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Brown Wolf
P a r t II
One summer day, a man came to the cottage. He said his name was Skiff Miller. He had come from the North to visit his sister.
As soon as the dog saw him, he ran to the man and licked his hands.
“Wolf, Wolf, what are you doing?” said Madge.
“His name isn’t Wolf,” Skiff Miller said. “It’s Brown. He was my dog. How long have you had him?”
“How do you know he’s your dog?” Irvine asked.
“Because he is,” said Miller. “The dog’s mine. Look here,” and Skiff Miller turned to the dog. “Brown! Right!” The dog turned to the right. Then Miller ordered the dog to do several other things that working dogs in the North are taught to do.
“He was my best dog,” Skiff Miller said proudly. “If he hadn’t been my dog, he wouldn’t have learned to do all those things.”
“But you are not going to take him away with you, are you?” Madge asked nervously. “Why not leave him here? He is happy. And what can you give him in that northland life?”
“Food, when I’ve got it, and that’s most of the time,” came the answer.
“And the work?”
“Yes, a lot of work,” Miller said. “Work without end, and cold — that’s what he’ll get when he comes with me. But he likes it. He knows that life. And you don’t know anything about it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. That’s where the dog belongs, and that’s where he’ll be happiest.”
“I don’t believe he’s your dog. Perhaps you have seen him sometime. Any dog in Alaska can be ordered to do things,” Walt said.
“Maybe Mr Miller is right,” his wife said. “I am afraid he is. Certainly Wolf answers to the name of ‘Brown’. And he was friendly towards Mr Miller and licked his hands. You know that’s something he never did to anybody before.”
“I suppose you’re right, Madge,” Walt said. “Wolf isn’t Wolf, but Brown, and I think he belongs to Mr Miller.”
“Perhaps Mr Miller will sell him,” she said. “We can buy him.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said Skiff Miller. “The dog was a good worker. He’s done a lot of work for me, and maybe he has got a right to choose. He must decide for himself. I’ll say good-bye and go away. If he wants to stay, he can stay. If he
wants to come with me, let him come. I won’t call him to come and don’t you call him to come back.”
For some time Wolf watched Skiff Miller go, waiting for him to return. Then he ran after him and tried to stop him.
Then the dog ran back to where Irvine and his wife sat and tried to make Irvine go to Miller. He wanted to be with his old
master and the new one at the same time. At this moment Miller disappeared.
The dog lay down at Irvine’s feet. Madge was happy, but a few minutes later the dog got up and ran away. He never turned his head. Quicker and quicker he ran along the road and in a few minutes was gone.
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