Bowser The Hound by Thornton W. Burgess
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Thornton W. Burgess >> Bowser The Hound
[Illustration: "AS I LIVE," HE MUTTERED, "THAT IS BOWSER THE HOUND!"
_Page 29._]
BOWSER THE HOUND
BY
THORNTON W. BURGESS
_With Illustrations by_
_HARRISON CADY_
This book, while produced under wartime conditions, in full compliance
with government regulations for the conservation of paper and other
essential materials, is COMPLETE AND UNABRIDGED
GROSSET & DUNLAP
Publishers
New York
_Printed by arrangement with Little, Brown, and Company_
_Copyright, 1920,_
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
=Dedication=
TO THE CHILD'S LOVING PLAYMATE,
LOYAL PROTECTOR
AND STAUNCH ALLY
--THE DOG,
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I OLD MAN COYOTE LEADS BOWSER AWAY 1
II OLD MAN COYOTE PLAYS A TRICK 6
III WHAT HAPPENED TO BOWSER 10
IV POOR BOWSER 15
V BOWSER SPENDS A BAD NIGHT 20
VI THE SURPRISE OF BLACKY THE CROW 25
VII BLACKY THE CROW TAKES PITY ON BOWSER 30
VIII HOW BLACKY THE CROW HELPED BOWSER 34
IX OLD MAN COYOTE GIVES OUT DARK HINTS 39
X HOW REDDY FOX INVESTIGATED 44
XI A LITTLE UNPLEASANTNESS 49
XII THE CLEVERNESS OF OLD MAN COYOTE 54
XIII THE MISCHIEVOUS LITTLE NIGHT BREEZE 59
XIV THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING INSIDE AND OUTSIDE 64
XV REDDY'S FORLORN CHANCE 69
XVI WHY REDDY WENT WITHOUT A CHICKEN DINNER 74
XVII FARMER BROWN'S BOY DROPS A PAN OF CORN 79
XVIII MUTUAL RELIEF 84
XIX WHERE WAS BOWSER THE HOUND? 89
XX WHERE BOWSER WAS 93
XXI BOWSER BECOMES A PRISONER 98
XXII FARMER BROWN'S BOY LOOKS IN VAIN 103
XXIII BOWSER'S GREAT VOICE 107
XXIV BLACKY TRIES TO GET HELP 112
XXV BLACKY CALLS ON REDDY FOX 117
XXVI RED WITS AND BLACK WITS 122
XXVII THE ARTFULNESS OF BLACKY 127
XXVIII REDDY FOX DREAMS OF CHICKENS 131
XXIX REDDY TRIES TO AROUSE BLACKY'S PITY 136
XXX BLACKY THE CROW IS ALL PITY 141
XXXI BLACKY IS MUCH PLEASED WITH HIMSELF 146
XXXII BLACKY WAITS FOR REDDY 151
XXXIII REDDY WATCHES THE FAT HENS 156
XXXIV PATIENCE AND IMPATIENCE 161
XXXV THINGS HAPPEN ALL AT ONCE 166
XXXVI REDDY HIDES THE FAT HEN 171
XXXVII FARMER BROWN'S BOY HAS A GLAD SURPRISE 176
XXXVIII REDDY GOES BACK FOR HIS FAT HEN 181
XXXIX A VANISHED DINNER 186
XL WHERE WAS REDDY'S DINNER? 191
XLI WHAT BLACKY THE CROW SAW 196
XLII ALL IS WELL THAT ENDS WELL 201
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"As I live," he muttered, "that is Bowser the Hound!" _Frontispiece_
Over at the gate of Farmer Brown's henyard he could
see a dark form 53
Somewhere not very far ahead of him was a house 96
On broad wings it sailed over to that hollow stump 199
CHAPTER I
OLD MAN COYOTE LEADS BOWSER AWAY
Though great or small the matter prove
Be faithful in whate'er you do.
'Tis thus and only thus you may
To others and yourself be true.
_Bowser the Hound._
Old Man Coyote is full of tricks. People with such clever wits as his
usually are full of tricks. On the other hand Bowser the Hound isn't
tricky at all. He just goes straight ahead with the thing he has to do
and does it in the most earnest way. Not being tricky himself, he
sometimes forgets to watch out for tricks in others.
One day he found the fresh trail of Old Man Coyote and made up his mind
that he would run down Old Man Coyote if he had to run his legs off to
do it. He always makes up his mind like that whenever he starts out to
hunt. You know there is nothing in the world Bowser enjoys quite so much
as to hunt some one who will give him a long, hard run. Any time he will
go without eating for the pleasure of chasing Reddy or Granny Fox, or
Old Man Coyote.
Now Old Man Coyote was annoyed. He was and he wasn't afraid of Bowser
the Hound. That is to say he was afraid to fight Bowser, but he wasn't
afraid to be hunted by Bowser, because he was so sure that he was smart
enough to get away from Bowser. If Bowser had appeared at almost any
other time Old Man Coyote wouldn't have been so annoyed. But to have
Bowser appear just then made him angry clear through. You see he had
just started out to get his dinner.
"What business has that good-for-nothing dog over here anyway, I'd like
to know," he muttered, as he ran swiftly through the Green Forest. "What
right has he to meddle in other folks' business? I'll just teach that
fellow a lesson; that's what I'll do! I'll teach him that he can't
interfere with me not be sorry for it."
So Old Man Coyote ran and ran and ran, and never once did he try to
break his trail. In fact, he took pains to leave a trail that Bowser
could follow easily. After him Bowser ran and ran and ran, and all the
time his great voice rang out joyously. This was the kind of a hunt he
loved. Out of the Green Forest into the Old Pasture, Old Man Coyote led
Bowser the Hound. Across the Old Pasture and out on the other side they
raced. Farther and farther away from home Old Man Coyote led Bowser the
Hound. Instead of circling back as usual, he kept on. Bowser kept on
after him. By and by he was in strange country, country he had never
visited before. He didn't notice this. He didn't notice anything but the
splendid trail Old Man Coyote was making. He didn't even realize that he
was getting tired. Always in his nose was the tantalizing scent of Old
Man Coyote. Bowser was sure that this time he would catch this fellow
who had fooled him so often before.
CHAPTER II
OLD MAN COYOTE PLAYS A TRICK
Of people who play tricks beware,
Lest they may get you in a snare.
You cannot trust them, so watch out
Whenever one may be about.
_Bowser the Hound._
There is such a thing as being too much interested in the thing you are
doing. That is the way accidents very often happen. A person will get so
interested in something that he will be blind and deaf to everything
else, and so will walk straight into danger or trouble of some kind.
Now just take the case of Bowser the Hound. Bowser was so interested in
the chase of Old Man Coyote that he paid no attention whatever to
anything but the warm scent of Old Man Coyote which the latter was
taking pains to leave. Bowser ran with his nose in Old Man Coyote's
tracks and never looked either to left or right. He would lift his head
only to look straight ahead in the hope of seeing Old Man Coyote. Then
down would go his nose again to follow that scent.
So Bowser didn't notice that Old Man Coyote was leading him far, far
away from home into country with which he was quite unacquainted. Bowser
has a great, deep, wonderful voice which can be heard a very long
distance when he bays on the tracks of some one he is hunting. It can
be heard a very long distance indeed. But far as it can be heard, Bowser
was far, far beyond hearing distance from Farmer Brown's house before
Old Man Coyote began to even think of playing one of his clever tricks
in order to make Bowser lose his scent. You see, Old Man Coyote intended
to lead Bowser into strange country and there lose him, hoping that he
would not be able to find the way home.
Old Man Coyote is himself a tireless runner. He is not so heavy as is
Bowser, so does not tire as easily. Then, too, he had not wasted his
breath as had Bowser with his steady baying. Old Man Coyote could tell
by the sound of Bowser's voice when the latter was beginning to grow
tired, and he could tell by the fact that he often had a moment or two
to sit down and rest before Bowser got dangerously near.
So at last Old Man Coyote decided that the time had come to play a
trick. By and by he came to a river. At that point there was a high,
overhanging bank. On the very edge of this bank Old Man Coyote made a
long leap to one side. Then he made another long leap to the big trunk
of a fallen tree. He ran along this and from the end of it made still
another long leap, as long a leap as he could. Then he hid in a little
thicket to see what would happen.
CHAPTER III
WHAT HAPPENED TO BOWSER
When a Coyote seems most honest, watch him closest.
_Bowser the Hound._
Bowser was very, very tired. He wouldn't admit it even to himself, for
when he is hunting he will keep on until he drops if his wonderful nose
can still catch the scent of the one he is following. Bowser is
wonderfully persistent. So, though he was very, very tired, he kept his
nose to the ground and tried to run even faster, for the scent of Old
Man Coyote was so strong that Bowser felt sure he would soon catch him.
Bowser didn't look to see where he was going. He didn't care. It was
enough for him to know that Old Man Coyote had gone that way, and where
Old Man Coyote could go Bowser felt sure he could follow. So, still
baying with all his might and making the hills ring with the sound of
his great voice, Bowser kept on.
Hidden in a little thicket, stretched out so that he might rest better,
Old Man Coyote listened to that great voice drawing nearer and nearer.
There was a wicked grin on Old Man Coyote's face, and in his yellow eyes
a look of great eagerness. In a few minutes Bowser came in sight, his
nose in the trail Old Man Coyote had left. Into Bowser's voice crept a
new note of eagerness as his nose picked up the scent stronger than
ever. Straight on he raced and it seemed as if he had gained new
strength. His whole thought was on just one thing--catching Old Man
Coyote, and Old Man Coyote knew it.
Bowser didn't see that he was coming to a steep bank. He didn't see it
at all until he reached the edge of it, and then he was going so fast
that he couldn't stop. Over he went with a frightened yelp! Down, down
he fell, and landed with a thump on the ice below. He landed so hard
that he broke the ice, and went through into the cold, black water.
Old Man Coyote crept to the edge of the bank and peeped over. Poor
Bowser was having a terrible time. You see, the cold water had taken
what little breath his fall had not knocked out of him. He doesn't like
to go in water anyway. You know the hair of his coat is short and
doesn't protect him as it would if it were long. Old Man Coyote grinned
wickedly as he watched Bowser struggling feebly to climb out on the ice.
Each time he tried he slipped back, and all the time he was whimpering.
Old Man Coyote grinned more wickedly than ever. I suspect that he hoped
that Bowser would not be able to get out. But after a little Bowser did
manage to crawl out, and stood on the ice, shivering shaking. Once more
Old Man Coyote grinned, then, turning, he trotted back towards Farmer
Brown's.
CHAPTER IV
POOR BOWSER
Follow a crooked trail and you will find a scamp at the end.
_Bowser the Hound._
Poor Bowser! He stood shivering and shaking on the ice of the strange
river to which Old Man Coyote had led him, and he knew not which way to
turn. Not only was he shivering and shaking from his cold bath, but he
was bruised by his fall from the top of the steep bank, and he was so
tired by his long run after Old Man Coyote that he could hardly stand.
Old Man Coyote had stayed only long enough to see that Bowser had
managed to get out of the water, then had turned back towards the Old
Pasture, the Green Meadows and the Green Forest near Farmer Brown's. You
see, Old Man Coyote knew the way back. He would take his time about
getting there, for it really made no particular difference to him when
he reached home. He felt sure he would be able to find something to eat
on the way.
But with Bowser it was very different. Poor Bowser didn't know where he
was. It would have been bad enough under any circumstances to have been
lost, but to be lost and at the same time tired almost to death, bruised
and lame, wet and chilled through, was almost too much to bear. He
hadn't the least idea which way to turn. He couldn't climb up the bank
to find his own trail and follow it back home if he wanted to. You see,
that bank was very steep for some distance in each direction, and so it
was impossible for Bowser to climb it.
For a few minutes he stood shivering, shaking and whimpering, not
knowing which way to turn. Then he started down the river on the ice,
for he knew he would freeze if he continued to stand still. He limped
badly because one leg had been hurt in his fall. After a while he came
to a place where he could get up on the bank. It was in the midst of
deep woods and a very, very lonely place. Hard crusted snow covered the
ground, but it was better than walking on the ice and for this Bowser
was thankful.
Which way should he turn? Where should he go? Night was coming on; he
was wet, cold and hungry, and as utterly lost as ever a dog was. Poor
Bowser! For a minute or two he sat down and howled from sheer
lonesomeness and discouragement. How he did wish he had left Old Man
Coyote alone! How he did long for his snug, warm, little house in Farmer
Brown's dooryard, and for the good meal he knew was awaiting him there.
Now that the excitement of the hunt was over, he realized how very, very
hungry he was, and he began to wonder where he would be able to get
anything to eat. Do you wonder that he howled?
Old Man Coyote, trotting along on his way home, heard that howl and
understood it. Again he grinned that wicked grin of his, and stopped to
listen. "I don't think he'll hunt me again in a hurry," he muttered,
then trotted on. Poor Bowser! Hunting for anything but his home was
farthest from his thoughts.
CHAPTER V
BOWSER SPENDS A BAD NIGHT
There's nothing like just sticking to
The thing you undertake to do.
There'll be no cause then, though you fail,
To hang your head or drop your tail.
_Bowser the Hound._
Bowser was lost, utterly lost. He hadn't the least idea in which
direction Farmer Brown's house was. In fact he hadn't the least idea
which way to turn to find any house. It was the most lonely kind of a
lonely place to which Old Man Coyote had led him and there played the
trick on him which had caused him to tumble into the strange river.
But Bowser couldn't stand still for long. Already jolly, round, red Mr.
Sun was going to bed behind the Purple Hills, and Bowser knew that cold
as had been the day, the night would be still colder. He must keep
moving until he found a shelter. If he didn't he would freeze. So
whimpering and whining, Bowser limped along.
Bowser was not afraid to be out at night as some folks are. Goodness,
no! In fact, on many a moonlight night Bowser had hunted Reddy Fox or
Granny Fox all night long. Never once had he felt lonesome then. But now
it was very, very different. You see, on those nights when he had hunted
he always had known where he was. He had known that at any time he
could go straight home if he wanted to. That made all the difference in
the world.
It would have been bad enough, being lost this way, had he been feeling
at his best. Being lost always makes one feel terribly lonesome.
Lonesomeness is one of the worst parts of the feeling of being lost. But
added to this was the fact that Bowser was really not in fit condition
to be out at all. He was wet, tired, lame and hungry. Do you wonder that
he whimpered and whined as he limped along over the hard snow, and
hadn't the least idea whether he was headed towards home or deeper into
the great woods?
For a long time he kept on until it seemed to him he couldn't drag one
foot after another. Then quite suddenly something big and dark loomed up
in front of him. It really wasn't as big as it seemed. It was a little
house, a sugar camp, just such a one as Farmer Brown has near his home.
Bowser crept to the door. It was closed. Bowser sniffed and sniffed and
his heart sank, for there was no scent of human beings. Then he knew
that that little house was deserted and empty. Still he whined and
scratched at the door. By and by the door opened ever so little, for it
had not been locked.
Bowser crept in. In one corner he found some hay, and in this he curled
up. It was cold, very cold, but not nearly as cold as outside that
little house. So Bowser curled up in the hay and shivered and shook and
slept a little and wished with all his might that he never had found the
tracks of Old Man Coyote.
CHAPTER VI
THE SURPRISE OF BLACKY THE CROW
The harder it is to follow a trail
The greater the reason you should not fail.
_Bowser the Hound._
At all seasons of the year Blacky the Crow is something of a traveler.
But in winter he is much more of a traveler than in summer. You see, in
winter it is not nearly so easy to pick up a living. Food is quite as
scarce for Blacky the Crow in winter as for any of the other little
people who neither sleep the winter away nor go south. All of the
feathered folks have to work and work hard to find food enough to keep
them warm. You know it is food that makes heat in the body.
So in the winter Blacky is in the habit of flying long distances in
search of food. He often goes some miles from the thick hemlock-tree in
the Green Forest where he spends his nights. You may see him starting
out early in the morning and returning late in the afternoon.
Now Blacky knew all about that river into which Bowser the Hound had
fallen. There was a certain place on that river where Jack Frost never
did succeed in making ice. Sometimes things good to eat would be washed
up along the edge of this open place. Blacky visited it regularly. He
was on the way there now, flying low over the tree-tops.
Presently he came to a little opening among the trees. In the middle of
it was a little house, a rough little house. Blacky knew all about it.
It was a sugar camp. He knew that only in the spring of the year was he
likely to find anybody about there. All the rest of the year it was shut
up. Every time he passed that way Blacky flew over it. Blacky's eyes are
very sharp indeed, as everybody knows. Now, as he drew near, he noticed
right away that the door was partly open. It hadn't been that way the
last time he passed.
"Ho!" exclaimed Blacky. "I wonder if the wind blew that open, or if
there is some one inside. I think I'll watch a while."
So Blacky flew to the top of a tall tree from which he could look all
over the little clearing and could watch the door of the little house.
For a long time he sat there as silent as the trees themselves. Nothing
happened. He began to grow tired. Rather, he began to grow so hungry
that he became impatient. "If there is anybody in there he must be
asleep," muttered Blacky to himself. "I'll see if I can wake him up.
Caw, caw, ca-a-w, caw, caw!"
Blacky waited a few minutes, then repeated his cry. He did this three
times and had just made up his mind that there was nobody inside that
little house when a head appeared in the doorway. Blacky was so
surprised that he nearly fell from his perch.
"As I live," he muttered, "that is Bowser the Hound! It certainly is.
Now what is he doing way over here? I've never known him to go so far
from home before."
CHAPTER VII
BLACKY THE CROW TAKES PITY ON BOWSER
Beneath a coat of ebon hue
May beat a heart that's kind and true.
The worst of scamps in time of need
Will often do a kindly deed.
_Bowser the Hound._
"Caw, ca-a-w!" exclaimed Blacky the Crow. Bowser looked up to the top of
the tall tree where Blacky sat, and in his great, soft eyes was such a
look of friendliness that it gave Blacky a funny feeling. You know
Blacky is not used to friendly looks. He is used to quite the other
kind. Bowser came out of the old sugar house where he had spent the
night and whined softly as he looked up at Blacky, and as he whined he
wagged his tail ever so slightly. Blacky didn't know what to make of it.
He had never been more surprised in his life. He didn't know which
surprised him most, finding Bowser 'way over here where he had no
business to be, or Bowser's friendliness.
As for Bowser, he had spent such a forlorn, miserable night, and he was
so terribly lonesome, that the very sound of Blacky's voice had given
him a queer thrill. Never had he thought of Blacky the Crow as a friend.
In fact, he never thought much about Blacky at all. Sometimes he had
chased Blacky out of Farmer Brown's corn-field early in the spring but
that is all he ever had had to do with him. Now, however, lonesome and
lost as he was, the sound of a familiar voice made him tingle all over
with a friendly feeling. So he whined softly and wagged his tail feebly
as he looked up at Blacky sitting in the top of a tall tree. Presently
Bowser limped out to the middle of the little clearing and turned first
this way and then that way. Then he sat down and howled dismally. In an
instant Blacky the Crow understood; Bowser was lost.
"So that's the trouble," muttered Blacky to himself. "That silly dog has
got himself lost. I never will be able to understand how anybody can
get lost. I never in my life was lost, and never expect to be. But it is
easy enough to see that Bowser is lost and badly lost. My goodness, how
lame he is! I wonder what's happened to him. Serves him right for
hunting other people, but I'm sorry for him just the same. What a
helpless creature a lost dog is, anyway. I suppose if he doesn't find a
house pretty soon he will starve to death. Old Man Coyote wouldn't.
Reddy Fox wouldn't. They would catch something to eat, no matter where
they were. I suppose they wouldn't thank me for doing it, but just the
same I think I'll take pity on Bowser and help him out of his trouble."
CHAPTER VIII
HOW BLACKY THE CROW HELPED BOWSER
The blackest coat may cover the kindest heart.
_Bowser the Hound._
When Blacky the Crow said to himself that he guessed he would take pity
on Bowser and help him out of his trouble, he knew that he could do it
without very much trouble to himself. Perhaps if there had been very
much trouble in it, Blacky would not have been quite so ready and
willing. Then again, perhaps it isn't fair to Blacky to think that he
might not have been willing. Even the most selfish people are sometimes
kindly and unselfish.
Blacky knew just where the nearest house was. You can always trust
Blacky to know not only where every house is within sight of the places
he frequents, but all about the people who live in each house. Blacky
makes it his business to know these things. He could, if he would, tell
you which houses have terrible guns in them and which have not. It is by
knowing such things that Blacky manages to avoid danger.
"If that dog knows enough to follow me, I'll take him where he can at
least get something to eat," muttered Blacky. "It won't be far out of my
way, anyway, because if he has any sense at all, I won't have to go all
the way over there."
So Blacky spread his black wings and disappeared over the tree-tops in
the direction of the nearest farmhouse.
Bowser watched him disappear and whined sadly, for somehow it made him
feel more lonesome than before. But for one thing he would have gone
back to his bed of hay in the corner of that sugar camp. That one thing
was hunger. It seemed to Bowser that his stomach was so empty that the
very sides of it had fallen in. He just _must_ get something to eat.
So, after waiting a moment or two, Bowser turned and limped away
through the trees, and he limped in the direction which Blacky the Crow
had taken. You see, he could still hear Blacky's voice calling "Caw,
caw, caw", and somehow it made him feel better, less lonesome, you know,
to be within hearing of a voice he knew.
Bowser had to go on three legs, for one leg had been so hurt in the fall
over the bank that he could not put his foot to the ground. Then, too,
he was very, very stiff from the cold and the wetting he had received
the night before. So poor Bowser made slow work of it, and Blacky the
Crow almost lost patience waiting for him to appear.
As soon as Bowser came in sight, Blacky gave what was intended for a
cheery caw and then headed straight for the place he had started for
that morning, giving no more thought to Bowser the Hound. You see, he
knew that Bowser would shortly come to a road. "If he doesn't know
enough to follow that road, he deserves to starve," thought Blacky.