When all had gone but the dead or dying, Jinks' master came forward to
where Jinks' handsome body was lying motionless.

"I really believe this is Jinks," his old master said, in surprise.
And Jinks he proved to be, for he remembered that peculiar, little,
bony projection on Jinks' head, and, although it could not be seen,
being covered by a funny little tuft of hair, he felt for it and found
it, and this, with the size and markings of the animal, were
conclusive.

"Poor old Jinks!" his master said, regretfully, stroking the still
handsome head and body. "He was a beautiful animal, but just as
treacherous as the rest of his kind."

Now, as a matter of fact, Jinks was not dead yet, and at the sound of
the old, familiar voice he opened his eyes, now dim and misty with
suffering, and looked at his old master in the way he had been used to
do when he was only a pup and dependent on him for everything. And, at
the sight of this, his master, who had grown very, very fond of his
pet after having him all those years, broke down completely and cried
like a child. His friends persuaded him to go away, and, feeling that
he could not bear to see his old pet actually die, he consented and
went into the house, where he did his best to forget the sad episode.

And what about Jinks? Well, as soon as his master had disappeared,
Jinks, although wounded, took himself off in a stealthy manner and
rejoined his pack. He had intended to feign death[Footnote: It is a
well-known fact that jackals will sometimes feign death as a means of
escape.--Author.] until attention was taken from him, but the sound of