She continued backing
away; and champed her jaws as if to locate the cause of the agony
in her mouth. Her eyes were inflamed and dazed by the flash of
the gun.
The Mistress took advantage of the moment's breathing space to
bend over the staggeringly rising Lad; and, catching him by the
ruff, to urge him toward the house. For once, the big collie
refused to obey. He knew pig nature better than did she. And he
knew the sow was not yet finished with the battle. He strove to
break free from the loved grasp and to stagger back to his
adversary.
The Mistress, by main strength, drew him, snarling and
protesting, toward the safety of the house. Panting, bleeding,
reeling, pitiably weak, yet he resisted the tender urging; and
kept twisting his bloody head back for a glimpse of his foe. Nor
was the precaution useless. For, before the Mistress and her
wounded dog were half-way across the remaining strip of lawn, the
sow recovered enough of her deflected wits and fury to lower her
head and gallop down after them.
At her first step, Lad, by a stupendous effort, wrenched free
from the Mistress's clasp; and flung himself between her and the
charging mass of pork.
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