slept in the bathroom on the cool wet bricks where the bath is
placed. Every morning, as soon as the man filled my bath the two
jumped in, and every morning the man filled the bath a second
time. I said to him that he might as well fill a small tub
specially for the dogs. "Nay," said he smiling, "it is not their
custom. They would not understand. Besides, the big bath gives
them more space."

The punkah-coolies who pull the punkahs day and night came to
know Garin intimately. He noticed that when the swaying fan
stopped I would call out to the coolie and bid him pull with a
long stroke. If the man still slept I would wake him up. He
discovered, too, that it was a good thing to lie in the wave of
air under the punkah. Maybe Stanley had taught him all about this
in barracks. At any rate, when the punkah stopped, Garin would
first growl and cock his eye at the rope, and if that did not
wake the man it nearly always did--he would tiptoe forth and talk
in the sleeper's ear. Vixen was a clever little dog, but she
could never connect the punkah and the coolie; so Garin gave me
grateful hours of cool sleep. But--he was utterly wretched--as
miserable as a human being; and in his misery he clung so closely
to me that other men noticed it, and were envious. If I moved
from one room to another Garin followed; if my pen stopped
scratching, Garm's head was thrust into my hand; if I turned,
half awake, on the pillow, Garm was up and at my side, for he
knew that I was his only link with his master, and day and night,
and night and day, his eyes asked one question--"When is this
going to end?"

Living with the dog as I did, I never noticed that he was more