ANECDOTES ABOUT DOGS (_Continued_)
In Mr. 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 growl he 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 be pitied 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 the
river 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 other breeds, 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 all the 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, _but_
speak.
Buffon, the eminent French naturalist, says of the dog, "More docile
than man, more obedient than 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."
I think it was in May, 1881, I sustained one of my severest losses in
connection with dogs. I was at that time owner of a very well-known and
high class, all white, medium-sized Bull Bitch, which I called "Lady
Rozelle" (her portrait appears in one of the illustrations to this book,
as well as that of my Smooth Collie Bitch, "Lady Nellie," even more
celebrated in her own line) and had taken a great number of prizes at
all the leading shows. I was anxious to take just one more, the gold
medal of the Bull Dog Club. She had already taken both the bronze and
silver medals, and I then intended her to rest on her laurels, as I have
always endeavoured to let any of my great prize winners end their days
in peace and comfort, free from the fatigue and excitement of shows and
never like to see animals which have done good service for their owners,
hacked about in Variety and Selling classes, all over the country. The
weather when I travelled to Aldridge's, St. Martin's Lane, where the
Bull Dog Club's show was to be held, was very warm and sultry, and on
arrival at Paddington, I had her box put on the roof of a cab and run
over to the show, but on its being opened there, as it happened, by my
old friend, Mr. J. W. Berrie, then, as now, the president of the Bull
Dog Club, I think everyone present was horrified to find my beautiful
bitch actually stone dead, and from the appearance of the body, should
think the heat must have brought on an apoplectic seizure and death must
have been very sudden. Of course, as is usual in such cases, I had
someone at the time anxious to purchase her at, what was then thought, a
very long price, £250.
Dogs have played important parts in the superstitions of ages now
happily passed away. When the dog howled at the gate, it used to be
alleged that one of the family was to die. Old women suspected of being
witches because they were infirm and stricken with poverty were supposed
to always have either a cat or dog, said to be their "Familiar" and
through whom they could be enabled to commune with the Spirit of
Darkness. To meet a black dog on a dark or stormy night was deemed a
very unlucky sign; dogs were said to be possessed by evil spirits, and
to haunt the wicked and in more than one story the evil one himself has
been stated to have taken the form of the faithful friend and companion
of man. I will conclude these anecdotes about dogs with the following
excellent advice given by the late well-known sportsman, the Hon.
Grantley Berkeley, in the pages of "The Field," more than forty years
since: "Before you chastise a dog, be not only sure that he is in fault,
but also ascertain that he himself understands in what respect he has
done wrong. Take care not to punish him so severely that terror and pain
combined obliterate the why and the wherefore from the sufferer's
recollection, if you do, you cowe the dog, without amending his manners.
To teach tricks to dogs, (in the general way, and, unless they are dogs
belonging to those whose living is to be earned by the employment of
performing dogs,) either with cards, numbers, or letters, is infinitely
beneath a sportsman, as well as insulting to the useful and thinking
capabilities of the canine race!"