Читать книгу Shadow, the Sheep-Dog - Enid blyton - Страница 3

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Once upon a time three small fat puppies lay in a barrel lined with warm straw. They were brown and white and almost as round as the barrel.

“You are the best puppies in the world!” their mother said to them each day as she licked them with her soft pink tongue. They pushed against her and made little puppy noises.

A big farmer came to the barrel and looked inside it. “Well, Jessie,” he said to the mother-dog. “And how are those fat puppies of yours?”

Jessie looked up at her master with her great brown eyes and waved her feathery tail. She was a beautiful sheep-dog, a clever collie who knew every inch of the hills around. For a little while she was having a rest from her work, and was looking after her family of puppies. They were nearly three weeks old, and all of them could see now. They had been born with their eyes shut, but one by one their blue puppy-eyes had opened, and now they watched the world outside the barrel, and wondered about it.

THEY WATCHED THE WORLD OUTSIDE THE BARREL.

“Well, Jessie, you’ve three fine pups,” said her master. “Hie, Johnny, have you seen the puppies to-day?”

A small boy ran up and grinned down at Jessie. “Of course I have,” he said. “I’ve seen them about a hundred times, haven’t I, Jess?”

The sheep-dog wagged her tail, and one of the puppies tried to bite it. The boy laughed.

“Dad, let’s keep one of the pups,” he said. “I’d so much like a dog of my own. I’d like that one with the white mark on its forehead.”

“No—we’ve got enough dogs,” said his father. “Give Jessie some fresh water, Johnny—she’s spilt it all.”

He went off, and Johnny ran to get some water. He brought back the dish and set it down. He patted Jessie on her soft head.

“That little pup is just exactly like you, Jess,” he said. “I’d so much like him. Wouldn’t you like to keep just one of your pups?”

Jessie wagged her tail. She couldn’t imagine anyone being so cruel as to take her puppies away from her. She did not know that puppies and kittens go to new homes as soon as they are old enough.

The three puppies grew and grew. Jessie was a good mother, and took care of them well. The one like her was a merry fellow. He played with her tail, bit her nose, worried her ears, and tried to frighten her with his funny puppy-barks.

Soon they were all old enough to scamper about the yard. Johnny had fun with them then! Every time they saw him they ran at his ankles, got between his legs and nearly upset him.

“Johnny always looks as if he is going in for an obstacle race when he goes across the yard with the puppies!” laughed his mother. “They’re a fine family. But it’s time they went to their new homes now.”

Johnny was sad. Jessie was unhappy. They were her puppies. Why should they be given away? Did people give away their children to other families? No, they didn’t. Well then, why should anyone give away Jessie’s puppies?

But it was no use. Homes were found for the three puppies, and their new owners promised to fetch the pups the next week. Johnny’s mother said she would be glad when they were gone now, because they had each found their way to the kitchen, and were under her feet all day long.

“That little pup like Jessie is the worst of the lot!” she said. “His nose is in everything! He’d better go first.”

“Oh, no, Mother! I love him the best!” said Johnny. “He must be the last.”

Jessie knew that her pups were going away. She spoke to them sadly. “Soon you will leave this first home of yours,” she said. “You will go out into the world, and have a new master and mistress. You must be brave and good dogs, always do what you are told, and never use your teeth on anyone unless your master orders you to.”

“Are you coming with us?” asked the puppies, half frightened.

“Of course not,” said the big sheep-dog. “I have my work to do here. Look—here comes someone to take one of you. I wonder which it will be.”

A farmer came up with Johnny’s father. They stood and looked into the barrel. The puppies all ran out and scampered around the legs of the two men. One pup tried to bite at the leather gaiters of the visitor.

“He’s a fine fellow,” said the farmer, picking up the puppy in a big hairy hand. “He’ll do for me! I’ll take him off now. Say good-bye to your mother, little fellow.”

Jessie gave her puppy one last lick. She sniffed at the farmer’s boots. “Good-bye,” she said to her pup, who was feeling very excited and grown-up all of a sudden. “This man is a good one, but bad-tempered. See that you do all you are told or you will be well whipped.”

The puppy trotted off on his short legs after his new master. His tail wagged. He felt so grand that he could hardly bark good-bye to his two brothers.

They stood and watched him. One puppy wanted to go with him, but the other pup was glad not to leave his mother. Johnny came up and saw that the one puppy was missing.

“Bother! One gone already,” he said. “That’s the worst of puppies and kittens—they go off to new homes as soon as they are big enough to play with!”

Next day somebody came for the second puppy. It was Mrs. Hillocks, who lived down in the village. Jessie was glad to see her, for Mrs. Hillocks was a kind old woman. She kept a poultry-run at the back of her house, and wanted a dog to guard it for her. She looked at the two puppies. One crouched down beside Jessie, afraid of leaving her, but the other trotted up and pawed her ankles.

“You’re the one for me!” said the old lady. “You won’t let any foxes or tramps get my hens, will you? You’re a grand little dog, you are! Come away with me.”

That was the second puppy. For two or three days nobody came for the third one. He missed his brothers terribly. He whined for them and hunted for them all over the place. Johnny was sad for him, and whistled to him whenever he came near.

The puppy soon followed Johnny everywhere. He trotted along at Johnny’s heels, and the boy laughed at the little fat creature.

“You’re like my shadow, following me wherever I go!” he said. “I wish you were mine. I’d call you Shadow!”

“Johnny, Johnny! That puppy has got to be sent away by rail,” shouted his father. “Get a box and put some straw in it, and a big biscuit. Give him a drink before he goes. Put him on the farm-cart and I’ll take him down to the station.”

Johnny was cross. He hated the last puppy to go. But he had to obey his father, so very soon the puppy was safely in the box, with straw around him and a big biscuit to gnaw. He whined and tried to get out. Jessie ran to the box and spoke to him.

“It’s your turn now. Be good and brave and obedient, and remember that you are a fine sheep-dog. Good-bye, little puppy!”

The box jolted on the farm-cart all the way to the station. It was rather near the edge—and suddenly an extra big jolt shook the box right off the cart on to the road. The farmer was just shouting at his horse at that moment, and he noticed nothing.

The bump shook all the breath out of the puppy’s body—and then he saw that the side of the box had been broken by the fall. In a trice he was out of the box and tearing home on his short puppy-legs for all he was worth. He had escaped.

“Woof, woof!” he cried to his mother, when he scampered into the yard. “I’m back! Woof, Johnny, I’m back!”

“Gracious! How did you get out of the box, you rascal?” said Johnny, hugging the puppy. “Well, well—you’ll have to go by to-morrow’s train.”

The farmer was most astonished to find box and puppy gone when he reached the station—but he found the box on the way home, so he guessed what had happened. The puppy was put into another box the next day, and this time he arrived safely at the station. The guard put him on the train in the box, and with a loud whistle the train left the station.

The puppy was terrified. He hated the rumble of the train. He hated the whistle. He shivered and trembled and whined. The guard took no notice. The train stopped at the next station, and the guard left his van to go on to the platform. The puppy lifted up his voice and whined piteously.

A little girl heard him. She peeped into the guard’s van. “What can be the matter with the animal in that box?” she thought. “Is it hurt? I’ll look and see.”

IN TWO SHAKES OF A DUCK’S TAIL THE PUPPY LEAPT OUT.

She lifted up the lid—and in two shakes of a duck’s tail the puppy leapt out, jumped down on to the platform, rushed out of the gate and tore up the dusty country lane! He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know where he was going—but he was happy because he had got out of that dreadful box and away from that roaring train!

After a bit he stopped and lifted his nose into the air. He sniffed. Which was the right way home? He stood for a moment and then into his head came the way to go. He must turn the corner and go across those fields. He didn’t know why he must go that way. He only knew it was the right way home.

AFTER ABOUT HALF AN HOUR A VERY TIRED, THIRSTY, FOOT-SORE PUPPY LIMPED IN AT THE FARMYARD GATE.

And after about half an hour a very tired, thirsty, foot-sore puppy limped in at the farmyard gate. How good it was to be back! There were the hens. There was the duck-pond—and there was dear old Johnny! With a whine the puppy ran limping over the yard—and Johnny stared at him in the utmost astonishment.

“What! You back again! However did you escape this time? I never in my life knew a puppy so determined as you! Dad! Dad! Here’s the last pup back again.”

The farmer came out of his shed and stared in surprise. “We can’t seem to get rid of him!” he said. “He’s a bold little fellow.”

“Dad! Can’t I keep him!” cried Johnny, picking up the trembling puppy. “I do love him so, and he’s such friends with me. He’ll always come back, no matter how often we send him away. I’m sure he will.”

“Well—it’s quite certain he wants to stay here,” said the farmer. “All right—you can keep him. I like him myself—he’s a good little chap. He can be yours—but see you train him well with the sheep, for he’s got to earn his keep like the other dogs, Johnny!”

“Oh, Dad! Thanks!” cried Johnny, and he tore indoors to tell his mother. He put down the puppy, who at once ran at his heels as he always did.

“Mother! The pup’s back again—and I’m to keep him for my own!” cried Johnny. “Do you know what I’m going to call him? I shall call him Shadow—for he follows me about just like my shadow does. Oh, I’m so happy with a dog of my own. Shadow! Shadow! How do you like your name?”

“Woof!” said Shadow, and wagged his tail proudly. He had a name. He had a master. He had a home. He was a proper dog now—and tails and whiskers, he’d show everyone he was worth keeping!