemona. He found her close to the walled inclosure by the
stable, and together they whiled away a couple of evening hours on the
springy thyme-and-clover-scented turf of the Downs. Just as darkness was
taking the place of twilight the scuttering of an over-venturesome
rabbit's tail caught Finn's eye, and cost that particular bunny its
life. Desdemona, to whom this little event opened up a quite new chapter
in life, was hugely excited over the kill, and could hardly allow Finn,
with his veteran's skill, to tear the pelt from the creature's warm body
before she made her first meal of rabbit's hind quarters.
It was a trivial episode enough, and especially so for a hunter of
Finn's experience, who, in his time, had pulled down dozens of old-men
kangaroos, not to mention the smaller fry of the Australian bush. And
yet, though he did not show it as Desdemona did, this trifling incident
was of quite epoch-marking importance for Finn, and stirred him
profoundly.
"Hullo, old friend! What of the hunting? I declare, you've quite the old
bush-ranging air to-night. Where have you been?" asked the Master, when
Finn rejoined his own family circle in the hall at Nuthill, toward
bedtime that night. Finn silently nuzzled the under side of the Master's
right wrist; but, though his dark eyes were eloquent, it was beyond him
to explain either his doings or his emotions. Yet the Master was not
altogether without understanding of these.
"Fact is," he said to Betty Murdoch, as he affectionately rubbed one of
Finn's ears, "I believe this old gallant has quite fallen in love with
Miss Desdemona, and I could swear he's been hunting in her company
to-night. He has all the look of it. I suspect it carries him back to
old days, past the quarantine, past even Australia--eh, old chap?--and
back to his hunting days about these very Downs, when we were at the
cottage, you know. I had to be a great deal in town in those days,
before we went to Australia, and Finn ran pretty much wild through his
last summer in England."
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