Then, just as the sow was launching herself on the futilely snapping
Lad, she was stupidly aware that the dog had somehow changed to three
dogs. One of these three the Mistress was still holding. The two
others, with excellent teamwork, were assailing the sow from opposite
sides.
She came to a sliding stop in her charge; blinking in bewildered fury.
Bruce had caught her by the torn left ear; and was keeping easily out
of her way, while he inflicted torture thereon. Wolf, like a furry
whirlwind, had stopped only long enough to slash her bleeding nose to
the bone; and now was tearing away at her hind leg in an industrious
and very promising effort to hamstring her. In front, Lad was still
straining to break the Mistress's loving hold; and to get at his
pestered enemy.
This was more than the huge porker had bargained for. Through all her
murder-rage, she had sense enough to know she was outnumbered and
beaten. She broke into a clumsy gallop; heading homeward.
But Bruce and Wolf would not have it so. Delightedly they tore in to
the attack. Their slashing fangs and their keenly nipping front teeth
were everywhere. They were all over her. In sudden panic, blinded by
terror and pain, the sow put her six hundred pounds of unwieldy weight
into the fastest motion she could summon. At a scrambling run, she set
off, around the house; head down, bitten tail aloft; the two dogs at
her bleeding haunches.
Dimly, she saw a big and black obstacle loom up in her path. It was
coming noisily toward her. But she was going too fast and too blindly
to swerve. And she met it, headlong; throwing her vast weight forward
in an attempt to smash through it. At the same time, Wolf and Bruce
left off harrying her flanks and sprang aside.
Dugan had reached the garage unseen. There, he had backed out the car,
by hand; shoving it into the open, lest the motor-whirr give premature
announcement of his presence. Then, as he boarded the machine and
reached for the self-starter, all bedlam broke loose, from somewhere in
the general direction of the house, fifty yards away.
Dugan, glancing up apprehensively, beheld the first phases of the
fight. Forgetting the need of haste and of secrecy, he sat there,
open-mouthed, watching a scrimmage which was beyond all his sporting
experience and which thrilled him as no prize-fight had ever done.
Moveless, wide eyed, he witnessed the battle.
But the arrival of the two other dogs and the flight of the sow roused
him to a sense of the business which had brought him thither. The
Mistress and the maids had no eyes or ears for anything but the wounded
Lad. Dugan knew he could, in all probability, drive to the main road
unnoticed; if he should keep the house between him and the women.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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