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Authors: Felix Salten

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“I never touch animals with my bare hand,” she declared. “I wish my children would take an example from me.”

Old Vassili was not strictly bound by this notable example. He ventured to tap Renni with the fingertips of his left hand in order to ward off his over-friendliness. “Now, now, that is all right. Go on, now.” Then he pulled out his handkerchief and carefully wiped the tips of his fingers, looking the while at his wife, who smiled indulgently.

“I knew all the time, son,” said Mother Marie, “that your patience would do it.”

“And Renni's smartness,” added George, beaming with happiness.

“Bettina deserves more credit than anyone else,” said Vladimir, and then he asked, grinning broadly, “Why are you blushing, Bettina?”

She did not answer.

* * *

Ludmilla could scarcely wait until Bettina had gone. “Who is that impossible person? I simply cannot stand her.”

In the embarrassed silence Tanya said, “Why?”

“Because she tries to use her charms on people, the shameless thing.”

Vladimir grinned. “But,
Mamitschka
 . . . ”

That was as far as he got. His father broke in. “I sincerely hope you are not presuming to contradict your mother.”

It was said solemnly, with a slight threat in the tone. Vladimir stammered something unintelligible, lowered his head and fell silent. Mother Safonoff looked around with a smile of triumph. But Mother Marie proposed to show her how tactless she had been.

She said, very decidedly, “Bettina would not be my guest if I had any occasion to think her designing or bold. You are mistaken, dear lady, very much mistaken. She is a modest and well-behaved young girl who is looking for work, and I'm thinking of giving her work in my house.”

“Ah, a servant.” Ludmilla's laugh was painful and betrayed her vexation over the lesson she had received.

“Call it what you please.” Mother Marie was smiling now. “A servant, if you wish. Here in our country all
good people are equal, and there is nothing dishonourable or undignified about being a servant.”

“We are no longer in Russia, Millie,” came Vassili's booming, gloomy organ tones.

She sighed deeply. “Alas, alas!”

Chapter X

R
ENNI'S EDUCATION WAS MAKING swift progress now. The next time he went out he located two of the brothers, Mitya and Vladimir, and later on, all three, Kolya, Mitya and Vladimir. (Sascha was not again to be lured into this child-play, so beneath his dignity.) Again and again Renni went through the strange experience of finding his friends lying sick and helpless, and of having them recover with astonishing speed as soon as he brought George along to help. At times he got so
confused he didn't know what to do when he came on Mitya or Vladimir motionless and suffering. He would just lie down by them, stretch out and whimper. They would leave him in his grief until after a while he would remember his duty and dash away like an arrow.

Slowly the dog came to understand that he must aid them, must save them. As Bettina had predicted, the friendship with the Russian brothers had proved at once a hindrance and a help. George devoted himself more and more to the dog's training. He went at the practising so eagerly that he neglected his garden and his field. But Bettina was there now. She worked busily at Tanya's side.

She had been unable to withstand Mother Marie's persuasion, well seconded by Tanya. The two had grown all the more enthusiastic over Bettina as a result of Ludmilla's unjust and unkind remarks. So Bettina lived at the house, slept in the attic room, ate with them at the table like one of the family, and worked busily from morning till late at night.

“You're doing more for George when you help out
here at home than if you went along to train the dog,” said Mother Marie.

From the start Tanya talked with Bettina as if they had been the most intimate friends. “Leave George alone with Renni,” she would say. “He won't even miss you. He's like a man possessed. Here you can really be useful to him.” Which was the truth if not altogether flattering. Absorbed in the dog, he forgot the girl. George had had nothing to do with her coming, barely noticed her at home, did not miss her at all when he was at the training. Bettina's help in the house he seemed to take as a matter of course. Once he defended himself briefly to his mother.

“It won't be very long now until I have to join the colours for manœuvres, and then of course I can't work here. I hope by then to have Renni so far along that I can take him with me and report him for duty.”

Vladimir developed a sudden interest in the garden and field work. He helped cut vegetables and salads, pulled turnips, gathered tomatoes from the frames, picked red currants, and kept an eye on the
peaches and apricots, getting rid of insects. He made up chrysanthemums and asters—his favourite flowers—into great bouquets, dealt, grinning as usual, with the people who came to buy, and spent as much time as possible near Bettina. He disregarded Tanya's quizzical smile.

* * *

Now out in the forest something very important happened, something which George hailed as final and positive proof of the success of his training. They were going contentedly home one day. Renni had found all three of the carefully concealed brothers, one right after the other, and each time had rushed up at full speed to get George. Mitya was saying, “We've gone the limit. He knows us too well. We mustn't keep on or he'll get to the point where he won't believe there's anything wrong with us.”

“That's right,” replied George. “It would be a good idea to use strangers. But where shall we find them? As far as the dog's losing faith is concerned, if that's what you're afraid of, I don't think you need worry.
Dogs believe everything we tell them, blindly. If I put my hands in front of my face and act as if I were going to cry, Renni's sympathy immediately throws him into greatest distress. As soon as I take my hands away and begin to laugh, he's at once beside himself for joy.”

Big Kolya put in, lazily, “He thinks it's all just a game.” Mitya suggested that everything was a game to Renni.

“That's a mistake, a great mistake,” contradicted George. “Why would he get so desperate over my crying? Doesn't he come rushing from each of you as though, if I delayed for a minute, you might be in dire danger? No, you must get into your heads what unlimited trust and confidence dogs give us. We're their gods.”

Vladimir grinned. “You a god, George? Remarkable!”

“You too,” answered George quietly. “All of you are gods in Renni's eyes.”

“We're a gob of gods,” fat Mitya remarked dryly. “I'm Jupiter. Who are you?” They all laughed.

“Renni still has much to learn,” declared George firmly. “A very great deal.”

“What else?” Kolya wanted to know.

“Well, for instance, the way to make his report, how to bring stimulants and first-aid kits, but, most important of all, how to behave under fire. Just think—machine guns, cannon, hand grenades, bombs.”

“They're no trifling matter,” said Vladimir and for the first time failed to smile.

Just at this moment Renni stopped dead still, his ears high, and sniffed anxiously toward the forest. Then suddenly making up his mind he struck out straight ahead through the brush.

“Call him back, why don't you?” demanded Kolya.

“No, let him have his fun,” smiled Vladimir.

“I don't believe he ran off for fun,” Mitya argued.

“Let's wait,” George said. He seemed rather nervous. They all waited in silence, sharing his uneasiness. It was quite a while before Renni came back. Excited and almost beside himself, he urged George to come at once and help. As usual he ran ahead a few steps, whirled around and looked back to see if George were following, then ran on a little and did it all over again. The others stayed behind.

“Somebody must have had a serious accident,” said Vladimir. “That would be simply wonderful!”

Mitya said, “The fellow who had the accident would hardly agree with you,” and naturally this brought out Vladimir's delightful grin.

The dog led his master deep into the forest. There, half-hidden under a hazel bush, lay a boy of about fifteen, moaning and moaning. George could hear him quite a way off. When he stood over the boy, he said, “What's the matter?”

The answer came in a whimper. “I don't know. I must have fallen over a tree trunk or a root. I can't get up. My ankle's broken or sprained.”

“How do you come to be in the woods alone?”

“I was hunting mushrooms. Oh! Ouch!”

“Is the pain very bad?”

“It's terrible.” The boy bent double. Stooping over him George lifted his left leg. The boy screamed when he touched the ankle.

“The shoe must come off,” said George.

“No, no. Please don't,” wailed the boy. But George got
out his knife and, in spite of the cries of pain, carefully cut the shoe from the ankle. It was terribly swollen. The pain eased a little, but the boy groaned, “Now I'll have to run around barefoot. I won't have any shoes now.”

“Well, old man, you can't run anyhow with that ankle, and by the time you're walking again I'll give you a new pair of shoes.”

When the sock had been removed the thick swollen joint was a dark blue from the ruptured blood vessels.

“Quiet now. We'll soon have you out. I can't carry you alone.” George hurried off. His heart was beating violently, he was so excited over what Renni had done all by himself. It sent him clear up in the air with joy to note how the dog, who had followed him, kept looking back worriedly toward the boy. When he came out onto the glade, he could no longer hold in.

“Good work, old boy!” he cried, taking Renni's head in both hands. “You've learned your lesson perfectly. I'm pleased with you—more than pleased. I'm as happy as can be.”

The dog waved his plume eagerly, but still seemed
set on going back. Mitya interrupted the praise. “Well, did somebody have an accident?”

“Yes,” cried George, exultant. “Just think what all this means. I've reached the goal of all my efforts, and I've reached it through patience and kindness, and the wonderful intelligence of my dog. Nothing else . . . . ”

Again Mitya broke in. “And the injured man? Are you going to let him lie there, or is he already dead?”

“Heavens, no!” George, who had been almost drunk with happiness, came to his senses. “Certainly not. Come with me. Quick!”

“Renni is already ordering us to come,” said Vladimir.

The dog rushed into the bushes as soon as he saw them start out. George answered the other's questions. “A poor boy. He was looking for mushrooms, and he broke his ankle, or at least sprained it.”

“Which foot?” asked Mitya.

“I haven't the slightest idea.”

Kolya put in, “How stupid!” But it wasn't clear whether he referred to Mitya being so precise, or George being so unattentive. Talking loudly they fought
their way through the bushes. As they strung along behind Renni, they praised him according to their several natures. Mitya said he had known from the dog's manner that he had it in him, or he never would have wasted time on all those tests. That set Vladimir grinning again.

They found the youngster almost out of his head with pain. He could not defend himself from Renni's affectionate greeting, or push him away when he insisted on washing his face with his tongue. They carried him out to the road, while he whimpered and stammered, “Good old dog,” and “He's my guardian angel. My rescuer.” As soon as the road would permit it, the four of them raised him on their shoulders. They did not have to carry him far, for a woman who came along undertook to call the hospital. So they laid the patient down in the grass at the roadside. George inquired his name and address. He was Rupert Fifer, the son of a tailor, and he lived in the workers' district. He did not have a bit of money. George gave him some and promised again to see about the shoes. Each of the three brothers
gave him money, too. The boy grew almost cheerful.

At last the ambulance arrived. Young Doctor Britt introduced himself and examined Rupert, who was crying piteously. The ankle was broken. Amid his groans the doctor put on a first-aid bandage and ordered him to the hospital. Vladimir told the crowd that had gathered how and by whom the boy had been found. After Rupert had been placed in the ambulance Mitya stepped over to him.

“I'll get word to your father at once,” he said shortly.

“Thank you,” moaned Rupert.

They could still hear him groaning, “Thank you for everything,” as the ambulance drove away.

The crowd staged a little ovation for the dog and for the young men, before it scattered. A fat, rather elderly gentleman said, “A dog like that proves mighty useful.”

George and the brothers started home.

“That was Renni's first taste of publicity,” grinned Vladimir.

BOOK: Renni the Rescuer
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