St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1883-12-15

and-forty times before, rescue some
buried traveller from the drifts. A roll
OF warm blankets was strapped on his
back, his barbed collar was put ON his
neck, a hunters flask of liquor was at
tached. and the good monks sent him
out with their prayers and blessings.
He never came back alive.
t'About mile from the monastery
he came to a freshly fallen avalanche in
the narrow road. That unerring in
stinct of his taught poor Barry that
some traveller lay under the soft, white
snow, and he set to work to find him.
He was right, for on the night before
one of those travelling fools of English
men who think every other country
better. than their own had tried to pass,
and had been overwhelmed with his
guides. With that marvellous scent
which his years of experience
had trained so perfectly Barry
was not long in finding him. As it
happened, he was behind a huge rock
when the avalanche fell, SO that he had
been partially screened from its force,
and, though covered under several feet
of snow, he had not been suffocated nor
frozen to death. The dog dug eagerly
with those strong forelegs of his, and
soon had made his way into the doing
Englishman's recess. As soon as he
reached him he barked vigorously and
commenced licking the snow from tho
mans face. His tongue and hos
breath revived the Englishman, who re-
gained consciousness only to suppose
that he was attacked by wolf. 1t was
not poor Barry's fault that he was
shaggy and uncouth, but men do not
stop to reason in such circumstances.
He carried pistols-all these travellers
do-and in a trice he had drawn one
and shot the brave dog whom he had
mistaken for an enemy, but who was
only trying to rescue him from death.
1.-THE shot was heard by the monks,
who fastened to the spot ard found the
Englishman struggling out of the drifts.
The dog was lying at the edge of the
pit, which he had dug with perhaps
hours of toll. He was not quite dead,
and he lived long enough to lick the
hand OF the father who had watched
over him all his life, and who cried like
child at his death.
..It was the creed of these holy men
to return good for evil, and they would
have cared for the man even if he had
not slain his preseryer through cruel
mistake They took him to the mon
astery, and gave him food and drink
until he was able to leave them, with
many blessings and a heavy purse of
gold. But they never could feel to him.
quite as they would if he had not slain
the noble animal which they all SO
priced. He regretted it deeply, of
course, but that couldn't help the mat
ter, and the reverend fathers were not
sorry when he left. His name was
Clinton, they say, and he was q Baro-
net in his own countrys where it was
pity he had not stayed. Barry was
taken to the monastery, where his skin
was stuffed, and some years afterward
this was removed to the museum in
Berne, where it is kept to this day.
"He was the last of the pure st.
Bernards, but he left his descendants
behind him, and by careful crossing
with Newfoundland new race was
produced almost exactly like the old,
only larger. A friend of mine in Berne
named Schumache has some superb an.
imals of this kind. and last year when,
he took one of them to the museum and
compared it to Barry he found that
they were different only in size. their
color and markings being the same.
There are many of these in the Alpine
monasteries now, but although brave
and intelligent the opening of the roads
has made them less and less needed
for the service which made their an
cestors SO distinguished. There never
has been another one like Barry, and
there never uill be. III ouisrilte Courier
journal.