Now Toby was a sheep, a sheep of middling size, lightly built, finely
limbed, as agile as a deer, with dark intelligent gazelle-like eyes, and
a small pair of neatly curled horns, with the points protruding about an
inch from his forehead. And his colour was white except on the face,
which was slightly darker.
It was the good brig _Reliance_ of Arbroath, and she was bound from Cork
to Galatz, on the banks of the blue Danube. All went well with the
little ship until she reached the Grecian Archipelago, and here she was
detained by adverse winds and contrary currents, making the passage
through among the islands both a dangerous and a difficult one. When
the mariners at length reached Tenedos, it was found that the current
from the Dardanelles was running out like a mill-stream, which made it
impossible to proceed; and accordingly the anchor was cast, the
jolly-boat was lowered, and the captain took the opportunity of going on
shore for fresh water, of which they were scarce. Having filled his
casks, it was only natural for a sailor to long to treat himself to a
mess of fresh meat as well as water. He accordingly strolled away
through the little town; but soon found that butchers were unknown
animals in Tenedos. Presently, however, a man came up with a sheep,
which the captain at once purchased for five shillings. This was Toby,
with whom, his casks of water, and a large basket of ripe fruit, the
skipper returned to his vessel. There happened to be on board this ship
a large and rather useless half-bred Newfoundland. This dog was the
very first to receive the attentions of Master Toby, for no sooner had
he placed foot on deck than he ran full tilt at the poor Newfoundland,
hitting him square on the ribs and banishing almost every bit of breath
from his body. "Only a sheep," thought the dog, and flew at Toby at
once. But Toby was too nimble to be caught, and he planted his blows
with such force and precision, that at last the poor dog was fain to
take to his heels, howling with pain, and closely pursued by Toby. The
dog only escaped by getting out on to the bowsprit, where of course Toby
could not follow, but quietly lay down between the knight-heads to wait
and watch for him.
That same evening the captain was strolling on the quarter-deck eating
some grapes, when Toby came up to him, and standing on one end, planted
his feet on his shoulders, and looked into his face, as much as to say:
"I'll have some of those, please."
And he was not disappointed, for the captain amicably went shares with
Toby. Toby appeared so grateful for even little favours, and so
attached to his new master, that Captain Brown had not the heart to kill
him. He would rather, he thought, go without fresh meat all his life.
So Toby was installed as ship's pet. Ill-fared it then with the poor
Newfoundland; he was so battered and so cowed, that for dear life's sake
he dared not leave his kennel even to take his food. It was determined,
therefore, to put an end to the poor fellow's misery, and he was
accordingly shot. This may seem cruel, but it was the kindest in the
main.
Now, there was on board the _Reliance_ an old Irish cook. One morning
soon after the arrival of Toby, Paddy (who had a round bald pate, be it
remembered) was bending down over a wooden platter cleaning the
vegetables for dinner, when Toby took the liberty of insinuating his
woolly nose to help himself. The cook naturally enough struck Toby on
the snout with the flat of the knife and went on with his work. Toby
backed astern at once; a blow he never could and never did receive
without taking vengeance. Besides, he imagined, no doubt, that holding
down his bald head as he did, the cook was desirous of trying the
strength of their respective skulls. When he had backed astern
sufficiently for his purpose, Toby gave a spring; the two heads came
into violent collision, and down rolled poor Paddy on the deck. Then
Toby coolly finished all the vegetables, and walked off as if nothing
had happened out of the usual.
Toby's hatred of the whole canine race was invincible. While the vessel
lay at Galatz she was kept in quarantine, and there was only one small
platform, about four hundred yards long by fifty wide, on which the
captain or crew of the _Reliance_ could land. This was surrounded by
high walls on three sides, one side being the Pe'latoria, at which all
business with the outside world was transacted through gratings.
Inside, however, there were a few fruit-stalls. Crowds used to
congregate here every morning to watch Toby's capers, and admire the
nimbleness with which he used to rob the fruit-stalls and levy blackmail
from the vegetable vendors.
One day when the captain and his pet were taking their usual walk on
this promenade, there came on shore the skipper of a Falmouth ship,
accompanied by a large formidable-looking dog. And the dog only
resembled his master, as you observe dogs usually do. As soon as he saw
Toby he commenced to hunt his dog upon him; but Toby had seen him coming
and was quite _en garde_; so a long and fierce battle ensued, in which
Toby was slightly wounded and the dog's head was severely cut. Quite a
multitude had assembled to witness the fight, and the ships' riggings
were alive with sailors. At one time the brutal owner of the dog,
seeing his pet getting worsted, attempted to assist him; but the crowd
would have pitched him neck and crop into the river, had he not
desisted. At last both dog and sheep were exhausted and drew off, as if
by mutual consent. The dog seated himself close to the outer edge of
the platform, which was about three feet higher than the river's bank,
and Toby went, as he was wont to do, and stood between his master's
legs, resting his head fondly on the captain's clasped hands, but never
took his eyes off the foe. Just then a dog on board one of the ships
happened to bark, and the Falmouth dog looked round. This was Toby's
chance, and he did not miss it nor his enemy either. He was upon him
like a bolt from a catapult. One furious blow knocked the dog off the
platform, next moment Toby had leaped on top of him, and was chasing the
yelling animal towards his own ship. There is no doubt Toby would have
crossed the plank and followed him on board, had not his feet slipped
and precipitated him into the river. A few minutes afterwards, when
Toby, dripping with wet, returned to the platform to look for his
master, he was greeted with ringing cheers; and many was the plaster
spent in treating Toby to fruit. Toby was the hero of Galatz from that
hour; but the Falmouth dog never ventured on shore again, and his master
as seldom as possible.
On her downward voyage, when the vessel reached Selina, at the mouth of
the river, it became necessary to lighten her in order to get her over
the bar. This took some time, and Toby's master frequently had to go on
shore; but Toby himself was not permitted to accompany him, on account
of the filth and muddiness of the place. When the captain wished to
return he came down to the river-side and hailed the ship to send a
boat. And poor Toby was always on the watch for his master if no one
else was. He used to place his fore-feet on the bulwarks and bleat
loudly towards the shore, as much as to say: "I see you, master, and
you'll have a boat in a brace of shakes." Then if no one was on deck,
Toby would at once proceed to rouse all hands fore and aft. If the
mate, Mr Gilbert, pretended to be asleep on a locker, he would fairly
roll him off on to the deck.
Toby was revengeful to a degree, and if any one struck him, he would
wait his chance, even if for days, to pay him out with interest in his
own coin. He was at first very jealous of two little pigs which were
bought as companions to him; but latterly he grew very fond of them, and
as they soon got very fat, Toby used to roll them along the deck like a
couple of footballs. There were two parties on board that Toby did not
like, or rather that he liked to annoy whenever he got the chance,
namely, the cook and the cat. He used to cheat the former and chase the
latter on every possible occasion. If his master took pussy and sat
down with her on his knee, Toby would at once commence to strike her off
with his head. Finding that she was so soft and yielding that this did
not hurt her, he would then lift his fore-foot and attempt to strike her
down with that; failing in that, he would bite viciously at her; and if
the captain laughed at him, then all Toby's vengeance would be wreaked
on his master. But after a little scene like this, Toby would always
come and coax for forgiveness. Toby was taught a great many tricks,
among others to leap backward and forward through a life-buoy. When his
hay and fresh provisions went down, Toby would eat pea-soup, invariably
slobbering all his face in so doing, and even pick a bone like a dog.
He was likewise very fond of boiled rice, and his drink was water,
although he preferred porter and ale; but while allowing him a
reasonable quantity of beer, the captain never encouraged him in the
nasty habit the sailors had taught him of chewing tobacco.
It is supposed that some animals have a prescience of coming storms.
Toby used to go regularly to the bulwarks every night, and placing his
feet against them sniff all around him. If content, he would go and lie
down and fall fast asleep; but it was a sure sign of bad weather coming
before morning, when Toby kept wandering among his master's feet and
would not go to rest.
Pea-soup and pork-bones are scarcely to be considered the correct food
for a sheep, and so it is hardly to be wondered at that Toby got very
thin before the vessel reached Falmouth.
Once Toby was in a hotel coffee-room with his master and a friend of the
latter's, when instead of calling for two glasses of beer, the captain
called for three.
"Is the extra glass for yourself or for me?" asked his friend.
The extra glass was for Toby, who soon became the subject of general
conversation.
"I warrant noo," said a north-country skipper, "that thing would kick up
a bonnie shine if you were to gang oot and leave him."
"Would you like to try him?" replied Captain Brown.
"I would," said the Scot, "vera muckle."
Accordingly Toby was imprisoned in one corner of the room, where he was
firmly held by the Scotch skipper; and Captain Brown, after giving Toby
a glance which meant a great deal, left the room. No sooner had he gone
than Toby struggled clear of the Scotchman, and took the nearest route
for the door. This necessitated his jumping on to the middle of the
table, and here Toby missed his footing and fell, kicking over glasses,
decanters, and pewter pots by the half-dozen. He next floored a
half-drunken fellow, over whose head he tried to spring, and so secured
his escape, and left the Scotch skipper to pay the bill.
One day Captain Brown was going up the steps of the Custom-house, when
he found that not only Toby but Toby's two pigs were following close at
his heels. He turned round to drive them all back; but Toby never
thought for a moment that his master meant that _he_ should return.
"It is these two awkward creatures of pigs," thought Toby, "that master
can't bear the sight of."
So Toby went to work at once, and first rolled one piggie downstairs,
then went up and rolled the other piggie downstairs; but the one piggie
always got to the top of the stairs again by the time his brother piggie
was rolled down to the bottom. Thinking that as far as appearances
went, Toby had his work cut out for the next half-hour, his master
entered the Custom-house. But Toby and his friends soon found some more
congenial employment; and when Captain Brown returned, he found them all
together in an outer room, dancing about with the remains of a new mat
about their necks, which they had just succeeded in tearing to pieces.
Their practical jokes cost the captain some money one way or another.
One day the three friends made a combined attack on a woman who was
carrying a young pig in a sack; this little pig happened to squeak, when
Toby and his pigs went to the rescue. They tore the woman's dress to
atoms and delivered the little pig. Toby was very much addicted to
describing the arc of a circle; that was all very good when it was
merely a fence he was flying over, but when it happened that a window
was in the centre of the arc, then it came rather hard on the captain's
pocket.
In order to enable him to pick up a little after his long voyage, Toby
was sent to country lodgings at a farmer's. But barely a week had
elapsed when the farmer sent him back again with his compliments, saying
that he would not keep him for his weight in gold. He led his, the
farmer's, sheep into all sorts of mischief that they had never dreamed
of before, and he defied the dogs, and half-killed one or two of them.
Toby returned like himself, for when he saw his master in the distance
he baa-ed aloud for joy, and flew towards him like a wild thing,
dragging the poor boy in the mud behind him.
Toby next took out emigrants to New York, and was constantly employed
all day in sending the steerage passengers off the quarter-deck. He
never hurt the children, however, but contented himself by tumbling them
along the deck and stealing their bread-and-butter.
From New York Toby went to Saint Stephens. There a dog flew out and bit
Captain Brown in the leg. It was a dear bite, however, for the dog, for
Toby caught him in the act, and hardly left life enough in him to crawl
away. At Saint Stephens Toby was shorn, the weather being oppressively
hot. No greater insult could have been offered him. His anger and
chagrin were quite ludicrous to witness. He examined himself a dozen
times, and every time he looked round and saw his naked back he tried to
run away from himself. He must have thought with the wee "wifiekie
comin' frae the fair--This is no me surely, this is no me." But when
his master, highly amused at his antics, attempted to add insult to
injury by pointing his finger at him and laughing him to scorn, Toby's
wrath knew no bounds, and he attacked the captain on the spot. He
managed, however, to elude the blow, and Toby walked on shore in a pet.
Whether it was that he was ashamed of his ridiculous appearance, or of
attempting to strike his kind master in anger, cannot be known, but for
three days and nights Toby never appeared, and the captain was very
wretched indeed. But when he did return, he was so exceedingly penitent
and so loving and coaxing that he was forgiven on the spot.
When Toby arrived with his vessel in Queen's Dock, Liverpool, on a rainy
morning, some nice fresh hay was brought on board. This was a great
treat for Toby, and after he had eaten his fill, he thought he could not
do better than sleep among it, which thought he immediately transmuted
to action, covering himself all up except the head. By-and-by the owner
of the ship came on board, and taking a survey of things in general, he
spied Toby's head.
"Hollo!" he said, "what's that?" striking Toby's nose with his umbrella.
"Stuffed, isn't it?"
Stuffed or not stuffed, there was a stuffed body behind it, as the owner
soon knew to his cost, and a spirit that never brooked a blow, for next
moment he found himself lying on his back with his legs waggling in the
air in the most expressive manner, while Toby stood triumphantly over
him waiting to repeat the dose if required.
The following anecdote shows Toby's reasoning powers. He was standing
one day near the dockyard foreman's house, when the dinner bell rang,
and just at the same time a servant came out with a piece of bread for
Toby. Every day after this, as soon as the same bell rang--"That calls
me," said Toby to himself, and off he would trot to the foreman's door.
If the door was not at once opened he used to knock with his head; and
he would knock and knock again until the servant, for peace' sake,
presented him with a slice of bread.
And now Toby's tale draws near its close. The owner never forgave that
blow, and one day coming by chance across the following entry in the
ship's books, "Tenedos--to one sheep, five shillings," he immediately
claimed Toby as his rightful property. It was all in vain that the
captain begged hard for his poor pet, and even offered ten times his
nominal value for him. The owner was deaf to all entreaties and
obdurate. So the two friends were parted. Toby was sent a long way
into the country to Carnoustie, to amuse some of the owner's children,
who were at school there. But the sequel shows how very deeply and
dearly even a sheep can love a kind-hearted master. After the captain
left him, poor Toby refused all food and _died of grief in one week's
time_.