Yet, On This First Night Of October, The Air Was
As Mild As May, And I Slept With The Fur Thrown Back.
I was much disturbed by the barking of a dog, an animal that I fear more
than any wolf.
A dog is vastly braver, and is besides supported by the
sense of duty. If you kill a wolf, you meet with encouragement and
praise; but if you kill a dog, the sacred rights of property and the
domestic affections come clamouring round you for redress. At the end of
a fagging day, the sharp cruel note of a dog's bark is in itself a keen
annoyance; and to a tramp like myself, he represents the sedentary and
respectable world in its most hostile form. There is something of the
clergyman or the lawyer about this engaging animal; and if he were not
amenable to stones, the boldest man would shrink from travelling afoot. I
respect dogs much in the domestic circle; but on the highway, or sleeping
afield, I both detest and fear them.
I was wakened next morning (Wednesday, October 2nd) by the same dog - for
I knew his bark - making a charge down the bank, and then, seeing me sit
up, retreating again with great alacrity. The stars were not yet quite
extinguished. The heaven was of that enchanting mild grey-blue of the
early morn. A still clear light began to fall, and the trees on the
hillside were outlined sharply against the sky. The wind had veered more
to the north, and no longer reached me in the glen; but as I was going on
with my preparations, it drove a white cloud very swiftly over the hill-
top; and looking up, I was surprised to see the cloud dyed with gold.
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