Evening star., 1927-05-22

J., Beside him, struggling weakly ye
valiantly against the driving snow
came the mother sheep. Caliban wa.
coming slowly, adapting his pace Il
hers, stopping when she would stop
yet with unmistakable signs that he
expected her to struggle forward with
him. And the iamb--the weak. bleat
ing little thing-swung from his teeth
as lightly as If it had been puff OF
thistledown.
| x y X
CALIBAN never begged for ca
~ resses. He was not the sort Of dog
to leap and bark and wag his tail when
| the master came home. Between him
and Leon Surprenon there was an un.
| derstanding-a mans understandings
of mutual respect and restraint. A
word of commentator sufficed him. or
sometimes pat on the head, But
never. as long as Leon had owned the
ban had ever sought to ingratiate him.
self by being friendly and playful. as
the other dogs would do.
Nevertheless. Caliban had his jeal.
ousies, fierce, deep and primitive. He
killed dog that Leon petted casu-
ally; he took 1t by the throat and
crushed it with his great teeth, then
flung the quivering body down and
stared at it with those baleful close.
set eyes. There was blood on the per.
petual snarl of his lifted lip.
Then fearlessly he awaited his pun.
ishment. Leon beat him cruelty. But
Caliban never f1inched or whimpered.
Just stood there hunching himself up
and shutting his eyes. licking his lips
bit as the blows hurt him more and
more. When it was over. he shook
himself. stretched. then pricked up his
cars and looked Leon in the face. as
if to say: We'll. that's over Now
have YOU any orders?" If he had
whimpered once--but he did not. Leon
swore furiously and had the dead dog
buried in the meadow He did not
caress the other dogs after that. They
were valuable to him--but Caliban was
priceless. And Leon knew that the
only way of breaking his stubborn
spirit would be to kill him.
Caliban had one abiding hatred
cats. Whereas the other dogs chased
them joyously or ignored them as in
ferior creatures, Caliban loathed them.
chased them savagely. killed them mer.
cilessly. He had short brutal way
of doing 1t. II he caught luckless
cat-and he could run like q yearling
buck--he would give II one shake, like
the crack of whip. and then toss it
into the air. 1t usually died with a
broken neck and a broken back. And,
by the law of the survival of the
f1ttest, the cats that escaped from
Caliban's savage sallies were wise in
their generation and kept out of his
way.
But there was one small cat, not
yet out Of kittenhood. that had either
come recently to the ranch, or else,
by an accident, had not crossed Cali.
bans path--a gentle little cat, all
gray. with a white paw which she
was always licking as if proud of it.
One day she sat summing herself on
the porch before the house. Caliban
came by that way and saw her.
With the savage. deep-throated
growl that the other cats had learned
to fear as the most deadly thing of
life, he leaped at her, caught her,
flung her up into the air.
Perhaps it was her supreme igno.
rance of danger that saved her from
death. For the gentle little cat had
not tried TO run from the oncoming
whirlwind Of teeth and cleaning eyes.
She lay where Caliban had flung her,
daZed. inert. staring at the terrible
dog. with round, uncomprehending
eyes. He saw that he had not killed
her. He came nearer. ready to shake
her with the peculiarly deadly twist
that he knew so well. Still she did
not move. She could not. She only
mewed, a very small, pitiful NEW,
and her stunned body twitched little
Caliban hesitated, shifted at her,
turned away. After all, he seemed to
tell himself, you could not kill weak.
helpless thing like that--a thing that
could not run. j3'iS -