pointed nose that could smell a mile and eyes like
your mother's--they were so soft and tender. One
of those dogs that when he put his cold nose alongside
your cheek and snuffed around your whiskers you
loved him--you couldn't help it--and you knew he
loved you. As for the captain--the dog was never
three feet from his heels. Night or day, it was just
the same--up on the bridge, followin' him with his
eyes every time he turned, or stretched out beside
his berth when he was asleep. Hard to understand
how such a man can love a dog until you saw that
one. Then, again, this dog had another hold upon
the captain, for the girl had loved him just the same
way.

"And he had the best nose in a fog--seemed as if
he could sniff things as they went by or came on
dead ahead. After a while the captain would send
him out with the bow-watch in thick weather, and
there he'd crouch, his nose restin' on the rail, his eyes
peerin' ahead. Once he got on to a brigantine comin'
bow on minutes before the lookout could see her--
smelt her, the men said, just as he used to smell the
sheep lost on the hillside at home. It was thick as
mud--one of those pasty fogs that choke you like
hot steam. We had three men in the cro'nest and two
for'ard hangin' over her bow-rail. The dog began to
grow restless. Then his ears went up and his tail
straightened out, and he began to growl as if he had
seen another dog. The captain was listenin' from