It weighed forty pounds but was no heavier load than he had frequently taken home to Silver and the pups. He lifted the heavy end and started for the cabin, the foot trailing on the ground beside him. Every few yards the weight tired his neck and he rested, sometimes taking the foot and dragging the heavy end.
The girl sat in the cabin, wondering at his long absence, when she heard a peculiar dragging sound punctuated with dull thumps as Flash wrestled the heavy quarter up the slope from the game trail, jerking it over and through the windfall jams.
She opened to his scratching and he backed in, pulling his offering across the sill.
The frayed end of the meat was black with dirt and spruce needles, and she drew back from the gruesome relic. She little suspected that Flash had killed this elk for her but naturally supposed he had found a portion of some dead animal and brought it in.
Her eyes were bright with tears as she patted and stroked his head.
You’re a good provider, Flash,” she praised. “You don’t want me to starve on beans and rice, do you, old boy? There was never in this world another dog like you.”
