The dog Crusoe was once a pup. Now do not,courteous reader, toss your head contemptuously,and exclaim, "Of course he was; I could have told youthat." You know very well that you have often seen aman above six feet high, broad and powerful as a lion,with a bronzed shaggy visage and the stern glance of aneagle, of whom you have said, or thought, or heard otherssay, "It is scarcely possible to believe that such a manwas once a squalling baby." If you had seen our heroin² all the strength and majesty³ of full-grown doghood,you would have experienced a vague sort of surprisehad we told you--as we now repeat--that the dogCrusoe was once a pup--a soft, round, sprawling,squeaking pup, as fat as a tallow candle, and as blindas a bat.

But we draw particular attention to the fact ofCrusoe's having once been a pup, because in connectionwith the days of his puppyhood there hangs a tale.

This peculiar⁴ dog may thus be said to have had twotails--one in connection with his body, the other withhis career. This tale, though short, is very harrowing,and as it is intimately connected with Crusoe's subsequenthistory we will relate it here. But before doingso we must beg our reader to accompany us beyond thecivilized portions of the United States of America--beyondthe frontier settlements of the "far west," intothose wild prairies which are watered by the greatMissouri River--the Father of Waters--and his numeroustributaries.

Here dwell the Pawnees, the Sioux, the Delawarers,the Crows, the Blackfeet, and many other tribes of RedIndians, who are gradually retreating step by step towardsthe Rocky Mountains as the advancing whiteman cuts down their trees and ploughs up their prairies.

Here, too, dwell the wild horse and the wild ass⁶, thedeer, the buffalo⁷, and the badger⁸; all, men and brutesalike, wild as the power of untamed and ungovernablepassion can make them, and free as the wind thatsweeps over their

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