Bruno understood that the soft little whimpers were promises that each puppy would do his best when the test came to him.  Jan and Rollo watched the old dog, limping from rheumatism in his shoulders, move slowly across the enclosed yard that opened from the kennels.  Bruno was no longer able to go out on the trails, but spent his days teaching the young dogs.  Sometimes he would lie asleep, and when his paws jerked and his tail moved, Jan’s mother would say, “Be quiet, children!  Bruno is dreaming he is out on the trail.”

Then she would speak softly, “When you are older you will be taught to break trails through the snow and carry food and wine, fastened about your necks.  You may be tempted, when the wind howls and the snow blinds you, to sneak back or hide in a sheltered place.  You must not forget, as long as you live, that there was never a traitor or coward in your father’s family or in mine.  When you remember this, you will stagger on or crawl, if you cannot stand, and keep your nose close to the ground, sniffing and sniffing.”

She turned her head toward the white peaks that loomed high above the stone walls around the enclosure.  “Only a St. Bernard can tell whether the snow which has drifted during the night is strong enough to bear the weight of a man, or whether that man would sink beyond rescuing.”

Jan and his brother waited respectfully when she stopped speaking and stared at the mountain-tops, until she said, “Sometimes, you will find an ice-bridge.  Then you must go very carefully.  If it creaks beneath your weight, never let any human being step on it, even if you must fight him back.  Your father, Rex, died when an ice-bridge broke through; but he saved four men from death.  Always remember one thing.  To die doing one’s duty is the greatest honor that can come to a St. Bernard.”

The two puppies whined softly and their mother knew that each of her children was promising that he would do his best to be worthy of such a father.

“Ah,” said Prince Jan to his brother, as their mother crossed the yard toward the kennel, “some day we, too, will go out and do our work.  Won’t that be glorious, Rollo?”

In their happiness they raced to their mother, who watched them with loving, proud eyes.  When they reached her side Jan measured himself to see how much bigger he must grow, for though he was large for his age, he was only six months old.

“Oh, if I could only grow faster, mother!” he cried.

“Be patient, Jan,” she answered, biting his ear gently.  “Your time is coming soon!”

“My time is coming!  My time is coming!” Jan leaped and barked in glee.

“Mine, too!” called Rollo.  “We’ll work together, Jan!”

The big door leading from the enclosure where the dogs romped and played swung open, and two men who came out, stood looking at the dogs.  The puppies watched eagerly, for these men had charge of the youngsters.  All the dogs knew them, and even if the men had been strangers the Hospice dogs would have known they were monks who belonged to the Hospice, for the clothes they wore were different from the clothes of other men who came to the Hospice for a day or two.