Mittie had red hair that brighten the clear blue Sierra sky as the children raced to find the first stocky red snow flower creeping out from the edge of the retreating snow lines. She wore her braids wrapped around her head and her cheeks were pink from the cool spring air that awakened the valley from winter's long sleep. Four year old Wildey had no trouble keeping up, he was eager for adventure in the mountain ravine overlooking his father's sawmill in the high Sierra.
To proof a title to 450 acres of lush timberland, the family was required to spend a few weeks every summer in a primitive cabin. One room with a window satisfied the claim, and to Wildey's delight left no room for children indoors. The grassy meadows, streams and tall pine were his summer home. His greatest obstacle was his sister Mittie.
Mittie was less impressed, even at the age of eight she could read in McGuffey's Fifth Reader; she could certainly be trusted to roam with her younger brother. She hoped this year would be better. The cabin was one dark room with a dirt floor, and a loft. There were no visits to Mr Case, the school teacher, who lived across the road in Randolph. He encouraged her love for books, but the cabin was too dark to read. She tried reading to Wildey, but he only liked hearing the same short stories with pictures.
Rover, the black labador retriever, didn't seem to mind the floor or Wildey's endless antics which earned him the official title of 'Chief Delayer of Operations'. The three were inseparable friends among a small tight-knit crew of seasoned workers who moved the logs from stump to sawmill. Wildey explored Rover's thick black fur and then mischeviously tugged Rover's ear.
"Stop, it", said Mittie snapped as she impatiently reached for Wildey's hand. Mittie had red hair that fell below her shoulders and danced against the stark blue Sierra sky when she tossed her head at the sound of Rover's yelp. The toddler giggled, and jolted. Rover was quickly in pursuit, emphatically barking while he nipped at Wildey's shirt, which was all great fun until Wildey fell. Rover's impatient tugging annoyed him and he cried out angrily as tears did not ease the sting of his fall. At first Mittie tried to calm the large dog who was now excited by Wildey's whailing, but the dog continued barking. So she picked up Wildey and brush him off.
"Bad Dog", Wildey glared accusingly.
"No blood, no broken bones. I think Rover taught you a lesson." Mittie smiled as she brushed his hair from his face. She knew the lesson wouldn't last long, but he willingly took her hand and went down the path home. "It time to eat."
The sounds of axes and falling trees stopped. Rover bounded ahead of the children, to inspect each bush for strangers and clear the path of snakes before the children. Their shadow was very long as Wildey soon forgot his pain and the children rushed home to a warm meal.
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A mountain in the high sierra's is generally snow-capped. When Wildey is lost his chance of overnight survival at the age of four are zero. How horrible for the family, Mary is pregnant and probably sick because we know the baby died shortly after birth. Although there is no reason to believe Mittie was expected to pick up the slack, I wrote this story as though she was. It was a common expectation that everyone in the family was expected to help and Mittie was especially bright.
The story might have been a sad one except that Rover (his actual name) kept Widley moving and barked constantly so the posse of tweenty men were able to find him. That is the historical fact. Later Rover died in a Sawmill accident and Mittie was never able to have another dog because he was such a tremendous family member.
Jared Diamond writes of animals of burden in "Guns, Germs and Steel". Dog certainly were the most intimate and intelligent animals that furthered mankinds civilization.
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