in his hands, remarked: "He must have sprained one of his legs when he
fell over that log; he doesn't whine like your common curs when they get
hurt."

"He's blooded stock, then," said the man. "What kind of dog do you call
him?"

"He's an Ulm dog," said Will.

"I never heard tell of that kind of dog before."

"Did you ever hear of a tiger-mastiff, German mastiff, boar-hound, great
Dane? Turk's all of them together."

"Well," said the ferryman, "you're a pretty smart little fellow, and got
lots of grit. You ought to make your mark in the world. But right now
you had better get into some dry clothes." And on the invitation of the
ferryman, Will and the limping dog got into the boat, and were taken
back to camp.

Turk played so conspicuous and important a part in our early lives that
he deserves a brief description. He was a large and powerful animal of
the breed of dogs anciently used in Germany in hunting the wild boars.
Later the dogs were imported into England, where they were particularly
valued by people desiring a strong, brave watch-dog. When specially
trained, they are more fierce and active than the English mastiff.
Naturally they are not as fond of the water as the spaniel, the
stag-hound, or the Newfoundland, though they are the king of dogs on
land. Not alone Will, but the rest of the family, regarded Turk as the
best of his kind, and he well deserved the veneration he inspired. His