But the biggest surprise of all came when Captain Smith found that he, too, was to make the trip to the Hospice with the doctor and Prince Jan.

The old man wrote a letter to his daughter, explaining everything and saying he would come to her as soon as he and the doctor could get back.

Jan did not know what all the excitement in the little home meant, but every one patted him or spoke kindly, and the old captain’s eyes were shining all the time, as he trotted about the rooms, whistling.

Chapter XV

AN UNFORGOTTEN TRAIL

Once again Jan went on a big boat, but he did not worry this time, because his friends were with him.  Hippity-Hop and Cheepsie had been left with the doctor’s wife until the captain should return for them.

The voyage was followed by travelling in a train, and each day of the whole journey the doctor and captain visited Jan.  When he was on the train, his friends took him out of the car a number of times, so he could stretch his legs and run about on the ground while the train waited at a station.  It did not take Jan long to understand that if he did not get back in the car he would be left behind.  So he watched very carefully and at the first call of the captain or the doctor, he ran swiftly to the right car and jumped in it.  Passengers on the long train watched him do this, for he never mistook his own car though there were several others just like the one in which he rode.

Jan wore his silver collar, and wherever he went men and women would look at it, then pat his big head and praise him.  He was very happy though he did not know where he and his friends were going.

From the train they stopped at a little town, and early the next morning Jan followed the doctor and the captain to a place where a funny little cart waited them.  A sleepy-looking mule was hitched to the cart, and a driver stood at the mule’s head.  After some talk between the driver and the doctor, the old captain climbed into the cart and the doctor trudged beside it, while the muleteer, as the drivers of these little carts are called, kept near the mule’s head.  At first Jan followed behind them all, but in a short time he found that the road they were trudging became more steep.  Then he trotted ahead and led the way, but looked back often to see that every one was all right.

The town where they had spent the night was perched on a high bluff overlooking a noisy, scurrying little river that seemed in a great hurry to get some place else.  The road Jan now travelled climbed higher and higher, but as he stopped and looked down he could see the river gurgling and hurrying along.  It was a queer little stream, and the muleteer called it the Dranse.  In places Jan could not see it at all, and then when he thought it had gone in another direction, it popped out, foaming and spluttering as though it thought Jan had been fooled.  Sometimes it appeared to be running backward, and then suddenly it seemed to be racing forward, and always it kept playing its game of hide-and-seek with them all, and laughing and dancing like a merry elf or water-sprite.  The river kept all of them interested until they stopped at a little village, which the muleteer said was Cantine de Proz.