"See, Fritz, that dog will throttle a wolf with one snap of his jaws. For
courage and strength, he is perfection. He is not five years old, but he
is in his prime. I need not tell you that he is trained to hunt the boar.
Every time we come across a herd of them I tremble for Lieverle; his
attack is too straightforward, he flies on the game as straight as an
arrow. That is why I am afraid of the brutes' tusks. Lie down, Lieverle,
lie on your back!"
The dog obeyed, and presented to view his flesh-coloured sides.
"Look, Fritz, at that long white seam without any hair upon it from under
the thigh right up to the chest. A boar did that. Poor creature! he was
holding him fast by the ear and would not let go; we tracked the two by
the blood. I was the first up with them. Seeing my Lieverle I gave a
shout, I jumped off my horse, I caught him between my arms, flung him
into my cloak, and brought him home. I was almost beside myself. Happily
the vital parts had not been wounded. I sewed up his belly in spite of
his howling and yelling, for he suffered fearfully; but in three days he
was already licking his wound, and a dog who licks himself is already
saved.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61