clearly the result of a process of reasoning. Mr. Jesse tells of a dog
who was sent to fetch two hats which had been left lying upon the
grass. After several unsuccessful attempts to carry the two together in
his mouth, he laid them on the ground, placed the smaller within the
larger, pressed it down with his foot, and then easily carried them to
his master. Instances are recorded of dogs who while always ready to
perform a useful service, absolutely refused to act for the amusement of
on-lookers or to discharge unnecessary duties. Thus a dog who would go
into the water to retrieve a wild duck would refuse to fetch anything
that had been thrown in for the purpose of displaying his agility, and
another who was accustomed to ring the servants' bell at the bidding of
his mistress refused to do so when told while the servant was in the
room, and if repeatedly commanded to do so, would lay hold of the
servant's coat and attempt to drag him to his mistress. These
illustrations seem to show a power of discrimination not usually
credited to animals. Of the intelligence shown by dogs which have been
trained, the following story from the "Percy Anecdotes" is at once a
remarkable and an amusing illustration. "One day, when Dumont, a
tradesman of the Rue St. Denis, was walking in the Boulevard St. Antoine
with a friend, he offered to lay a wager with the latter, that if he
were to hide a six-livre piece in the dust, his dog would discover and
bring it to him. The wager was accepted, and the piece of money
secreted, after being carefully marked. When the two had proceeded some
distance from the spot, M. Dumont called to his dog that he had lost
something, and ordered him to seek it. Caniche immediately turned back,
and his master and his companion pursued their walk to the Rue St.
Denis. Meanwhile a traveller, who happened to be just then returning in
a small chaise from Vincennes, perceived the piece of money, which his
horse had kicked from its hiding-place; he alighted, took it up, and
drove to his inn, in the Rue Pont-aux-Choux. Caniche had just reached
the spot in search of the lost piece when the stranger picked it up. He
followed the chaise, went into the inn, and stuck close to the
traveller. Having scented out the coin which he had been ordered to
bring back in the pocket of the latter, he leaped up incessantly at and
about him. The traveller, supposing him to be some dog that had been
lost or left behind by his master, regarded his different movements as
marks of fondness; and as the animal was handsome, he determined to keep
him. He gave him a good supper, and on retiring to bed took him with him
to his chamber. No sooner had he pulled off his breeches, than they were
seized by the dog; the owner conceiving that he wanted to play with
them, took them away again. The animal began to bark at the door, which
the traveller opened, under the idea that the dog wanted to go out.
Caniche snatched up the breeches, and away he flew. The traveller posted
after him with his night-cap on, and literally _sans culottes_. Anxiety
for the fate of a purse full of gold Napoleons, of forty francs each,
which was in one of the pockets, gave redoubled velocity to his steps.
Caniche ran full speed to his master's house, where the stranger arrived
a moment afterwards breathless and enraged. He accused the dog of
robbing him. 'Sir,' said the master, 'my dog is a very faithful
creature; and if he has run away with your breeches, it is because you
have in them money which does not belong to you.' The traveller became
still more exasperated. 'Compose yourself, sir,' rejoined the other,
smiling; 'without doubt there is in your purse a six-livre piece, with
such and such marks, which you have picked up in the Boulevard St.
Antoine, and which I threw down there with the firm conviction that my
dog would bring it back again. This is the cause of the robbery which he
has committed upon you.' The stranger's rage now yielded to
astonishment; he delivered the six-livre piece to the owner, and could
not forbear caressing the dog which had given him so much uneasiness,
and such an unpleasant chase."
Dogs' Mistakes.
That dogs sometimes make mistakes in the exercise of their intelligence,
with somewhat ludicrous results, is of course true. A dog once
accompanied a gentleman's servant to a tailor's with a coat of his
master's which needed repair. Having his suspicions with regard to the
transaction, the dog watched his opportunity, seized the coat from the
counter and carried it back with evident satisfaction to his master.
Another dog caused great amusement at a swimming match by insisting upon
the rescue of one of the competitors. Dogs have also been known to cause
both amusement and consternation by leaping upon the stage to rescue the
defenceless characters of the melodrama from the hands of the heavy
villain of the play. The story of the dog who failed to recognise his
master who had been bathing, and who therefore refused to allow him to
have his clothes, is probably apochryphal, but if true is another
illustration of the awkwardness of dogs' mistakes.
The Eskimo Dog.
Colonel Hamilton Smith in his classification of dogs begins with those
which belong nearest to the arctic circle, and it will be convenient to
follow his order in so far as space will allow. Speaking of the Eskimo
dog Captain Lyon says:--"Having myself possessed during our hard winter
a team of eleven fine dogs, I was enabled to become better acquainted
with their good qualities than could possibly have been the case by the
casual visits of the Esquimaux to the ships. The form of the Esquimaux
dog is very similar to that of our shepherd's dog in England, but it is
more muscular and broad-chested, owing to the constant and severe work
to which he is brought up. His ears are pointed, and the aspect of the
head is somewhat savage. In size a fine dog about the height of the
Newfoundland breed, but broad like a mastiff in every part except the
nose. The hair of the coat is in summer, as well as in winter, very
long, but during the cold season a soft, downy under-covering is found,
which does not appear in warm weather. Young dogs are put into harness
as soon as they can walk, and being tied up, soon acquire a habit of
pulling, in their attempts to recover their liberty, or to roam in quest
of their mother. When about two months old, they are put into the sledge
with the grown dogs, and sometimes eight or ten little ones are under
the charge of some steady old animal, where, with frequent and sometimes
severe beatings, they soon receive a competent education. Every dog is
distinguished by a particular name, and the angry repetition of it has
an effect as instantaneous as an application of the whip, which
instrument is of an immense length, having a lash from eighteen to
twenty-four feet, while the handle is one foot only; with this, by
throwing it on one side or the other of the leader, and repeating
certain words, the animals are guided or stopped. When the sledge is
stopped they are all taught to lie down, by throwing the whip gently
over their backs, and they will remain in this position even for hours,
until their master returns to them. A walrus is frequently drawn along
by three or four of these dogs, and seals are sometimes carried home in
the same manner, though I have in some instances seen a dog bring home
the greater part of a seal in panniers placed across his back. Cold has
very little effect on them; for although the dogs at the huts slept
within the snow passages, mine at the ships had no shelter, but lay
alongside, with the thermometer at 42° and 44°, and with as little
concern as if the weather had been mild. I found, by several
experiments, that three of my dogs could draw me on a sledge, weighing
one hundred pounds, at the rate of one mile in six minutes; and as a
proof of the strength of a well-grown dog, my leader drew one hundred
and ninety-six pounds singly, and to the same distance, in eight
minutes. At another time seven of my dogs ran a mile in four minutes,
drawing a heavy sledge full of men. Afterwards, in carrying stores to
the Fury, one mile distant, nine dogs drew one thousand six hundred and
eleven pounds in the space of nine minutes. When the dogs slackened
their pace, the sight of a seal or bird was sufficient to put them
instantly to their full speed; and even though none of these might be
seen on the ice, the cry of 'a seal!'--'a bear!'--or 'a bird!' &c., was
enough to give play to the legs and voices of the whole pack. The voice
and long whip answer all the purposes of reins, and the dogs can be made
to turn a corner as dexterously as horses, though not in such an orderly
manner, since they are constantly fighting; and I do not recollect to
have seen one receive a flogging without instantly wreaking his passion
on the ears of his neighbours. The cries of the men are not more
melodious than those of the animals; and their wild looks and gestures
when animated, give them an appearance of devils driving wolves before
them. Our dogs had eaten nothing for forty-eight hours, and could not
have gone over less than seventy miles of ground; yet they returned, to
all appearance, as fresh and active as when they first set out."
A Hard Lot.
The unhappy condition of the Eskimo dogs under native treatment is
pathetically referred to in "Cassell's Natural History," edited by
Professor Duncan. The writer says "the horrible savagery of those poor
wretches can hardly be wondered at; they live in a country where there
is hardly a chance for them in any independent foraging expedition; they
are half-starved by their masters, being fed chiefly on frozen walrus
hides in the winter, and allowed to shift for themselves in the summer
when their services are not required, and are in so perennial and acute
a state of hunger that they are ready at any time to eat their own
harness if allowed to do so. It is generally stated that they are
perfectly insensible to kindness, and only to be kept in order by a
liberal application of the lash, or even of a more formidable weapon;
for the Eskimo, if their dogs are refractory, do not scruple to beat
them about the head with a hammer, or anything else of sufficient
hardness which happens to be at hand. They will even beat the poor
brutes in this horrible manner until they are actually stunned.
Notwithstanding the absolute dependence of the Eskimo on their dogs,
little or no care is taken of them; they receive nothing in any degree
approaching petting, and spend all their time in the open air. The chief
use of the Eskimo dog is to draw the sledges, which are the only
possible conveyances in that frozen land. In all the Arctic expeditions
which have been sent out at various times, a good supply of sledge dogs
has been one of the greatest _desiderata_, as without them it would be
absolutely impossible to proceed far. No other animal would answer the
purpose, both horses and cattle being quite useless in journeys over ice
and snow, amongst which the pack of light, active dogs make their way
with wonderful ease and safety." The Siberian dogs render equally
valuable services to their masters with about an equal measure of
appreciation.
The Newfoundland Dog.
The dog known as the Newfoundland dog is one of the handsomest and best
beloved of the dog family. He is distinct from the Labrador dog, which
is more slender in make, has a sharper muzzle and is generally "black in
colour with a tawny nose and a rusty spot over each eye". The Labrador
dog and the Eskimo have been credited with the parentage of the
Newfoundland species. At home the Newfoundland is made useful for the
purpose of drawing loads, being harnessed to small carts and sleighs for
carrying wood and other commodities. Abroad like the prophet who "is not
without honour save in his own country", he has been found capable and
worthy of much more honourable service, and his fidelity and sagacity
have won for him universal esteem. He is an expert swimmer, his feet
being webbed and so peculiarly adapted for the exercise. He takes to the
water as though it were his natural element, and has so often carried
the line to sinking ships, and rescued persons about to drown that such
incidents have become quite common. The tribute paid to him by Sir
Edwin Landseer, when he named his famous picture of him "a distinguished
member of the humane society", was no more poetical than just. Volumes
might be filled with stories of his intelligence and prowess, and it is
difficult within present limits to select a due variety of
characteristic anecdotes.
The Newfoundland's Generosity.
One of the most marked characteristics of the Newfoundland dog is his
generosity to a fallen foe. His temper is said to be uncertain, though
this has been questioned by some who have had large experience of him
under varying circumstances. Be this as it may, there are many stories
told to his honour of his generosity to his enemies in the moment of
victory. A Newfoundland dog, who had for some time treated with becoming
dignity the impudence of some mongrels who were amusing themselves by
snapping and snarling at his heels, suddenly turned and sent the crowd
of persecutors flying in all directions, except the ringleader, who fell
sprawling in the middle of the street, where he was about to receive the
punishment he deserved when a cable car came dashing down the hill,
right upon the dogs. The big dog saw the danger at once and sprang
aside, but his enemy remained upon his back, too terrified to notice
anything. The Newfoundland took in the situation, in a moment sprang
back in front of the car, seized the cur in his teeth, and snatched him,
still whining and begging for mercy, out of the very jaws of death.
Laying him in the gutter, he gave a good-natured wag or two of his tail
and went his way. Another Newfoundland much bothered by a small cur who
was for ever barking at his heels, but who treated his assailant with
sublime indifference, was on one occasion aroused to adopt drastic
measures by receiving a bite on his leg. Seizing the cur by the loose
skin of his back he carried him down to the quay of Cork and after
letting him dangle over the water for a little while, dropped him into
it. After watching the animal struggle with the water until nearly
exhausted, the Newfoundland plunged in and rescued him. Mr. Jesse gives
a fine illustration of this canine chivalry, witnessed at Donaghadee.
"The one dog in this case was also a Newfoundland, and the other was a
mastiff. They were both powerful dogs; and though each was good-natured
when alone, they were very much in the habit of fighting when they met.
One day they had a fierce and prolonged battle on the pier, from the
point of which they both fell into the sea; and as the pier was long and
steep, they had no means of escape but by swimming a considerable
distance. Throwing water upon fighting dogs is an approved means of
putting an end to their hostilities; and it is natural to suppose that
two combatants of the same species tumbling themselves into the sea
would have the same effect. It had; and each began to make for the land
as best he could. The Newfoundland being an excellent swimmer, very
speedily gained the pier, on which he stood shaking himself; but at the
same time watching the motions of his late antagonist, which, being no
swimmer, was struggling exhausted in the water, and just about to sink.
In dashed the Newfoundland dog, took the other gently by the collar,
kept his head above water, and brought him safely on shore. There was a
peculiar kind of recognition between the two animals; they never fought
again; they were always together: and when the Newfoundland dog had been
accidentally killed by the passage of a stone waggon on the railway over
him, the other languished and evidently lamented for a long time."
The Newfoundland's Perception of Danger.
The quickness with which the Newfoundland will realise the danger of a
situation and the promptitude with which he will devise a remedy, make
him in some cases a more valuable friend in need than a man could be.
Human aid would have probably been too slow in the following case
related by Mr. Jesse. "In the city of Worchester, one of the principal
streets leads by a gentle declivity to the river Severn. One day a
child, in crossing the street, fell down in the middle of it and a horse
and cart, which was descending the hill, would have passed over it, had
not a Newfoundland dog rushed to the rescue of the child, caught it up
in his mouth, and conveyed it in safety to the foot pavement."
The promptitude with which he will leap into the water to save the
drowning, without waiting for any word of command, is another
illustration of this faculty. Another case related by Mr. Jesse may be
quoted. "In the year 1841, as a labourer, named Rake, in the parish of
Botley, near Southampton, was at work in a gravel-pit, the top stratum
gave way, and he was buried up to his neck by the great quantity of
gravel which fell upon him. He was at the same time so much hurt, two of
his ribs being broken, that he found it impossible to make any attempt
to extricate himself from his perilous situation. Indeed, nothing could
be more fearful than the prospect before him. No one was within hearing
of his cries, nor was any one likely to come near the spot. He must
almost inevitably have perished, had it not been for a Newfoundland dog
belonging to his employer. This animal had been watching the man at his
work for some days, as if he had been aware that his assistance would be
required; for no particular attachment to each other had been exhibited
on either side. As soon, however, as the accident occurred, the dog
jumped into the pit, and commenced removing the gravel with his paws;
and this he did in so vigorous and expeditious a manner, that the poor
man was at length able to liberate himself, though with extreme
difficulty. What an example of kindness, sensibility, and I may add
reason, does this instance afford us!"
Mr. Youatt gives a remarkable illustration, also quoted by Mr. Jesse, of
a Newfoundland's apparent perception of danger of quite another sort.
Finding it inconvenient to keep this animal Mr. Youatt had given it to a
friend, and four years passed before the dog saw his late owner again,
when they met quite by chance, the two masters and the dog, on a lonely
road between Wandsworth and Kingston. The dog showed every sign of
pleasure at meeting his old master, but when they parted faithfully
followed the new. Mr. Youatt had not proceeded far, however, when he
discovered that the dog had rejoined him and was walking at his side,
growling and showing every sign of anger. Looking ahead he discovered
two men approaching him stealthily from behind the bushes that skirted
the road. "I can scarcely say," says Mr. Youatt, "what I felt; for
presently one of the scoundrels emerged from the bushes, not twenty
yards from me; but he no sooner saw my companion, and heard his
growling, the loudness and depth of which were fearfully increasing,
than he retreated, and I saw no more of him or of his associate. My
gallant defender accompanied me to the direction-post at the bottom of
the hill, and there, with many a mutual and honest greeting, we parted,
and he bounded away to overtake his rightful owner. We never met again;
but I need not say that I often thought of him with admiration and
gratitude."
The Newfoundland's Sense of Right and Wrong.
A number of well authenticated stories, seem to indicate a certain sense
of right and wrong as characteristic of the more intelligent dogs; of
course the idea of right and wrong being in the case of animals as in
the case of men, largely a matter of education. The Newfoundland dog
belonging to the Rev. J. Simpson of Potterow Church, Edinburgh, already
referred to, on one occasion detained a party of friends which had been
entertained by the servants during their master's absence at church, by
stationing himself in front of the hall door and preventing their egress
until the rev. gentleman's return. Another Newfoundland dog who belonged
to a grocer, and who had seen a porter hide money behind a heap of
rubbish in a stable,--money which he had surreptitiously abstracted from
the till,--followed an apprentice into the stable on the first
opportunity, and scratching away the rubbish exposed the money to view,
thus leading to the detection of the thief. It is of course easy to
claim too much for actions apparently so intelligent and in estimating
them coincidence has to be allowed for; but they are far too numerous to
be ignored in estimating canine character. An instance is recorded of a
quiet docile dog who refused to allow a visitor to leave a stable, when
it was discovered that the man had secreted a bridle in his pocket.
The Newfoundland's Fidelity.
Many illustrations might be given of the fidelity which the Newfoundland
shows in common with other dogs, but one or two must suffice. A story is
told of a dog who picked up a coin which his master had dropped from his
purse, and which he kept in his mouth all day, refusing food until his
master's return in the evening, when he laid it at his feet, and then
attacked his dinner voraciously; another of a dog who on being sent home
by his master with a key which he had inadvertently taken with him, was
attacked by a dog belonging to a butcher, but who declined the combat
until he had delivered the key, but immediately returned and attacking
the butcher's dog killed him. In the first case the dog suffered the
natural pangs of hunger rather than hazard his master's property, and in
the second he postponed the gratification of his natural feeling of
revenge until after the execution of his duty.
The Newfoundland under Training.
The tricks to which dogs can be trained, though often amusing enough,
have not the interest which attaches to the natural display of their
faculties, and yet of course there is plenty of scope for the trained
dog to supplement his culture by the exercise of his natural gifts, and
this he often does. Perhaps one of the most remarkable of trained
Newfoundland dogs, was the one possessed by Mr. McIntyre of Regent
Bridge, Edinburgh. This dog was trained to perform all kinds of tricks.
He would pick his master's hat out from a number of others of the same
kind, or indeed almost any article of his master's from a group of
similar articles. He would ring the bell to summon the servants, and if
there was no bell rope in the room, find and use the hand bell with
equal facility. A comb was hidden on the top of a mantel-piece in the
room, and the dog required to bring it, which he almost immediately did,
although in the search he found a number of articles also belonging to
his master, purposely strewed around, all of which he passed over, and
brought the identical comb which he was required to find, fully proving
that he was not guided by the sense of smell, but that he perfectly
understood what was spoken to him. One evening some gentlemen being in
company, one of them accidentally dropped a shilling on the floor,
which, after the most careful search, could not be found. Mr. M. seeing
his dog sitting in a corner, and looking as if quite unconscious of what
was passing, said to him, "Dandie, find us the shilling and you shall
have a biscuit." The dog immediately jumped upon the table and laid down
the shilling, which he had previously picked up without having been
perceived. Mr. M. having one evening supped with a friend, on his return
home could not find his boot-jack in the place where it usually lay. He
then said to his dog, "Dandie, I cannot find my boot-jack,--search for
it." The faithful animal, quite sensible of what had been said to him,
scratched at the room-door, which his master opened. Dandie proceeded to
a very distant part of the house, and returned carrying in his mouth the
boot-jack, which Mr. M. then recollected to have left that morning under
a sofa. A number of gentlemen, well acquainted with Dandie, were daily
in the habit of giving him a penny which he took to a baker's shop and
purchased bread for himself. One of these gentlemen, who lived in James'
Square, when passing was accosted by Dandie, in expectation of his usual
present. Mr. T. said to him, "I have not a penny with me to-day, but I
have one at home." Having returned to his house some time after, he
heard a noise at the door, which was opened by the servant, when in
sprang Dandie to receive his penny. In a frolic Mr. T. gave him a bad
one, which he, as usual, carried to the baker, who refused to take the
bad coin. He immediately returned to Mr. T.'s, scratched at the door,
and when the servant opened it, laid the penny down at her feet, and
walked off, seemingly with the greatest contempt. Although Dandie, in
general, made an immediate purchase of bread with the money which he
received, the following circumstance clearly demonstrates that he
possessed more prudent foresight than many who are reckoned rational
beings. One Sunday, when it was very unlikely that he could have
received a present of money, Dandie was observed to bring home a loaf.
Mr. M. being somewhat surprised at this, desired the servant to search
the room to see if any money could be found. While she was engaged in
this task, the dog seemed quite unconcerned till she approached the bed,
when he ran to her, and gently drew her back from it. Mr. M. then
secured the dog, which kept struggling and growling while the servant
went under the bed, where she found seven pence halfpenny under a bit of
cloth. From that time he never could endure the girl, and was frequently
observed to hide his money in a corner of a saw-pit, under the dust.
When Mr. M. had company, if he desired the dog to see any one of the
gentlemen home, he would walk with him till he reached his home, and
then return to his master, how great soever the distance might be. Many
other stories are told about Dandie but these must suffice. Of their
authenticity there seems little doubt; they were recorded by Captain
Brown during the lifetime of Dandie and his master.
The Sheep Dog.
The shepherd dog (_Canis domesticus_) rivals if not surpasses most other
dogs in intelligence, though his intelligence is less general and more
particular than that of other dogs, _i.e._, more special to his own
profession and probably more due to training and culture. The principle
of heredity operates conspicuously in the case of dogs, and shepherding
being one of the oldest occupations of man, the shepherd's dog has
probably been under culture for a longer period than any other,--hence
his proficiency in his work. Buffon credited him with being "the parent
stock of the whole species", and Colonel Smith with civilisation at a
very early period. "The sheep dog," says Colonel Smith, "is seldom two
feet high, but his make is muscular; the nose rather pointed; the ears
erect; and the colour of the hair black and fulvous; the fur is rather
long and rough. In great Britain, and more particularly in Scotland, the
colours are more mixed with shades of brown, and the ears are often
drooping at the tips. The sheep dog is not to be confused with the
drover or cattle dog, which is larger and still more rugged in coat, as
well as manners.
The Sheep Dog's Sagacity.