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CHAPTER 14
The Dogs of Gwyntystorm
The steep street led them straight up to a large market place with
butchers' shops, about which were many dogs. The moment they
caught sight of Lina, one and all they came rushing down upon her,
giving her no chance of explaining herself. When Curdie saw the
dogs coming he heaved up his mattock over his shoulder, and was
ready, if they would have it so. Seeing him thus prepared to
defend his follower, a great ugly bulldog flew at him. With the
first blow Curdie struck him through the brain and the brute fell
dead at his feet. But he could not at once recover his weapon,
which stuck in the skull of his foe, and a huge mastiff, seeing him
thus hampered, flew at him next.
Now Lina, who had shown herself so brave upon the road thither, had
grown shy upon entering the city, and kept always at Curdie's heel.
But it was her turn now. The moment she saw her master in danger
she seemed to go mad with rage. As the mastiff jumped at Curdie's
throat, Lina flew at him, seized him with her tremendous jaws, gave
one roaring grind, and he lay beside the bulldog with his neck
broken. They were the best dogs in the market, after the judgement
of the butchers of Gwyntystorm. Down came their masters, knives in
hand.
Curdie drew himself up fearlessly, mattock on shoulder, and awaited
their coming, while at his heel his awful attendant showed not only
her outside fringe of icicle teeth, but a double row of right
serviceable fangs she wore inside her mouth, and her green eyes
flashed yellow as gold. The butchers, not liking the look of
either of them or of the dogs at their feet, drew back, and began
to remonstrate in the manner of outraged men.
'Stranger,' said the first, 'that bulldog is mine.'
'Take him, then,' said Curdie, indignant.
'You've killed him!'
'Yes - else he would have killed me.'
'That's no business of mine.'
'No?'
'No.'
'That makes it the more mine, then.'
'This sort of thing won't do, you know,' said the other butcher.
'That's true,' said Curdie.
'That's my mastiff,' said the butcher.
'And as he ought to be,' said Curdie.
'Your brute shall be burned alive for it,' said the butcher.
'Not yet,' answered Curdie. 'We have done no wrong. We were
walking quietly up your street when your dogs flew at us. If you
don't teach your dogs how to treat strangers, you must take the
consequences.'
'They treat them quite properly,' said the butcher. 'What right
has any one to bring an abomination like that into our city? The
horror is enough to make an idiot of every child in the place.'
'We are both subjects of the king, and my poor animal can't help
her looks. How would you like to be served like that because you
were ugly? She's not a bit fonder of her looks than you are - only
what can she do to change them?'
'I'll do to change them,' said the fellow.
Thereupon the butchers brandished their long knives and advanced,
keeping their eyes upon Lina.
'Don't be afraid, Lina,' cried Curdie. 'I'll kill one - you kill
the other.'
Lina gave a howl that might have terrified an army, and crouched
ready to spring. The butchers turned and ran.
By this time a great crowd had gathered behind the butchers, and in
it a number of boys returning from school who began to stone the
strangers. It was a way they had with man or beast they did not
expect to make anything by. One of the stones struck Lina; she
caught it in her teeth and crunched it so that it fell in gravel
from her mouth. Some of the foremost of the crowd saw this, and it
terrified them. They drew back; the rest took fright from their
retreat; the panic spread; and at last the crowd scattered in all
directions. They ran, and cried out, and said the devil and his
dam were come to Gwyntystorm. So Curdie and Lina were left
standing unmolested in the market place. But the terror of them
spread throughout the city, and everybody began to shut and lock
his door so that by the time the setting sun shone down the street,
there was not a shop left open, for fear of the devil and his
horrible dam. But all the upper windows within sight of them were
crowded with heads watching them where they stood lonely in the
deserted market place.
Curdie looked carefully all round, but could not see one open door.
He caught sight of the sign of an inn, however, and laying down his
mattock, and telling Lina to take care of it, walked up to the door
of it and knocked. But the people in the house, instead of opening
the door, threw things at him from the windows. They would not
listen to a word he said, but sent him back to Lina with the blood
running down his face. When Lina saw that she leaped up in a fury
and was rushing at the house, into which she would certainly have
broken; but Curdie called her, and made her lie down beside him
while he bethought him what next he should do.
'Lina,' he said, 'the people keep their gates open, but their
houses and their hearts shut.'
As if she knew it was her presence that had brought this trouble
upon him, she rose and went round and round him, purring like a
tigress, and rubbing herself against his legs.
Now there was one little thatched house that stood squeezed in
between two tall gables, and the sides of the two great houses shot
out projecting windows that nearly met across the roof of the
little one, so that it lay in the street like a doll's house. In
this house lived a poor old woman, with a grandchild. And because
she never gossiped or quarrelled, or chaffered in the market, but
went without what she could not afford, the people called her a
witch, and would have done her many an ill turn if they had not
been afraid of her.
Now while Curdie was looking in another direction the door opened,
and out came a little dark-haired, black-eyed, gypsy-looking child,
and toddled across the market place toward the outcasts. The
moment they saw her coming, Lina lay down flat on the road, and
with her two huge forepaws covered her mouth, while Curdie went to
meet her, holding out his arms. The little one came straight to
him, and held up her mouth to be kissed. Then she took him by the
hand, and drew him toward the house, and Curdie yielded to the
silent invitation.
But when Lina rose to follow, the child shrank from her, frightened
a little. Curdie took her up, and holding her on one arm, patted
Lina with the other hand. Then the child wanted also to pat doggy,
as she called her by a right bountiful stretch of courtesy, and
having once patted her, nothing would serve but Curdie must let her
have a ride on doggy. So he set her on Lina's back, holding her
hand, and she rode home in merry triumph, all unconscious of the
hundreds of eyes staring at her foolhardiness from the windows
about the market place, or the murmur of deep disapproval that rose
from as many lips.
At the door stood the grandmother to receive them. She caught the
child to her bosom with delight at her courage, welcomed Curdie,
and showed no dread of Lina. Many were the significant nods
exchanged, and many a one said to another that the devil and the
witch were old friends. But the woman was only a wise woman, who,
having seen how Curdie and Lina behaved to each other, judged from
that what sort they were, and so made them welcome to her house.
She was not like her fellow townspeople, for that they were
strangers recommended them to her.
The moment her door was shut the other doors began to open, and
soon there appeared little groups here and there about a threshold,
while a few of the more courageous ventured out upon the square -
all ready to make for their houses again, however, upon the least
sign of movement in the little thatched one.
The baker and the barber had joined one of these groups, and were
busily wagging their tongues against Curdie and his horrible beast.
'He can't be honest,' said the barber; 'for he paid me double the
worth of the pane he broke in my window.'
And then he told them how Curdie broke his window by breaking a
stone in the street with his hammer. There the baker struck in.
'Now that was the stone,' said he, 'over which I had fallen three
times within the last month: could it be by fair means he broke
that to pieces at the first blow? Just to make up my mind on that
point I tried his own hammer against a stone in the gate; it nearly
broke both my arms, and loosened half the teeth in my head!'
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