The Biggest Dog on the Mountain

We liked hiking together. Today, we were looking for a trail over Wallace Mountain.

”It’s been over an hour,” said Jessc, my nineteen-year-old son. “Do you think the trail still exists?” We had explored several paths but with no luck. We pushed through weeds mid-calf high for us, but neck-high for our rusty-brown dog, Shadow. Once in a while, we would call Shadow back when she was attracted by the pleasant smell of flowers. No longer slim and bouncing with energy, Shadow was the size of a large house cat, and always content to curl up on the couch beside one of us.

Suddenly, we heard what sounded like many dogs barking in the distance, an unusual sound in the wilderness around us. Curious, we climbed the ridge (山脉), only to find what seemed like a dog factory. Small dogs, big dogs, brown dogs, and dogs I can’t even describe poured out. The hounds (猎狗) hit the ground, sniffing the air and turning to face us. Before long, they went down from their side of the mountain. Jesse shot an alarmed glance at me before turning to call in a firm voice, “Shadow, come here, stay.”

I patted my pockets, feeling for the pepper spray (防狼喷雾), so small it would never work against so many animals. I turned, surveying the nearby brush for a potential weapon. With the help of adrenaline (肾上腺素), I broke off two thick branches from a tree and rushed to Jesse’s side, “Here you are!” “OK,” he said, “Dad, they are coming to us.” My-mouth went dry. I glanced over at Jesse, his lips pinched (夹紧) tight.

The pack emerged from the valley, marching straight toward us. The dogs in the lead were now close enough for us to see that most of them were three times larger than Shadow. With deep growls (怒吼声)，they ran straight for us. Jesse swallowed hard and looked at me.

Shadow’s back fur rose.

Surprisingly, the entire mass of dogs turned tail and fled.

“And that’s ‘The Ray of Hope’ for you!” Asta said as she ended her book review. She took a deep bow and was given thundering applause. I, too, gave applause. I was happy for my friend. Well, I was pretending to be happy for her. Deep down inside, I was rather feeling envious of Asta. She was always the one who makes speeches, debates and tells stories to others. Me? No! I had stage fright and was always the shy, quiet one who was never courageous to speak in front of others. I had never managed to do a presentation without stammering(结巴). Every time I saw someone making a speech, I would imagine myself in his or her place, receiving the applause and praise.

I was walking to the canteen with Asta. She, as usual, was looking at the script. She had been chosen to be the presenter for the National Day Celebration. I sighed to myself. Why could I not be like her, always loud and brave? If only there was a way to prove myself...

Just then, I caught a glimpse of a poster on the noticeboard.

“Minute to say it?” I read the poster out loud.

It was a competition where one has to prepare a speech about a particular topic and summarize it on the stage within one minute. This could be my big chance to overcome my stage fright! And the best part was, if I won the competition, I would receive a mini-trophy (小奖杯).

Without thinking twice, I grabbed a form and filled in it. I took a seat in the canteen with Asta and told her what I had done, after which she said that she had also signed up for the competition. Suddenly, regret hit me like a 20-pound hammer. I was competing against Asta who was the best speaker in the school! I was bound to lose! Why was I so ill-fated? I just wanted a chance to prove myself that I could overcome my stage fright.

The big day finally arrived.

Next, it was Asta’s turn.

It was a cold January afternoon. My mom, Savitri, and I sat silently side by side on the Sahyadri Express. As the train pulled out of the Bombay Central Station, we could hardly hide our excitement. We were finally on the way to a two-day holiday to Matheran! Unluckily, we had to wait another train at Neral.

Dusk(黄昏)came as we sat with the cold winter wind in a corner at the Neral station, unsure of what the evening was going to bring. We brought out some biscuits when suddenly a little girl, no more than five or six years old, went past us, crying, ”I want food! I am hungry!”

Mom found the child’s family, seated a few meters away. And the only station-shop had been emptied in a madness. Mom’s kindness made her help the little girl. Smiling, the little girl told us her name was Mehrunisa and accepted a half-eaten biscuit from us. Then in the hours spent at the station, we began chatting with the family.

After several hours, the train finally arrived. We entered alongside, like friends. As the short uphill journey progressed, Mom and I softly discussed our trouble. It seemed impossible that our order at Ragdi Hotel would still be held, considering the probability that guests are unable to get on their trains from Matheran

As the train stopped slowly and we rose to say goodbye to the family, Mehrunisa’s father, Viraaz, said that he could help us find a place to spend the night. After much discussion, we agreed.

The rest of his family headed to the guesthouse for their stay, and Viraaz came with us to look for a hotel. To no one’s surprise, Ragdi Hotel was full of people. The manager, saying sorry, tried his best to offer assistance by placing a few beds in the coal storage room(储煤室)but the darkness and coldness made us hardly stay in it.

A gradual fear started to climb into my mind—what next?

After we arrived, Viraaz’s family worked tirelessly with few supplies to make us feel at home.