He had been bitten, on the sly, by half the ill-natured curs in the settlement, and had only shown his teeth in return.

He had no enmities--though several enemies--and he had a thousand friends, particularly among the ranks of the weak and the persecuted, whom he always protected and avenged when opportunity offered.

A single instance of this kind will serve to show his character.
One day Dick and Crusoe were sitting on a rock beside the lake--the same identical rock near which, when a pup, the latter had received his first lesson.

They were conversing as usual, for Dick had elicited such a fund of intelligence from the dog's mind, and had injected such wealth of wisdom into it, that he felt convinced it understood every word he said.
"This is capital weather, Crusoe; ain't it, pup ?" Crusoe made a motion with his head which was quite as significant as a nod.
"Ha! my pup, I wish that you and I might go and have a slap at the grizzly bars, and a look at the Rocky Mountains.

Wouldn't it be nuts, pup ?" Crusoe looked dubious.
"What, you don't agree with me! Now tell me, pup, wouldn't ye like to grip a bar ?" Still Crusoe looked dubious, but made a gentle motion with his tail, as though he would have said, "I've seen neither Rocky Mountains nor grizzly bars, and know nothin' about 'em, but I'm open to conviction." "You're a brave pup," rejoined Dick, stroking the dog's huge head affectionately.