the town.

Very few Kamchadale dogs can bark, but they will howl oftener, longer,
and louder than any 'yaller dog' that ever went to a cur pound or
became sausage meat. The few in Petropavlovsk made much of their
ability, and were especially vocal at sunset, near their feeding time.
Occasionally during the night they try their throats and keep up a
hailing and answering chorus, calculated to draw a great many oaths
from profane strangers.

In 1865 Colonel Bulkley carried one of these animals to California.
The dog lifted up his voice on the waters very often, and received a
great deal of rope's ending in consequence. At San Francisco Mr.
Covert took him home, and attempted his domestication. 'Norcum,' (for
that was the brute's name,) created an enmity between Covert and all
who lived within hearing distance, and many were the threats of
canicide. Covert used to rise two or three times every night and
argue, with a club, to induce Norcum to be silent. While I was at San
Francisco, Mr. Mumford, one of the Telegraph Company's directors,
conceived a fondness for the dog, and took him to the Occidental
Hotel.

On the first day of his hotel life we tied Norcum on the balcony in
front of Mumford's room, about forty feet from the ground. Scarcely
had we gone to dinner when he jumped from the balcony and hung by his
chain, with his hind feet resting upon a cornice.

A howling wilderness is nothing to the noise he made before his
rescue, and he gathered and amused a large crowd with his performance.
He passed the night in the western basement of the hotel, and spoiled