The lesson of the trail had to be repeated several times, before the two
puppies understood just what they were expected to do. Day after day
their mother told them more about the brave deeds of the St. Bernard
dogs, for the work of the mother-dogs of the Hospice was to teach the
puppies to be kindly, obedient and loyal to the trust placed in them by
the good monks.

July and August, the two months that were called the summer-time at the
Hospice, passed swiftly, and Jan and Rollo knew that very soon it would
be winter. The first big snow storm blew over the mountains early in
September, while Jan and his brother slept, warm and snug, beside their
mother. Next morning no sun could be seen, and when the dogs rushed into
the enclosures, dark clouds, shrieking winds, and sheets of driving snow
told them that winter had begun and soon there would be hard work for
them all.

Jan and Rollo quivered with excitement and envy when they saw the older
dogs pass through the long corridors that day, and each time one of the
monks came into the basement where the dogs waited, all of them started
to their feet and wagged their tails, hoping to be taken out for work.

While Jan and Rollo watched and waited, their mother talked to them.

"Sometimes," she said, "you will find a white mound, and you must never
pass it by without digging to see if any one is under it. You have
learned already that when you find a man, you must lick his face and
hands to waken him, and if you cannot rouse him, so that he will stand
up, or put his arms about your neck, you must hurry to the Hospice to
bring the monks. That way, you may save a life, and then, perhaps, you