There was no trace of Dan, no sign
or sound when she would even have welcomed the eerie whistle. The wolf-dog
was already at play with Joan. She was on his back and he darted off in an
effortless gallop, winding to and fro among the rocks. Most children would
have toppled among the stones at the first of his swerves, but Joan clung
like a burr, both hands dug into his hair, shrieking with excitement.
Sometimes she reeled and almost slid at one of those lightning turns, for
the game was to almost unseat her, but just as she was sliding off Bart
would slacken his pace and let her find a firm seat once more. They wound
farther and farther away, and suddenly Kate cried, terror-stricken: "Joan!
Come back!"
A tug at the ear of the wolf-dog swung them around; then as they
approached, the fear left the mind of the mother and a new thought came in
its place. She coaxed Joan from Bart--they could play later on, she
promised, to their heart's desire--and led her into the house. Black Bart
followed to the door, but not all their entreaty or scolding could make him
cross the threshold.
Pages:
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177