"The familiarity which exists between these animals and our own race, is so common to almost every country of the globe, that any remark upon it must seem superfluous, but I cannot avoid believing that it is the universality of the fact which prevents the greater part of mankind from duly reflecting on the subject. While almost every other quadruped fears man as its most formidable enemy, here is one which regards him as a friend.
"We must not mistake the nature of the case, it is not because we train him to our use and have made choice of him in preference to other animals, but because this particular species feels a natural desire to be useful to man and from spontaneous impulse attaches itself to him. Were it not so we should see in various countries an equal familiarity with various other quadrupeds according to the habits, tastes, or caprices of different nations. But, everywhere, it is the dog only takes delight in associating with us, in sharing our abodes, and is even jealous that our attention should be bestowed on him alone, it is he who knows us personally, watches for us, and warns us of danger.
"It is impossible for the naturalist, when taking a survey of the whole animal creation not to feel a conviction that this friendship between two creatures so different from each other, must be the result of the laws of nature; nor can the humane and feeling mind avoid the belief that kindness to those animals, from which he derives continued and essential assistance is part of his moral duty." These words of such an experienced naturalist as Mr. Burchell, are as true to-day as when they were written by him more than fifty years ago, but I am bound to say I think dogs are more valuable, and more thought of now, than ever they were since the world began.
Mr. Bell tells a short story of the intelligence displayed by a Bloodhound belonging to a friend of his, a Mr. Boyle. He says, "To make trial whether a young hound was well instructed, Mr. Boyle desired one of his servants to walk to a town four miles off, and then to a market town three miles from thence. The dog, without seeing the man he was to pursue, followed him by the scent to the above mentioned places, notwithstanding the multitude of market people that went along the same road and of travellers that had occasion to come, and when the Bloodhound came to the market town he passed through the streets, without taking notice of any of the people there, and ceased not till he had gone to the house, where the man he sought rested himself and where he found him in an upper room to the wonder of those who had accompanied him in this pursuit." In the face of the Bloodhound trials last year, and again this spring, in which my friend Mr. Brough has been so much interested, I thought some of my readers might like to see this short account of the doings of a young hound, more than half a century ago.
To illustrate the occasional trials of exhibitors, I recollect starting off early with a team of dogs for one of the first general shows held at Oxford, I think all my dogs were in boxes or baskets but one, a tricolour Collie, whose name I forget, and he was on the chain, and put by the railway people into one of those vile receptacles they call dog boxes, narrow, dark, low and often dirty. On arrival at Didcot (which I had before connected in my mind with Banbury cakes, and was quite surprised to find a "one-eyed" sort of straggling village of contemptible size,) a porter opened one end of the dog den and called the Collie, he, however, showed no intention of responding to the call, and retreated to the other end of the den and growled at the porter, and one of the other porters went around to the further side of the coach and opened the other door of the den, and the dog, taking advantage of this chance of freedom, bolted out, crossed the line, went through a hedge and found himself at once in the open country. I had taken no part in the affair, and declined all responsibility, but told the officials I should sue the company for the value of the dog, lost through their carelessness. They begged me to accompany some of their men in search of the dog, as he might be easier caught if he saw someone he knew amongst those after him.
Soon after it began to rain, and from soon after eleven a. m. till after six p. m. we tramped the country in search of the wandering dog, whom we afterwards saw in the distance, but in that district the fields are very large, and often as we laboriously got into a field through a hedge or over hurdles, etc., we had the mortification of seeing the dog disappear through or over the hedge on the opposite side, and very wearisome work it was.
At length I decided to go on to Oxford, with the rest of my dogs, and left the matter of the lost dog with the railway company, who, I was informed, offered a reward for his recovery, and about a month afterwards I had a letter asking me to call at one of their stations where they thought a dog lately found answered the description of mine. This turned out to be correct and I took home the dog, making a small claim for expenses I had been put to in the matter. The dog was not in bad condition, and still wore the collar and chain on him when lost, but it is strange how that dog managed to live for a month in such a sparsely inhabited district as that round about Didcot, at any rate at that time, which is about fifteen years ago.
CHAPTER XXII
Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)