In Desert and Wilderness

XXV

The object of the Captain Glenn and Doctor Clary expedition was not at all to find Stas and Nell. It was a large and abundantly equipped government expedition despatched to explore the eastern and northern slopes of the gigantic mountain Kilima-Njaro, as well as the little-known vast regions lying north of that mountain. The captain as well as the doctor knew indeed about the abduction of the children from Medinet el-Fayûm, as intelligence of it was published in the English and Arabian papers, but they thought that both were dead or were groaning in slavery under the Mahdi, from whom thus far not a European had been rescued. Clary, whose sister married Rawlinson in Bombay and who was very much charmed by little Nell during the trip to Cairo, felt keenly her loss. But with Glenn, he mourned also for the brave boy. Several times they sent despatches from Mombasa to Mr. Rawlinson asking whether the children were found, and not until the last unfavorable reply, which came a considerable time before the starting of the caravan, did they finally lose all hope.

And it never even occurred to them that the children imprisoned in distant Khartûm could appear in that locality. Often, however, they conversed about them in the evening after finishing their daily labors, for the doctor could by no means forget the beautiful little girl.

In the meantime the expedition advanced farther and farther. After a long stay on the eastern slope of Kilima-Njaro, after exploring the upper courses of the Sabak and Tany rivers, as well as Kenia Mountain, the captain and doctor turned in a northerly direction, and after crossing the marshy Guasso-Nijiro they entered upon a vast plain, uninhabited and frequented by countless herds of antelopes. After three months of travel the men were entitled to a long rest, so Captain Glenn, discovering a small lake of wholesome brown water, ordered tents to be pitched near it and announced a ten days' stop.

During the stop the white men were occupied with hunting and arranging their geographical and scientific notes, and the negroes devoted themselves to idleness, which is always so sweet to them. Now it happened one day that Doctor Clary, shortly after he arose, when approaching the shore, observed between ten and twenty natives of Zanzibar, belonging to the caravan, gazing with upturned faces at the top of a high tree and repeating in a circle:

"Ndege? Akuna ndege? Ndege?" (A bird? Not a bird? A bird?)

The doctor was short-sighted, so he sent to his tent for a field-glass; afterwards he looked through it at the object pointed out by the negroes and great astonishment was reflected upon his countenance.

"Ask the captain to come here," he said.

Before the negroes reached him the captain appeared in front of the tent, for he was starting on an antelope-hunt.

"Look, Glenn," the doctor said, pointing with his hand upwards.

The captain, in turn, turned his face upwards, shaded his eyes with his hand, and was astonished no less than the doctor.

"A kite," he exclaimed.

"Yes, but the negroes do not fly kites. So where did it come from?"

"Perhaps some kind of white settlement is located in the vicinity or some kind of mission."

"For three days the wind has blown from the west, or from a region unknown and in all probability as uninhabited as this jungle. You know that here there are no settlements or missions."

"This is really curious."

"We had better get that kite."

"It is necessary. Perhaps we may ascertain where it came from."

The captain gave the order. The tree was a few tens of yards high, but the negroes climbed at once to the top, removed carefully the imprisoned kite, and handed it to the doctor who, glancing at it, said:

"There is some kind of inscription on it. We'll see." And blinking with his eyes he began to read.

Suddenly his face changed, his hands trembled.

"Glenn," he said, "take this, read it, and assure me that I did not get a sunstroke and that I am in my sound mind."

The captain took the bamboo frame to which a sheet was fastened and read as follows:

"Nelly Rawlinson and Stanislas Tarkowski, sent from Khartûm to Fashoda and conducted from Fashoda east from the Nile, escaped from the dervishes. After long months' travel they arrived at a lake lying south of Abyssinia. They are going to the ocean. They beg for speedy help."

At the side of the sheet they found the following addition written in smaller letters:

"This kite, the 54th in order, was flown from the mountains surrounding a lake unknown to geography. Whoever finds it should notify the Directory of the Canal at Port Said or Captain Glenn in Mombasa.

Stanislas Tarkowski."

When the captain's voice died away, the two friends gazed at each other in silence.

"What is this?" Doctor Clary finally asked.

"I do not believe my own eyes!" the captain answered.

"This, of course, is no illusion."

"No."

"It is plainly written, 'Nelly Rawlinson and Stanislas Tarkowski.'"

"Most plainly."

"And they may be somewhere in this region."

"God rescued them, so it is probable."

"Thank Him for that," exclaimed the doctor fervently. "But where shall we seek them?"

"Is there no more on the kite?"

"There are a few other words but in the place torn by the bough. It is hard to read them."

Both leaned their heads over the sheet and only after a long time were they able to decipher:

"The rainy season passed long ago."

"What does that mean?"

"That the boy lost the computation of time."

"And in this manner he endeavored to indicate the date, therefore this kite may have been sent up not very long ago."

"If that is so, they may not be very far from here."

The feverish, broken conversation lasted for a while, after which both began to scrutinize the document and discuss every word inscribed upon it. The thing appeared, however, so improbable that if it were not for the fact that this occurred in a region in which there were no Europeans at all – about three hundred and seventy-five miles from the nearest coast – the doctor and the captain would have assumed that it was an ill-timed joke, which had been perpetrated by some European children who had read the newspapers describing the abduction, or by wards of missions. But it was difficult not to believe their eyes; they had the kite in hand and the little rubbed inscriptions were plainly in black before them.

Nevertheless, there were many things which they could not comprehend. Where did the children get the paper for the kite? If it had been furnished to them by a caravan, then they would have joined it and would not have appealed for help. For what reason did the boy not attempt to fly with his little companion to Abyssinia? Why did the dervishes send them east of the Nile into an unknown region? In what manner did they succeed in escaping from the hands of the guards? Where did they hide? By what miracle through long months of journey did they not die from starvation, or become the prey of wild animals? Why were they not killed by savages? To all these questions there was no reply.

"I do not understand it, I do not understand it," repeated Doctor Clary; "this is perhaps a miracle of God."

"Undoubtedly," the captain answered.

After which he added:

"But that boy! For that, of course, was his work."

"And he did not abandon the little one. May the blessings of God flow upon his head!"

"Stanley – even Stanley would not have survived three days under these circumstances."

"And nevertheless they live."

"But appeal for help. The stop is ended. We start at once."

And so it happened. On the road both friends scrutinized the document continually in the conviction that they might obtain from it an inkling of the direction in which it was necessary for them to go with help. But directions were lacking. The captain led the caravan in a zigzag way, hoping that he might chance upon some trace, some extinct fire, or a tree with a sign carved on the bark. In this manner they advanced for a few days. Unfortunately they entered afterwards upon a plain, entirely treeless, covered with high heather and tufts of dried grass. Uneasiness began to possess both friends. How easy it was to miss each other in that immeasurable expanse, even with a whole caravan; and how much more so two children, who, as they imagined, crept like two little worms somewhere amid heather higher than themselves! Another day passed. Neither fires at night nor tin boxes, with notes in them, fastened on the tufts helped them any. The captain and the doctor at times began to lose hope of ever succeeding in finding the children and, particularly, of finding them alive.

They sought for them zealously, however, during the following days. The patrols, which Glenn sent right and left, finally reported to him that farther on began a desert entirely waterless; so when they accidentally discovered cool water in a cleft it was necessary to halt in order to replenish their supplies for the further journey.

The cleft was rather a fissure, a score of yards deep and comparatively narrow. At its bottom flowed a warm spring, seething like boiling water, for it was saturated with carbonic acid. Nevertheless, it appeared that the water, after cooling, was good and wholesome. The spring was so abundant that the three hundred men of the caravan could not exhaust it. On the contrary the more water they drew from it the more it flowed, and filled the fissure higher.

"Perhaps sometime," Doctor Clary said, "this place will be a resort for the health-seeker, but at present this water is inaccessible for animals because the walls of the fissure are too steep."

"Could the children chance upon a similar spring?"

"I do not know. It may be that more of them can be found in this locality. But if not, then without water they must perish."

Night fell. Fires were lit. Nevertheless, a boma was not erected, for there was nothing to build one with. After the evening refreshments, the doctor and the captain sat upon folding chairs, and lighting their pipes, began to converse of that which lay most upon their hearts.

"Not a trace," declared Clary.

"It had occurred to me," Glenn replied, "to send ten of our men to the ocean coast with a despatch that there is news of the children. But I am glad that I did not do that, as the men would perish on the way, and, even if they reached the coast, why should we awaken vain hopes?"

"And revive the pain – "

The doctor removed the white helmet from his head and wiped his perspiring forehead.

"Listen," he said; "if we should return to that lake and order the men to hew down trees and at night light a gigantic bonfire, perhaps the children might descry it."

"If they were near we would find them anyway, and if they are far off the rolling ground would hide the fire. Here the plain is seemingly level, but in reality is in knobs, wavy as the ocean. Besides, by retreating we would definitely lose the possibility of finding even traces of them."

"Speak candidly. You have no hope?"

"My dear sir, we are grown-up, strong, and resourceful men, and think of what would become of us if we two were here alone, even with weapons – but without supplies and men – "

"Yes! alas – yes! I picture to myself the two children going in such a night across the desert."

"Hunger, thirst, and wild animals."

"And nevertheless the boy writes that under such conditions they proceeded for long months."

"There is also something in that which passes my comprehension."

For a long time could be heard amid the stillness only the sizzling of the tobacco in the pipes. The doctor gazed into the depth of the night, after which he said in a subdued voice:

"It is already late, but sleep has deserted me. And to think that they, if alive, are straying somewhere in the moonlight amid these dry heathers – alone – such children! Do you remember, Glenn, the little one's angelic countenance?"

"I remember it, and cannot forget."

"Ah, I would allow my hand to be cut off, if – " And he did not finish, for Glenn started up suddenly as if scalded.

"A sky-rocket in the distance!" he shouted.

"A sky-rocket!" repeated the doctor.

"Some kind of caravan is ahead of us."

"Which might have found the children."

"Perhaps. Let us hurry to them."

"Forward!"

The captain's orders resounded in one moment throughout the camp. The Zanzibarians sprang up suddenly on their feet. Soon torches were lit. Glenn in reply to the distant signal directed that a few rockets, one after the other, be sent up; and afterwards that the salvo of rifle shots be continued. Before a quarter of an hour elapsed the whole camp was on the way.

From the distance shots replied. There was no doubt that this was some kind of European caravan, appealing, from unknown reasons, for help.

The captain and the doctor raced forward, swept alternately by fear and hope. Would they find the children or would they not? The doctor said in his soul that, if not, they in the further journey could seek only for their remains amid those terrible heather-bushes.

After a half-hour one of those knobs, of which they had spoken before, obstructed the further view of the friends. But they were already so near that they heard distinctly the clatter of a horse's hoofs. In a few minutes, and on the top of the elevation, appeared a rider, holding before him a white object.

"Torches up," commanded Glenn.

In the same moment the rider brought his horse into the circle of light.

"Water! Water!"

"The children!" Doctor Clary cried.

"Water!" Stas repeated.

And he almost hurled Nell into the captain's arms and leaped out of the saddle.

But immediately he staggered, and fell like a corpse upon the ground.

CONCLUSION

Joy in the camp of Captain Glenn and Doctor Clary was boundless, but the curiosity of both Englishmen was subjected to a severe test. For if previously they could not comprehend how the children by themselves could cross those vast wilds and deserts separating that region from the Nile and Fashoda, then at present they could not at all understand in what manner "the little Pole," as they called Stas, not only accomplished that but appeared before them as the leader of a caravan, armed with European weapons – with an elephant bearing a palanquin, with horses, tents, and a considerable supply of provisions. At the sight of this, the captain spread out his arms and said every little while: "Clary, I have seen a great deal but I have not seen such a boy," – and the honest doctor repeated with no less astonishment: "And he rescued the little one from slavery and saved her!" After which he hastened to the tents to see how the children were and whether they slept well.

And the children, having appeased their thirst and hunger and changed their clothes, slept as though slain, during the whole of the following day; the people in their caravan did the same. Captain Glenn tried to question Kali about Stas' deeds and adventures during the journey, but the young negro, opening one eye, only answered: "The great master can do everything," – and again fell asleep. It positively became necessary to postpone questions and explanations for a few days.

In the meantime the two friends conferred over the return journey to Mombasa. They had, as it was, penetrated farther and explored more territory than they were commissioned to; they decided, therefore, to return without delay. The captain indeed was lured very much by that lake unknown to geography, but a regard for the health of the children and a desire to return them as quickly as possible to their afflicted fathers prevailed. The doctor insisted, however, that it would be necessary to rest on the cool heights of Kenia Mountain or Mount Kilima-Njaro. From there they also decided to send news to the parents and summon them to come to Mombasa.

The return journey began, after due rest and baths in the warm springs, on the third day. It was at the same time a day of parting from Kali. Stas persuaded the little one that to take him farther with them – to the ocean or to Egypt – would be selfishness on their part. He said to her that in Egypt, and even in England, Kali would be nothing more than a servant, while when he assumed the government of his nation, he, as king, could spread and establish Christianity, soften the savage customs of the Wahimas, and make of them not only a civilized but a good people. The same thing he repeated in substance to Kali.

At the leave-taking, however, a multitude of tears were shed of which even Stas was not ashamed, for he and Nell had passed with Kali through many evil and good moments and not only had learned to appreciate his honest heart, but had conceived a sincere affection for him. The young negro lay long at the feet of his "Bwana kubwa" and the "Good Mzimu." Twice he returned to look at them for a while, but finally the moment of separation came and the two caravans started in opposite directions.

It was only during the journey that the narrative of the adventures of the two little travelers began. Stas, at one time prone to be a trifle boastful, now did not brag at all. He simply had performed too many great deeds, he had undergone too much, and was too developed not to understand that words should not be greater than acts. There was, after all, enough of deeds, though related in the most modest manner. Each day during the scorching "white hours" and at evening during the stops there glided before the eyes of Captain Glenn and Doctor Clary pictures, as it were, of those occurrences and incidents through which the children had passed. So they saw the kidnapping from Medinet-el-Fayûm and the awful journey on camel-back across the desert – and Khartûm and Omdurmân, resembling hell on earth, and the ill-boding Mahdi. When Stas related his reply to the Mahdi, when the latter tried to induce him to change his faith, both friends rose and each of them warmly shook Stas' right hand, after which the captain said:

"The Mahdi is not living!"

"The Mahdi is not living?" Stas repeated with astonishment.

"Yes," spoke out the doctor. "He choked himself with his own fat, or, in other words, he died of heart trouble, and the succession of his government has been assumed by Abdullahi."

A long silence ensued.

"Ha!" said Stas. "He did not expect when he despatched us for our destruction to Fashoda that death would first overtake him."

And later he added:

"But Abdullahi is still more cruel than the Mahdi."

"For that reason mutinies and massacres have already begun," the captain replied, "and the whole edifice which the Mahdi reared will sooner or later tumble down."

"And after that who will succeed?"

"England," the captain answered.* [*The reign of Abdullahi continued for ten years. The decisive blow to the dervish power was delivered by Lord Kitchener, who almost totally annihilated them in a great bloody battle and afterwards ordered the Mahdi's tomb to be razed.]

In the further course of the journey, Stas told about his journey to Fashoda, about the death of old Dinah, of their start from Fashoda to uninhabited regions, and their search for Smain in them. When he reached that part where he killed the lion and afterwards Gebhr, Chamis, and the two Bedouins, the captain interrupted him with only two words: "All right!" after which he again squeezed his right hand, and with Clary listened with increasing interest about the taming of the King, about settling in Cracow, about Nell's fever, of finding Linde, and the kites which the children sent up from Karamojo Mountains. The doctor who, with each day, became more and more deeply attached to little Nell, was impressed so much by everything which threatened her most, that from time to time he had to strengthen himself with a few swallows of brandy, and when Stas began to narrate how she almost became the prey of the dreadful "wobo" or "abasanto," he caught the little maid in his arms as if in fear that some new beast of prey was threatening her life.

And what he and the captain thought of Stas was best evidenced by two despatches, which within two weeks after their arrival at the foot-hills of Kilima-Njaro they expressly sent to the captain's deputy in Mombasa with instructions that the latter should transmit them to the fathers. The first one, edited carefully, for fear that it should create too astounding a sensation, and forwarded to Port Said, contained the following words:

"Thanks to boy, favorable news about children. Come to Mombasa."

The second, more explicit, addressed to Aden, was of this purport:

"Children are with us. Well. Boy a hero."

On the cool heights at the foot of Kilima-Njaro they stopped fifteen days, as Doctor Clary insisted that this was imperative for Nell's health, and even for Stas'. The children with their whole souls admired this heaven-kissing mountain, which possesses all the climates of the world. Its two peaks, Kibo and Kima-Wenze, during daytime were most frequently hidden in thick fogs. But when in fair nights the fogs suddenly dispersed and from the twilight the eternal snows on Kima-Wenze blushed with a rosy luster at a time when the whole world was plunged in darkness, the mountain appeared like a bright altar of God, and the hands of both children at this sight involuntarily were folded in prayer.

For Stas the days of worry, uneasiness and exertion had passed. They had yet before them a month of travel to Mombasa and the road led through the charming but unhealthy forest of Taveta; but how much easier it was to travel now, with a numerous caravan well provided with everything and over familiar trails, than formerly to stray in the wilderness with only Kali and Mea. Besides, Captain Glenn was now responsible for the journey. Stas rested and hunted. Aside from this, having found among the implements of the caravan a chisel and hammers, he was in the cooler hours engaged in chiseling upon a great gneiss rock the inscription "Jeszcze Polska nie zginela,"* [* "Poland is not yet lost." The title of the most popular Polish national march. —Translator's note.] for he wished to leave some trace of their sojourn in that region.

The Englishmen, to whom he translated the inscription, were astonished that it never occurred to the boy to perpetuate his own name on that rock. But he preferred to carve the words he had chosen.

He did not cease, however, to take care of Nell and awoke in her such unbounded confidence that when Clary asked her whether she did not fear the storms on the Red Sea, the little maid raised her beautiful, calm eyes and only answered, "Stas will know what to do." Captain Glenn claimed that truer evidence of what Stas was to the little one and greater praise for the boy no one would be able to pronounce.

Though the first despatch to Pan Tarkowski at Port Said had been worded with much care, it nevertheless created such a powerful sensation that joy almost killed Nell's father. But Pan Tarkowski, though he was an exceptionally self-controlled person, in the first moments after the receipt of the despatch, knelt in prayer and began to beseech God that the intelligence should not prove to be a delusion, a morbid chimera, bred from sorrow, longing, and pain. Why, they had both toiled so hard to learn that the children were even alive! Mr. Rawlinson had despatched to the Sudân whole caravans, while Pan Tarkowski, disguised as an Arab, had penetrated with the greatest danger to his life as far as Khartûm, but all was futile. The men who could have given any news died of smallpox, of starvation, or perished during the continual massacres, and of the children there was not the slightest clue. In the end both fathers lost all hope and lived only on recollections, in the deep conviction that here in life now nothing awaited them and that only death would unite them with those dearest beings who were everything for them in the world.

In the meantime unexpected joy, almost beyond their strength, fell upon them. But it was linked with uncertainty and amazement. Neither could by any means comprehend in what manner news of the children came from that part of Africa, that is, Mombasa. Pan Tarkowski supposed that they might have been ransomed or stolen by some Arabian caravan which from the eastern coast ventured into the interior for ivory and penetrated as far as the Nile. The words of the despatch, "Thanks to boy," he explained in this manner: that Stas had notified the captain and the doctor by letter where he with Nell could be found. Nevertheless, many things it was impossible to unravel. On the other hand, Pan Tarkowski understood quite clearly that the information not only was favorable, but very favorable, as otherwise the captain and the doctor would not have dared to awaken hopes in them, and above all would not have summoned them to Mombasa.

The preparations for the journey were brief, and the second day after the receipt of the despatches both engineers, with Nell's teacher, were on the deck of a great steamer of the "Peninsular and Oriental Company," which was en route for India and on the way stopped at Aden, Mombasa, and Zanzibar. At Aden awaited them the second despatch: "Children are with us. Well. Boy a hero." After reading it Mr. Rawlinson walked about almost out of his senses from joy, and, squeezing Pan Tarkowski's palm, he repeated: "You see, it was he who saved her. To him I owe her life." Pan Tarkowski, not desiring to display too much weakness, answered only, setting his teeth, "Yes! The boy acquitted himself bravely," but when he retired to the privacy of his cabin he wept from happiness. At last the hour arrived when the children fell into the embraces of their fathers. Mr. Rawlinson seized his recovered little treasure in his arms and Pan Tarkowski long clasped his heroic boy to his bosom. Their misfortune disappeared as pass away whirlwinds and storms of the desert. Their lives were filled anew with serenity and happiness; longing and separation had augmented their joy. But the children were surprised that the hair of their "papas" had whitened completely during the separation.

They returned to Suez on a splendid French steamer belonging to the "Messageries Maritimes Company," which was full of travelers from the islands Réunion, Mauritius, Madagascar, and Zanzibar. When the news spread that on board were children who had escaped from dervish slavery Stas became an object of general curiosity and universal praise. But the happy quartette preferred to lock themselves in a great cabin which the captain gave up to them and spend there the cooler hours in narrations. Nell, too, took part in them, chirping like a little bird, and at the same time, to the amusement of all, beginning each sentence with an "and." So, sitting on her father's knees and raising to him her beautiful little eyes, she spoke in this manner: "And, papa, they kidnapped us and conveyed us on camels – and Gebhr struck me – and Stas defended me – and we came to Khartûm and there people died of hunger – and Stas worked to get dates for me – and we were at the Mahdi – and Stas did not want to change his religion – and the Mahdi sent us to Fashoda – and afterwards Stas killed a lion and all of them – and we lived in a big tree, which is called Cracow – and the King was with us – and I had a fever and Stas cured me – and killed a wobo and conquered the Samburus – and was always very kind to me – papa!"

In the same fashion she spoke about Kali, Mea, the King, Saba, Mount Linde, the kites, and the final journey until their meeting with the captain's and doctor's caravan. Mr. Rawlinson, listening to this chirping, checked his tears with difficulty, while Pan Tarkowski could not contain himself from pride and happiness, for even from these childish narratives it appeared that were it not for the bravery and energy of the boy the little one ran the risk of perishing, not once but a thousand times, without help.

Stas gave a more specific and complete account of everything. And it happened that during the narration of the journey from Fashoda to the waterfall, a great load fell off his heart, for when he told how he shot Gebhr and his companions, he hemmed and hawed and began to look uneasily at his father, while Pan Tarkowski knitted his brow, pondered a while, and after that gravely said:

"Listen, Stas! It is not allowable for any one to be lavish with death, but if anybody menaces your fatherland or puts in jeopardy the life of your mother, sister, or the life of a woman entrusted to your care, shoot him in the head and ask no questions. Do not reproach yourself on that account."

Mr. Rawlinson immediately after the return to Port Said took Nell to England, where he settled permanently. Stas was sent by his father to a school in Alexandria, where his deeds and adventures were less known. The children corresponded almost daily, but circumstances combined to prevent their seeing each other for ten years. The boy, after finishing school in Egypt, entered the Polytechnic in Zurich, after which, having secured his diploma, he was engaged in the construction of tunnels in Switzerland.

When ten years had passed, Pan Tarkowski retired from the service of the Canal Company, and he and Stas visited their friends in England. Mr. Rawlinson invited them to his home, near Hampton Court, for the whole summer. Nell had finished her eighteenth year and had grown into a maiden as charming as a flower, and Stas became convinced, at the expense of his own peace, that a man, who had completed twenty-four years, could nevertheless still think of ladies. He even thought of beautiful and dear Nell so incessantly that finally he decided to run away to whatever place his eyes would lead him.

But while in that state of mind, Mr. Rawlinson one day placed both of his palms on Stas' shoulders and, looking him straight in the eyes, said with an angelic benignity:

"Tell me, Stas, whether there is a man in the world to whom I could give my treasure and darling with greater confidence?"

The young couple married and remained in England until Mr. Rawlinson's death and a year later they started upon a long journey. As they promised to themselves to visit those localities in which they had spent their earliest years and afterwards at one time had wandered as children, they proceeded first of all to Egypt. The state of the Mahdi and Abdullahi had already been overthrown, and after its fall England, as Captain Glenn stated, "succeeded." A railroad was built from Cairo to Khartûm. The "sudds," or the Nilotic obstructions of growing water plants, were cleared so that the young couple could in a comfortable steamer reach not only Fashoda but the great Lake Victoria Nyanza. From the city of Florence lying on the shores of that lake they proceeded by a railroad to Mombasa. Captain Glenn and Doctor Clary had already removed to Natal, but in Mombasa there lived under the solicitous care of the local English authorities the King. The giant at once recognized his former master and mistress and particularly greeted Nell with such joyful trumpeting that the mangrove trees in the neighborhood shook as if they were swept by the wind. He recognized also old Saba, who outlived almost two-fold the years usually allotted to a dog and, though a trifle blind, accompanied Stas and Nell everywhere.