[Illustration: NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.]
In a state of purity, and uncontaminated by a mixture of any inferior
race, this is certainly the noblest of the canine tribe. His great size
and strength, and majestic look, convey to the mind a sort of awe, if
not fear, but which is quickly dispelled when we examine the placid
serenity and the mild expressive intelligence of his countenance,
showing at once that ferocity is no part of his disposition.
The full-sized Newfoundland dog from the nose to the end of the tail
measures about six feet and a half, the length of the tail being two
feet; from the one fore foot to the other, over the shoulders, five feet
eight inches; girth behind the shoulders three feet four inches; round
the head, across the ears, two feet; round the upper part of the fore
leg, ten inches; length of the head, fourteen inches; and his feet are
webbed, by which means he can swim with great ease. He is covered with
long shaggy hair, has feathered legs, and an extremely villous tail,
which is curvilinear.
This dog is but of recent introduction into this country from the island
whose name he bears, and may be considered as a distinct race. I cannot
agree with some naturalists who hold the opinion that the Siberian,
Lapland, and Iceland dogs are from the same stock as the Newfoundland,
because the formation of the head in this last is very different, and
his muzzle, though long, is not nearly so acute as in the others; he
also differs materially in his shape, but more especially in the length
of his body.
This dog is not remarkable for symmetry of form, or in the setting on of
his legs, whence his motion is somewhat awkward and loose, and
consequently he is not distinguished for speed,—a defect which might be
remedied by breeding, were an improvement in that particular thought
desirable.
The Newfoundland dog is docile to a very great degree, and nothing can
exceed his affection. Naturally athletic and active, he is ever eager to
be employed, and seems delighted to perform any little office required
of him. Nature has given him a great share of emulation, and hence to be
surpassed or overcome is to him the occasion of great pain. Active on
every emergency, he is the friend of all, and is naturally without the
least disposition to quarrel with other animals. He seldom or never
offers offence, but will not receive an insult or injury with impunity.
Such is the capacity of his understanding, that he can be taught almost
everything which man can inculcate, and of which his own strength and
frame are capable. His sagacity can only be exceeded by his energies,
and he perseveres with unabated ardour in whatever shape he is employed,
and while he has a hope of success he will never slacken in his efforts
to attain it. The amazing pliability of his temper peculiarly fits him
for the use of man, and he never shrinks from any service which may be
required of him, but undertakes it with an ardour proportionate to the
difficulty of its execution. Taking a singular pride in being employed,
he will carry a stick, a basket, or a bundle, for miles in his mouth,
and to deprive him of any of these is more than a stranger could
accomplish with safety.
Sagacity and a peculiar faithful attachment to the human species are
characteristics inseparable from this dog, and hence he is ever on the
alert to ward off from his master every impending danger, and to free
him from every peril to which he may be exposed. He is endowed with an
astonishing degree of courage, whether to resent an insult or to defend
his friends, even at the risk of his own life.
Habitually inclined to industrious employment, such dogs are as useful
to the settlers of the coast from which they are brought, as our ponies
and galloways are to us. It is easy to accustom them to daily labour.
From three to five of them are harnessed to a sledge or other vehicle,
containing a load of wood or lumber, amounting to twenty or thirty
stone, which they steadily draw for miles with ease. This they do
without the aid of a driver, when they are acquainted with the road, and
having delivered their burden, they return home to their master, and
receive as a reward for their labour their accustomed food, which
generally consists of dried fish, of which they are said to be extremely
fond. The qualifications of this dog are extensive indeed; as a keeper
or defender of the house, he is far more intelligent, more powerful, and
more to be depended upon than the mastiff, and has of late years been
much substituted for him in England; indeed he may with great propriety
entirely supersede that breed. As a watch dog, and for his services upon
navigable rivers, none can compete with him; and various sportsmen have
introduced him into the field as a pointer with great success, his kind
disposition and sagacity rendering his training an easy task.
The usual fate of other fine dogs attends this generous race among us;
they are too often degraded and degenerated by inferior crosses, which
with so noble an animal should be avoided by every possible means.
At the commencement of the action which took place between the Nymph and
Cleopatra, during the late war, there was a large Newfoundland dog on
board the former vessel, which the moment the firing began ran from
below deck, in spite of the endeavours of the men to keep him down, and
climbing up into the main-chains he there kept up a continual barking,
and exhibited the most violent rage during the whole of the engagement.
When the Cleopatra struck, he was among the foremost to board her, and
there walked up and down the decks, seemingly conscious of the victory
he had gained.
NEWT, _s._ Eft, small lizard.
NIBBLE, _v._ To bite by little at a time, to eat slowly; to bite as
a fish does the bait; not to bite sportingly.
NICK, _s._ A notch cut in anything; in hazard, a winning throw.
NICK, _v._ To hit, to touch luckily; to cut in nicks or notches; to
suit, as tallies cut in nicks; a term at hazard; to shorten a
horse’s tail.
The operation of nicking is thus performed. The side line is put on the
horse, or some deem it more prudent to cast him, and that precaution we
should be disposed to recommend. The hair at the end of the tail is
securely tied together for the purpose of afterwards attaching a weight
to it. The operator then grasps the tail in his hand, and lifting it up,
feels for the centre of one of the bones (the prominences at the
extremities will guide him to this), from two to four inches from the
root of the tail, according to the size of the horse. He then with a
sharp knife divides the muscles deep from the edge of the tail on one
side to the centre, and continuing the incision across the bone of the
tail, he makes it as deep on the other side. One continued incision,
steadily, yet rapidly, made, will accomplish this. If it be a blood
horse this will be sufficient. For a hunter, two incisions are usually
made, the second being about two inches below the first, and likewise as
nearly as possible in the centre of one of the bones; the reason of
which is, that the incision, in order perfectly to divide the muscles
that bring down the tail, must not be so deep, as, in the neighbourhood
of a joint, to endanger the wounding of the ligament which ties the
bones together, or the substance which is interposed between the joints,
and thus by destroying the joint to render the tail deformed.
On a hackney, or cocktail, a third incision is made; for fashion has
decided that his tail shall be still more elevated and curved. Two
incisions only are made in the tail of a mare, and the second not very
deep.
When the second incision is made, some fibres of the muscles between the
first and second incisions will project into the wounds, and which must
be removed with a pair of curved scissors. The same must be done with
the projecting portions from between the second and third incisions; and
the wounds should be carefully examined to ascertain that the muscles
have been equally divided on each side, otherwise the tail will be
carried awry. This being done, pledgets of tow must be introduced deeply
into each gap, and confined, but not too tightly, by a bandage. A very
profuse bleeding will alone justify any tightness of bandage; and the
ill consequences which have resulted from re-nicking are mainly
attributable to the unnecessary force which is used in confining these
pledgets. Even if the bleeding, immediately after the operation, should
have been very great, the roller must be loosened in two or three hours,
otherwise swelling and inflammation, or death, may possibly ensue.
Twenty-four hours after the operation, the bandage must be quite
removed; and then, all that is necessary, so far as the healing of the
wounds is concerned, is to keep them clean.
NIDE, _s._ A brood, as a nide of pheasants.
NIDIFICATION, _s._ The act of building nests.
It is curious to observe with what different degrees of architectonic
skill Providence has endowed birds of the same genus, and so nearly
correspondent in their general mode of life; for while the swallow and
the house martin discover the greatest address in raising and securely
fixing crusts or shells of loam as _cunabula_ for their young, the bank
martin terebrates a round and regular hole in the sand or earth, which
is serpentine, horizontal, and about two feet deep. At the inner end of
this burrow does this bird deposit, in a good degree of safety, her rude
nest, consisting of fine grasses and feathers, usually goose feathers,
very inartificially laid together.
Perseverance will accomplish any thing: though at first one would be
disinclined to believe that this weak bird, with her soft and tender
bill and claws, should ever be able to bore the stubborn sandbank
without entirely disabling herself; yet with these feeble instruments
have I seen a pair of them make great despatch: and could remark how
much they had scooped that day by the fresh sand which ran down the
bank, and was of a different colour from that which lay loose and
bleached in the sun.
In what space of time these little artists are able to mine and finish
these cavities I have never been able to discover, for reasons given
above; but it would be a matter worthy of observation, where it falls in
the way of any naturalist to make his remarks. This I have often taken
notice of, that several holes of different depths are left unfinished at
the end of summer. To imagine that these beginnings were intentionally
made in order to be in the greater forwardness for next spring, is
allowing perhaps too much foresight and _rerum prudentia_ to a simple
bird. May not the cause of these _latebræ_ being left unfinished, arise
from their meeting in those places with strata too harsh, hard, and
solid, for their purpose, which they relinquish, and go to a fresh spot
that works more freely? Or may they not in other places fall in with a
soil as much too loose and mouldering, liable to founder, and
threatening to overwhelm them and their labours?
One thing is remarkable—that, after some years, the old holes are
forsaken and new ones bored; perhaps because the old habitations grow
foul and fetid from long use, or because they may so abound with fleas,
as to become untenantable. This species of swallow, moreover, is
strangely annoyed with fleas; and we have seen fleas, bed fleas, (_Pulex
irritans_,) swarming at the mouths of these holes, like bees on the
stools of their hives.—_White’s Selborne._
NIGHTCROW, _s._ A bird that cries in the night.