BLACK DOG IN A WHITE WORLD

By

Neal Horsley

PROLOGUE

THE STORY

The reverend paused, then began to tell the warden his story:

Issac Jackson was his name: he was my grandfather. He was a big man, but that was not unusual for the cold north country. The way he told it, men had to be big to survive in those days. When the north winds blew and the wolves started to come down out of the timber, men had to be big.

"He's crazy," was what the man told Issac Jackson, "Loco crazy as a maddog. All he's good for is shootin'."

The two men stood side by side, heavily bundled against the wind that roared across the tundra. They shielded their eyes as they stared at the dog chained to a peg driven into the ice.

The dog bristled like a mammoth black porcupine with fangs two inches long. A steady growl was punctuated by a short roar and lunge at any sign of movement from the men.

"You plan to shoot him?" Issac Jackson asked the man standing at his side.

The dog's owner immediately recognized his mistake and said, "No, course not. I'm just kidding. Actually, he's a good dog. Don't know what's got him so riled up. Look at the size of him. You won't find a bigger dog within a hunnerd miles. He's strong as a mule. Pull a sled by hisself. He's all right, just a mite riled. Calm down any minute." He paused, looked innocently at Issac Jackson, and said, "You wouldn't be interested in buying him would you? I got more dogs than I need. I might be willing to let him go, if you're needing a good lead dog."

Issac Jackson felt like laughing at the man's obvious lie, but having no desire to start a fight, he looked at the man and said, "I might take him off your hands."

Literally licking his lips, the man said, "I'll take eighty dollars."

"I'll not give cash money."

"Well, what you got to trade?"

"I got beaver and mink."

"He's yours for twenty mink, if they're in good shape."

"I said I got beaver and mink; I didn't say I'd trade them for him. What I'll trade is fish. I'll give you twenty pounds salmon, froze in the fall."

"You got to been out in the wind too long, that dog's worth a hunnerd dollars."

"What that dog is is crazy. You said so yourself."

"Hey, listen friend, I was just cuttin' up when I said that. He's a spirited animal, that's all."

As the men talked, the dog's snarls were occasionally interrupted by the chain choking off his voice. Issac Jackson said, "If you don't sell him to me, he's gonna choke hisself to death anyway. Then you won't end up with nothing but a hunnerd-fifty pounds of dead dog."

"Aw, he ain't gonna choke. He's just stirred up a mite. I'm telling you that's a good dog, worth maybe a hunnerd dollars."

Issac Jackson looked in the man's eyes and shrugged to indicate the end of the conversation. "Well it's been good talking to you. I 'spect I better get back out on the trail."

"Wait a minute. Now ain't no need to rush off. I see you're a man that drives a hard bargain. But I'm willing to 'gotiate. Tell you what I'll do, I'll let you have him for ten mink. You ain't gonna get twenty dollar at Benson's for ten mink. Think of it, you're getting maybe the finest hunk of dogflesh anywhere around here for less'n twenty dollar."

Issac Jackson walked over to his sled, pulled back the hide covering his load, reached in and pulled out a frozen chunk of fish. "I 'spect there's about ten pounds here, take it or leave it."

"Ten pounds! You said twenty!"

"That was before I saw those cuts on that dog's neck. That chain's cut down near the big vein. I doubt whether he's gonna make it."

"What you mean, gonna make it? Course he's gonna make it. Gimme that fish for a minute." He hurriedly inspected the fish and as he transferred it to his sled he said, "Well mister, I don't know where you learned to trade but you're as good as I ever seen. I know I'm gonna regret it, but I'm gonna let you have that dog. Yessir, I'm gonna regret it, but I got more dogs than I need anyhow."

The man's phony seriousness forced a small grin on Issac Jackson's face, "I know you do hate to see him go." Matching the seriousness of the other man's tone, he continued, "sometimes a feller just has to do what he has to do."

Yep, I reckon you're right. Well now, you just take him right on. Just take my chain off him and I'll be on my way.

Issac Jackson thought about that for a minute, then said, "I reckon since it's your chain, you might as well take if off him."

The man looked at the viciously snarling dog, "Nossir! He's your dog now; I ain't having nothing to do with him. Just gimme my chain and I'll be on my way."

Issac Jackson scratched at his beard, "Seems like we got a problem with that chain."

The man bristled, "Well it's not my problem. I sold you the dog and he's wearing my chain. I just want my chain.

"Well go ahead and get it."

"Listen, I done sold you the dog. The way I see it, when I sold you the dog, you became the one who had to take care of him. Right?"

"Right."

"Well now, what I'm saying is, you're the one who has to take the chain off."

"You know, I'd agree with you, if I'd been the one to put the chain on him. But I didn't: You did. I figure you best take it off." Issac Jackson looked directly in the man's eyes for about five seconds and said, "Fact is, I ain't taking it off for awhile. What I'm fixing to do is fix me something to eat and maybe rest some."

"You mean you won't take it off?"

"Not for awhile I won't."

"Then how am I gonna get my chain?"

"I reckon you're gonna have to wait around until I get ready to go."

"I ain't got time to wait. I'm fixing to go now."

Issac Jackson looked at the man and shrugged.

"Well if that don't beat all. You ain't gonna give me my chain are you?"

"Like I said, help yourself."

"Mister, I've treated you fair. That's a fine dog you're getting there. And I gave you a good deal. A great deal. And here you are trying to do me out of my chain. I need that chain. Now get me my chain!"

Issac Jackson was perfectly relaxed and gave no sign that he had heard the man's command.

"I said get me that chain!"

"Mister," Issac Jackson said as if he were talking about the weather, "the way I see it one of us is getting very close to getting killed. If you raise your voice at me one more time, you better have your gun in your hand and it better be shootin, cause mine will."

"What?"

"You heard me."

There was a long pause as a deeper kind of communication occurred, "Uh, I tell you what, I'll leave that chain on him. If we run into each other on the trail sometime, you just give it to me then. How does that sound?"

"Well I ain't making no promises but if I still have it, I reckon I'd give it back to you."

"Yes, well that's fair. Yessir, that's fair. Don't know why I didn't think of that earlier. Would've saved us all this jawbonin'. Well now, let me get on down the trail. Got ten mile to make before dark." With a quick glance over his shoulder toward Issac Jackson, the dog's previous owner moved to his loaded sled. Shaking it from side to side to free its runners, he continued to speak as if to himself, "Yessir, don't know why I didn't think of that sooner. Fine idea, fine idea," he said as he followed his dogs away.

Issac Jackson stood for a moment looking at the dog. The great furry black hulk sat there staring back at him with his head tilted to one side as if he were examining a thing never seen.

"Well ain't you something. I don't reckon I ever seen one as big as you."

"Well, ol feller, I reckon me and you got to get to know each other. How's about I get you something to eat?"

Later he stood looking at the dog in amazement, "I admit this, I never seen a dog eat anything that fast before. You outdo a grizzly, you know that? Didn't anybody ever tell you that you was supposed to chew before you swaller? I ain't giving you no more. You already ate your share and two others. I figure we need to sit here and talk awhile longer, then what I need to do is see if you'll let me take that chain off you and put something on that neck of yours. If I don'tall this foods gonna be wasted. Cause, well ol buddy, looks to me like that neck's gonna get you if I don't get that chain off."

When the man began his speech the dog's tail twitched slightly. As Issac Jackson continued to speak, the dog's tail continued to twitch harder until by the end of the speech his tail was thudding against the hard packed snow like a five pound hammer rock.

"So you think you could stand that, huh? You think as how you could live with that, huh? Well I sure hope so, ol buddy, I sure hope so." Continuing in the same tone of voice, he said, "Cause I tell you what. You're about the most dangerous looking hung of dogmeat I ever laid eyes on, and I know that if you had the foggiest idea how little I wanted to try to put a hand on you, it would scare you about one half as scared as I am now,and what we both need is for you to think that I am perfectly comfortable as I begin to stand up and ease very slowly in your direction. Ain't that right ol friend? Cause you are my friend, ain't you ol friend? Cause you're a good dog if you want to be, ain't you? And I sure hope you want to be,cause I could sure use a dog like you out here in this dadburned snow,and I can't do nothing with you if you act toward me like you acted with the idjut who used to own you,so what I'm gonna do is just come on over there with you,and I'm going to reach out my hand..."

As the man talked the dog was at first soothed by the sound of his voice and his tail thumped even harder against the snow, but as the man rose and appeared to be ready to advance toward him, the old fear began to return. A growl was born deep within him that began to resonate its way toward his throat. The tilt in his head was corrected and a light began to burn in his eyes. opening his mouth slightly, a growl eased out from between his teeth and waited for the man.

Without changing tone the man said, "Yep, that's about what I figured ol friend, it's not going to be that easy, is it? Me and you is going to have to work this out. but it ain't going to be easy. So what I think I'll do is just maybe back up a bit and have us another talk."

He backed off a couple of steps and squatted. "You see, what we've got to do is reach an understanding. What you've got to understand is that I am your friend. I don't know what you've been through, but I reckon I can guess. And I know it hasn't been easy for you. Still you are gonna have to get it through your head that I am not interested in hurting you. See? And what I am going to have to understand is that no matter how big you are, or how ferocious you sound, you are just a dog. And I am a man. And a dog hasn't got as much sense as a man; and if a man uses his head he can figure out how to master any dog alive. I've got to understand that, and I've got to show you I understand. That's all there is to it." Issac Jackson rebalanced himself on his heels and stared silently at the dog.

The dog felt himself begin to calm. After a few moments he lay down in the snow with his huge head nestled on his front paws.

Breaking the silence, Issac Jackson rose to his feet, "Looks like this is gonna take awhile,so I might as well set up camp." He moved back to his sled and began to untie the dogs lined up resting in the snow. He talked to each dog as he tethered them in a large circle. After the dogs were staked and fed and his lean-to erected and his bedroll laid out, he began to build the fire that would warm the circle of animals he had laid around his camp. His conversation during this work was peaceful: he commented on everything that came to mind as he worked, speaking as if all his dogs were somehow responding to his remarks, "Yep, I'd say the weather is gonna hold good for at least another day or two. Course ain't none of us in danger of heat stroke, but at least we don't have to hole up somewhere. Yep, we can keep moving and get to Benson's in two or three days if I can get that dog in line. Course that's easier said than eone. Did you like that, Fuzzy? Had a ring to it, didn't it? Easier said than done. Feller like me ought to be a poet 'stead of walking around feeding a bunch of half-wild critters that think I'm looney cause I talk to 'em all the time. Well I'll tell you what,ol tail waggers, if I hadn't got a bug to go gold hunting, I might've been a poet. Ain't no telling what I might of been. Course what I am right now is scared. Most near as scared as I was when I called that idjut's bluff when he was trying to buffalo me over that dog. Did you see me boys? 'Your gun better be shootin' cause mine will." He laughed uproariously, "He most near wet hisself. Course I was purty near wetting myself too. I'm just glad I didn't show it none." He paused and spoke in a serious tone, "I just hope I can do as good with that bear passing for a dog I got chained up over there. Look at him, boys. How you all like the idea of something as ferocious looking as that pulling sled with you? If we can get that thing in harness, I 'spect most of you can just lay down and let him drag us all. How does that sound? Course I 'spect ol Max there is not too happy about that idea. You too used to being top dog around here, Max. You know that? That dog over there is gonna be a little harder to buffalo than the rest of these mangy mutts. No offense intended fellers, just kidding. Actually, you're as fine a looking team of sled dogs as there is in Alasky. Course that ain't saying a whole lot."

Throughout his monologue, the work of setting up camp had continued until everything was in place: the sled was unpacked, the hides that covered the poles that made up his lean-to were spread and tied, the cooking skillet was warming over the fire, the dogs were crunching their teeth into frozen whole salmon, and his bedroll was down and waiting. He surveyed his work, "Looks about right, boys. Wouldn't you agree?" Gazing toward the sky he continued, "I'd say we had two hours before dark, which is two hours I can use getting to know that thing over there."

He turned to look at the great black dog who had lain silently throughout the time the camp was being set up. Chained to a tree about fifteen feet from the campsite, the dog could hear everything the man was saying, and somehow the baritone richness of the man's voice had filled the dog's mind until thoughts of the pain from the raw wounds on his neck could find no entrance. The dog watched the man leave the campfire and walk in his direction. once again he felt the strange sensation he had felt earlier when the man had spoken to him. He heard his tail thump the snow behind him.

"Howdy, fella."

"Nope," he said to himself, "that won't do." He paused. "You need something dignified, something strong. I've got to get serious with you. I tell you what your name is: Black. How does that sound? Fits you, that's what it does. Fits you. Black. Black Dog. Mister Black Dog. That's who you are. Mister Black Dog. Well, how do you do, Mister Black Dog? I just thought I'd come over and see if you're interested in joining up with us. I know we don't look like much at first glance, but there's some things I'd like to tell you that might make you interested in joining us. Now first of all, look at that bunch over there. That's eight of the best fed, best cared for, canines in Alasky. Look at them feasting on that salmon. Well, you know who got them that salmon? Me, that's who. I caught it myself this fall and froze it sols them dogs would have something to eat when it got cold like it is now, and there wasn't no food for miles around that wouldn't try to eat you before you had a chance to eat it. That's right, I did all that for them dogs, and you know why? I love 'em, that's why. Now I know it's a fact that there's folks up here as just as soon eat a dog as a salmon, and have no real feeling for 'em one way or another. To them a dog is just another hunk of meat. But to me a dog is somebody. And those dogs over there know they're somebody, cause I treat 'em like somebody. Ain't that right, boys?" The feeding dogs managed to interrupt their contented gnawing long enough to cast a glance in Issac Jackson's direction. "See. Have you ever seen a more contented bunch? Thank you boys, you can get back to your dinner. Now, Mister Black Dog, as I said earlier, I'd like for you to join up with us. All I ask of my boys is to head out and see what's down the trail--which by the way is what my boys love to do. Everyday when the sun comes up you can see it clear as day, them dogs just naturally want to get out and see what's over the next hill, and the next, and so on. Well, what I do is give 'em what they want. I tell 'em: Yessir, you dogs just get up and go on down the trail and investigate what's over that next hill. As a matter of fact,' I say, I I think I'll just go along with you. And if you don't mind,' says I,'we'll just take this little ol sled along with us.' Well, of course, seeing as how they wart to get on down the trail anyway and were planning on going in that direction all along, the idea of that little ol sled tagging along is not a bit of trouble, so they do it gladly. Now what I'm asking you, Mister Black Dog, is would you like to join us in our daily excursions? Course, to be honest with you, there is just a mite more to it than I told you.

You see, every one of those dogs over there has decided that the best way to get to where they want to go is to do what I tell 'em to do. As a matter of fact, the reason they're with us now, is they reached that decision. In other words, Mister Black Dog, they decided that I knew best how to get them where they wanted to go, so they decided to go where I told them. The reason they decided that is they figured out that I really cared about them; they figured the way they could stay alive best was to go along with me. In your case, I think the best thing for you to do is reach that decision too. Now I'll be honest with you, I've took quite a shine to you. You got to be maybe the finest looking dog I ever laid eyes on. And I had a feeling from the first time I saw you that you was supposed to be my dog. But I see that you haven't figured that out yet, so me and you is going to have to reach an understanding."

Throughout the time of talking, Issac Jackson had been coming ever closer to the black dog. His hands were at his sides with his palms hidden from the dog's sight. He was bent at the waist so that his head was low to the ground. When he had first begun to speak, the dog had remained stretched on the ground, but as he grew nearer the dog rcse to his feet. Still unfrightened, the dog watched with an expression of deep concentration on his face. His tail's slow wagging was his only movement. He loved listening to the man talk. He didn't know what the feeling was of course. All he knew was he felt warm and alive and on the verge of movement, the same way he dimly remembered moving around the great furry thing that had kept him warm long ago. He didn't know how long, and he had no clear memory of what it was that had given him such warmth and made him want to move like he wanted to move now. But there was something there in his mind that had made him want to rear up and lick and make laughing sounds in his throat. He knew it was long ago he had felt that way. Still this man's voice made him remember those times.

Issac Jackson's face grew larger in the dog's eyes until his face filled the dog's vision. His voice equally filled his mind and he was entranced by his presence, until he glimpsed Issac Jackson's hand moving slowly into his field of vision.

With no more thought than a bent limb when it snaps back into place, the dog struck.

"Git back, you dadblamed fool!"

The chain kept the dog from moving after Issac Jackson who had flung himself backward into the snow. Every ounce of the dog was testing the strength of the chain that held him. Seeing the chain was secure, Issac Jackson rose, brushed the snow from his hide coat and stood looking at the dog who was beginning to still the roars coming from his throat.

Moving around to drive the tension from his body, Issac Jackson began to speak, "You dadblamed idjut! If you had bit me it would be all over for you. I don't know what your problem is, but I know one thing, if you bite me you're a dead dog. And that's a fact. I can't have no dog around I can't trust. Now you got to figure that out. There's something strange about you. You know that? One minute you act like a great big pl-ippy looking for a friend and the next, without any warning, you're trying to go for my throat. That don't make a bit of sense. I can understand if you're wild and won't have anything to do with anybody under any circumstances, but you don't act like that. All the time I was talking you were feeling good about having me around, then Blam! you try to take my head off." He suddenly turned to face the dog, "You son of a bitch! Don't you try to bite me again!"

The dog had returned to his previously placid state and seemed to be startled that the man would yell at him. Once again his head tilted to the side.

Issac Jackson said, "Ain't you something. You act like you don't know a thing about what you just tried to do."

"You godblasted idjut! Git back!"

Squatting again in the snow he gave the dog a chance to stop roaring and calm himself. "So that's it. You crazy as a bedbug, after all. That man was right. You won't let nobody lay a hand on you." He ran his hand through his chin hair, "I would say you heive got a problem, Mister Black Dog, a problem that could well be fatal for you."

**************************

The next morning he awoke with the dog on his mind. Shooting a bear-mauled dog with his innards hanging out was one thing; shooting a dog because he was crazy was more than he was prepared for. But he saw no alternative. Three times before dark he had tried to approach the dog and three times, as soon as he moved a hand to touch him the dog had attacked with the obvious intention of killing him. As he stirred himself and began to care for his dogs, his mind tussled with the problem. Why would a dog act like that? What could have happened that would make a dog crazy like that? Wouldn't let a hand be laid on him.

The thought froze him in his work. A hand. That's it. It's the hand that scares him. Now if somebody that owned him before had convinced him that every time he saw a hand coming it was going to hurt him, the dog would just naturally do whatever he could to stop that hand. Yep, that's probably what happened. Lot of good it does me to know that. How do you work with a dog without showing a hand? Impossible. Can't be done.

As he thought, a picture formed in his mind. When he saw the pictue he stopped what he was doing, thought for a minute longer and said aloud, "No sir, not me. No Sir!" He went back to fixing his coffee. Again he spoke aloud, "If that don't beat all. There ain't no way I'm doing that."

The dog watched as Issac Jackson got down on his knees and began to kneewalk toward him. Issac's hands were behind his back. The soothing tones of his voice told the dog what he wanted to hear and he was once acain burbling inside. As Issac's face came closer the dog felt the bubbling begin to turn to fear. A snarl began to form as he felt his lip rise up on his teeth. He slowly drew his head back. No man had come this close before.

"Now friend, I know you're scared, but no scareder than me. You're my big buddy. You're my dog and that's just all there is to it.

The face kept coming closer and closer and the dog felt his heart begin to pound in fear. But his ears heard the soothing tones of the man's voice. He was confused. Deeply confused. Now, the man's face was no more than two feet away. He could take that face away; he knew he could. But something held him back. It was that feeling, that same feeling he dimly remembered. The feeling he had when he was

with that furry warm one long ago. But the fear was great and growing as the man's face grew ever larger in his eyes. He could feel the snarl drop deeper in his chest and he could feel has body shaking.

"I tell you this ol friend, you ain't no more shook than me, but you just hold on, cause I ain't gonna hurt you. No sir, I'm your friend, I care for you. I won't hurt you. You know that. Nossir, I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you. I won't hurt you.

Now the man was there. Five inches separated the man's eyes from those of the dog's, whose head, pulled back as far as it would go on his chest, showed eyes absolutely ablaze with fear. The huge teeth shined exposed under the curved lip.

I'm right here, my friend. You don't want to hurt me, not really. You want to be my dog. You want to be my dog." As he said those words, Issac Jackson's hands slowly began to come from behind his back. Issac Jackson watched the dog's eyes and could see that only his face was reflected there. With utmost slowness as he talked, Issac Jackson moved his hands along the ground until they were extended by the dog's side, though still not touching him.

"Now you just calm down my friend. Just you wait a minute, cause I'm your friend. Nobody wants to hurt you. You just wait a minute. Just a minute more and you'll see what I mean. Cause you're my dog.

As he said those last words Issac Jackson's hands met around the dog's back and he held him in his arms. The dog froze and stopped breathing. Issac Jackson had his face pressed against the face of the huge black dog and he wasn't breathing either. Suddenly the dog began to shake all over. Issac Jackson felt the dog's head move away and he held on tight. Then he felt this huge slopping tongue splash against the side of his face. He turned his head and got the tongue right between the eyes. A huge grin broke out on his face. "You ugly smelly dadburned idjut, you knew you was my dog, didn't you? You knew it all the time, didn't you? As he talked his hands moved up the dogs back until they were rubbing the thick hair on his head. "You ain't nothing but a big puppy, are you! You ain't had nobody touch you in so long you just can't get enough can you?"

His hands moved all over the dog acquainting him with their feel. He even put his hands in the dog's mouth. "Here get a taste of these ol feller, get to know them real good. They ain't nothing to be afraid of. Nossir, you never got to be afraid of these hands again. These hands gonna feed you and take care of you from now on, and you gonna be the best sled dog that ever wore a leather dress on the trail."

The dog replied with his tongue.