and rolling in the leaves； it was a bright spot in the grounds；
but the only one； for she had not found a rotten fish…head nor
seen a genuine garbage…can since she came； and altogether it was
the most unlovely； unattractive； unsmellable spot she had ever
known。 She would surely have gone that first night had she had
the liberty。 The liberty was weeks in coming； and； meanwhile； her
affinity with the cook had developed as a bond to keep her； but
one day after a summer of discontent a succession of things
happened to stir anew the slum instinct of the royal prisoner。
A great bundle of stuff from the docks had reached the country
mansion。 What it contained was of little moment； but it was rich
with a score of the most piquant and winsome of dock and slum
smells。 The chords of memory surely dwell in the nose； and
Pussy's past was conjured up with dangerous force。 Next day the
cook 'left' through some trouble over this very bundle。 It was
the cutting of cables； and that evening the youngest boy of the
house； a horrid little American with no proper appreciation of
royalty； was tying a tin to the blue…blooded one's tail；
doubtless in furtherance of some altruistic project； when Pussy
resented the liberty with a paw that wore five big fish…hooks for
the occasion。 The howl of downtrodden America roused America's
mother。 The deft and womanly blow that she aimed with her book
was miraculously avoided； and Pussy took flight； up…stairs； of
course。 A hunted Rat runs down…stairs； a hunted Dog goes on the
level； a hunted Cat runs up。 She hid in the garret； baffled
discovery； and waited till night came。 Then； gliding down…stairs；
she tried each screen…door in turn； till she found one unlatched；
and escaped into the black August night。 Pitch…black to man's
eyes； it was simply gray to her； and she glided through the
disgusting shrubbery and flower…beds； took a final nip at that
one little bush that had been an attractive spot in the garden；
and boldly took her back track of the spring。
How could she take a back track that she never saw？ There is in
all animals some sense of direction。 It is very low in man and
very high in Horses； but Cats have a large gift； and this
mysterious guide took her westward； not clearly and definitely；
but with a general impulse that was made definite simply because
the road was easy to travel。 In an hour she had covered two miles
and reached the Hudson River。 Her nose had told her many times
that the course was true。 Smell after smell came back； just as a
man after walking a mile in a strange street may not recall a
single feature； but will remember； on seeing it again； 〃Why； yes；
I saw that before。〃 So Kitty's main guide was the sense of
direction； but it was her nose that kept reassuring her； 〃Yes；
now you are rightwe passed this place last spring。〃
At the river was the railroad。 She could not go on the water； she
must go north or south。 This was a case where her sense of
direction was clear； it said； 〃Go south；〃 and Kitty trotted down
the foot…path between the iron rails and the fence。
LIFE III
IX
Cats can go very fast up a tree or over a wall； but when it comes
to the long steady trot that reels off mile after mile； hour
after hour； it is not the cat…hop； but the dog…trot； that
counts。 Although the travelling was good and the path direct； an
hour had gone before two more miles were put between her and the
Hades of roses。 She was tired and a little foot…sore。 She was
thinking of rest when a Dog came running to the fence near by；
and broke out into such a horrible barking close to her ear that
Pussy leaped in terror。 She ran as hard as she could down the
path； at the same time watching to see if the Dog should succeed
in passing the fence。 No； not yet！ but he ran close by it；
growling horribly； while Pussy skipped along on the safe side。
The barking of the Dog grew into a low rumblea louder rumble
and roaringa terrifying thunder。 A light shone。 Kitty glanced
back to see； not the Dog； but a huge Black Thing with a blazing
red eye coming on； yowling and spitting like a yard full of Cats。
She put forth all her powers to run； made such time as she had
never made before； but dared not leap the fence。 She was running
like a Dog； was flying； but all in vain； the monstrous pursuer
overtook her； but missed her in the darkness； and hurried past to
be lost in the night； while Kitty crouched gasping for breath；
half a mile nearer home since that Dog began to bark。
This was her first encounter with the strange monster； strange to
her eyes only； her nose seemed to know him and told her this was
another landmark on the home trail。 But Pussy lost much of her
fear of his kind。 She learned that they were very stupid and
could not find her if she slipped quietly under a fence and lay
still。 Before morning she had encountered several of them； but
escaped unharmed from all。
About sunrise she reached a nice little slum on her home trail；
and was lucky enough to find several unsterilized eatables in an
ash…heap。 She spent the day around a stable where were two Dogs
and a number of small boys； that between them came near ending
her career。 It was so very like home； but she had no idea of
staying there。 She was driven by the old craving； and next
evening set out as before。 She had seen the one…eyed
Thunder…rollers all day going by； and was getting used to them；
so travelled steadily all that night。 The next day was spent in a
barn where she caught a Mouse； and the next night was like the
last； except that a Dog she encountered drove her backward on her
trail for a long way。 Several times she was misled by angling
roads； and wandered far astray； but in time she wandered back
again to her general southward course。 The days were passed in
skulking under barns and hiding from Dogs and small boys； and the
nights in limping along the track； for she was getting foot…sore；
but on she went； mile after mile； southward； ever
southwardDogs； boys； Roarers； hungerDogs； boys； Roarers；
hungeryet on and onward still she went； and her nose from time
to time cheered her by confidently reporting； 〃There surely is a
smell we passed last spring。〃
X
So a week went by； and Pussy； dirty； ribbon…less； foot…sore； and
weary； arrived at the Harlem Bridge。 Though it was enveloped in
delicious smells； she did not like the look of that bridge。 For
half the night she wandered up and down the shore without
discovering any other means of going south； excepting some other
bridges； or anything of interest except that here the men were as
dangerous as the boys。 Somehow she had to come back to it； not
only its smells were familiar； but from time to time； when a
One…eye ran over it； there was that peculiar rumbling roar that
was a sensation in the springtime trip。 The calm of the late
night was abroad when she leaped to the timber stringer and
glided out over the water。 She had got less than a third of the
way across when a thundering One…eye came roaring at her from the
opposite end。 She was much frightened； but knowing their
stupidity and blindness； she dropped to a low side beam and there
crouched in hiding。 Of course the stupid Monster missed her and
passed on； and all would have been well； but it turned back； or
another just like it came suddenly spitting behind her。 Pussy
leaped to the long track and made for the home shore。 She might
have got there had not a third of the Red…eyed Terrors come
screeching at her from that side。 She was running her hardest；
but was caught between two foes。 There was nothing for it but a
desperate leap from the timbers into…she didn't know what。 Down；
down； down…plop； splash； plunge into the deep water； not cold；
for it was August； but oh； so horrible！ She spluttered and
coughed when she came to the top； glanced around to see if the
Monsters were swimming after her； and struck out for shore。 She
had never learned to swim； and yet she swam； for the simple
reason that a Cat's position and actions in swimming are the same
as her position and actions in walking。 She had fallen into a
place she did not like； naturally she tried to walk out； and the
result was that she swam ashore。 Which shore？ The home…love never
fails： the south side was the only shore for her； the one nearest
home。 She scrambled out all dripping wet； up the muddy bank and
through coal…piles and dust…heaps； looking as black； dirty； and
unroyal as it was possible for a Cat to look。
Once the shock was over； the Royal…pedigreed Slummer began to
feel better for the plunge。 A genial glow without from the bath；
a genial sense of triumph within； for had she not outwitted three
of the big Terrors？
Her nose； her memory； and her instinct of direction inclined her
to get on the track again； but the place was infested with those
Thunder…rollers； and prudence led her to turn aside and follow
the river…bank with its musky home…reminders； and thus she was
spared the unspeakable horrors of the tunnel。
She was over three days learning the manifold dangers and
complexities of the East River docks。 Once she got by mistake on
a ferryboat and was carried over to Long Island； but she took an
early boat back。 At length on the third night she reached
familiar ground； the place she had passed the night of her first
escape。 From that her course was sure and rapid。 She knew just
where she was going and how to get there。 She knew even the more
prominent features in the Dog…scape now。 She went faster； felt
happier。 In a little while surely she would be curled up in her
native Orientthe old junk…yard。 Another turn； and the block was
in sight。
Butwhat！ It was gone！ Kitty couldn't believe her eyes； but she
must； for the sun was not yet up。 There where once had stood or
leaned or slouched or straggled the houses of the block； was a
great broken wilderness of stone； lumber； and holes in the
ground。
Kitty walked all around it。 She knew by the bearings and by the
local color of the pavement that she was in her home； that there
had lived the bird…man； and there was the old junk…yard； but all
were gone； completely gone； taking their familiar odors with
them； and Pussy turned sick at heart in the utter hopelessness of
the case。 Her pl