The Lapland Dog.
Clarke thus describes the Lapland dog:
"We had a valuable companion in a dog belonging to one of the boatmen. It was of the true Lapland breed, and in all respects similar to a wolf, excepting the tail, which was bushy and curled like those of the Pomeranian race. This dog, swimming after the boat, if his master merely waved his hand, would cross the lake as often as he pleased, carrying half his body and the whole of his head and tail out of the water. Wherever he landed, he scoured all the long grass by the side of the lake in search of wild-fowl, and came back to us, bringing wild-ducks in his mouth to the boat, and then, having delivered his prey to his master, he would instantly set off again in search of more."[3]
But we pass on to another and more valuable species of the dog:
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The sheep-dog possesses much of the same form and character in every country. The muzzle is sharp, the ears are short and erect, and the animal is covered, particularly about the neck, with thick and shaggy hair. He has usually two dew claws on each of the hind legs; not, however, as in the one claw of other dogs, having a jointed attachment to the limb, but merely connected by the skin and some slight cellular substance. These excrescences should be cut off when the dog is young. The tail is slightly turned upwards and long, and almost as bushy as that of a fox, even in that variety whose coat is almost smooth. He is of a black colour or black prevails, mixed with gray or brown.
Grognier gives the following account of this dog as he is found in France:
"The shepherd's dog, the least removed from the natural type of the dog, is of a middle size; his ears short and straight; the hair long, principally on the tail, and of a dark colour; the tail is carried horizontally or a little elevated. He is very indifferent to caresses. possessed of much intelligence and activity to discharge the duties for which he was designed. In one or other of its varieties it is found in every part of France. Sometimes there is but a single breed, in others there are several varieties. It lives and maintains its proper characteristics, while other races often degenerate. Everywhere it preserves its proper distinguishing type. It is the servant of man, while other breeds vary with a thousand circumstances. It has one appropriate mission, and that it discharges in the most admirable way: there is evidently a kind and wise design in this."
This account of the French sheep-dog, or of the sheep-dog everywhere, is as true as it is beautiful. One age succeeds to another, we pass from one climate to another, and everything varies and changes, but the shepherd's dog is what he ever was — the guardian of our flocks.
are, however, two or more species of this dog; the one which Professor Grognier has described, and which guards and guides the sheep in the open and level country, where wolves seldom intrude; another crossed with the mastiff, or little removed from that dog, used in the woody and mountainous countries, their guard more than their guide
. In Great Britain, where he has principally to guide and not to guard the flock, he is comparatively a small dog. He is so in the northern and open parts of the country, where activity is principally wanted; but, in the more enclosed districts, and where strength is often needed to turn an obstinate sheep, he is crossed with some larger dog, as the rough terrier, or sometimes the pointer, or now and then the bull-dog: in fact, almost any variety that has strength and stoutness may be employed. Thus we obtain the larger sheep-dog and the drover's dog. The sagacity, forbearance, and kindness of the sheep-dog are generally retained, but from these crosses there is occasionally a degree of ferocity from which the sheep often suffer.
In other countries, where the flock is exposed to the attack of the wolf, the sheep-dog is larger than the British drover's dog, and not far inferior in size to the mastiff. The strength and ferocity which qualify him to combat with the wolf, would occasionally be injurious or fatal to those who somewhat obstinately opposed his direction; therefore, in Denmark and in Spain, the dog is rarely employed to drive the flock. It is the office of the shepherd, to know every individual under his charge, to, as in olden times, "call them all by their names," and have always some docile and tamed wether who will take the lead, almost as subservient to his voice as is the dog himself, and whom the flock will immediately follow.
In whatever country the dog is used, partly or principally to protect the flock from the ravages of the wolf, he is as gentle as a lamb, except when opposed to his natural enemy; and it is only in England that the guardian of the sheep occasionally injures and worries them, and that many can be found bearing the mark of the tooth. This may he somewhat excusable (although it is often carried to a barbarous extent) in the drover's dog; but it will admit of no apology in the shepherd's dog. It is the result of the idleness of the boy, or the mingled brutality and idleness of the shepherd, who is attempting to make the dog do his own work and that of his master too. We have admired the Prussian sheep-dog in the discharge of his duty, and have seen him pick out the marked sheep, or stop and turn the flock, as cleverly as any Highland colley, but he never bit them. He is a shorter, stronger, and more compact dog than ours. He pushes against them and forces them along. If they rebel against this mild treatment, the shepherd is at hand to enforce obedience; and the flock is as easily and perfectly managed as any English or Highland one, and a great deal more so than the majority that we have seen.
. Trimmer, in his work on the Merinos, speaking of the Spanish flocks, says:
"There is no driving of the flock; that is a practice entirely unknown; but the shepherd, when he wishes to remove his sheep, calls to him a tame wether accustomed to feed from his hands. The favourite, however distant, obeys his call, and the rest follow. One or more of the dogs, with large collars armed with spikes, in order to protect them from the wolves, precede the flock, others skirt it on each side, and some bring up the rear. If a sheep be ill or lame, or lag behind unobserved by the shepherds, they stay with it and defend it until some one return in search of it. With us, dogs are too often used for other and worse purposes. In open, unenclosed districts, they are indispensable; but in others I wish them, I confess, either managed, or encouraged less. If a sheep commits a fault in the sight of an intemperate shepherd, or accidentally offends him, it is dogged into obedience: the signal is given, the dog obeys the mandate, and the poor sheep flies round the field to escape from the fangs of him who should be his protector, until it becomes half dead with fright and exhaustion, while the trembling flock crowd together dreading the same fate, and the churl exults in this cowardly victory over a weak and defenceless animal."[5]
If the farmer will seriously calculate the number of ewes that have yeaned before their time, and of the lambs that he has lost, and the accidents that have occurred from the sheep pressing upon one another in order to escape from the dog, and if he will also take into account the continual disturbance of the sheep while grazing, by the approach of the dog, and the consequent interference with the cropping and the digestion of the food, he will attach more importance to the good temper of the dog and of the shepherd than he has been accustomed to do. There would be no injustice, or rather a great deal of propriety, in inflicting a fine for every tooth-mark that could be detected. When the sheep, instead of collecting round the dog, and placing themselves under his protection on any sudden alarm, uniformly fly from him with terror, the farmer may he assured there is something radically wrong in the management of the flock.
Instinct and education combine to fit this dog for our service. The pointer will act without any great degree of instruction, and the setter will crouch; and most certainly the sheep-dog, and especially if he has the example of an older and expert one, will, almost without the teaching of the master, become everything that can be wished, obedient to every order, even to the slightest motion of the hand. There is a natural predisposition for the office he has to discharge, which it requires little trouble or skill to develop and perfect.
It is no unpleasing employment to study the degree in which the several breeds of dogs are not only highly intelligent, but fitted by nature for the particular duty they have to perform. The pointer, the setter, the hound, the greyhound, the terrier, the spaniel, and even the bull-dog, were made, and almost perfected, by nature chiefly for one office alone, although they maybe useful in many other ways. This is well illustrated in the sheep-dog. If he be but with his master, he lies content, indifferent to every surrounding object, seemingly half asleep and half awake, rarely mingling with his kind, rarely courting, and generally shrinking from, the notice of a stranger; but the moment duty calls, his sleepy, listless eye, becomes brightened; he eagerly gazes on his master, inquires and comprehends all he is to do, and, springing up, gives himself to the discharge of his duty with a sagacity, and fidelity, and devotion, too rarely equalled even by man himself.
. James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, living in his early days among the sheep and their quadruped attendants, and an accurate observer of nature, as well an exquisite poet, gives some anecdotes of the colley, (the Highland term for sheep-dog), with which the reader will not be displeased.
"My dog Sirrah," says he, in a letter to the Editor of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, "was, beyond all comparison, the best dog I ever saw. He had a somewhat surly and unsocial temper, disdaining all flattery, and refusing to be caressed, but his attention to my commands and interest will never again be equalled by any of the canine race. When I first saw him, a drover was leading him with a rope. He was both lean and hungry, and far from being a beautiful animal; for he was almost black, and had a grim face, striped with dark brown. I thought I perceived a sort of sullen intelligence in his countenance, notwithstanding his dejected and forlorn appearance, and I bought him. He was scarcely a year old, and knew so little of herding that he had never turned a sheep in his life; but, as soon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obliged me, I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his different evolutions; and when I once made him understand a direction, he never forgot or mistook it."
On one night, a large flock of lambs that were under the Ettrick Shepherd's care, frightened by something, scampered away in three different directions across the hills, in spite of all that he could do to keep them together. "Sirrah," said the shepherd, "they're a' awa!"
It was too dark for the dog and his master to see each other at any considerable distance, but Sirrah understood him, and set off after the fugitives. The night passed on, and Hogg and his assistant traversed every neighbouring hill in anxious but fruitless search for the lambs; but he could hear nothing of them nor of the dog, and he was returning to his master with the doleful intelligence that he had lost all his lambs. "On our way home, however," says he, "we discovered a lot of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine called the Flesh Cleuch, and the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front of them, looking round for some relief, but still true to his charge. We concluded that it was one of the divisions which Sirrah had been unable to manage, until he came to that commanding situation. But what was our astonishment when we discovered that not one lamb of the flock was missing! How he had got all the divisions collected in the dark, is beyond my comprehension. The charge was left entirely to himself from midnight until the rising sun; and, if all the shepherds in the forest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have effected it with greater promptitude. All that I can say is, that I never felt so grateful to any creature under the sun us I did to my honest Sirrah that morning."
| [A] shepherd, in one of his excursions over the Grampian Hills to collect his scattered flock, took with him (as is a frequent practice, to initiate them in their future business) one of his children about four years old. After traversing his pastures for a while, attended by his dog, he was compelled to ascend a summit at some distance. As the ascent was too great for the child, he left him at the bottom, with strict injunctions not to move from the place. Scarcely, however, had he gained the height, when one of the Scotch mists, of frequent occurrence, suddenly came on, and almost changed the day to night. He returned to seek his child, but was unable to find him, and concluded a long and fruitless search by coming distracted to his cottage. His poor dog also was missing in the general confusion. On the next morning by daylight he renewed his search, but again he came back without his child. He found, however, that during his absence his dog had been home, and, on receiving his allowance of food, instantly departed. For four successive days the shepherd continued his search with the same bad fortune, the dog as readily coming for his meal and departing. |
Struck by this singular circumstance, he determined to follow the dog, who departed as usual with his piece of cake. The animal led the way to a cataract at some distance from the spot where the child had been left. It was a rugged and almost perpendicular descent which the dog took, and he disappeared in a cave, the mouth of which was almost on a level with the torrent. The shepherd with difficulty followed; but, on entering the cavern, what were his emotions when he beheld the infant eating the cake which the dog had just brought to him, while the faithful animal stood by, eyeing his young charge with the utmost complacency! From the situation in which the child was found, it appeared that he had wandered to the brink of the precipice, and then either fallen or scrambled down, the torrent preventing his re-ascent. The dog by means of his scent had traced him to the spot, and afterwards prevented him from starving by giving up a part, or, perhaps, the whole of his own daily allowance. He appears never to have quitted the child night or day, except for food, as he was seen running at full speed to and from the cottage
.
. Hogg says, and very truly, that a single shepherd and his dog will accomplish more in gathering a flock of sheep from a Highland farm than twenty shepherds could do without dogs; in fact, that without this docile animal, the pastoral life would be a mere blank. It would require more hands to manage a flock of sheep, gather them from the hills, force them into houses and folds, and drive them to markets, than the profits of the whole flock would be capable of maintaining. Well may the shepherd feel an interest in his dog; he it is indeed that earns the family bread, of which he is himself content with the smallest morsel: always grateful, and always ready to exert his utmost abilities in his master's interests. Neither hunger, fatigue, nor the worst treatment will drive him from his side, and he will follow him through every hardship without murmur or repining. If one of them is obliged to change masters, it is sometimes long before he will acknowledge the new owner, or condescend to work for him with the willingness that he did for his former lord; but, if he once acknowledges him, he continues attached to him until death
.
will add another story of the colley, and proceed. It illustrates the memory of the dog. A shepherd was employed in bringing up some mountain sheep from Westmoreland, and took with him a young sheep-dog who had never made the journey before. From his assistant being ignorant of the ground, he experienced great difficulty in having the flock stopped at the various roads and lanes he passed in their way to the neighbourhood of London.
In the next year the same shepherd, accompanied by the same dog, brought up another flock for the gentlemen who had had the former one. On being questioned how he had got on, he said much better than the year before, as his dog now knew the road, and had kept the sheep from going up any of the lanes or turnings that had given the shepherd so much trouble on his former journey. The distance could not have been less than 400 miles
.
gives an eloquent and faithful account of the sheep-dog:
"This animal, faithful to man, will always preserve a portion of his empire and a degree of superiority over other beings. He reigns at the head of his flock, and makes himself better understood than the voice of the shepherd. Safety, order, and discipline are the fruits of his vigilance and activity. They are a people submitted to his management, whom he conducts and protects, and against whom he never employs force but for the preservation of good order."
"If we consider that this animal, notwithstanding his ugliness and his wild and melancholy look, is superior in instinct to all others; that he has a decided character in which education has comparatively little share; that he is the only animal born perfectly trained for the service of others; that, guided by natural powers alone, he applies himself to the care of our flocks, a duty which he executes with singular assiduity, vigilance, and fidelity; that he conducts them with an admirable intelligence which is a part and portion of himself; that his sagacity astonishes at the same time that it gives repose to his master, while it requires great time and trouble to instruct other dogs for the purposes to which they are destined: if we reflect on these facts we shall be confirmed in the opinion that the shepherd's dog is the true dog of nature, the stock and model of the whole species."[9]
After [reading] the above history of this truly valuable dog, it is almost superfluous for us to attempt to add anything more on this head; however, we must pause for a few moments, to call the attention of our agriculturists and others engaged in raising sheep, to the immense advantages to be derived from the introduction of this sagacious animal throughout our own country.
The increased vigour that is now given for the cultivation of sheep, to supply the necessary demands of the numerous woollen factories springing up in every quarter, renders the services of this faithful creature absolutely indispensable, not only as a guardian of the flocks, but as a mere expedient of economy.
Many portions of our country, now lying idle, particularly the mountainous ranges, are peculiarly adapted for the grazing of sheep, and we are destined not only to supply the world with cotton, but may hope ere long to add to our national wealth the other equally valuable staple commodity, that of wool.
[In] the care of sheep, each dog not only supplies the place of two or three men, but, as is seen in the foregoing pages, renders such assistance as cannot be obtained from any other source.
The shepherds of Mexico lead a life not unlike the patriarchs of old, shifting about from day to day, watching their immense flocks, attended only by a few dogs, who have the entire control of the sheep, keeping them from straying away, and not only defending them from the blood-thirsty wolf, but even attacking, if necessary, the skulking savage.
These dogs of Mexico are represented as being much larger than the English variety, and no doubt are the descendants of the Spanish shepherd dog, so highly prized in protecting the Merino flocks from the wolves that infest the mountainous parts of Spain, most frequented by the herds during the summer season.
These dogs are the same breed as those engaged by the philanthropic monks of St. Bernard in hunting up the benumbed traveller when sinking from exhaustion, or already overwhelmed by the sudden rushing of an avalanche into some one of the mountain passes.
The original Spanish shepherd dog is a very powerful animal, and even those of Mexico, when armed with spiked collars, are a sufficient match for the largest wolves. Mr. Kendall mentions having met on the grand prairie with a flock of sheep numbering seventeen thousand, which immense herd was guarded by a very few men, assisted by a large number of noble dogs, which appeared gifted with the faculty of keeping them together.
"There was no running about, no barking or biting in their system of tactics; on the contrary, they were continually walking up and down, like faithful sentinels, on the outer side of the flock, and should any sheep chance to stray from his fellows, the dog on duty at that particular post would walk gently up, take him carefully by the ear, and lead him back to the fold. Not the least fear did the sheep manifest at the approach of these dogs, and there was no occasion for it."
(Vol. I. p. 268.)
This account coincides with the remarks of Mr. Trinner upon this dog in old Spain; and Mr. Skinner very justly remarks, that the Mexican sheep-dog has not his equal in any part of the world, except, perhaps, in his native country, and that the Scotch or English dog sinks into insignificance when compared with him.
A flock of a thousand sheep in Spain requires the attendance of two men and an equal number of dogs, who never for a moment quit their charge, watching them without intermission day and night. The great inferiority of the English dogs, may be attributed, perhaps, to their want of care in training and bringing up, which is considered the most essential, and actually the foundation of all their future usefulness with the Mexicans. The pups when first born, are taken from the bitch, and put to a sucking ewe, already deprived of her own lamb. For several days the ewe is confined with the pups in the shepherd's hut, and either from force, or an instinctive desire to be relieved of the contents of the udder, she soon allows the little strangers to suck, and in the course of a few days more, becomes quite reconciled to the change, and exhibits a great degree of affection for her foster children, who, knowing no other parentage, becomes thus early engrafted into the general community, and returns their early kindness by every mark of affection and fidelity hereafter; never being willing for a moment to quit their society, but remains with them night and day, expressing a peculiar attachment to this particular flock, and seeming able to distinguish each member of it from all other intruders.
In the third volume of the American Agriculturist will be found an interesting article connected with this subject, and from which we might extract much useful information, if our limits would allow of its insertion in the present volume.
Mr. [Skinner] states, that in 1832 he had two of these dogs, a male and female, both trained, but unfortunately lost the latter before obtaining any pups from her; he also remarks, that they can be imported via Havana and Santander, at an expense of not less than $70 or $80. We see no reason why the same dogs might not be obtained at a much less cost by the Santa Fé traders, who, no doubt, would be glad to bring them into the country as companions de voyages, provided there was any demand for them. — L.
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