The Turkish Dog,
as it is improperly called, is a native of hot climates. The supposition of Buffon is not an improbable one, that, being taken from some temperate country to one considerable hotter, the European dog probably acquired some cutaneous disease. This is no uncommon occurrence in Guinea, the East Indies, and South America. Some of these animals afterwards found their way into Europe, and, from their singularity, care was taken to multiply the breed. Aldrovandus states that the first two of them made their appearance in Europe in his time, but the breed was not continued, on account, as it was supposed, of the climate being too cold for them.
The few that are occasionally seen in England bear about them every mark of a degenerated race. They have no activity, and they show little intelligence or affection. One singular circumstance appertains to all that the author of this work has had the opportunity of seeing, — their teeth become very early diseased, and drop from the gums. That eminent zoologist, Mr. Yarrell, examining, with the author of this work, one that had died, certainly not more than five years old, found that it had neither incisors nor canine teeth, and that the molars were reduced to one on each side, the large tubercular tooth being the only one that was remaining. At the scientific meeting of the Zoological Society, the same gentleman stated, that he had examined the mouths of two individuals of the same variety, then alive at the gardens, in both of which the teeth were remarkably deficient. In neither of them were there any false molars, and the incisors in both were deficient in number. Before the age of four years the tongue is usually disgustingly hanging from the mouths of these animals.
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Fatal slumbers, which he cannot shake off, steal upon him, and he crouches under some ledge and sleeps, to wake no more. The snow drifts on. It is almost continually falling, and he is soon concealed from all human help.
On the top of Mount St. Bernard, and near one of the most dangerous of these passes, is a convent, in which is preserved a breed of large dogs trained to search for the benighted and frozen wanderer. Every night, and particularly when the wind blows tempestuously, some of these dogs are sent out. They traverse every path about the mountains, and their scent is so exquisite that they can discover the traveller, although he may lie many feet deep in the snow. Having found him, they set to work and endeavour to scrape away the snow, uttering a deep bark that reverberates from rock to rock, and tells those who are watching in the convent that some poor wretch is in peril. Generally, a little flask of spirits is tied round the neck of the animal, by drinking which the benighted traveller may recruit his strength, until more effectual rescue arrive. The monks hasten in the direction of the sound, and often succeed in rekindling the vital spark before it is quite extinguished. Very many travellers have been thus rescued from death by these benevolent men and their intelligent and interesting quadruped servants.
of these Bernardine dogs, named Barry, had a medal tied round his neck as a badge of honourable distinction, for he had saved the lives of forty persons. He at length died nobly in his vocation. A Piedmontese courier arrived at St. Bernard on a very stormy day, labouring to make his way to the little village of St. Pierre, in the valley beneath the mountain, where his wife and children lived. It was in vain that the monks attempted to check his resolution to reach his family. They at last gave him two guides, each of whom was accompanied by a dog, one of which was the remarkable creature whose service had been so valuable. Descending from the convent, they were overwhelmed by two avalanches or heaps of falling snow, and the same destruction awaited the family of the poor courier, who were travelling up the mountain in the hope of obtaining some news of the husband and father.
A beautiful engraving has been made of this noble dog. It represents him as saving a child which he had found in the Glacier of Balsore, and cherished, and warmed, and induced to climb on his shoulders, and thus preserved from, otherwise, certain destruction.
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. Macgregor, however, states that
"in almost every other part of British America they are valuable and useful. They are remarkably docile and obedient to their masters, serviceable in all the fishing countries, and yoked in pairs to draw the winter's fuel home. They are faithful, good-natured, and ever friendly to man. They will defend their master and their master's property, and suffer no person to injure either the one or the other; and, however extreme may be the danger, they will not leave them for a minute. They seem only to want the faculty of speech, in order to make their good wishes and feelings understood, and they are capable of being trained for all the purposes for which every other variety of the canine species is used."[1]
That which most recommends the Newfoundland dog is his fearlessness of water, and particularly as connected with the preservation of human life. The writer of the present work knows one of these animals that has preserved from drowning four human beings.
[This] breed of dog, though much esteemed both in England and other portions of the world, as well for his majestic appearance as for many useful and winning traits of character, has but few sportsmen as patrons with us. He is not only used in England as a water-dog for the pursuit of wild fowl, but has been trained by many sportsmen to hunt on partridges, woodcocks, and pheasants, and is represented by Captain Hawker and others as surpassing all others of the canine race, in finding wounded game of every description.
Mr. Blaine remarks that,
"as a retriever, the Newfoundland dog is easily brought to do almost anything that is required of him, and he is so tractable, likewise, that, with the least possible trouble, he may be safely taken among pointers to the field, with whose province he will not interfere, but will be overjoyed to be allowed to look up the wounded game, which he will do with a perseverance that no speed and no distance can slacken, nor any hedge-row baulk. In cover he is very useful; some, indeed, shoot woodcocks to a Newfoundland, and he never shines more than when he is returning with a woodcock, pheasant, or hare, in his mouth, which he yields up, or even puts into your hand unmutilated."
Notwithstanding the high commendations of these gentlemen, we cannot look upon the Newfoundland in any other light than that of a dog, whose powers of sagacity are destined for display in the water.
In contending with this element, either in the preservation of human life, or in search of wounded fowl, he has no equal, and volumes might be filled with accounts of his various daring achievements in this particular branch, not only in England, but on the rivers of our own country. Mr. Blaine mentions two varieties of these dogs as being common in England, the Labrador and St. John. The former is very large, rough-haired, and carries his tail very high; the latter is smaller, more docile, and sagacious in the extreme, and withal much more manageable. We were not aware of these varieties, and more particularly as regards the difference in docility and sagacity, but are convinced, from subsequent observations, that such is the case even in our own country, for we have often noticed a great dissimilarity in the size and appearance of these dogs and attributed it to the effects of the climate and cross breeding with inferior animals. We are [indebted] to Mr. Skinner for bringing before the public a faithful and minute account of two of these animals imported into this country by Mr. Law, of Baltimore, and may be pardoned for giving again publicity to this gentleman's letter in relation to these two sagacious brutes.
Baltimore, Maryland, January 7th, 1845. "My Dear Sir: — In the fall of 1807 I was on board of the ship Canton, belonging to my uncle, the late Hugh Thompson, of Baltimore, when we fell in, at sea, near the termination of a very heavy equinoctial gale, with an English brig in a sinking condition, and took off the crew. The brig was loaded with codfish, and was bound to Poole, in England, from Newfoundland. I boarded her, in command of a boat from the Canton, which was sent to take off the English crew, the brig's own boats having been all swept away, and her crew in a state of intoxication. I found on board of her two Newfoundland pups, male and female, which I saved, and, subsequently, on our landing the English crew at Norfolk, our own destination being Baltimore, I purchased these two pups of the English captain for a guinea a-piece. Being bound again to sea, I gave the dog-pup, which was called Sailor, to Mr. John Mercer, of West River; and the slut-pup, which was called Canton, to Doctor James Stewart, of Sparrow's Point. The history which the English captain gave me of these pups was, that the owner of his brig was extensively engaged in the Newfoundland trade, and had directed his correspondent to select and send him a pair of pups of the most approved Newfoundland breed, but of different families, and that the pair I purchased of him were selected under this order. The dog was of a dingy red colour, and the slut black. They were not large; their hair was short, but very thick coated; they had dew claws. Both attained great reputation as water-dogs. They were most sagacious in everything, particularly so in all duties connected with duck-shooting. Governor Lloyd exchanged a Mexican ram for the dog at the time of the merino fever, when such rams were selling for many hundred dollars, and took him over to his estate on the eastern shore of Maryland, where his progeny were well known for many years after, and may still he known there, and on the western shore, as the Sailor breed. The slut remained at Sparrow's Point till her death, and her progeny were, and are still, well known through Patapsco Neck, on the Gunpowder, and up the bay, amongst the duck-shooters, as unsurpassed for their purposes. I have heard both Doctor Stewart and Mr. Mercer relate most extraordinary instances of the sagacity and performances of both dog and slut, and would refer you to their friends for such particulars as I am unable, at this distance of time, to recollect with sufficient accuracy to repeat.
Yours, in haste,
George Law."
These dogs are represented as being of fine carriage, broad-chested, compact figure, and in every respect built for strength and activity.
Their patience and endurance were very great when pursuing wounded ducks through the floating ice, and when fatigued from extraordinary exertions were known to rest themselves upon broken portions of ice till sufficiently recovered again to commence the chase. We have seen some of the descendants of these sagacious animals on the Chesapeake, engaged, not only in bringing the ducks from the water when shot, but also toling them into shore within range of the murderous batteries concealed behind the blind.
[This] may not be an inappropriate place to speak of this wonderful mode of decoying ducks, termed toling, so extensively practised upon the Chesapeake bay and its tributaries, where the canvass-back and red-heads resort in such numerous quantities every fall. A species of mongrel water-dog, or often any common cur, is taught to run backwards and forwards after stones, sticks, or other missiles thrown from one side to the other. In his activity and industry in this simple branch of education, within the comprehension of any dog, consists the almost incredible art of toling the canvass-back.
With a dog of this character, the shooting party, consisting of several persons all prepared with heavy double-barrelled duck-guns, ensconce themselves at break of day behind some one of the numerous blinds temporarily erected along the shore contiguous to the feeding-grounds of these ducks. Everything being arranged, and the morning mists cleared off, the ducks will be seen securely feeding on the shallows not less than several hundreds of yards from the shore. The dog is now put in motion by throwing stones from one side of the blind to the other. This will soon be perceived by the ducks, who, stimulated by an extreme degree of curiosity, and feeling anxious to inform themselves as to this sudden and singular phenomenon, raise their heads high in the water and commence swimming for the shore. The dog being kept in motion, the ducks will not arrest their progress until within a few feet of the water's edge, and oftentimes will stand on the shore staring, as it were, in mute and silly astonishment at the playful motions of the dog. If well trained the dog takes no notice whatever of the duck, but continues his fascination until the quick report of the battery announces to him that his services are now wanted in another quarter, and he immediately rushes into the water to arrest the flight of the maimed and wounded, who, struggling on every side, dye the water with their rich blood. The discovery of this mode of decoying ducks was quite an accident, being attributed to a circumstance noticed by a sportsman, who, concealed behind a blind patiently awaiting the near approach of the canvass-back, observed that they suddenly lifted up their heads and moved towards the shore. Wondering at this singular and unusual procedure on the part of this wray bird, he naturally looked round to discover the cause, and observed a young fox sporting upon the river bank, and the ducks, all eagerness to gaze upon him, were steering their course directly for the shore.
These ducks will not only be decoyed by the dog, but will often come in by waving a fancy coloured handkerchief attached to the ramrod. We have seen a dog fail to attract their attention till bound around the loins with a white handkerchief, and then succeed perfectly well. The toling season continues about three weeks from the first appearance of the ducks, often a much shorter time, as these birds become more cautious, and are no longer deceived in this way.
The canvass-back toles better than any other duck; in fact, it is asserted by many sportsmen, that this particular variety alone can be decoyed in this mode. There are always numbers of other ducks feeding with the canvass-back, particularly the red-heads and black-necks, who partake of the top of the grass that the canvas-back discards after eating off the root, which is a kind of celery. These ducks, though they come in with the canvass-back when toled, do not seem to take any notice whatever of the dog, but continue to swim along, carelessly feeding, as if entrusting themselves entirely to the guidance of the other ducks.
As far as we have been able to judge, we are inclined to this opinion also, and do not recollect ever having succeeded in toling any other species of duck, unaccompanied by the canvass-back, although we have made the effort many times. These ducks are a very singular bird, and although very cunning under ordinary circumstances, seem perfectly bewildered upon this subject, as we were one of a party several years since, who actually succeeded in decoying the same batch of ducks three successive times in the course of an hour, and slaying at each fire a large number, as we counted out over forty at the conclusion of the sport. Although the toling of ducks is so simple in its process, there are few dogs that have sufficient industry and perseverance to arrive at any degree of perfection in the art. The dog, if not possessed of some sagacity and considerable training, is very apt to tire and stop running when the ducks have got near to the shore, but too far to be reached by the guns, which spoils all, as the birds are very apt to swim or fly off if the motion of the animal is arrested for a few moments. — L.
A native of Germany was travelling one evening on foot through Holland, accompanied by a large dog. Walking on a high bank which formed one side of a dyke, his foot slipped, and he was precipitated into the water; and, being unable to swim, soon became senseless. When he recovered his recollection, he found himself in a cottage on the contrary side of the dyke, surrounded by peasants, who had been using the means for the recovery of drowned persons. The account given by one of them was, that, returning home from his labour, he observed at a considerable distance a large dog in the water, swimming and dragging, and sometimes pushing along something that he seemed to have great difficulty in supporting, but which he at length succeeded in getting into a small creek on the opposite side. When the animal had pulled what he had hitherto supported as far out of the water as he was able, the peasant discovered that it was the body of a man, whose face and hands the dog was industriously licking. The peasant hastened to a bridge across the dyke, and, having obtained assistance, the body was conveyed to a neighbouring house, where proper means soon restored the drowned man to life. Two very considerable bruises, with the marks of teeth, appeared, one on his shoulder and the other on his poll; hence it was presumed that the faithful beast had first seized his master by the shoulder, and swam with him in this manner for some time, but that his sagacity had prompted him to quit this hold, and to shift it to the nape of the neck, by which he had been enabled to support the head out of water; and in this way he had conveyed him nearly a quarter of a mile before he had brought him to the creek, where the banks were low and accessible.
Dr. Beattie relates an instance of a gentleman attempting to cross the river Dee, then frozen over, near Aberdeen. The ice gave way about the middle of the river; but, having a gun in his hand, he supported himself by placing it across the opening. His dog then ran to a neighbouring village, where, with the most significant gestures, he pulled a man by the coat, and prevailed on him to follow him. They arrived at the spot just in time to save the drowning man's life.
Of the noble disposition of the Newfoundland dog, Dr. Abel, in one of his lectures on Phrenology, relates a singular instance.
"When this dog left his master's house, he was often assailed by a number of little noisy dogs in the street. He usually passed them with apparent unconcern, as if they were beneath his notice; but one little cur was particularly troublesome, and at length carried his impudence so far as to bite the Newfoundland dog in the leg. This was a degree of wanton insult beyond what he could patiently endure; and he instantly turned round, ran after the offender, and seized him by the skin of the back. In this way he carried him in his mouth to the quay, and, holding him some time over the water, at length dropped him into it. He did not, however, seem to design that the culprit should be punished capitally. He waited a little while, until the poor animal, who was unused to that element, was not only well ducked, but nearly sinking, and then plunged in, and brought him safe to land."
"It would be difficult," says Dr. Hancock, in his Essay on Instinct, "to conceive any punishment more aptly contrived or more completely in character. Indeed, if it were fully analyzed, an ample commentary might be written in order to show what a variety of comparisons and motives and generous feelings entered into the composition of this act."
No one ever drew more legitimate consequence from certain existing premises.
One other story should not be omitted of this noble breed of water-dogs. A vessel was driven on the beach of Lydd, in Kent. The surf was rolling furiously. Eight poor fellows were crying for help, but not a boat could be got off to their assistance. At length a gentleman came on the beach accompanied by his Newfoundland dog: he directed the attention of the animal to the vessel, and put a short stick into his mouth. The intelligent and courageous fellow at once understood his meaning, sprung into the sea, and fought his way through the waves. He could not, however, get close enough to the vessel to deliver that with which he was charged; but the crew understood what was meant, and they made fast a rope to another piece of wood, and threw it towards him. The noble beast dropped his own piece of wood and immediately seized that which had been cast to him, and then, with a degree of strength and determination scarcely credible, — for he was again and again lost under the waves, — he dragged it through the surge and delivered it to his master. A line of communication was thus formed, and every man on board was rescued.
There is, however, a more remarkable fact recorded in the
Penny Magazine.
"During a heavy gale a ship had struck on a rock near the land. The only chance of escape for the shipwrecked was to get a rope ashore; for it was impossible for any boat to live in the sea as it was then running. There were two Newfoundland dogs and a bull-dog on board. One of the Newfoundland dogs was thrown overboard, with a rope thrown round him, and perished in the waves. The second shared a similar fate: but the bull-dog fought his way through that terrible sea, and, arriving safe onshore, rope and all, became the saviour of the crew."
of the true Newfoundland dogs have been brought to Europe and have been used as retrievers. They are principally valuable for the fearless manner in which they will penetrate the thickest cover. They are comparatively small, but muscular, strong, and generally black. A larger variety has been bred, and is now perfectly established. He is seldom used as a sporting dog, or for draught, but is admired on account of his stature and beauty, and the different colours with which he is often marked. Perhaps he is not quite so good-natured and manageable as the smaller variety, and yet it is not often that much fault can be found with him on this account.
A noble animal of this kind was presented to the Zoological Society by His Royal Highness Prince Albert. He is a great ornament to the gardens; but he had been somewhat unmanageable, and had done some mischief before he was sent thither.
A portion of Lord Byron's beautiful epitaph on the death of his Newfoundland dog will properly close our account of this animal:
"The poor dog! In life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend;
Whose honest heart is still his master's own;
Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone."
Notwithstanding the many excellent qualities so conspicuous in this noble breed of dog, he is said to possess one most ungenerous trait of character, "a peculiar antipathy to sheep," and if not early trained to endure their presence, will take every opportunity to destroy these innocent animals.
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Capt. Lyon states that they are very similar in appearance to the shepherd dog of England, but more muscular and broad chested, owing to severe work; ears pointed, of a savage appearance; the finer dogs are equal to the Newfoundland breed in point of height and general symmetry.
It is also somewhat curious to be informed that these dogs have no particular season of œ strum, but bear young indiscriminately at all times of the year, cold or warm, having very little or no effect upon their reproductive powers, being often seen in heat during the month of December when the thermometer was forty degrees below zero.
Their journeys are often without any certain object; but, if the dogs scent the deer or the bear, they gallop away in that direction until their prey is within reach of the driver, or they are enabled to assist in destroying their foe. Captain Parry, in his Journal of a
Second Voyage for the Discovery of a North-West Passage
, gives an amusing account of these expeditions.
"A number of dogs, varying from six to twelve, are attached to each sledge by means of a single trace, but with no reins. An old and tried dog is placed as the leader, who, in their simple journeys, and when the chase is the object, steadily obeys the voice of the driver sitting in front of the sledge, with a whip long enough to reach the leader. This whip, however, is used as seldom as possible; for these dogs, although tractable, are ferocious, and will endure little correction. When the whip is applied with severity on one, he falls upon and worries his neighbour, and he, in his turn, attacks a third, and there is a scene of universal confusion, or the dogs double from side to side to avoid the whip, and the traces become entangled, and the safety of the sledge endangered. The carriage must then be stopped, each dog put into his proper place, and the traces re-adjusted. This frequently happens several times in the course of the day. The driver therefore depends principally on the docility of the leader, who, with admirable precision, quickens or slackens his pace, and starts off or stops, or turns to the right or left, at the summons of his master. When they are journeying homeward, or travelling to some spot to which the leader has been accustomed to go, he is generally suffered to pursue his own course; for, although every trace of the road is lost in the drifting snow, he scents it out, and follows it with undeviating accuracy. Even the leader, however, is not always under the control of his master. If the journey lies homeward, he will go his own pace, and that is usually at the top of his speed; or, if any game starts, or he scents it at a distance, no command of his driver will restrain him. Neither the dog nor his master is half civilized or subdued."
Each of these dogs will draw a weight of 120 lb. over the snow, at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour.
It is extraordinary to consider the powers and wonderful speed of these animals, almost equalling that of many horses.
[Captain] Lyon informs us that three dogs drew a sledge weighing 100 lbs. and himself, one mile in six minutes; his leader dog, which is generally more powerful than the others, drew 196 lb. the same distance in eight minutes; seven dogs ran one mile in four minutes and thirty seconds, with a heavy sledge full of men attached to them; ten dogs ran one mile in five minutes; nine dogs drew 1611 lb. the same distance in nine minutes. — Lyon's Journal, p. 243. — L.
In summer, many of these dogs are used as beasts of burden, and each carries from thirty to fifty pounds. They are then much better kept than in the winter; for they have the remains of the whale and sea-calf, which their masters disdain to eat. The majority, however, are sent adrift in the summer, and they live on the produce of the chase or of their constant thievery. The exactness with which, the summer being past, each returns to his master, is an admirable proof of sagacity, and frequently of attachment.
some parts of Siberia, on the borders of the Oby, there are established relays of dogs, like the post-horses in other countries. Four of these are attached to a very light vehicle; but, when much haste is required, or any very heavy goods are to be conveyed, more than treble or quadruple that number are harnessed to the vehicle. M. de Lesseps
gives an almost incredible account of this. He is speaking of the voracity of these poor beasts, in the midst of the snowy desert, with little or no food.
"We had unharnessed our dogs, in order to bring them closer together, in the ordinary way; but, the moment they were brought up to the pole, they seized their harness, constructed of the thickest and toughest leather, and tore it to pieces, and devoured it. It was in vain that we attempted every means of restraint. A great number of them escaped into the wilds around, others wandered here and there, and seized everything that came within their reach, and which their teeth could destroy. Almost every minute some one of them fell exhausted, and immediately became the prey of the others. Every one that could get within reach struggled for his share. Every limb was disputed, and torn away by a troop of rivals, who attacked all within their reach. As soon as one fell by exhaustion or accident, he was seized by a dozen others, and destroyed in the space of a few minutes. In order to defend ourselves from this crowd of famished beasts, we were compelled to have recourse to our bludgeons and our swords. To this horrible scene of mutual destruction succeeded, on the following day, the sad appearance of those that surrounded the sledge, to which we had retreated for safety and for warmth. They were thin, and starved, and miserable; they could scarcely move; their plaintive and continual howlings seemed to claim our succour; but there was no possibility of relieving them in the slightest degree, except that some of them crept to the opening in our carriage through which the smoke escapes; and the more they felt the warmth closer they crept, and then, through mere feebleness, losing their equilibrium, they rolled into the fire before our eyes."
These dogs are not so high as the common pointer, but much larger and stouter, although their thick hair, three or four inches long in the winter, gives them an appearance of more stoutness than they possess. Under this hair is a coating of fine close soft wool, which begins to grow in the early part of winter, and drops off in the spring. Their muzzles are sharp and generally black, and their ears erect.
Greenland, and Siberian, and Kamtschatdale are varieties of the Esquimaux or Arctic dogs, but enlarged in form, and better subdued. The docility of some of these is equal to that of any European breed.
A
of the name of Chabert, who was afterwards better known by the title of "Fire King," had a beautiful Siberian dog, who would draw him in a light carriage 20 miles a day. He asked £200 for him, and sold him for a considerable portion of that sum; for he was a most beautiful animal of his kind, and as docile as he was beautiful. Between the sale and the delivery, the dog fell and broke his leg. Chabert, to whom the price agreed on was of immense consequence, was in despair. He took the dog at night to a veterinary surgeon. He formally introduced them to each other. He talked to the dog, pointed to his leg, limped around the room, then requested the surgeon to apply some bandages around the leg, and he seemed to walk sound and well. He patted the dog on the head, who was looking alternately at him and the surgeon, desired the surgeon to pat him, and to offer him his hand to lick, and then, holding up his finger to the dog, and gently shaking his head, quitted the room and the house. The dog immediately laid himself down, and submitted to a reduction of the fracture, and the bandaging of the limb, without a motion, except once or twice licking the hand of the operator. He was quite submissive, and in a manner motionless, day after day, until, at the expiration of a month, the limb was sound. Not a trace of the fracture was to be detected, and the purchaser, who is now living, knew nothing about it.
The employment of the Esquimaux dogs is nearly the same as those from Newfoundland, and most valuable they are to the traveller who has to find his way over the wild and trackless regions of the north. The manner, however, in which they are generally treated seems ill calculated to cause any strong or lasting attachment. During their period of labour, they, like their brethren in Newfoundland, are fed sparingly on putrid fish, and in summer they are turned loose to shift for themselves until the return of the severe season renders it necessary to their masters' interest that they should again be sought for, and once more reduced to their state of toil and slavery.
They have been known for several successive days to travel more than 60 miles. They seldom miss their road, although they may be driven over one untrodden snowy plain, where they are occasionally unable to reach any place of shelter. When, however, night comes, they partake with their master of the scanty fare which the sledge will afford, and, crowding round, keep him warm and defend him from danger. If any of them fall victims to the hardships to which they are exposed, their master or their companions frequently feed on their remains, and their skins are converted into warm and comfortable dresses.
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