Now, Lad had not obeyed the Mistress's soft chirp. It had not
reached his dulling ears;--the ears which, of old, had caught her
faintest whisper. Yet, he would have followed her, as ever,
without such summons, had not his nostrils suddenly become aware
of an alien scent.
Lad's sense of smell, like his hearing, was far less keen than
once it had been. But, it was still strong enough to register the
trace of intruders. His hackles bristled. Up went the classically
splendid head, to sniff the light breeze, for further information
as to the reek of pig and the lighter but more disquieting scent
of man.
Turning his head, to reinforce with his near-sighted eyes the
failing evidence of his nostrils, he saw the sow emerge from the
canna-clump. He saw, too--or he divined--the look in her pale
little red-rimmed eyes; as they glared defiantly at the Mistress.
And Lad cleared the porch steps at one long leap.
For the instant, he forgot he was aged and stout and that his
joints ached at any sudden motion; and that his wind and his
heart were not what they had been;--and that his once-terrible
fangs were yellowed and blunt; and that his primal vulnerable
spot, (as Lad knew) in her bristling pigskin armor.
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