Her tail
was enormous. Her eyes were like balls of fire, and she was spitting and
snarling, as if to say, "If you touch me, I'll tear you to pieces!"
The dog, big as he was, did not dare attack her. He walked around and
around, like a great clumsy elephant, and she turned her small body as
he turned his, and kept up a dreadful hissing and spitting. Suddenly I
saw a Spitz dog hurrying down the street. He was going to help the
mastiff, and Malta would be badly hurt. I had barked and no one had come
to let me out, so I sprang through the window.
Just then there was a change. Malta had seen the second dog, and she
knew she must get rid of the mastiff. With an agile bound she sprang on
his back, dug her sharp claws in, till he put his tail between his legs
and ran up the street, howling with pain. She rode a little way, then
sprang off and ran up the lane to the stable.
I was very angry and wanted to fight something, so I pitched into the
Spitz dog. He was a snarly, cross-grained creature, no friend to Jim and
me, and he would have been only too glad of a chance to help kill Malta.
I gave him one of the worst beatings he ever had.
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