The other dogs
had all stepped into place before the sled; when at last Fisher,
reluctant in coming, meditated a moment, and then, in open rebellion,
darted down the steep banks into the overflow of the Springs. The water,
a strange freak of nature in the Arctic, was very warm, and deep enough
so that he had to swim; and he felt that he had selected an ideal place
for his Declaration of Independence.
But "Scotty," shouting directions to have the other dogs unhitched,
immediately started in pursuit of the rebel.
Fisher left the hard, well-beaten track, and struck out for some small
willows and alders where the snow had drifted in feathery masses. He
broke through the crust frequently, but knew that a man would have more
difficulty still in making any headway. Finally Allan turned back to the
house, and Fisher sat down to think over his little victory. He was
tired and panting, but he felt he had scored a point; when to his
amazement he saw the man coming toward him, and now on snow-shoes. He
plunged forward, and relentlessly "Scotty" followed. Hour after hour
the chase continued, until Fisher realized, at length, the futility of
it all; and thoroughly exhausted, crouched shivering in the snow,
waiting for the punishment that lay in the coils of the long black whip
in the man's hand.
When some little distance from him, Allan paused and called to Fisher.
The dog listened. There was something compelling in the tone, something
he could not resist; and so in spite of the temptation to make one more
wild dash for liberty, the dog crawled to "Scotty's" feet in fear and
trembling.
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