From the worst part of this dilemma I was relieved by the
sagacity of Tiger. Having got, after a long search, a small piece of
the note, I put it to the dog's nose, and endeavored to make him
understand that he must bring me the rest of it. To my astonishment,
(for I had taught him none of the usual tricks for which his breed
are famous,) he seemed to enter at once into my meaning, and,
rummaging about for a few moments, soon found another considerable
portion. Bringing me this, he paused awhile, and, rubbing his nose
against my hand, appeared to be waiting for my approval of what he
had done. I patted him on the head, when he immediately made off
again. It was now some minutes before he came back- but when he did
come, he brought with him a large slip, which proved to be all the
paper missing- it having been torn, it seems, only into three pieces.
Luckily, I had no trouble in finding what few fragments of the
phosphorus were left- being guided by the indistinct glow one or two
of the particles still emitted. My difficulties had taught me the
necessity of caution, and I now took time to reflect upon what I was
about to do. It was very probable, I considered, that some words were
written upon that side of the paper which had not been examined- but
which side was that? Fitting the pieces together gave me no clew in
this respect, although it assured me that the words (if there were
any) would be found all on one side, and connected in a proper
manner, as written. There was the greater necessity of ascertaining
the point in question beyond a doubt, as the phosphorus remaining
would be altogether insufficient for a third attempt, should I fail
in the one I was now about to make. I placed the paper on a book as
before, and sat for some minutes thoughtfully revolving the matter
over in my mind. At last I thought it barely possible that the
written side might have some unevenness on its surface, which a