terrible
disintegration of that fighter's redoubtable sire, Tasman, under the
foaming jaws and flashing feet of his own dingo mate, Warrigal. But the
picture did not show Finn any fighting. It showed himself, at the den's
mouth, gazing in upon Warrigal, and Warrigal's curved flank supporting a
little bunch of wolfhound-dingo pups, helpless, blind, new-born, and
cheeping thinly like caged birds. Again came the sound of the small
bleatings from the cave on the South Downs. The Australian picture faded
out from Finn's excited mind, its task accomplished. He knew now; and
into the gentle whining which escaped his throat as he stepped forward
to the cave's entrance Finn introduced a note of reassurance and
soothing understanding which even human ears would have comprehended and
been satisfied by.

"All right, my mate," said Finn's gentle whining. "I know, I know. I'll
be very careful."

And then came Desdemona's answer as Finn's great bulk blocked the
entrance. This time her voice struck a note quite new to her. She
understood now that Finn understood; she knew she was not to be called
upon to shield that which she cherished in the cave there from immediate
peril. There was rest and thankfulness in Desdemona's voice now; but
withal, as Finn entered, there was more.

"Oh, please be very careful! Be very careful!" said her whine, as her
swimming eyes, with their deep-pouched crimson haws, looked up at Finn.
It would have been hard for Desdemona if she had been obliged now to
take the defensive, for Finn found the beautiful bitch most utterly
exhausted. But, as he well knew, it had gone hardly too with the man or
beast who should have forced the Lady Desdemona to her defense. Weak and
exhausted though she clearly was, the mother-passion looked out from her
brimming eyes, and the call of need would have found her a living flame
for valor, a most deadly force in a fight.

"All right! All right! Don't stir, my mate," said Finn's low whine. And
then he entered the cave and gazed down upon the miracle the night had
brought. Five sleek-sided puppies nestled in a row within the Lady
Desdemona's carefully curved flank. They were so new to the world as to
be no more than a few hours' old; they were blind and helpless as
stranded jellyfish. But they were vigorously breakfasting, none the
less; and as Finn gazed down upon them from his three-foot height, their
mother proceeded to wash and groom their fat bodies for the twentieth
time