Many of Scotch's actions were beyond the scope of instinct. One day,
while still young, he mastered a new situation by the use of his wits.
While he was alone at the house, some frightened cattle smashed a fence about
a quarter of a mile away and broke into the pasture. He was after them
in an instant. From a mountain-side ledge above, I watched proceedings with
a glass. The cattle were evidently excited by the smell of some animal
and did not drive well. Scotch ignored the two pasture gates, which
were closed, and endeavored to hurry the cattle out through the break through
which they had entered. After energetic encouragement, all but one
went flying out through the break. This one alternated between stupidly
running back and forth along the fence and trying to gore Scotch. Twice
the animal had run into a corner by one of the gates, and his starting for
the corner the third time apparently gave Scotch an idea. He stopped
heeling, raced for the gate, and leaping up, bit at the handle of the sliding
wooden bar that secured it. He repeated this biting and tearing at
the handle until the bar slid and the gate swung open. After chasing
the animal through, he lay down by the gate.
When I came into view he attracted my attention with sharp barks and
showed great delight when I closed the gate. After this, he led me
to the break in the fence and then lay down. Though I looked at him
and asked, "What do you want done here?" he pretended not to hear.
That was none of his business!
He had much more individuality than most dogs. His reserve force
and initiative usually enabled him to find a way and succeed with situations
which could not be mastered in his old way. The gate-opening was one
of the many incidents in which these traits brought triumph.
One of his most remarkable achievements was the mastering of a number
of cunning coyotes which were persistent in annoying him and willing to make
an opportunity to kill him. In a sunny place close to the cabin, the coyotes
one autumn frequently collected for a howling concert. This irritated Scotch,
and he generally chased the howlers into the woods. Now and then he
lay down on the yelping-grounds to prevent their prompt return. After
a time these wily little wolves adopted tantalizing tactics, and one day,
while Scotch was chasing the pack, a lame coyote made a detour and came behind
him. In the shelter of a willow-clump the coyote broke out in a maddening
Babel of yelps and howls. Scotch instantly turned his back to suppress
him. While he was thus busy, the entire pack doubled back into the
open and taunted Scotch with attitude and howls.
Twice did the pack repeat these annoying, defying tactics. This
serious situation put Scotch on his mettle. One night he went down
the mountain to a ranch-house fifteen miles away. For the first time
he was gone all night. The next morning I was astonished to find another collie
in Scotch's bed. Scotch was in a worried suspense until I welcomed
the stranger; then he was most gleeful. This move on his part told
plainly that he was planning something still more startling. Indeed
he was, but never did I suspect what this move was to be.
That day, at the first howl of the coyotes, I rushed out to see if
the visiting collie would assist Scotch. There were the coyotes in
groups of two and three, yelping, howling, and watching. Both dogs were mis-sing,
but presently they came into view, cautiously approaching the coyotes from
behind a screen of bushes. Suddenly the visiting collie dashed out
upon them. At the same instant Scotch leaped into a willow-clump and
crouched down; it was by this clump that the lame coyote had each time come
to howl behind Scotch.
While the visiting collie was driving the pack, the lame coyote again
came out to make his sneaking flank movement. As he rounded the willow-clump
Scotch leaped upon him. Instantly the other dog raced back, and both dogs
fell fiercely upon the coyote. Though lame, he was powerful, and finally
shook the dogs off and escaped to the woods, but he was badly wounded and
bleeding freely. The pack fled and came no more to howl near the cabin.
At bedtime, when I went out to see the dogs, both were away. Their
tracks in the road showed that Scotch had accompanied the neighboring collie
at least part of the way home.
On rare occasions Scotch was allowed to go with visitors into
the woods or up the mountainside. How-ever, he was allowed to accompany
only those who appreciated the companionship and the intelligence of a noble
dog or who might need him to show the way home.
One day a young woman from Michigan came along and wanted to climb
Long's Peak alone and without a guide. I agreed to consent to
her wish if she would take Scotch with her and also first climb one of the
lesser peaks on a stormy day, unaided. This climbing the young woman did,
and by so doing convinced me that she had a keen sense of direction and an
abun-dance of strength, for the day was a stormy one and the peak was completely
befogged with clouds. After this there was nothing for me to do but
allow her to climb Long's Peak.
Just as she was starting for Long's Peak that cool September morning,
I called Scotch and said to him: "Scotch, go with this young woman up Long's
Peak. Keep her on the trail, take good care of her, and stay with her
until she returns!" Scotch gave a few barks of satisfaction and started
with the young woman up the trail, carrying himself in a manner which indicated
that he was both honored and pleased. I felt that the strength and alertness
of the young woman, when combined with the faithfulness and watchfulness
of Scotch, would make the ascent a success, for the dog knew the trail as
well as any guide.
The young woman climbed swiftly until she reach-ed the rocky alpine
moorlands above timberline. Here she lingered long to enjoy the magnificent
scenery and the brilliant flowers. It was late in the afternoon when
she arrived at the summit of the Peak. After she had spent a little
time there, resting and absorbing the beauty and grandeur of the scene, she
started to return. She had not gone far and clouds and darkness came
on, and on a slope of slide rock she turned aside from the trail.
Scotch had minded his own affairs and enjoyed himself in his own way
all day long. Most of the time he had followed her closely, apparently
indifferent to what happened. But the instant the young woman left
the trail and started off in the wrong direction, he sprang ahead and took
the lead with an alert, aggressive air. The way in which he did this
should have suggested to her that he knew what he was about, but she did
not appreciate this fact. She thought he had become weary and
wanted to run away from her, so she called him back. Again she started in
the wrong direction. This time Scotch got in front of her refused to move.
She pushed him out of the way. Once more he started off in the right
direction and this time she scolded him and reminded him that his master
had told him to stay with her. Scotch dropped his ears, fell in behind
her, and followed meekly in her steps. He had tried to carry out the
first part of his master's orders; now he was resigned to the second part
of them.
After going a short distance, the young woman realized that she had
lost her trail but it never occurred to her that she had only to let Scotch
have his way and he would lead her safely home. However, she had the
good sense to stop where she was. And there, among the crags,
by the stained remnants of winter's snow, thirteen thousand feet above sea
level, she knew she must pass the night. The wind blew a gale and the
alpine booklet turned to ice, while, in the lee of a crag, shivering with
cold and hugging Scotch tight, she lay down to wait for daylight.
When darkness had come that evening and the young woman had not returned,
I sent a rescue party of four guides up the Peak. They suffered much
from the cold as they vainly searched among the crags through the dark hours
of the windy night. Just at sunrise one of the guides found her. She
was almost exhausted, but was still hugging Scotch tightly and only her fingers
were frostbitten. The guide gave her wraps and food and drink, and
started with her down the trail. And Scotch? Oh, as soon as the
guide appeared he left her and started home for breakfast. Scotch saved
this young woman's life by staying with her through the long, cold night.
She appreciated the fact, and was quick to admit that if she had allowed
the dog to have his own way about the trail she would have had no trouble.
Directory
of Stories by Enos A. Mills
Copyright 2000 by Enos Mills Cabin,
Temporal Mechanical Press
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