protection of my whip, and the bull paddled back smiling more
than ever, covered with the blood of his enemies. That decided me
to call him "Garin of the Bloody Breast," who was a great person
in his time, or "Garm" for short; so, leaning forward, I told him
what his temporary name would be. He looked up while I repeated
it, and then raced away. I shouted "Garin!" He stopped, raced
back, and came up to ask my will.

Then I saw that my soldier friend was right, and that that dog
knew and was worth more than a man. At the end of the ride I gave
an order which Vixen knew and hated: "Go away and get washed!" I
said. Garin understood some part of it, and Vixen interpreted the
rest, and the two trotted off together soberly. When I went to
the back verandah Vixen had been washed snowy-white, and was very
proud of herself, but the dog-boy would not touch Garm on any
account unless I stood by. So I waited while he was being
scrubbed, and Garm, with the soap creaming on the top of his
broad head, looked at me to make sure that this was what I
expected him to endure. He knew perfectly that the dog-boy was
only obeying orders.

"Another time," I said to the dog-boy, "you will wash the great
dog with Vixen when I send them home."

"Does he know?" said the dog-boy, who understood the ways of
dogs.

"Garm," I said, "another time you will be washed with Vixen."

I knew that Garm understood. Indeed, next washing-day, when Vixen