"RIP."

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19321, 7 May 1926, Page 20

"RIP."

(A SEW ZEALAND STOEiY.)

BY E. MARY GTJRNEY.

He was the most comical littlo dog you ever saw. No particular breed, with Beardie predominating. Black in colour and exceedingly undersized, of unprepossessing and rakish appearance, ho was the owner of a pair of the brightest and most inquiring eyes'l have ever seen in a dog.^ His present owner was my friend, Smith, of Auckland. That is to say, iSnnth thought he was Rip's owner. Rip had other ideasAon the subject. For some unfathomable reason, bmith was inordinately proud of Rip; which was,, to say the least of it, unreasonable. T lt appears that* one unpleasant-winter evening, Smith literally picked Rip out of the cutter in Queen Street,' and brought.,him homer-; for which mercy Rip show.fd - no gratitude whatever, merely condescending to reside with Smith until something, better turned up. If he—Rip—owned anyone it was, perhaps, Smith. Smith would allow no one t%e to offer Rip so much as a crust; which, perhaps, explains the little dog's lukewarm partiality—if partiality it can be termed. During the two months that intervened between the abduction of Rip and „lhy. visit. Rip' had done nothing—absolutely nothing—not even chased a cat out of Hie back garden. He merely existed beautifully, at Smith's considerable expense;'for Smith bought him sixpence worth of ;the best dog's meat every evening—the only wonder is that Smith didn't buy the tyke a pound of prime rump steak. And when Rip got wise to this, which didn't take him long, the little beast took to waiting for Smith at. the gate. Sometimes ho' even waited outside. Smith went into raptures •about it.. '

I had.been there a week, and was properly fed -iip with Rip, I assure you. Ou Sunday, Smith proposed a long walk "into the country." It appealed to me. I hate the town. We set. forth bright and early, and, for some unknown reason, Rip decided to accompany us. He usually -preferred to stay at home, and no amount of blandishment could induce hun to do otherwise.

This fine Sunday morning Rip' felt like a stroll. Smith, from perversity, ordered him home. At first- Rip ignored him, then seemed to tumble to the fact that Smith iv as addressing him. Rip promptly adopted his pose of interrogation, and drove Smith mad. Smith threw his stick at Rip. Rip dodged, and then sat down and laughed. He fairly rocked with devilish, doggv mirth. His little pink tongue hung right out of his little pink mouth, and lie emitted little rumbles of smothered delight. Smith accepted the defeat with what grape he could muster. He picked up his stick, and said, even more fatuously than usual, "Isn't he cute?" to me; and to the . graceless, mirth-ridden Rip, "Righto, old man. You can come, since you're so set on it." Rip actually yelped at that, and even I could not forbear to smile. It made poor old Smith blush; he knew he was seen through. Smith and I iunched, and then, the day being warm, we snoozed in the shade. I had "dropped into a most pleasant doze, when I was ( rudelv roused by Smith. " Look at Rip" he was saying excitedly, "Jim. look at Rip!" Rip himself completely roused me. He hurtled from his tree on to my prostrate body, and nosed me excitedly. Then he sat down, a,mass of quivering inquiry, and gazed, with popping eyes, at a bend in the road. .. I followed his gaze, and had just decided that , it was merely , a new freak of "that eternal dog's," when a herd .of placid milch cows came into view, strolling in orderly procession. Rip shivered and whined, and I, haying dogs of my own, grabbed for' hiin, but was too late; for Rip, with a yelp of untold joy, bolt,ed headlong into the sleepy herd and .got to. work, emitting excited little yaps ' as be. heeled the astounded cows right and left. There must have been 20 cows in-the herd, and I swear Rip heeled the lot in as many seconds. Three went over the "post and "rails'' and away down the shore. The Lord knows how many went over the hedge on the opposite side of the road; and that wis the last we saw of Rip for days: Smith and I gazed blankly at each other, and at the speechless owner of the ill-fated cows. The owner recovered first, and began to talk. I have lived on a farm all that part of mv life that was not spent at the war. /In both places I have heard men swear, some of them beautifully. After five minutes Smith sat down; in ten 1 sat carefully on a willow stump; at the end of a quarter of an hour he said "__< jog!" 3nd! stopped. He never paused or repeated nimself once. There was a stunned silence for the space of minutes. Then, far away, born on the afternoon breeze, we heard a faint, squeaky bark. Smith groaned. And the knight oF the bucket began again, steadily and dispassionately. ' I listened in fascinated silence. Smith was in a state of collapse, brought on by excessive admiration. Presently he again said" — —dog !" and, as before a shuddering gilence closed down upon us. " Well, mister," he inquired coldly, "what are you goin' to do about it?" Again came that faint, far sound,. I clutched my hat and sat down again; on >vhich the fellow turned to me, obviously more than a, little pleased at the tribute. "Yore dawg, sir ?" he asked, almost amicably, and then, at a distant sound, " You'd' better call him off!"—truculently I waved a nonchalant hand at the paralysed Smith, as I chewed a juicy, young grass. It was not my affair and I refused to be drawn into it. His dog! The upshot of it was that Smith "parted up," and offered to recover the cows from the shore, while Mr. Man went in search of the other runaways. - He got Ihem, likewise Rip, .-24 hours later. Smith started for the shore, and the man up the road. I lingered, and when Smith was out of hearing, I called the fellow. "Say=!" He turned. "Would you do it again for a quid ?" "Not me, sir!—me throat's sore!" He went off, grinning. I never saw him again, but I shall never forget him. He was unique. Finding that "money was no object,' I determined Ur use guile in the .acquisition of that most priceless little dog. J. dreamed dreams of owning the most mar-

vellous cattle dog in Taranaki, if not in New Zealand; and go back without Rip J. sworo I wfould not.

My visit /had yet a fortnight to run.; so Thi®*] me to a dog fancier, and there bought me the neatest Scotch Terrier in stock; a biggish, well-bred looking youngster, rising two. He made a fairish hole in that tenner. >.

I named my new acquisition Scott — which was rather smart of me. Rip used to sit, his pink tongue hanging out, and gaze inquiringly at the forbidding Scott. Scott didn't care for piongrels. Smith, apparently, did. I remarked, one day that I didn'| quite know what I was going to do with Scott. I glanced tentatively at Hip, ami remarked, sotto voice: ''Jt' it had only been Rip now " Smith tumbled to it. He glared from mo to Scott and from Scott to the disreputable Rip, "If you think I'm going to swop you Rip for that mongrel," lie snarled, "You'd better'forget it!" .Mrs. Smith intervened, and took up the cudgels in Scott's defence, but to no purpose. Smith withstood" all her pleading. and presently departed in high wrath, whistling to Rip, who took not the slightest notire.. T was chagrined; Scott was indifferent, and Rip, as usual, was frankly amused. Yet when I went out, Rjp came, too. Ho always did, and Scott just as invariably stayed with Mrs. Smith. Next day the fates lent, a hand in my favour. Snjith was decidedly cool that night, and next morning told Mrs. Smith to keep an eye on Rip. It was said jokingly, but I, felt extremely guilty. That day I had to go up the city, and left Rip at home; by the simple expedient of shutting him in the hall wlLen he least expected it. Otherwise, I shouldn't have had a hope. ' When Smith and I returned home, we found Mrs.; Smith in a state of hysteria, ■ with a neighbour in attendance, who was labouring under stress of great excitement. Scott was trying to look indiffer- ■■ ent; and Rip, as usual, was puszlad but junuised.

(Copyright.)

rt appears that Mrs, Smith, who was alone in the house, went into the drawing room about three o'clock, with Rip and Scott at her heels. As she closed the door, someone grabbed her from behind, and said "in hoarse, blood-curdling tones" (the neighbour's version) "Keep quiet, Missus, and I won't 'urt yer!" Naturally, Mrs. Smith yelled, and the man "thrust a huge, dirty hand" (neighbour) over Mrs. Smith's mouth. Hip and Scott, interested spectators, had, up to this time, taken no active part in the proceeding; but when the lady screamed, Scott, like tho little gentleman, he undoubtedly was, nipped in and took a hand, or rather a bite —fixing himself ■ firmly to the. intruder's left calf. The fellow, yelled 'and dropped Mrs. Smith, who ran out of the house and roused the neighbourhood. Meantime the burglar managed to dislodge Scott, who pursued the rascal through the window and down the road into, the arms of a convenient .policeman. The house echoed to "Scott —Scott —Scott!". - I don't know what Mrs. Smith said to Smith, hut Hip went 'back to Taranaki with me. Scott camo out in a , silver collar. That is part one of Rip's known life. The second part occurred in Taranaki. - It was with a feeling of triumph that I introduced Rip to my general farm hand, Dick, who drove my car to fetch me from the station. "He's a marvellous cattle dog," I told the grinning Dick, who looked at Rip and laughed aloud. "If a cow sneezed, she'd blow him clean awav," he chuckled. Somewhat crestfallen I introduced him to Mrs. Maefarlane. Mrs. Maefarlane looked at him without favour. " 'E's a very plain, little dog, Mr. Merrit. Very plain!" And she,retreated to the kitchen to get dinner. I kept Rip tied up for two days, and T don't think he let up yapping once. Then I drove the House cow past his kennel, and let Rip go. Poor Maud's sneezing availed her not, and I yelled myself hoarse, and Dick .laughed himself sick, as the infernal little tyke put our tame old house cow over two fetiches and a gate, and then ran amok among my drive Hereford steers. It took Dick and me'two horses and a couple of stock whips to get him off; and it took us a couple of weeks' hard work to teach him that lie' must leave the stock alone, unless bidden otherwise. It took a good month to teach him to "come behind." ■ And there we left it. And here I. must confess. I have a neighbour, and his name is "Bill" Jones. Bill possesses the most extraordinary attraction for animals which lies,' I suppose, in'his love for them. I dreaded a meeting between Rip and Bill; for Rip.merely tolerated me as he had tolerated Smith. If he thought I was working stock, well and good. He'd go with me, mad-headed little brute, and do as much harm as good, for I could not control him, and I couldn't catch him to tie him up. He knew far too much lor that. Then it happened. Rip, who never went down the road, followed me one day; and behaved much as he did when Smith and I went into the country, three months ago; and the heart of me sank, for I loved the cross-grained, independent little beast, and I knew that if ho once met Bill, he'd leave me. I went across to the woolshed, and as the Fates would have it, an old cow was standing at the door, talking to Bill. All animals talked to Bill—even old cows! Rip strolled up to investigate. Was there ever a beast that he did not ? The cow snorted, and Rip sailed in with a yelp of delight. ' I stormed, in' vain, as usual. Bill laughed, and whistled, and marvel ot marvels, Rip forsook the cow t Not only that. He sped back, and reared himself up against Bill Jones, making tiny noises in his throat, caressing the man with his eyes, as dogs do. " Oh —curse you, Bill," I raged, "you're nothing better than a dog thief! "Bunk!" he retorted cheerily; but he had to put a rope on Rip, and I led him home. I fought for a week. Rip went after stock with me and bolted as soon as the work was done. Then one night he disappeared, and I gave in. I rang Bill up and told him what I thought of him, for he refused point blank to lick the little-brute —and in my heart of hearts I didn't blame him; for he could do anything with the dog. Rip worked magnificently under his handling, obeying his slightest. That midget of a dog could drive the huge Herefords hither and thither at . will—even the bulls respected him. The upshot of it was that I told Bill that he could keep Rip, after to-morrow. I wanted Rip's assistance the following morning. Bill agreed to bring him back that night. Rip approached him with wistful, accusing eyes, and Bill was most apologetic. "But I can't lick him, Brian!" he said, hopelessly. " You can't," I agreed, " any more than 1 can work him! " I was drafting cattle on Saturday morning, and for two hours Rip worked well. Then he began to get uneasy, and showed a decided inclination to go across to Bill's. I could hear Bill away over the road, somewhere behind a plantation, but I couldn't tell what he was up to. Rip came back, the first time, when I whistled, but in a few seconds he bolted down the road, regardless of my shouts. I was all hot and bothered, and the wretched little dog's utter disregard of my commands, roused my already frayed temper to fever heat, and 1 gave chase. I gained rapidly, so Rip, with a leer, slipped through tho fence into the plantation, and vanished through the trees. I raced toward where Bill was working, and the fury died in me. Bill's horse, covered with sweat, and evidently leg-weary, clumsily avoided the charge of a huge Hereford bull, but even as I spurred for the intervening gate, the infuriated animal turned and caught the poor brute acros the stomach, hurling it over; and goring it again and again. Bill, flung some distance, and partially stunned, had not enough sense left to lie still. He struggled up, heedless of my shout, and the bull, distracted from goring the already half-dead horse, charged straight for him. I'd got the gate unfastened, but even then I should have been too late, and I'd given him up for dead, when a little, black dog, on winged feet, sped to the rescue of his god. It sent a lump to my throat, for the biggest, bulldog in creation could not have stopped that hugo beast. Nevertheless Rip. did. With a little yelp, he nipped ,in and. heeled " Red King!' In and out, like, a little black streak, Rip bit him so fast, that the bull couldn't think what had struck him. "Red King" stopped not a couple of yards from Bill's prostrate figure, .and turned about. Rip kept to the beast's heels, worrying, »• confusing, rather like a mosquito. 1 got Bill, bleeding and unconscious, onto my horse, and took him across the paddock' to the house, where .1 loft him to his mother. Then I went back, just in time to witness the final tragedy. Rip, wildly excited at the su/vcess of his bull-baiting, had.kept on too.long, and the bull was beginning to turn too swiftly for the tired little dog. I cracked rnv whip and yelled, but, all to no purpose. 1 was no more than a few yards away, when the bull, swinging with'lightning swiftness, for so ponderous a beast, caught the little dog fairly, and , lifting. lum high in . the air, flung the liblle mangled body at rriy horse's feet. The boll has vet to be born that could touch my pacer "Jet," and the stud bull, "Red King," bears the marks of my whip to this day. ! It appears that Bill, mounted on a young horse, had attempted to turn the bull awav from some yearlings, with the result related. I took .the little, corpse home to Bill's and we buried it under the big blue gurus by the river; and over, him wo erected a little white tombstone, which bears the inscription: "Rip—a dog.".