Then another came and another, and little Satan's
head got quite confused. They were a queer-looking lot of curs and
half-breeds from the negro settlement at the edge of the woods, and
though Satan had little experience, his instincts told him that all was
not as it should be, and had he been human he would have wondered very
much how they had escaped the carnage that day. Uneasy, he looked around
for Hugo; but Hugo had disappeared. Once or twice Hugo had looked around
for Satan, and Satan paying no attention, the mastiff trotted on home in
disgust. Just then a powerful yellow cur sprang out of the darkness over
the railroad track, and Satan sprang to meet him, and so nearly had the
life scared out of him by the snarl and flashing fangs of the new-comer
that he hardly had the strength to shrink back behind his new friend,
the half-breed shepherd.
A strange thing then happened. The other dogs became suddenly quiet, and
every eye was on the yellow cur. He sniffed the air once or twice, gave
two or three peculiar low growls, and all those dogs except Satan lost
the civilization of centuries and went back suddenly to the time when
they were wolves and were looking for a leader.
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