Quick! Close the gate!€ she said to her husband. She spoke in the strange gipsy language, which is called Romany. The only other way out of that field is through a break in the hedge. I will rouse the camp, and we will all stop the dogs there and catch them.€

In less that two minutes the whole gipsy encampment was awake. Children cried, dogs barked, horses neighed. It was still so dark that it took Pongo five minutes to find the break in the hedge. And when he found it, he also found the way barred. All the gipsies were there, with sticks and ropes.

Back to the gate, as fast as you can!€ he cried to the pups.

But when they reached the gate it was closed. They were trapped.

Pongo barked loudly, hoping that some gipsy dog might help him. Many gipsy dogs barked in answer, but they had all been shut up in the caravans in case they should fight the Dalmatians. In any case, they barked only in Romany, so they could not understand a word Pongo said.

But someone else did. Suddenly Pongo heard the high neigh of a horse close at hand and, oh, most wonderful, the horse could neigh normally, as well as in Romany. It understood Pongo, and he understood it. Horses are nearly always friendly to Dalmatians perhaps because of those days when Dalmatians were trained to follow carriages. This horse was not old enough to remember such days, but he took an instant liking to Pongo, Missis, and all the pups. If these pleasant creatures wished to come out of the field, nothing could be easier. He strolled up, opened the gate with his long, strong teeth, and swung it back. Out poured the puppies.

Lead them past the caravans as fast as you can!€ Pongo shouted to Missis, and waited to see the last pup out of the field.

What a very large family you and your wife have,€ said the horse. My wife and I have never had more than the one. Well, good luck to you.

He waved aside Pongo’s thanks and then, being a very tidy horse, he carefully closed the gate again. So never did the gipsies all waiting at the break in the hedge know how their prisoners got away.

Helter-skelter along the road went Missis, the puppies, and, finally, Pongo. (The pups who drew the Cadpig’s cart stuck faithfully to their task). The shut-in Romany dogs heard them and shook the caravans in their efforts to get out. Volleys of furious barking came from the little windows.

The caravans bark but the dogs move on,€ remarked Pongo when he felt they were out of danger.

A few minutes later they reached the village where they were to sleep. The Sheepdog’s friend, a handsome Collie, was waiting to welcome them.

No talk until you’re safely hidden,€ he said. It’s almost light.€