The Bull Terrier.
This dog is a cross between the bull-dog and the terrier, and is generally superior, both in appearance and value, to either of its progenitors. A second cross considerably lessens the underhanging of the lower jaw, and a third entirely removes it, retaining the spirit and determination of the animal. It forms a steadier friendship than either of them, and the principal objection to it is its love of wanton mischief, and the dangerous irascibility which it occasionally exhibits.
Walter Scott, a warm friend of dogs, and whose veracity cannot be impeached, gives an interesting account of a favourite one belonging to him.
"The cleverest dog I ever had was what is called a bull-dog terrier. I taught him to understand a great many words, insomuch that I am positive the communication between the canine species and ourselves might be greatly enlarged. Camp, the name of my dog, once bit the baker when bringing bread to the family. I beat him, and explained the enormity of the offence; after which, to the last moment of his life, he never heard the least allusion to the story without creeping into the darkest corner of the room. Towards the end of his life when he was unable to attend me while I was on horseback, he generally watched for my return, and, when the servant used to tell him, his master was coming down the hill, or through the moor, although he did not use any gesture to explain his meaning, Camp was never known to mistake him, but either went out at the front to go up the hill, or at the back to get down to the moor-side."
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Brown states that,
"notwithstanding his commanding appearance and the strictness with which he guards the property of his master, he is possessed of the greatest mildness of conduct, and is as grateful for any favours bestowed upon him as is the most diminutive of the canine tribe. There is a remarkable and peculiar warmth in his attachments. He is aware of all the duties required of him, and he punctually discharges them. In the course of the night he several times examines every thing with which he is intrusted with the most scrupulous care, and, by repeated barkings, warns the household or the depredator that he is at the post of duty."[1]
mastiff from Cuba requires some mention, and will call up some of the most painful recollections in the history of the human race. He was not a native of Cuba, but imported into the country.
The Spaniards had possessed themselves of several of the South American islands. They found them peopled with Indians, and those of a sensual, brutish, and barbarous class — continually making war with their neighbours, indulging in an irreconcilable hatred of the Spaniards, and determined to expel and destroy them. In self-defence, they were driven to some means of averting the destruction with which they were threatened. They procured some of these mastiffs, by whose assistance they penetrated into every part of the country, and destroyed the greater portion of the former inhabitants.
Las Casas, a Catholic priest, and whose life was employed in endeavouring to mitigate the sufferings of the original inhabitants, says that
"it was resolved to march against the Indians, who had fled to the mountains, and they were chased like wild beasts, with the assistance of bloodhounds, who had been trained to a thirst for human blood, so that before I had left the island it had become almost entirely a desert."
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