their voices, like deep-sounding bells, giving forth the cry of the St.
Bernards. They trod over ice-bridges, ploughed through deep drifts,
sliding and floundering, following the trail of their forefathers, and
sniffing as they ran.

Suddenly Jan stopped and thrust his nose into a deep drift. Then he and
Rollo dug furiously, until Jan cried, "Run, Rollo, run to the Hospice!"

Rollo whirled and disappeared, while Jan's rough tongue licked the snow
until he saw the round, soft face of a child, and beneath that child lay
its mother. Both were very quiet. Jan licked their faces, he pushed
them with his nose to rouse them, then he crowded his warm body closely
against them, and his eyes watched the trail. Soon he gave a wild yelp,
for he saw Rollo coming and back of him hurried Brother Antoine and one
of the men of the Hospice who helped on the trail.

The men lifted the woman and child, and wrapped them in warm shawls,
then they unfastened the keg from Jan's collar, and as the woman opened
her eyes they made her drink the liquid. Some of it was given to the
child. Brother Antoine carried the little one in his arms while the
other man held the woman, and Jan and Rollo trotted ahead of them to
beat down the snow and make the path easier to travel. Bruno and the
other dogs in the kennel yard sent back answering calls to Jan and
Rollo. The door opened and kindly hands received the woman and child,
and carried them to shelter and warmth.

Brother Antoine stooped and patted Jan's head, and brushed off snow that
still clung to the long hair on the dog's back, saying very softly, "The
Blessed Mother guided you, Jan; for you have saved a mother and child
on Christmas Day!"