The big wave slipped back, others rose behind it, each one tipped with white foam, and between those waves were deep, dark hollows.  Jan looked at them, and as he looked, something changed those white-capped things into snowy peaks of the mountains around the Hospice, while the dark places between were changed to chasms and crevasses, where Barry, Pluto, Pallas, Rex and all the dogs of the Hospice had travelled year after year for ten centuries past.  He heard their voices calling him.  Jan’s ears cocked up, his body quivered, his muscles stiffened, his nose pointed high in the air and the cry he sent back to the calls of his kin was clear and strong like the music of a wonderful, deep-toned bell.  Then he braced himself and leaped far out into the water that caught him like many strong arms and dragged him under the waves.

With all his great strength Jan fought his way to the surface and as he rose, something struck against him.  He turned quickly to see what new danger threatened, and then he saw the rope and remembered what he had been told.

“Go get it, Jan!” his master had said.

[Illustration:  "Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of the Hospice dogs—­’The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!’"]

The dog caught the squirming rope between his teeth, and as he did so, he heard distinctly the cheers of those on the stranded ship echoed by those on the shore before he was pulled down beneath the waves again; but he clung to the rope.  When he reached the surface, Jan saw his master leaning far over the edge of the deck, pointing toward the land.

Then he understood, and without a moment’s hesitation he flung his body away from the direction of the boat and faced the shore, while the rope trailed behind him, often dragging him back with terrific jerks.  The force of the waves tossed him high on dizzy crests, then he was dropped swiftly into depths of seething water.  His breath came in painful gasps between his tightly clinched teeth, the water rang in his ears and he was half-blinded by the stinging salt spray that cut like a sharp knife across his eyes.

In spite of his struggles he seemed no nearer the land.  Back of him he could see the swaying masts of the boat, and at times the whole length of the deck with people crowded together.  Jan, dazed and almost exhausted, turned to swim back to his master and safety.  His paws beat the waves more feebly, but his teeth still held the rope.  Down, down, down he sank, and over his head rolled the white-crested mountains of water.  Then the roaring in his ears turned to the voices of the Hospice dogs.  The voices of Barry Bruno, Rex and Jan’s mother sounded clearly.  Other dogs joined in the chorus until Jan knew that he heard the voices of all the dogs that had ever lived in the Hospice.  Hundreds and hundreds of deep notes, like the bells of the Hospice sending a message to him.  “The duty of a St. Bernard is to save lives!”