Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-02-24
Sancho, a Brave Friend.
by NJ. f. AUDUBON.


coyes and points just as II had done To-
ages. The tide flowed in and out Just as Il
had in the days when only red men inbab-
tied the island. and few were the dwellings
| north of Canal street.
A villa or two built by some wealthy,
ease-loving citizen might be seen at rare
| intervals on the heights above 1t; but silence
reigHed everywhere else, except when a
| farm wagon or travelling carriage rolled up
or down the old Kingsbridge road. the only
| street or road of any kind leading % tn
| city OF New York
into this quiet and beautiful land there
wandered in search of retired home. Au
| dubon the naturalist. one of the great men
| of the world. He selected a spot close 10
| the river. where the forest trees sheiterei
| myriads OF his friends ana acauainlaaces,
| the birds and animals
This estate he and his two sCEs named
'Minniasland in loving honor Of wife acd
| mother minnie is Scotch. meaning ittle
mother. and uTOn It they built large
house gardeners house, carpenter shop
| and blachsmiths forge. with ali otfe' con-.
venienccs necessary for the comfort ~ a
| family remote from others.
| Both Of tie sons married and brought
! their wives to this home. and !N a Few
! years chiIdren's happy voices told II
! patriarchal family.
| To these children the mHmory ~ that
| time is an enchanted one. They t.td few
! other human playmates, but ih"y ba1
plenty OF dumb friends. The great en-
! closures " here deer fed and buffalo ranged,
| and the kennels where many dogs were
| kept We're alike delightful Among TIRE III
| mates of tie poultry yard was a Mus oVy
| duck the gift of q ueishhor 20 Madame
| Audubon To this bird the children gave
| the name OF the Grand MoSul. De- Was 50
fierce Il bitter that none Of them d2f't ven
frrp m
| tribe fed al his approach.
| one morning there came by the van which
conveyed luggage. provisions. enc, 10 anu
/ from Harlem. the nearest railway station.
| a huge crate. 1t contained "A live animal
| Round his neck was tied card OF which
| was written My name Is SancAo. IN
| hand which was easily recognized by the
| naturalist as that Of a well-bcloved friend
Sancho soon became accustomed % his
! new surroundings. attached himself "ars-
I ly to his master and made friends OF an
the dogs the place except MuHth'. III"
| Spanish bloodhound
| During the long winter he enjoyed him
self and he eu0eAred himself to the children
| by digging them from under the snow
| when they played Avalanche" and buried
| themselves under the deep drifts, or rolled
themselves down the steep path that he
| might pull them up again. He was a play
| fellow worth having
| When June came, and tribe OF bathers
| went daily to the beach for their swim.
| Sancho plunged joyously into the river ana
| uutlriugly carried the little ones up anu
| down on his back, moving so easily through
the water and holding them 80 strongly
| that the anxious mothers LOST all their
| fears and enjoyed the fun as much as the
| children.
In July came two young cousins from
| college to pass the long vacation IN the
| hospitable home at Minniesland. They adj
! mired Sancho's wonderful strength ana
| beauty They guessed at his age and his
| career in the far-away snOwlaud. where
| he vas born and trained by the good
| monks of ST. Bernard At last one OF them
got on the splendid animals back and was
| urging Sancho to swim with him he
| did with the little ones. when the voice %
| the master shouted to him to stop. Audi
| bon seldom displayed anger. but this Of
| fender was admonished in no gentle way
1 Nothing which hurt an animal was ever
| tolerated by the naturalist.
| Get off my dog" he cried: you are too
/ heavy, young man. He cannot swim Win
! you on his back
! The offender instantly obeyed. But some
! days afterward he said to the other young
! visitor: Harry. If you will come to the
| Point this afternoon we will go in swim
| ming and try Sancho where Uncle Audubon
| will not see us
Harry agreed and VIII leading sancho
| by the collar. for he was rather unwilling
| to go with them, the two conspirators
walked UP the shore to long. fiat rock
which stretched out into the river. forming
| what was called 1.-THE Point"
There they .undressed and Sancho leaped
1
! many a prank and swarm matches with
each other until they We're tired. Then
| Harry climbed upon Sancho's back and the
| noble animal bravely swan to the shore
| with his burden. Then, wagging his tail
and shaking himself he announced that he
was not averse to the sport himself. The
| delighted comrades rode again and again
| on the back of the great dog. until at last
| he threw himself painting on the rock ana
| refused TO go into the water again.
| Just once more, Sancho." cried VIII.
land then we'll let you off. Rest awhile,
! and then you can do your great feat
| What's that?" asked Harry.
why. swim to the shore with both of
on his back Wen all three swim out alone
to the bend, and then see if he can carry
J double"
! The obedent dog. after slight hesita
| tIon. followed them. though swimming
! slowly. Just they reached the bend
! shout from the shore warned them that
| they were observed and they sfw Clement
! the coachman. and Nicholas the gardener
| coming fast to the shore.
stop! stop. young gentlemen" cried
| Clement, the dog can't do it. He mustn't
"Oh. yes. he canr' they returned. and
| pulled themselves upon Sanchos back.
| -4e struggled through the water manfulIy
| and actually performed the feat, but on
reacnIng the rock he rolled over on one side
| and gasped
Run for brandy to the house Nick.
| crieu Clement. BE quick, or hen die.
I
| young men, half dressed, helped Clement
| to rub Sancho as he lay painting and help
| less. When Nicholas returned with him
| came Audubon and his sons. Victor and
| John. In vain did they try TO restore ami
nation 4 few drops Of blood flowed from
Sancho's lips John tenderly lifted his
head. and then his spirit fed.
Audubon gave one look at his dog turned
away to the house and was seen no more
that night. Victor and John, however,
were not forbearing and II is certain
that the young cousins quite understood
that their offense had been a grievous one.
For several years Saucho's beautiful skin
carefully dressed and prepared. lay on a
lounge In the painting room. and the chill
dren who had so loved him used to pat Il
and sigh as they told his sorrowful story in
the freight to the younger ones who had
never seen splendid Sancho, the st. Ber-
nard.