Both young and old will enjoy this heartwarming tale of a boy who, at sixteen years of age, returns from the summer pastures higher up in the mountains, where he had been watching and caring for his father's sheep, only to find their home ransacked, the stables burned to the ground, and all the animals, including the dogs, killed. Then he saw the three freshly dug graves it looked like. Their family name, d'Aboux, was scratched on a large boulder. Momo, the wheelwright and blacksmith, was a good friend. He'd know what happened here. As he sat on the ground, contemplating what to do next, he saw the little puppy coming towards him. Margot, a mostly white Pyrenean Mastiff lay dead inside the still smoldering stables. Her pups were scattered about here and there. It was obvious that they'd been brutally murdered, all except for this little black and white one. Ghislain's mind, which was going blank with the shock of it all, suddenly perked up as he called the pup "petit bonhomme", or little fellow, and gathered him into his arms.From there they went to the Basque Coast, to a small seaport called Saint-Jean-de Luz. A ship was being loaded with Gascony wine and woad. The Captain of the merchant vessel took notice of Ghislain and his dog. They could use an extra hand, as his sailors were notoriously lazy when it came to loading and unloading the cargo. And why not bring the boy to Wales with them! Morgan the Innkeeper had promised his daughter, back in Caernarvon, a puppy for her 13th birthday. Surely the boy would trade his dog for a job at the Inn, and a place to live. It would be winter soon.Four years later, and Ghislain was once again sailing with Captain Jones. This time, however, they were not headed to France. Their destination was the New World! They'd only be gone for six months to a year. Branwen, Morgan's daughter, would wait for Ghislain and his dog to return. Oh yes, I forgot to mention that the 13 year old gave Little Fellow a proper name, that of Trahaearn, which in Welsh means "strong as iron" or incredibly strong.No one expected it, when a large band of Kanienkeh (Mohawk) warriors came running out from behind the trees, with their weapons held high, yelling their indiscernible war cries. Ghislain was twenty that day. Captain Jones had just moments before told Ghislain to take his dog and go up the shoreline. They'd be his "eyes and ears" to the north. The real reason was that the hairs on the Captains neck were standing up, and those hairs never lied! He wanted to save the boy from harm, if possible. Only a few of the sailors made it back to the ship which was anchored out in the bay - barely enough men to hoist the sails. This left Ghislain and Trahaearn stranded in a vast and almost unimaginable wilderness. But the boy and his magnificent dog had something that was paramount if they were to survive - their unwavering love and devotion to one another. And nothing would prove to be stronger than that bond... Ghislain had little regard for religion or religious rituals, but on the other hand, he believed that God was looking out for him. It was obvious by the way things had turned out, with all the impossible situations that he and Trahaearn had experienced. The funny thing was that the Indigenous peoples, the Alnobak, the Penobscot, the Pennacook, the Pequawket, the Amaseconti, the Kennebec, the Passamaquoddy, and others, all of them thought Gis-lon and Awasos Alemos (what they called Trahaearn) to be gods, or at least sent by them. At first, Ghislain had tried to correct them, but after a while he saw that it worked to their advantage to let them believe such nonsense. There were just three, Ahteteetee, Olathe, and Kesogowasse, whom he trusted enough to confide in. But what about Branwen, back in Wales? Would he ever see her again? They had plans to get married after he returned with Captain Jones and his crew. Jones, and those who sailed with him, never returned. Woul