away; right out past Fritten
Ring and the long barrow, you know, and I fancy poor Desdemona must have
had quite a family, because, besides the one dead pup close to the cave,
I saw several little skeletons; quite a lot of animal remains scattered
about--pieces of rabbit and the remains of another fox besides the one
Finn killed. The extraordinary thing is that Jan, here, appeared to me
to have been fighting the fox that killed his sister. He was growling
away most ferociously when I found him."

"Yes, he's a real 'well-plucked un,' is Jan, as you call him," said the
Master. "Your pup, Betty. I'm sure the Colonel will say he must be
yours, for you found him, and there's fully as much Finn as Desdemona
about him. He will make a wonderful dog, that, unless I'm greatly
mistaken. Well, now I must get over to Shaws and let them know about
Desdemona. I dare say the Colonel will want to come back with me to see
the bitch; so I'll ask him to have dinner with us."

As the event proved, the Nuthill family and Colonel Forde spent most of
the evening in that loose box. Stools were brought in from the
harness-room; and Betty Murdoch had to tell her story all over again,
while the others made suggestions and filled in gaps with their
surmises; and everybody's gaze centered upon Desdemona and her son,
lying among the fresh straw. It is likely that Desdemona might have
noticed the confinement of that loose box a good deal more than she did,
but for the fact that she was thoroughly tired out. Her health was not
good just then, and the events of the day seemed rather to have overcome
her.

To the eyes of Colonel Forde and the Nuthill folk she appeared most
cruelly emaciated. She certainly was thinner than hounds who live with
men-folk grow; for she had gone rather short of food while nursing her
pups and had had to hunt for most of the food she did get. But in any
case unless specially nourished for the task, and given the abundant
rest of kennel or stable life, a bitch will always lose a lot of flesh
over suckling her young. Desdemona was not really so emaciated as her
friends thought her; but she was much thinner than she had ever been
before; and above all, had not a trace left of that sleekness which
sheltered life gives. The veterinary surgeon who came to see her next
morning, by Colonel Forde's request, had never before seen a dog fresh
from wild life; and he, too, thought Desdemona more dangerously
emaciated than she was.

"We