Anecdotes About Dogs(Continued)
Inthese days, when so much has been attempted and done, in connection with expeditions to the Arctic regions, the following account by the late Captain Parry, R. N. in the Journal of his second voyage, may be interesting as giving a lively and accurate description of the manner in which Esquimaux Dogs are managed in the sleighing operations in those inclement climes.
"When drawing a sledge," says he, "the dogs have a simple harness of reindeer or seal skin, going round the neck of one bight and another for each of the fore legs, with a single thong leading over the back, and attached to the sledge, as a trace.
"Though they appear, at first sight, to be huddled together without any regard to regularity, there is, in fact, considerable attention paid to their arrangement, particularly in the selection of a dog of peculiar spirit and sagacity, who is allowed by a longer trace, to precede all the rest, as Leader, and to whom, in turning to the right or left, the driver usually addresses himself.
"This choice is made without regard to age or sex,and the rest of the dogs take precedency according to their training or sagacity, the least effective being put nearest the sledge.
"The leader is, usually, from eighteen to twenty feet from the fore part of the sledge and the hindmost dog about half that distance, so that, when ten or twelve are running together several are nearly abreast of each other.
"The driver sits quite low on the front part of the sledge, with his feet overhanging the snow on one side, and having in his hand a whip, of which the handle is plaited a little way down to stiffen it, and give it a spring, on which much of its use depends, and that which composes the lash is chewed by the women to make it flexible in frosty weather.
"The men acquire, from their youth, considerable expertness in the use of this whip. The lash is left to trail along the ground by the side of the sledge, and with it they can inflict a very severe blow upon any one of the dogs at pleasure.
"Though the dogs are kept in training solely and entirely by the fear of the whip, and, indeed without it would soon have their own way, its immediate effect is always detrimental to the draught of the sledge, for not only does the individual that is struck draw back and slacken his pace, but generally turns upon his next neighbour, and this passing on to the next occasions a general divergency, accompanied by the usual yelping and showing of teeth. The dogs then come together again by degrees, and the pace of the sledge is quickened; but evenat the best of times, by this rude mode of draught, (and be it remembered theonly one, in these inclement parts of the world,) the traces of one-third of the dogs form an angle of thirty or forty degrees on each side of the direction in which the sledge is advancing.
"Another great inconvenience attending the Esquimaux method of putting dogs to, besides that of not employing their strength to the best advantage, is the constant entanglement of the traces by the dogs repeatedly doubling under from side to side to avoid the whip, so that, after running a few miles, the traces always require to be taken off and cleared.
"In directing the sledge, the whip plays no very essential part, the driver for this purpose using certain words, as the carters do with us, to make the dogs turn more to the right or left. To these, a good leader attends with admirable precision, especially if his own name be repeated, at the same time looking behind over his shoulder with great earnestness, as if listening to the directions of the driver.
"On a beaten track, or where even a single foot, or sledge mark is visible, or occasionally discernible, there is not the slightest trouble in guiding the dogs; for even in the darkest night, and in the heaviest snow drifts, there is little or no danger of them losing their road, the leader keeping his nose near the ground, and directing the rest with wonderful sagacity.
"Where, however, there is no beaten track, the best driver amongst them, makes a terribly circuitous course, as all the Esquimaux roads plainly show; thesegenerally occupying an extent of six miles, when with a horse and sledge the journey would scarcely have amounted to five!
"On rough ground, as on hummocks of ice, the sledge would be frequently overturned, or altogether stopped, if the driver did not repeatedly get off and by lifting or drawing it on one side, steer clear of those accidents. At all times, indeed, except on a smooth and well made road, he is pretty constantly employed, thus, with his feet, which, together with his never ceasing vociferations and frequent use of the whip, renders the driving of one of these vehicles by no means an easy or a pleasant task.
"When the driver wishes to stop the sledge, he calls out 'Wo, woa,' exactly as our carters do, but the attention paid to this command depends altogether on his ability to enforce it. If the weight is small and the journey homeward, the dogs are not to be thus delayed, the driver is obliged therefore to dig his heels into the snow, to obstruct their progress, and having thus succeeded in stopping them, he stands up with one leg before the foremost cross-piece of the sledge, till by means of gently laying his whip over each dog's head, he has made them all lie down. Even then, he takes care not to quit his position; so that, should the dogs set off, he is thrown upon the sledge instead of being left behind by them.
"With heavy loads, the dogs draw best with one of their own people, especially a woman, walking a little way ahead, and in this case they are sometimes enticed to mend their pace by holding a mitten to the mouthand then making the motion of cutting it with a knife and throwing it on the snow, when the dogs, mistaking it for meat, hasten forward to pick it up. The women also entice them from the huts in a similar manner. The rate at which they travel depends of course on the weight they have to draw and the roads on which the journey is performed.
"When the latter is level and very hard and smooth constituting in other parts of North America what is called 'good sleighing,' six or seven dogs will draw from eight to ten hundredweight at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour, for several hours together, and will easily, under these circumstances, perform a journey of from fifty to sixty miles a day. On untrodden snow, five and twenty, or thirty miles would be a good journey in a day.
"The same number of well-fed dogs with five or six hundredweight behind them, that of the sledge included, are almost unmanageable, and will, on a smooth road, run any way they please at the rate of ten miles an hour. The work performed, however, by a greater number of dogs is, by no means, in proportion to this, owing to the imperfect mode already described of utilising the strength of these sturdy creatures and to the more frequent snarling and fighting occasioned by the increase in numbers of the draught team or teams."
I have no doubt all owners of kennels have noticed the sudden antipathies taken by dogs sometimes to their own comrades and companions. I remember several instances, amongst my dogs; onewas between two remarkably quiet and unassuming Bull Bitches, Louisa and Lucretia, who lived together in a roomy kennel for a long time, but one night there was such a great noise amongst all the dogs that I felt sure there must be something serious going on, so I got up and dressed sufficiently to go down, and found that although the barking and yelling was being done by the Sheep Dogs, Terriers, etc., the "business" lay entirely between the two ladies mentioned, who were simply locked together, and I had a nasty job to get and keep them apart, as it really wants two persons to deal with two determined "boxers," but at last, I got one outside, and the other inside the loose box, and then managed all right.
Another case I had was the two well-known champions, Rob Roy and Laird, two of the best Dandies going at the time they were about. Neither of them had any idea what fear was, but each hated the other with the most deadly hatred, and even to hear the bark of the one, would set the other screaming to get at him, and yet they were both docile with people, and mostly with other dogs, but Laird had a particular dislike to any dog, running in front of a vehicle and barking at the horse, and this aversion was the cause of his sudden death. Cedar Lodge, Downend, Glo., where I then lived, was the corner of one of four roads, with a large lawn on the two front sides of it, and it was Laird's delight to sit on the top of a low wall, there, and watch the passers by; one morning, early, he was thus engaged, when a crank axle cart came rumblingalong, accompanied by a good-sized dog, barking in front of the horse; this was too much for Laird, who sprang from the wall into the road and pinned the dog, and before the man could pull up his horse, the wheels of the cart had gone over the fighting dogs in the road with fatal effects on one of the combatants, as Laird, without a whimper, though he must have been seriously injured, walked slowly into the house, lay down in his own box, and died then and there!
Another case of sudden antipathy I remember was between two Skye Bitches of mine, Laura and Lucy (winners of some fifty prizes at all the best shows, while they were about), I bought, on the dispersal of Mrs. Jacobson's kennel, after her lamented death. She was a genuine fancier, and sportswoman, and all her dogs were sure to be "workers," and thoroughly game. One of them was drop-eared, and the other prick-eared, and for a long time they were the best of friends, and not only lived together in one kennel, but used to go to shows often considerable distances, such as Edinburgh, Darlington, and other places in a long low wicker basket, which just suited them without any partition or division in it. But one day they had some difference of opinion, the cause of which I do not know, but there were "ructions," and they never could be trusted together again without the certainty of "war to the knife."
James Hogg, well known as the Ettrick shepherd, declares in his "Shepherd's Calendar" that dogs know what is said on subjects in which they are interested.A farmer had a dog that for three or four years in the latter part of his life, met him at the foot of his farm, about a mile and a half from his house, on his way home. If he was away half a day, a week, or a fortnight, it was all the same, she met him at that spot, there was never an instance known of her going to meet him, on a wrong day, and she could only know when he was coming back, by hearing it mentioned in the family.
I have had many dogs who knew Sunday perfectly well, whether by hearing the church bells, or other indications of the day, I do not know, but although wild to go if they saw me going out at any other time, on that day, they would take no notice nor make any attempt to follow me.
In the same way I have had many thin-coated dogs such as Bull and English Terriers, Smooth Toys and Pugs, who would not go out willingly in wet weather, but Sheep Dogs, Dalmatians, Deerhounds, Dandies, Scottish, Skyes and Wirehaired Fox Terriers, take no notice of it, beyond occasionally shaking themselves, to get rid of some of the water.
Another of Hogg's tales is as follows: "One of my Sheep dogs, named Hector, was very keen in picking up what was said before him." One day Hogg said to his mother, "I am going to Bowerhope to-morrow for a fortnight, but I will not take Hector with me, for he is constantly quarrelling with the rest of the dogs." Hector was present and must have overheard the conversation, as next morning he was missing, and when Hogg reached Bowerhope, Hectorwas sitting on a hillock, waiting his arrival, he had swum across a flooded river to reach the spot.
Retrievers have the reputation, either rightly or wrongly, of being quarrelsome with other dogs, and so are more often kept as guards or for sporting work, than as companions or pets, but the following are recorded of their sagacity. The inmates of a house in High street in a well-known city were aroused by the loud barking of a dog on the premises. He was a large Black Retriever, Jack, much attached to his master and family. The cause of alarm was soon seen to be a fire raging furiously next door, the smoke from which had aroused the dog. In a short time the house was emptied, all the inmates escaping before it caught fire, which appeared inevitable. Jack was often used to be left in charge of the house when the family were temporarily absent, and although not tied up, no persuasion or even coaxing would induce him to desert his post, so much so that it was four hours after he had given the first alarm of fire, that he allowed one of the family to persuade him to leave the building, which was then almost "gutted." In a marvellous manner, he had escaped injury from the fire, or falling walls, rafters, etc., but the shock to the system from the inhalation of smoke, etc., was so severe, that it caused inflammation of the lungs, and he died the next day, after suffering with coughing, etc., really a martyr to what he looked upon as his duty, and though occasionallytaking a little water, refusing all food.
Anecdotes About Dogs(Continued)
Anotherinstance of sagacity occurred at Bristol, when a nursemaid wheeling a perambulator with a baby in it, down Spring Hill, which those of my readers who know the locality, will remember, is one of the steepest in that hilly part of the country, was seized with a fit, and loosened her hold. In an instant the little vehicle, with its living occupant, was darting down towards a flight of steps in the hill and apparently to certain destruction. Just before its arrival at the steps, the leathern apron of the perambulator was seized by a Retriever dog, who happened to witness the occurrence, and saw the danger of it, the vehicle was stopped and the child saved from an untimely death.
The natural love of fun and inclination for being taught almost anything of the Irish Water Spaniel is well known, so that I think the following account by Mr. Lindhoe, R.E., at one time a keen fancier and exhibitor, of his Rake and Blaeney, may be interesting to my readers.
He writes: "Rake is a very clever dog and can be taught almost any trick. He is very tender-mouthed and can dive and bring up an egg, unbroken,from a depth of twelve feet or more. It is very amusing also to see him take sixpence out of a bucket of water, as he sometimes has his head under nearly two minutes before picking it up. I taught him a very clever trick which used to cause much amusement at the shows. Whenever he was disturbed by any one poking at him with a stick to make him rouse up and show himself, he would rise gently, put his fore paws on the shoulders of the disturber of his rest, and before it was guessed what idea he had in view, seize and take off the man's hat and deposit it in the pan of water, or on the straw in his pen. Blaeney also is wonderfully clever, and a splendid hand at sport on land or in water. After a game of croquet is finished, she invariably brings in the hoops, mallets, balls, etc., and places them in their proper box in the hall. Once when I was engaged in separating four large Mastiffs who were fighting, she came to my rescue, and considering the best way of rendering assistance, seized the most stubborn of the combatants by the tail and held on till the fight was stopped. She would retrieve very long distances and often surprised people by seizing some stick or other article, which had been put down on purpose for her to fetch, and they had unknowingly picked up. I have frequently known both these dogs jump into the water from a distance of nearly thirty feet."
I remember, on a recent occasion, when I had promised to judge at one of our largest London shows, having the impression the show opened on the Tuesday, I went up on the Monday, and did not discover my mistake until I got to the hotel I usually patronised for anyshow in that part of the metropolis, but as I have always any amount of places and people to see, I own I did not trouble about the matter, and had nearly forgotten it until at the show I met a gentleman also hailing from the same part of England and a well-known light in the Beagle world, who said: "I did an unusual thing this time, came up a day too soon, and I shall get a pretty 'roasting' over it." I replied: "I also did the same for the first time, in a long experience of Dog shows, but do not expect any 'roasting.'" He said, "Oh, but my wife will know it, if no one else does, and she will never forget it." I answered, "Neither my wife, nor any one else, will know it, from me, as I don't believe (any more than the late Mr. Sam Weller) in telling matters against myself." But as I see the gentleman referred to has followed the example of the late Mr. Silas Wegg (in Our Mutual Friend) and "dropped into poetry," in the pages of a well known fancier's paper, it may amuse some of our mutual friends if I quote the lines here:
TOO PREVIOUS PUNCTUALITY.Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.To visit Cruft, his ShowAnd scorning both the wind, and rain,Were early, "on the go."They both hail from the Sunny West,And, both, their locks, are grey,But spite of this, may I be blessed,They, both, mistook the day!The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,But not, a Judge, of days,The other, but, a Judge of Game,In all its gamey ways.So eager were they for the fray,To be in time, for Sport,They both arrived, upon the day,The day, before, they ought!
TOO PREVIOUS PUNCTUALITY.Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.To visit Cruft, his ShowAnd scorning both the wind, and rain,Were early, "on the go."They both hail from the Sunny West,And, both, their locks, are grey,But spite of this, may I be blessed,They, both, mistook the day!The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,But not, a Judge, of days,The other, but, a Judge of Game,In all its gamey ways.So eager were they for the fray,To be in time, for Sport,They both arrived, upon the day,The day, before, they ought!
TOO PREVIOUS PUNCTUALITY.Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.To visit Cruft, his ShowAnd scorning both the wind, and rain,Were early, "on the go."They both hail from the Sunny West,And, both, their locks, are grey,But spite of this, may I be blessed,They, both, mistook the day!The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,But not, a Judge, of days,The other, but, a Judge of Game,In all its gamey ways.So eager were they for the fray,To be in time, for Sport,They both arrived, upon the day,The day, before, they ought!
TOO PREVIOUS PUNCTUALITY.
Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.To visit Cruft, his ShowAnd scorning both the wind, and rain,Were early, "on the go."
Two L's went up, a Lordly Lane.
To visit Cruft, his Show
And scorning both the wind, and rain,
Were early, "on the go."
They both hail from the Sunny West,And, both, their locks, are grey,But spite of this, may I be blessed,They, both, mistook the day!
They both hail from the Sunny West,
And, both, their locks, are grey,
But spite of this, may I be blessed,
They, both, mistook the day!
The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,But not, a Judge, of days,The other, but, a Judge of Game,In all its gamey ways.
The one, a Judge, of well-known fame,
But not, a Judge, of days,
The other, but, a Judge of Game,
In all its gamey ways.
So eager were they for the fray,To be in time, for Sport,They both arrived, upon the day,The day, before, they ought!
So eager were they for the fray,
To be in time, for Sport,
They both arrived, upon the day,
The day, before, they ought!
Many of the older exhibitors will remember the late Mr. I. H. Murchison, F. R. G. S., whose large and successful kennel of St. Bernards, Dandies, and Fox Terriers, was for so many years in the front rank at all the leading shows? As I was much mixed up in the two last named varieties, I used constantly to be in his company, and that of his son, also a keen and capable fancier. I remember on one occasion meeting him at a show, I forget where it was, now, I think in the London district, but amongst the dogs he had there was a young and very promising Fox Terrier, called "Cracknel," with which he had carried all before him, and he showed me a letter he had received from a gentleman then, as now, in the front rank of Fox Terrier breeders, and exhibitors, offering him £270 for the dog, and he said, since receipt of the letter, the writer had offered to make it "even money" (£300), at that time, quite a fancy price for a specimen of that breed. He said, "What would you advise me to do about it?" I said, "Why take it, without hesitation, it is a tempting price, the life of all dogs is uncertain, and show dogs, especially, and it will do your kennel more good to have sold a dog from it, at such a figure, than anything you can gain, in any other way." However, he refused the offer, and Cracknel not long afterwards rushed into a hayfield after a rabbit, or rat, and so cut himselfwith a scythe hidden in the long grass that he had to be sewn up and was long in the veterinary surgeon's care and was never in the front rank again!
I have known many such cases of good offers being refused to the prejudice of the dog's owners. I remember a well-known lady exhibitor coming up to me at a show with a telegram she had just received from America, offering her £150 for a prize winning pug she had, and asking my advice. I strongly advised her to take it, as it was far more than the market value of the dog, but, in the end, she sent back a refusal. Other dogs came forward, and put her dog into the rear rank, and she afterwards sold it for, I think, about £20.
Mr. Edwin Nichols, of whom I have spoken in relation to several large breeds, was one of the first men to get large prices for his dogs, as it must be quite twenty years or more since he received so he told me, £900 for two dogs, one of them being the well known Mastiff, "Turk," one of the grandest specimens of his day, and the other a high class Bloodhound.
And to show what a fine judge he was as to the strains to breed, I remember an instance he gave me from his extensive experience. He met a friend one day to whom he had sold a Bloodhound bitch puppy, who said, "Mr. Nichols, I wish you would take back that puppy I had from you, it is always doing mischief in the garden, etc., and I wish to get rid of it." Mr. Nichols said, "I really don't want it, I have a lot of dogs of all ages, and I am more a seller than a buyer atpresent." To make a long story short, he eventually took back the young bitch for £10, afterward mating her to one of his best dogs, and he told me that he sold that litter, which produced two if not three champions, for over one thousand pounds. I say, that a man who could do such a thing, proved himself a consummate judge, and I have not the slightest doubt of the truth of the story, and, when he named the dogs in the litter to me, I knew what grand specimens of the breed theywere.
Anecdotes About Dogs(Continued)
I havementioned the "Warwick Shows" of days gone by, and what charming re-unions they were. I think the incident which follows must have been at the first of them, for although I had known Mr. Nichols by sight and name, I did not think I was known to him. I remember I had reached Warwick in the afternoon, engaged a bed at the Globe Hotel (where they told me mine was a double bedded room, and I stipulated that the other bed should not be occupied without my consent), and went to the show, and meeting with many friends there, it was late when I got back. I then found Mr. Nichols waiting to see who I was, as it seemed the other bed in my room was the only one unoccupied in the town. I had not left my name, and the hotel people's description did not enlighten him, but he said, "Whoever it is, if he knows anything about dogs, or doggy men, he will know me!" and so it proved. We had, as always afterwards whenever we met, a long talk on subjects congenial to us both, and he secured the "last bed of Warwick!"
Amongst the many weaknesses to which I pleadguilty, is a devoted admiration of the works of the late Charles Dickens, some of which came out in their green coloured numbers, while I was a schoolboy, and it was the delight of my brothers and self, to sit and listen to them being read out to us by our dear mother, who had a gift in that direction. I hope my readers will pardon my giving here, a very short doggy story, from Pickwick Papers, in the pithy, disjointed sentences of "Mr. Alfred Jingle," as I wish to give something, however slight, about nearly every breed, and the anecdotes about Pointers are not very numerous. "Ah! you should keep dogs, fine animals, sagacious creatures. Dog of my own once, Pointer, surprising instinct, out shooting one day, entering enclosure, whistled, dog stopped, whistled again, Ponto! no go; stock still, called him, 'Ponto, Ponto,' no go, stock still, wouldn't move, dog transfixed, staring at a board, looked up, saw an inscription, 'Gamekeeper has orders to shoot all dogs found in this enclosure,' wouldn't pass it, wonderful dog, valuable dog that, very. 'Singular circumstance that,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'Will you allow me to make a note of it?' 'Certainly, sir, certainly, hundred more anecdotes of the same animal.'"
At the risk of its being considered "a chestnut," I will here recount the story of the dogs of Oldacre, so well told by the late William Howitt, in his "Boys' Country Book" (one of the prime favourites of my boyhood). "This story brings to my recollection, those two noble dogs at Oldacre, two grand Setters that Squire Mills used always to have at his heels,whether it was shooting season or not, just one the picture of the other, as like as pin to pin or pear to pear!
Well, Squire Mills had an estate in Oxfordshire, a hundred miles off at least; and there he used to go twice a year to receive his rents, and he never went, while he had those dogs, without taking one of them with him. When the dog was tired he let him go up into his chaise and ride, and when he was tired of riding, the dog leaped out and jogged along again till he was tired again.
Squire Mills always stopped at the Mitre Inn at Oxford, and it so happened, on one occasion, that as his Setter followed him up the stable yard, a great mastiff, which was chained to a kennel, suddenly rushed out, seized on the Setter, and before he could be beaten off, had very severely worried him. Squire Mills was very angry, and the innkeeper made many apologies, but that did not cure the dog's wounds, and the Squire, who said he would rather have given five pounds than the dog had been so used, set off homeward in no very good humour.
The dog, which seemed very much hurt, lay whining and appearing very uneasy, in the bottom of the chaise, all the way home, and when they got there the keeper was ordered to pay every attention to him, and do all that he could for him. But the dog lay in his kennel for more than a week, and seemed in a very poor way, indeed. He would not eat, and the keeper was very doubtful what would be the upshot of it, when, one morning he was very much surprised to find, both heand his fellow dog missing.
All inquiries were made, but nothing could be heard of them and it was concluded they were stolen. The squire immediately offered five and twenty guineas for the discovery of the thief; but no thief was heard of, or the dogs either, till a week afterwards, when they again entered the yard, but two such poor jaded, worn-down creatures as never were seen.
They were, apparently, starved to the very point of death, covered with dust, and in fact, in such a condition that notwithstanding all that could be done, they both died in the course of a few days. On examining them after death, they appeared to have been shot at, various shot-corns being found in their skins.
Nothing, however, came to light about it; and on the next rent day the Squire made his journey into Oxfordshire without either of his favourite dogs.
As he passed the kennel of the Mastiff in the Inn Yard, at Oxford, he could not help looking, with resentment, towards it, when to his surprise, instead of the Mastiff, which had been there many years, he saw quite another dog. "And so you have parted with that savage brute of a Mastiff that worried my setter the last time I was here," he said to the Ostler. "Ay," replied the Ostler, "there's a curious thing about that, sir, the dog was worried, dead on the spot, at the door of his own kennel, and if I am not mistaken, your setter helped to do it too." "My setter," said the Squire, "what do you mean?" "I mean, sir," said the man, "that about a week or so after youwas here last, when your dog got so towsled by old Sampson, the Mastiff, we heard all of a sudden a terrible noise of dogs fighting in the yard, and on running out, saw two great dogs fiercely at work with old Sampson. They had got him down, and seemed tearing him into very atoms. Our master made no more to do, but in he ran, snatched down the gun, and fired at the dogs, but it was too late, they were just going over the yard wall together, and I dare say, got off without the peppering master meant for them. But there, however, was old Sampson, as dead as the stones he lay upon!" "And you thought," said the Squire, "that one of the dogs resembled my setter?" "Nay," said the Ostler, "both of them. One was the very picture of the other, and if they were not your setters, they were no dogs at all!" "It is very wonderful," said the Squire, "but I have not a doubt but that you are quite right in your belief, and this accounts for what, till this moment, has very much puzzled me. My dog was so resentful of the injury and insult that he received from your Mastiff, that he without doubt communicated his grievances to his brother dog, and prevailed on him to set out on a pilgrimage of revenge. The dogs disappeared for a week or more together, they came back wounded, and in that miserable plight, that they never recovered it. The dogs, let me tell you, are both dead, and I would not have taken a hundred pounds for them." The Ostler and all the people about the inn were wonderfully surprised at the story, and a wonderfulcircumstance it was, to be sure. My grandfather, who told the story, added, "It is just as true as you sit there, I had it word for word, nay, I have had it, word for word, twenty times, from Squire Mills himself."
Of course in a long career of dog showing and judging I have come into contact with all classes of exhibitors, and I am bound to say, as a general rule, have met with the greatest courtesy and had many a kind turn done me at different times, nor was I ever, but once, the subject of any of the practical jokes which used to be, more than they are now, so very frequent, and sometimes very rough, and unpleasant in their nature.
The one exception was when I was stopping at Sydenham, on the occasion of a Crystal Palace show, and when I rose in the morning to go up and see my dogs before breakfast, my boots could nowhere be found, but as I knew there was a very lively team stopping at the same hotel, I felt certain it was their doing, and resolved to checkmate them by going to see the dogs all the same and saying nothing about it, so as I always carried in my bag a pair of Indian leather moccasins, I put them on, and went over to the Palace, where I presently met one of the squad I suspected of "lifting my boots," he said, "What funny shoes you have on, Mr. Lane." I said, "Yes, they are a little out of the common, but, the fact is, some of the jokers at my hotel, have taken a fancy to my boots and probably supposed I should be kept a prisoner in the hotel all day, and so I put on these," he said, "You don't mean to say,yourbootswere taken. They've taken the wrong man's; no one had the slightest idea of playing any prank on you," and when I returned, I found my boots in my room.
I came across, in an old French work, the following curious, if true, method of fishing, in which the services of a Poodle, or Terrier were called into action. The enthusiastic sportsman who fears neither storms nor sunstroke (coup de soleil) makes his appearance at the Riverside without either fishing rod, lines, worms, flies or bait, of any description, but having under his left arm a double-barrelled gun, in his right hand, a large cabbage and following at his heels a clever Poodle or Terrier dog. The fisherman, or huntsman, I scarcely know which to call him, now duly reconnoitres the river, fixes upon some tree, the large and lower branches of which hang out over the water, ascends with his gun and cabbage, and having taken up his position upon one of the large projecting branches, closely examines the surface of the stream beneath him.
He has, usually, not been long on his perch, before he perceives a stately pike, or other member of the finny tribe, paddling up the river, he instantly breaks a leaf off the cabbage, and when the fish has approached sufficiently near, throws it into the water, the frightened fish immediately disappears, but shortly after rises, and grateful to the kind and unknown friend who has provided this admirable parasol, swims towards it, and after pushing it about for a while with his nose, finally places himself comfortably under its protecting and congenial shade.
The sportsman in the tree, watching the animatedmovements of the cabbage leaf, immediately fires, when the dog, whose sagacity is quite equal to that of his master, plunges into the water, and if the fish is either dead or severely wounded, seldom fails to bring the scaly morsel to land; thus as long as the heavens are bright and blue, the water keeps warm on the surface and the larger fish prefer to swim in the sun, the sport continues so long as the climbing and staying powers of the sportsman hold out. Sometimes the dog and fish have a very sharp struggle, and then the fun is great indeed unless, by chance, the sportsman should unfortunately miss his footing in the tree, in the midst of his amusement and drop head foremost into the water with his double-barrelled gun and what is left of his cabbage.
I think it may be interesting here to quote the eulogistic terms in which Mr. Burchell, the well-known African traveller, wrote of his dogs, as he had a considerable experience of the breed in the course of his long and perilous journeys in that (at the time he was there) almost unknown country.
"Our pack of dogs," says he, "consisted of five and twenty, of various sorts and sizes. This great variety, though not altogether intentional, as I was obliged to take any that could be procured and were at all likely to answer my purposes, was often of the greater service to me, as I observed, some gave notice of danger, or their suspicions of it, in one way, and others in quite a different manner. Some were more disposed to keep watch against men, others against wild beasts of prey, and others for animals and birds of sport; somediscovered an enemy by their quickness of hearing, others by that of scent; some were useful for speed in pursuing game, some for their vigilance and barking, and others for their courage in holding ferocious animals at bay. So large a pack indeed was not maintained without adding greatly to our care and trouble, in supplying them with meat and water, for it was sometimes difficult to procure for them enough of the latter; but, their services were invaluable, often contributing to our safety, and always to our ease, by their constant vigilance, as we felt confident that no danger could approach us at night without its being announced by their barking.
"No circumstances could render the value and fidelity of these animals so conspicuous and sensible as a journey through regions which abounding in wild beasts of almost every class, gave us continual opportunities of witnessing the strong contrast between the ferocious beasts of prey, many of which fly at the approach of man and these kind, but not always duly appreciated, companions of the human race. Many times when we have been travelling over plains where the wild creatures of all kinds have fled directly we appeared in sight, have I turned my eyes towards my dogs, in admiration of their devotion and attachment and have felt a grateful affection towards them for preferring our society to the wild liberty of other quadrupeds.
"Often in the middle of the night when all my people have been fast asleep round the fire, have I stood to contemplate these faithful animals lying bytheir side, and have learned to esteem them for their social inclination to mankind. When wandering over pathless deserts, oppressed with vexation and distress at the conduct of my own men I have turned to them, as my only friends and felt how much inferior to them was man when actuated only by selfish views.
"The familiarity which exists between these animals and our own race, is so common to almost every country of the globe, that any remark upon it must seem superfluous, but I cannot avoid believing that it is the universality of the fact which prevents the greater part of mankind from duly reflecting on the subject. While almost every other quadruped fears man as its most formidable enemy, here is one which regards him as a friend.
"We must not mistake the nature of the case, it is not because we train him to our use and have made choice of him in preference to other animals, but because this particular species feels a natural desire to be useful to man and from spontaneous impulse attaches itself to him. Were it not so we should see in various countries an equal familiarity with various other quadrupeds according to the habits, tastes, or caprices of different nations. But, everywhere, it is the dog only takes delight in associating with us, in sharing our abodes, and is even jealous that our attention should be bestowed on him alone, it is he who knows us personally, watches for us, and warns us of danger.
"It is impossible for the naturalist, when taking a survey of the whole animal creation not to feel a conviction that this friendship between two creatures so differentfrom each other, must be the result of the laws of nature; nor can the humane and feeling mind avoid the belief that kindness to those animals, from which he derives continued and essential assistance is part of his moral duty." These words of such an experienced naturalist as Mr. Burchell, are as true to-day as when they were written by him more than fifty years ago, but I am bound to say I think dogs are more valuable, and more thought of now, than ever they were since the world began.
Mr. Bell tells a short story of the intelligence displayed by a Bloodhound belonging to a friend of his, a Mr. Boyle. He says, "To make trial whether a young hound was well instructed, Mr. Boyle desired one of his servants to walk to a town four miles off, and then to a market town three miles from thence. The dog, without seeing the man he was to pursue, followed him by the scent to the above mentioned places, notwithstanding the multitude of market people that went along the same road and of travellers that had occasion to come, and when the Bloodhound came to the market town he passed through the streets, without taking notice of any of the people there, and ceased not till he had gone to the house, where the man he sought rested himself and where he found him in an upper room to the wonder of those who had accompanied him in this pursuit." In the face of the Bloodhound trials last year, and again this spring, in which my friend Mr. Brough has been so much interested, I thought some of my readers might like to see this short account of the doings of a young hound, morethan half a century ago.
To illustrate the occasional trials of exhibitors, I recollect starting off early with a team of dogs for one of the first general shows held at Oxford, I think all my dogs were in boxes or baskets but one, a tricolour Collie, whose name I forget, and he was on the chain, and put by the railway people into one of those vile receptacles they call dog boxes, narrow, dark, low and often dirty. On arrival at Didcot (which I had before connected in my mind with Banbury cakes, and was quite surprised to find a "one-eyed" sort of straggling village of contemptible size,) a porter opened one end of the dog den and called the Collie, he, however, showed no intention of responding to the call, and retreated to the other end of the den and growled at the porter, and one of the other porters went around to the further side of the coach and opened the other door of the den, and the dog, taking advantage of this chance of freedom, bolted out, crossed the line, went through a hedge and found himself at once in the open country. I had taken no part in the affair, and declined all responsibility, but told the officials I should sue the company for the value of the dog, lost through their carelessness. They begged me to accompany some of their men in search of the dog, as he might be easier caught if he saw someone he knew amongst those after him.
Soon after it began to rain, and from soon after eleven a. m. till after six p. m. we tramped the country in search of the wandering dog, whom we afterwards saw in the distance, but in that district the fields arevery large, and often as we laboriously got into a field through a hedge or over hurdles, etc., we had the mortification of seeing the dog disappear through or over the hedge on the opposite side, and very wearisome work it was.
At length I decided to go on to Oxford, with the rest of my dogs, and left the matter of the lost dog with the railway company, who, I was informed, offered a reward for his recovery, and about a month afterwards I had a letter asking me to call at one of their stations where they thought a dog lately found answered the description of mine. This turned out to be correct and I took home the dog, making a small claim for expenses I had been put to in the matter. The dog was not in bad condition, and still wore the collar and chain on him when lost, but it is strange how that dog managed to live for a month in such a sparsely inhabited district as that round about Didcot, at any rate at that time, which isabout fifteen years ago.
Anecdotes About Dogs(Continued)
I havebeen asked to reproduce a humourous "skit," which appeared in "The Daily Mail" 9th of July, 1897, from the pen of a well-known contributor to that paper. It was headed "A Ladies' Dog Show," and ran as follows: "Seven gentle ladies were yesterday to be observed walking gravely in a circle in Regents Park. They each led a Black Pug by a chain. They walked round and round a ruddy old gentleman with keen blue eyes, a shepherd's smock, and a slouched straw hat. Three partridge feathers stuck out jauntily from the side of the hat. The ladies cast appealing looks at the shepherd, who stared hard at the insignificant little wretches of dogs, one of whom barked all the while, but he did not heed it. The march became quicker; the ladies looked more appealing than ever. A crowd gathered around and observed the strange proceedings with wonder. What was it? they asked. A new system of Pantheistic worship? or a side show from a menagerie? The shepherd put up his hand and the ladies stopped, dead. He threw down his glittering pencil to attract the notice of one of the glossy little Pugs. The Pug snapped. He caught it by the head, and staredhard in its ridiculous little face. The dog chastened by the keen blue eyes, ceased to yelp. The proud proprietor at the other end of the chain, looked as anxious as a criminal in the dock. The other ladies made the most of this moment of respite. They patted their dogs and kissed them, and told them to be good little duckies of doggies, and mamma would be so pleased! One tempted her charge with a biscuit, another with half a crown. The coin was held up above the dog's nose. Doggie jumped, and scrambled and yelped just like any of its human acquaintances. The shepherd looked at each dog in turn, and wrote something in a book, and then seven ladies and seven dogs left the ring. One lady looked pleased, another fairly satisfied and the rest as if somebody had blundered. The Pugs were all indifferent. But the secret was out, there were no mysterious rites of an Esoteric creed. It was a dog show, that of the 'Ladies' Kennel Association.' They have survived their internecine troubles, and have more members than they had before that dramatic split at the Holborn restaurant and boast of more entries at this show than ever they had before. Between seven hundred and eight hundred dogs are staged. At a Ladies' Show it is to be expected that some of the conventionalities will be overthrown. There are, for instance, no men prowling about, with cloth caps, buckskin leggings, and wisps of straw, telling you that their Terrier killed fifty rats in thirty seconds or that 'the Brindled Bull was own sister to the best dawg that was ever bred.' The exhibitors are ladies, elegantly dressed, who sit and listen to the band with their Pugs and Spaniels,on their knees. It is the same with the dogs, there are no sporting dogs, to speak of, though the number is increasing year by year and not half a score of Bull Dogs. Such as there are, a little aristocracy of bone and jowl lie at rest in a distant corner of the tent not deigning to notice the Poodles around. Near them are a few Airedale Terriers. One of them, which would be in its element in a rattling street fight, stretched to the top of its pen, looked over at the 'curled darlings' on the other side, deliberately yawned and turned over again to sleep. There is a whole tent full of Toy Spaniels and other exquisites in upholstered pens. They have ribbons round their necks, and bells and go about two to the pound. The Poodles are curled and shaven and shorn, and decked out with top-knots of coloured ribbons. One which lay asleep was described as a 'Rag and a Bone, and a Hank of Worsted,' Two Poodle puppies, not yet shorn, looked refreshingly unkempt by the side of these ultra-respectable Uncles and Aunts. A litter of Dachshunds resembled lion cubs asleep. The foreign class which is both strong and varied, provided an amusing contrast. In one pen was a huge shaggy 'Balu,' in the next a shivering little 'Mousie Chihuahua,' whatever that may be! 'Balu' could have taken 'Mousie' among his hors d'œuvres before dinner. Chows with big heads and wee twinkling eyes. Borzois trying to twist their legs into geometrical figures; an Esquimo asleep; a vicious Dingo in a cage. St. Bernards which made the tent quiver, when they barked and Bloodhounds sleeping serenely, there being no murderers about, these were the Giants of the show.If not as numerous, certainly they were a more weighty section than the Toy Spaniels. The Princess of Wales was among the exhibitors. If anyone wants to see a good collection of 'Japs' and 'Poms' and 'Skyes' and 'Dachs' and 'Charlies,' so the ladies tenderly call them, at Regents Park, he will find them."
The following related by the late Hon. Grantley Berkeley, strongly illustrative of the sagacity and thinking powers of dogs, may be interesting to some of my readers: "I had a dog called 'Wolf,' at Teffont Mane House, in Wiltshire, and when I fed my tame pheasants and partridges I always took him with me. This dog had seen my caution when I approached the birds and always obeyed my signal to lie down by the gun till I had done feeding them. When the game began to get to an age to stray, a considerable number used to come upon the lawn in front of the windows.
"One afternoon the lawn being, to all appearances, clear of birds, I sent Wolf to hunt a rabbit out of a circular flower bed, for me to shoot. The dog obeyed the sign, but no sooner had he entered the laurels, than he made a sort of snap with his jaws, a thing he always did when he was not pleased, and returned to my heels with rather a sheepish look. The sign to hunt having been repeated the same thing occurred and on his returning to me with a peculiar expression in his face, I went to the laurels to ascertain what hindered his obedience.
"To my great pleasure I found about a dozen young pheasants, into whose presence he was fearful of intruding,so I lay down on the lawn close to the pheasants, and letting him see how pleased I was, caressed him for full five minutes, and then when I retired, did so in a most marked and stealthy manner, which he, close at my heels, immediately adopted. Now suppose some thoughtless or inconsiderate master with such a dog as this had upon his refusal to hunt, beaten or kicked him for disobedience, which would really have deserved the punishment, the sensible dog, or the silly man?
"On taking up my residence at Beacon Lodge, and, for years after, Wolf was still in or out of the house, my constant companion and closely observant of all I did or desired. When first the wild white rabbits began to appear at Beacon, I never shot them, but very frequently killed the brown ones by their side. In hunting any outlying place, if by chance there was a white rabbit, I used to stop Wolf from hunting it up to my gun, and by observation the dog convinced himself that a rabbit so coloured was on no account to be molested. When the whites had become more common, one evening I went out to kill some rabbits for the table, or to give away, and seeing a very fine young white one, I shot it. The rabbit lay dead on the contrary side of a fence, and Wolf had not seen it killed, but at a sign from me, flew over to pick up whatever might be there. The rabbit lay kicking with its hinder legs, and Wolf seeing the motion in the grass, dashed up, but instantly made the snap with his jaws, dropped his stern and came back with a sheepish look, as if to tell me I had done wrong. I praised and made much of him,and taking him with me up to the rabbit encouraged him to pick it up and to give it to me, and ever after he would pick up any coloured rabbit that might be killed.
"Wolf's dinner hour was at my dessert time, the last thing the retiring servants had to do was to place his plate upon the hearthrug. Occasionally they neglected to do this, and then he had seen me ring the bell, to rectify the omission. For some years before his death, when his dinner was due, and had not been brought in, after looking at me with a wistful expression of countenance, he would go up and kiss the bell handle, and then come to me, look up in my face, and push my arm with his nose. Of course, up came his dinner, with a ring from the bell, denoting double quick time."
More than forty years since, there was a London street dog which took a great fancy to following the fire engines. Whenever there was a fire there would the dog be seen running in and out among the throng apparently making himself as busy as possible. This strange conduct of the animal, of course, attracted the attention of the firemen, and after a time they used to feed and take notice of him, occasionally giving him a ride on the engine. At last, so well was the dog known that he came to be called the Fireman's Dog. He owned no master, but stopped a day or two with any of the firemen he took a fancy to. He was always on the alert, directly the fire alarm was given, and used frequently to run by the side of the horses for miles together. At last the dog on one of the journeys, was run over and killed, when the firemen had his body stuffed and set up in aglass case in the principal office of the Metropolitan fire brigade, Watling street, London. There it remained for some years, and numbers of people called to see him in his glass case.
In 1853 the Superintendent of the Fire Station, Chandos street, Covent Garden, was for some neglect of duty degraded to the rank of an ordinary fireman. This disgrace so preyed on the poor fellow's mind, that one winter's night he threw himself over Waterloo Bridge and was drowned. He left a widow and children totally unprovided for, and in order to procure a sum for their relief, the glass case containing the stuffed figure of the Fireman's Dog was disposed of by way of lottery. A raffle took place at a tavern in Chandos street, when upwards of a hundred pounds was realised. The dog was won by the tavern-keeper, and in his parlour it may still be seen. Thus you see that long after death the dog has been found useful to his masters in time of need.
The following account of a dog, for many years known as "The Brighton Coach Dog," is cut from an old newspaper of the time. "For a long period a dog invariably accompanied the only coach which in 1851 ran between London and Brighton. On the 24th June, in that year, he was placed on the back of the coach to prevent his barking at the horses, when he jumped off at Henfield and fell between the wheels, one of which, passing over his back, killed him. The animal belonged to an ostler at the Newcastle Place stables, Edgeware Road, London; he went to the yard when a puppy and the man took care of him.
"Being brought up amongst horses, he was never happy unless with them at home, or travelling about. His chief delight was to travel up and down with the Brighton coach. He had been known to travel, during the last spring of his life, for eight successive days to and from Brighton, Sundays intervening.
"The distance from London to Brighton by way of Leatherhead, Dorking, Horsham and Henfield, the road which the stage coach traversed is seventy-four miles. It was with great difficulty he could be kept on the coach, always preferring to run by the side of it and it was his being placed on the top of the coach, from feelings of humanity on the part of Clarke, the coachman, which cost him his life.
"On one occasion the guard placed him inside the coach, when there were no passengers, but in a few minutes he was surprised to see him running beside the coach, having jumped clean through the glass window.
"During the early part of the summer he went with a strange coach to Tunbridge Wells, not liking his berth he did not return to London by the same conveyance, but found his way across the country from Tunbridge Wells to Brighton and went up to London with his favourite team.
"He was well known by many on the road from London to Brighton, and in some places on the journey met with hospitable treatment. At the time of his death he was about five years old. Clarke informed us that he would kill a goose on his travels by the roadside, throw it over his back like a fox, and run for miles, and he offered to lay a wager that the dog wouldaccompany the coach between Brighton and London daily for a month, Sundays excepted, and kill a goose by the roadside each day of his travels, provided birds were put within his reach. His skin was preserved, and has been stuffed. The 'Brighton Coach Dog' may be seen in the attitude of life in the bar parlour of a tavern in the Edgeware Road."
I do not think I mentioned, when speaking of my kennels, and dogs, that for many years, an old Great Western Railway coach formed part of them, it was composed of a first-class, second-class, third-class compartments, and a luggage van, as a general rule, we had a pair of dogs, male and female, in each division, and used the luggage van for biscuits.
As some of my readers may like to try the same experiment, I may say that there is no difficulty in the way, there are usually railway coaches of different sizes (I believe, you can also purchase horse boxes and trucks, which often serve the purpose of cow and poultry and cart and trap sheds) for sale at Swindon, where I bought mine for five pounds.
Of course, it was merely the body, without any of the iron under part, but with the windows, doors, seats, ventilators, etc., no cushions or upholstery of any kind, but the only expense I had to incur was to get the village smith to fix some small iron bars on the outside of each window frame, to enable us to open the windows to give plenty of air, without the fear of the inmates getting out. The company delivered free to their nearest station, which in my case was within two miles from my place, and Ithere had a trolly and pair of horses, and the coach run on to it and lashed firmly to the trolly and it was brought without much difficulty as the weight was only about thirty-five hundredweight, although it looked a heavy affair.
There was more time and trouble in fixing it in its place in my yard, than in the journey there. And some years afterwards when I changed my residence, I got the village smith to fix an axle and a couple of low strong wheels at each end of the coach, and one of the neighbouring farmers easily took it along the road to my new dwelling place, with a couple of his cart horses, to the great amusement and delight of the rural population, who insisted that each of the divisions was filled with some of my dogs, which were well known in the district as being frequent prize winners.
The following is related on the authority of an old newspaper called the "Boston Traveller," published in the United States of America: A gentleman stopping at an hotel in Boston, privately hid his pocket handkerchief behind the sofa cushion in the coffee room and left the hotel accompanied by his dog, after walking for some distance, he suddenly stopped and said to his dog, "I have left my handkerchief at the hotel, go back and fetch it for me," giving no particular directions about it. The dog immediately returned at full speed, and entered the room his master had just left. He went directly to the sofa, but the handkerchief was gone. He jumped upon tables and counters, but it was nowhere to be seen. It turned out that afriend of his master's had discovered it and supposing it had been left by mistake, had taken care of it for the owner. But "Tiger" was not to be foiled. He flew about the room, apparently much excited, in quest of the "lost or stolen." Soon, however, he was upon the track, he scented it to the gentleman's coat pocket. What was to be done? The dog had no means of asking for it, by word of mouth, and was not accustomed to picking pockets, and besides the gentleman was ignorant of his business with him. But Tiger's sagacity did not suffer him to remain long in suspense. He seized the skirt containing the prize and furiously tearing it from the coat, hastily made off with it, much to the surprise of the owner. Tiger then overtook his master, and restored the lost property. Both the owner of the dog and the gentleman who had lost the tail of his coat, applauded the dog for his sagacity.
In the southeast window of St. Mary's church, Lambeth, there is the full length figure of a pedlar with his pack, his staff and dog. This is the portrait of the unknown man who gave "Pedlar's Acre" to the parish of Lambeth. The story is worth telling. In the year 1504, a poor pedlar passing over a piece of waste ground near the river sat down to rest on the trunk of a tree. While seated here, he noticed that his dog acted very strangely, busying himself with scratching the earth with his feet and barking, and smelling about, every now and then running up to his master and looking him earnestly in the face and trying to drag him from his seat. The pedlar did not at first pay much attention to the dog, but its repeated barking and runningto and fro compelled him, at last, to see what the animal wanted. Going to where the dog had been scratching he was surprised to find something shining below. Digging on the spot he discovered a large sum of money with part of which he purchased the land originally known as Pedlar's Acre, but now called the Belvidere Road, in Lambeth.
Maitland, the historian of London, (1739 edition, page 791) tells the story as I have given it with the addition that the pedlar left the piece of land to the parish on condition that his portrait and that of his dog should be perpetually preserved in painted glass in one of the windows of the church. I cannot say whether this be true or not, but such is the legend, and there is the painted window with the portrait of the man and dog, as evidence still remaining.
The following story about a Mastiff appeared in the Glasgow Chronicle: Early one Sunday morning some thieves attempted to enter the premises of Messrs. McLeod and Pollock, Argyle street, Glasgow, jewellers, by breaking through the sky-light. The building was one story high and it was comparatively easy to get on to the roof. About two o'clock a. m. Mr. McLeod, who resided in the back of the premises, was awakened by the action of his watch dog. The animal did not bark, but jumped upon the bed and continued scratching with his forepaws until his master rose up. The dog then uttered a low growl and looked towards the roof, as if anxious to draw his master's attention to that particular quarter. Immediately afterwards a small piece of glass fell on the floor, and onMr. McLeod looking up he could see a man furtively moving on the roof; the police were informed and effected an arrest of the intruding burglar, through the warning given by the dog and before he had time toconceal himself or make good his retreat.
Anecdotes About Dogs(Continued)
InMr. St. John's "Highland Sports," there is the following characteristic anecdote of a shepherd's dog: "A shepherd, a neighbour of mine, to prove the quickness of his dog, who was lying before the fire in the farmhouse kitchen where we were talking, one day, said to me in the middle of a conversation about quite a different matter, 'I'm thinking, sir, the cow's got into the potatoes,' though he purposely laid no stress on these words, and said them in a quiet, unconcerned tone of voice, the dog, who appeared to be asleep, immediately jumped up, leaped through the open window and scrambled up the turf roof of the house, from which he could see the potato field. Not seeing her there, he then ran into the farm yard, and finding her there, all right, came back to the house. After a time the shepherd said the same words again, and the dog repeated his look out, but on the false alarm being given a third time, the dog got up and wagging his tail, looked his master full in the face with such a comical expression of inquiry, that we could not refrain from laughing heartily, on which with a slight growlhe laid himself down again to sleep in his accustomed place on the hearth rug, with an offended air, as if determined not to be made a fool of again."
Most people who know anything about dogs, or doggy people, know Mr. George Raper, one of the most popular and capable all-round judges we have, but they do not all know what a very lively and active man he is. In my long experience as an exhibitor, I have often found myself in his company in different parts of the country, and usually he has had some good story to tell, or amusing thing to do. I remember, on one occasion, when we and a number more were staying at an hotel in South Wales, I forget now whether it was Haverfordwest, Pembroke or Tenby, but I think it was one of those three, how he astonished an old gentleman (not the least doggy or sporting in his appearance), by his agility. We were talking in the bar parlour of the hotel about vaulting, and in the room there was the ordinary high and wide pewter covered counter, or bar. I said, "I suppose you would not attempt to negotiate such an article as that?" Mr. Raper said, "I should have a good try at it," and without saying more, he stepped back, placed his hand on the centre of the counter, vaulted over, and then vaulted back again; the old gentleman, who was sitting down quietly having some refreshment, jumped up and said, "Bless my heart and soul, sir, I never saw such a thing done in my life!" which made us all laugh heartily.
Captain Brown, in his "Popular Natural History," tells the following story of those formerly much to bepitied animals, the dogs utilized as "Turnspits." "The Duke de Leancourt had for the work in his kitchen two Turnspits, which took their turns, regularly, every other day in the wheel (something after the style of the revolving cages for squirrels and mice). One of them not liking his employment, hid himself on the day it was his turn to work, when they tried to force his companion to mount the wheel in his stead, he cried, and wagging his tail, intimated to those in authority to follow him. He at once conducted them to an upstairs lumber room, where he dislodged the idle dog, and gave him a good thrashing on the spot."
In Mr. Baker's "Rifle and Hound in Ceylon," he says: "I was once shooting at Illepecadewè, which is a lonely, miserable spot, when I met with a very sagacious and independent sportsman in a most unexpected manner. I was shooting with a friend and we had separated for a few hundred paces. Presently I came upon a lot of Pea fowl and killed one of them with my rifle. The shot was no sooner fired than I heard another shot in the jungle, in the direction taken by my friend. My rifle was still unloaded when a spotted doe bounded out of the jungle, followed by a white Pariah dog in full chase. Who would have dreamt of meeting with a dog at a distance of more than three or four miles from any houses! I whistled to the dog, and to my surprise he came to me, the deer having, meanwhile, run clean out of sight in an incredibly short space of time. He was a knowing looking brute, and evidently out hunting on his own account.Just at this moment, my friend called out to me that he had wounded a buck, and had found the blood-stained track. I picked a blade of grass from the spot, which was tinged with blood, and holding it to the dog's nose, he eagerly followed me to the track, upon which I dropped it.
"He went off in a moment, but running mute I was obliged to follow, and after a run of over half a mile, I lost sight of him. In following the track of the wounded buck I heard the distant barking of a dog, by which I knew he had brought him to bay, and I was soon at the spot. The buck had taken up a position in a small glade, and was charging furiously at the dog, but he was a great deal too knowing to court the danger and kept well out of the way. I shot the buck, and tying a piece of jungle rope to the dog's neck, gave him to a gunbearer to lead as I hoped he might be again useful in hunting up a wounded deer. I had not proceeded more than half a mile when we arrived at the edge of a small sluggish stream, covered in most places with rushes and waterlilies.
"We waded through this about up to our hips, but the gunbearer, who had the dog with him, could not prevail upon our mute companion to follow; he pulled violently back and shrank and showed every sign of terror as he approached the water. I had now got over and was on the opposite bank, but as nothing could induce the dog to voluntarily come near the river, I told the gunbearer to drag him across by force. This he accordingly did, and the dog swam with frantic exertions across theriver and managed to slip his head out of the jungle rope by which he was held. The moment he arrived on terra firma, he rushed up a steep bank and looked attentively down into the water beneath. We now gave him credit for his sagacity in refusing to cross the dangerous passage.
"The reeds bowed down to the right and left as a huge crocodile of about eighteen feet in length moved slowly from his shallow bed into a deep hole. The dog turned to the right about and ran off as fast as his legs would carry him. No calling or whistling would induce him to return and I never saw him again. How he knew that a large crocodile lay concealed in the river I do not know, he probably had a previous unpleasant experience of those creatures, and seemed determined to profit by the lesson he had learnt. Making use of the experience I had gained in wild sports in the country, I came out well armed, according to my ideas of weapons for the chase. I had four double-barrelled rifles made specially to my order and my own pattern, my hunting knives and boar spear heads were also made to my own design and I arrived in Ceylon with a fine pack of Foxhounds, and 'Bran,' a favourite greyhound of wonderful speed and strength. The usual drawbacks and discomforts attending upon a new settlement having been overcome, Newera Ellia formed a pleasant place of residence. I soon, however, discovered that Foxhounds were not at all adapted to a country so enclosed by forest, some of the hounds were lost, others I parted with, and their progeny, crossed with Pointers, Bloodhounds and otherbreeds, have proved a useful stamp for Elk hunting.
"It is difficult to form a pack for this sport which shall be perfect in all respects. Sometimes a splendid hound in character may be more like a butcher's dog in appearance, but the pack cannot afford to part with him if he has really proved his value in work. The casualties from Leopards, Wild Boars, Elks and lost dogs are so great that the pack is with extreme difficulty kept up by breeding.
"It must be borne in mind that the place of a lost dog cannot be easily supplied in Ceylon! Newera Ellia is one of the few places in the island where the climate is suited to the constitution of a dog. In the low and hot climates they lead a short and miserable life, which is soon ended by the inevitable liver complaint; thus, if a supply for the pack cannot be kept up by breeding, hounds must be procured from England from time to time, and this, it is needless to say, is attended with much risk and great expense."
On one of the last occasions I exhibited my dogs at Maidstone show, in Kent, I was rather amused by a conversation I had with the secretary there. He said, "whenever I see you, sir, I think of your Dog." I asked what dog he referred to? He said, "one of your Dandies, I think he was a champion, (I forget whether it was Champion Rob Roy, or Champion Laird, but think it must have been the former). You had to leave before the end of the show, which was very unusual with you, sir, and you asked me to see your dogs packed; I was out in the building where allthe boxes and baskets were, when I heard a crackling noise, and, looking towards the place, saw a dog's head, and directly afterwards his body, come out of one of the hampers, and saw the dog walk across the building, and search amongst the packages, when he had found the one he wanted, he lifted up the lid with his nose, jumped in and lay down; I at once went over to see what name and number was on the package, and found that one of your dogs had been put, by an oversight, into a wrong basket, and as he found out it was not the proper one, he ate his way out, searched for and found his correct travelling basket, and lay down in it, ready to be sent home. I thought this was so smart and intelligent of the dog that I have never forgotten it, and have often mentioned it to my friends, who are interested in dogs."
The following about the dog, which appeared in the "Arcana of Science" in 1829, just seventy years ago, may be interesting to some of my readers at the present day: "The dog is the only animal that dreams, he and the elephant the only animals that understand looks and expressions; the elephant is the only four-footed animal that feels ennui; the dog the only quadruped which has been brought to speak. Professor Leibnitz, in Saxony, bore witness to a hound, he had heard speak thirty words distinctly."
I am inclined to doubt the speaking faculty of the dog, though I have certainly seen many animals that could do almost everything,butspeak.
Buffon, the eminent French naturalist, says of the dog, "More docile than man, more obedientthan any other animal, he is not only instructed in a short time, but also conforms to the manners and dispositions of those who have authority over him. He takes his tone from the house he inhabits, like the rest of the domestic staff, he is disdainful among the great and churlish among the clowns. Always assiduous in serving his master, and only friendly to his friends; he is indifferent to all others and declares himself openly against such as are dependent like himself. He knows a beggar by his voice, by his clothes or his gestures and challenges his approach. When, at night, or other occasions, the protection of the house is entrusted to his care, he seems proud of the charge, he continues a vigilant sentinel, he goes his rounds, scents strangers at a distance and gives them warning he is upon duty. If they attempt to break in upon his territory, he becomes more fierce, flies at them, threatens, fights, and either conquers alone or alarms those who have most at interest in coming to his assistance, however, when he has conquered, he quickly reposes, and abstains from what he has prevented others from abusing, giving thus, at once, a lesson of courage, temperance and fidelity."