across the enclosed yard that opened from the kennels. Bruno was no
longer able to go out on the trails, but spent his days teaching the
young dogs. Sometimes he would lie asleep, and when his paws jerked and
his tail moved, Jan's mother would say, "Be quiet, children! Bruno is
dreaming he is out on the trail."

Then she would speak softly, "When you are older you will be taught to
break trails through the snow and carry food and wine, fastened about
your necks. You may be tempted, when the wind howls and the snow blinds
you, to sneak back or hide in a sheltered place. You must not forget, as
long as you live, that there was never a traitor or coward in your
father's family or in mine. When you remember this, you will stagger on
or crawl, if you cannot stand, and keep your nose close to the ground,
sniffing and sniffing."

She turned her head toward the white peaks that loomed high above the
stone walls around the enclosure. "Only a St. Bernard can tell whether
the snow which has drifted during the night is strong enough to bear the
weight of a man, or whether that man would sink beyond rescuing."

Jan and his brother waited respectfully when she stopped speaking and
stared at the mountain-tops, until she said, "Sometimes, you will find
an ice-bridge. Then you must go very carefully. If it creaks beneath
your weight, never let any human being step on it, even if you must
fight him back. Your father, Rex, died when an ice-bridge broke through;
but he saved four men from death. Always remember one thing. To die
doing one's duty is the greatest honor that can come to a St. Bernard."

The two puppies whined softly and their mother knew that each of her
children was promising that he would do his best to be worthy of such a