ON THIS farm were large barns where the blooded horses and bulls were housed at night, each in his own stall, and over all were great hay mows where the hay and feed for them were kept.
Billy was fastened in one of these stalls every night, because previous to this he had eaten all the blossoms off the lemon tree, which was the pride of the mistress; chewed the bosom out of his master’s dress shirts for the starch that was in them; nibbled the trailing vines off the hanging baskets on the front veranda; and chewed the sleeve out of the cook’s new red calico wrapper that was hanging on a line outside to dry. Stubby, however, was allowed to rove around at will, but he always preferred to be locked up with Billy, as it was so lonesome when left alone outside.
As luck would have it, on the night of the fire he preferred to remain outside to gnaw on some bones he had hidden and to have a talk with a little hairless Chihuahua dog that lived on the farm. Had it not been for this, Billy might have been burned to death and this story brought to an untimely end, besides Stubby would have lost the chance of making himself a hero.
It was near midnight. His feast and chat with the Chihuahua dog were over and he was lying asleep just outside of Billy’s stall. Suddenly he was awakened by something hot dropping on his head and paw. Jumping up to find out what had hurt him, he saw flames pouring out of the open windows of the hayloft, and as he looked the frightened faces of two tramps appeared at the windows and then disappeared, only to reappear at another window where there was less fire. This window they climbed into and stood prepared to jump, but hesitated before taking the risk from that height, until the flames drove them off and they half jumped, half fell, to the yard below, where they dropped uninjured upon a pile of straw. They had scarcely landed when Stubby was after them, barking and biting at their legs, while they took to their heels in double-quick time, glad to get off the premises. Stubby did not follow them, for he knew that he must hurry back and awaken the household so some one would come and unlock the stall door where his beloved Billy was fastened. He ran back to the barn and commenced to bark, telling Billy that the barn was on fire.
“I knew it, Stubby. I have been smelling fire and smoke for the last half hour, but did not know where it came from. My stall is so dense with smoke I can’t see, and if it were not for this strong rope around my neck I would be out of here, for I could easily butt down the door, but this rope is as tough and strong as iron. I have been chewing it ever since I smelt the smoke, but it still holds together. I have pulled until my neck is nearly severed from my body and still it won’t break or slip over my horns. The horses and cattle are all in a panic and are snuffing and pawing like mad.”
“Keep on chewing, Billy, while I run to the house after help. Everything is quiet there; the night watchman sneaked to the city when every one went to bed and he has not returned, and at the house all are fast asleep, never suspecting that their property is being destroyed and their cattle in danger of cremation. Oh, why did the watchman leave his post?” And Stubby literally flew to the house and barked and barked, jumping against the door to make more noise and calling to the little Chihuahua dog to help arouse the sleeping inmates.
Every minute the flames rose higher and higher and the blazing building lit up the landscape for miles around. But the inmates slept serenely. Stubby ran to the back of the house and upset a lot of milk pails, knowing they would make a terrible clatter as they rolled about on the stones, then back again he ran to his master’s door, growling as before. At last a sleepy voice called out:
“If you are after a cat, let her alone and lie down; don’t arouse the whole household with your noisy barking.”
“At last I have awakened some one,” said Stubby, “and I shall make more noise than ever,” so he ran toward the barn and back again, barking furiously all the time, so that his master would know something was wrong there, then he again went to the door and growled and whined.
“There must be something the matter or Stubby would not make such a fuss,” said his master to his wife. “I’ll just get up and look out of the window,” and as he raised the window shade the whole room was flooded with the red glare of fire.
“My God! wife, the barn is on fire and I have been lying here like a log while that noble dog has been trying to awaken me, and I trying to drive him off, thinking he was chasing cats!”
Stubby’s master only waited to step into a pair of trousers and slippers before he followed Stubby on flying feet to the barn, just stopping long enough on the way to ring the alarm bell that hung on a high pole and could be heard all over the farm. This unusual sound in the dead of night awoke all of the farm-hands, and they came running along as fast as their feet could carry them, rubbing their sleepy eyes, wondering what danger menaced them, for this bell was never to be rung except in case of fire or danger.
One glance at the blazing barn drove all sleep from their eyes and they rushed toward the fire; their one thought being to save the horses and bulls; the bulls that were to fight in to-morrow’s fight and which had been reared and fatted for this express purpose. Apart from the great financial loss, it would spoil to-morrow’s sport for thousands and thousands of Spaniards and Mexicans who were anxiously awaiting the great event. These men, being Mexicans, did not think it cruel to sacrifice bulls and horses and men even in these fights, which are national affairs; but we think if the poor animals knew what was awaiting them on the morrow, they would not have tried so frantically to escape death by fire.
As Stubby and his master were approaching the barn, one end of the roof fell in—that end where Billy’s stall was, and on seeing this Stubby gave a howl of despair; but the next second was blinking to see if his eyes were not deceiving him, for who should come out of the stall door with a bound but Billy! The goat had at last succeeded in chewing his rope in two, and, that done, it was an easy matter to butt down the door. Better yet, the bulls, seeing this opening, had broken out of their stalls and were following Billy. The roof had caught on some strong cross-beams and had not fallen on the cattle in the stalls.
Soon all the bulls were out, but to get the horses out was another matter, for, as you know, horses will remain in a burning building in spite of everything, unless you can cover their heads and lead them out, and even then it is a hard matter to get them to stay out. With the help of all hands, however, they succeeded in saving the horses, but none too soon, for as the last one was led out, the whole barn crushed in and a few minutes more was nothing but a red heap of burning timbers. Stubby’s master was so thankful for the escape of his expensive horses and valuable bulls that he did not give the loss of the barn a second thought, and when it was all over he called Stubby and said:
“Boys, do you see this little dog? Well, if it had not been for him all my valuable stock would have been buried under that bed of burning coals and I should have been a poor man, as all my wealth is tied up in horses and cattle. It was he who awakened me and gave the alarm of fire. For this he shall have a collar of gold with this motto inscribed upon it, ‘To Stubby for saving forty lives this collar is affectionately dedicated by his master, Carlos Otero.’ Stubby can always wear this collar as Billy does his, telling of this brave deed.”
The night watchman, hearing what had happened through his neglect, never came back, as he was too ashamed and afraid to face his master.
Every one wondered how the barn caught on fire; some thought the watchman had set it on fire, others thought one of the stable boys had been careless about smoking and a spark from his pipe had set fire to the hay; but no one but Stubby really knew about the two tramps whose pipes had done all the mischief.