The Biography of a Prairie Girl. Gates Eleanor
my poor baby ever comes back alive," she sobbed, "she shall have her birthday in June and the best present I can get her." And all the big brothers silently assented.
But while they were gathered thus, drying their damp clothes, the biggest brother suddenly sprang up with a joyful cry.
"Why didn't we think of it before?" he said—"the St. Bernard!"
A moment later he was freeing the big dog, and his mother, lantern in hand, was holding a little gingham dress against his muzzle.
"Find her! Find her!" she commanded. "Go, go! Find her!"
The St. Bernard shook himself free of the chain that had bound him, looked into the faces that peered at him through the dim lantern-light, and then, giving a long sniff, proud, human, and contemptuous, walked slowly and majestically toward the sod barn. The family followed wonderingly.
When the corn-cribs were reached, the dog quickened his pace to a trot and began to wave his big, bushy tail in friendly greeting to something that, farther on in the dark, could not be seen by the little girl's mother and the big brothers. And when he came near the wide, closed door of the barn, in front of which showed indistinctly the forms of a large and a small animal, he leaped forward with a welcoming bark that was answered by another from a dog lying in the deep shadow against the door.
For there stood the blind black colt and the pinto with the bridle-reins still swinging across her neck. And on her back lay the little girl, her arms hanging down on either side of the sheepskin saddle-blanket, her head pillowed in sleep against her horse's mane.
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