The Incredible Journey
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Instinct told them that the way home lay to the west. And so the doughty young Labrador retriever, the roguish bull terrier and the indomitable Siamese set out through the Canadian wilderness. Separately, they would soon have died. But, together, the three house pets faced starvation, exposure, and wild forest animals to make their way home to the family they love. The Incredible Journey is one of the great children's stories of all time--and has been popular ever since its debut in 1961.
the slight wind like smoke. The old dog saw nothing of this, but his ears and nose supplied all that he needed to know: he could contain himself no longer and picked his way carefully down the hillside, for his shoulder still pained him. Halfway down he sneezed violently in an eddy of chaff. One of the boys by the fire looked up at the sound, his hand closing on a stone, but the woman nearby spoke sharply, and he waited, watching intently. The old dog limped out of the shadows and into the ring
to his upbringing and his ancestors, “AND”—and he paused in weighty emphasis—“a very … bad … dog!” At these two dread words the terrier laid his ears flat against his skull, slanted his eyes back until they almost disappeared, then drew his lips back over his teeth in an apologetic grin, quivering the end of his disgraceful tail. His parody of sorrow brought its usual reprieve: the man laughed and patted the bony head, then enticed him down with the promise of a run. So the old dog, who was a
dog fell in behind unquestioningly, following him back to the farmhouse, his resistance weakened to the point where he longed only to be back in the well-ordered world of human beings, that solid world where men commanded and dogs obeyed. Crossing the fields, the stranger padding trustingly at his heels, Mackenzie suddenly remembered the other dog, and frowned in bewilderment. How many more unlikely dogs in need of succor would he lead into the farmhouse kitchen today—a lame poodle this
to make their way back to familiar territory. The possibilities were endless, and only one thing was certain—that they had been on the road long enough for scars to heal and quills to work their way inside a mouth; and long enough to know starvation. “So they could have come from a hundred miles away or more,” said Mackenzie. “From Manitoba, even. I wonder what they can have lived on, all that time—” “Hunting? Scrounging at other farms? Stealing, perhaps?” suggested Nell, who had watched with
they’re traced—they may never be.” “I want them,” she said simply, “for as long as they will stay. And in the meantime we must find something else to call them besides ‘Hi!’ or ‘Good dog.’ I’ll think of something while you’re away,” she added, “and I’ll take some more milk out to the stable during the morning.” From his sunny observation post on the woodpile, the cat had watched Mackenzie cross the yard and usher the two dogs into a warm, sweet-smelling stable, shutting the door carefully