But more ancient than any of these records are the evidences which prove the existence of the domestic Dog among the pre-historic savages of Northern Europe. In the Danish “kitchen-middens,” or heaps of household refuse, piled up by the men of the newer stone period—a time when our Scandinavian forefathers used chipped or polished flints instead of metal for their weapons—are found bone-cuttings belonging to some species of the genus Canis. Along with these remains are some of the long bones of birds, all the other bones of the said birds being absent. Now it is known that the bird-bones here found are the very ones which Dogs cannot devour, while the absent ones are such as they can bolt with ease, and it has been ingeniously argued from this that the remains in question did really belong to a domestic Dog, as, if the animals to which they appertained had been Wolves, they would have made short work of the long bones as well as of the others. Other Dog-bones are found in Denmark in later periods. At the time when the flint knives were succeeded by bronze a large Dog existed, and at the time when iron was used one larger still. In Switzerland, during the newer stone period, a Dog existed, which is probably the oldest of which we have any record. It “partook of the character of our Hounds and Setters or Spaniels,” and, in the matter of its skull, “was about equally remote from the Wolf and Jackal.” This Dog, too, like its Danish contemporary, was succeeded in the bronze period by a larger variety. Thus we see that, at a time when our ancestors were living “in dens and caves of the earth,” in a state of civilisation about equal to that of the African or Australian aborigines of the present day, the Dog was already systematically kept, and “selected,” that is, any good varieties which appeared were taken note of, and kept up.
We have mentioned above the common practice amongst the Greeks and Romans of offering Dogs as sacrifices to the numerous deities. The same custom was prevalent in early times in Scandinavia, where the Dog was often used as a sacrificial victim. Mr. Youatt says:—“Before Christianity was established among the Danes, on every ninth year, at the winter solstice, a monstrous sacrifice of ninety-nine Dogs was effected. In Sweden the sacrifice was still worse. On each of nine successive days ninety-nine Dogs were destroyed. This sacrifice of the Dog, however, gave way to one as numerous and as horrible. On every ninth year ninety-nine human victims were immolated, and the sons of the reigning tyrant among the rest, in order that the life of the monarch might be prolonged.
“On the other hand, the Dog was frequently the executioner; and, from an early period, whether in the course of war, or the mock administration of justice, thousands of poor wretches were torn to pieces by animals trained to that horrible purpose.
“As a counterpart to much of this, the ancient Hyrcanians may be mentioned, who lived near the Caspian sea, and who deemed it one of the strongest expressions of respect to leave the corpse of their deceased friends to be torn and devoured by Dogs. Every man was provided with a certain number of these animals, as a living tomb for himself at some future period, and these Dogs were remarkable for their fierceness.”
In the New World, the Dog is, or was, held as an object of adoration by many of the natives; and dog-worship seems to have been a more ancient culte than the sun-worship practised by the Mexicans. Humboldt informs us that “when the Inca Pachacutec, in his religious wars, conquered the Indians of Xanxa and Huanca (the present valley of Huancayo and Juuja), and compelled them by force to submit to the worship of the sun, he found that Dogs were made the objects of their adoration, and that the priests used the skulls of these animals as wind instruments. It would also appear that the flesh of this canine divinity was eaten by the believers. The veneration of Dogs in the valley of the Huancaya is probably the reason why the skulls, and even whole mummies, of these animals are sometimes found in the Huacas, or Peruvian graves of the most ancient period. Von Tschudi, the author of an admirable treatise on the Fauna Peruana, has examined these skulls, and believes them to belong to a peculiar species, which he calls Canis ingæ, and which is different from the European Dog. The Huancas are still, in derision, called ‘dog-eaters’ by the inhabitants of other provinces.” Humboldt also tells us that “the Peruvian Dogs were made to play a singular part during eclipses of the moon, being beaten as long as the darkness continued.” But he says nothing about the origin of so curious a custom.
An animal of such intelligence as the Dog, one so necessary to the welfare of man, and devoted to him by so many ties, is certain to have a number of curious superstitions current regarding him. An excellent account of some of the most curious of them is given by the Rev. J. Gardner.
“Among the Hyperborean tribes, with whom the Dog is reckoned a very valuable animal, it occupies a conspicuous place in their traditions, being considered—as, for instance, among the Eskimo, according to the accounts given by Franklin and Parry, and other Arctic navigators—as the father of the human family. The Chippewayan Indians had a tradition that they were sprung from a Dog; and hence they neither ate the flesh of that animal themselves, nor could they look with any other feeling than horror upon those nations who fed upon it. In all these cases, probably, the Dog is the symbol of the sun. A strange notion prevails among the Greenlanders that an eclipse is caused by the sun being pursued by his brother the moon. Accordingly, when this phenomenon takes place, the women take the Dogs by the ears, believing that, as these animals existed before man was created, they must have a more certain presentiment of the future than he has; and therefore, if they do not cry when their ears are pulled, it is an infallible sign that the world is about to be destroyed.
“The inhabitants of Japan have a superstitious regard for Dogs. Thus, we learn from Picart, in his ‘Religious Ceremonies of all Nations,’ ‘The emperor who sat on the throne when Kaempfer resided in Japan was so extravagantly fond of them, that there has been a greater number of them in that kingdom ever since his reign (if we may depend on the veracity of this traveller) than in any other nation in the whole world. Every street is obliged to maintain a fixed and determinate number of them. They are quartered upon the inhabitants, and in case of sickness they are obliged to nurse and attend them. When they die, they are obliged to inter them in a decent manner in the mountains and hills peculiarly appropriated for the interment of the people. It is looked upon as a capital crime not only to kill them, but barely to insult and treat them ill; and no one but the legal proprietor is allowed so much as to correct any of them. All this reverence and respect are owing to a celestial constellation which the Japanese call the Dog, under the influence whereof the aforesaid Emperor of Japan was born.’”
By most people the Dog is valued only during his life; his skin is not particularly valuable, and his flesh is little esteemed. This is by no means, however, the case everywhere. It is well known that the Chinese use the Dog as a regular article of food. Many of the North American tribes look upon an entrée of Dog as the greatest possible bonne bouche they can set before a stranger. Sir Leopold McClintock relates that, in the Sandwich Islands, he had most profuse apologies offered to him because there was no puppy to be had for a feast to which he was invited. The Eskimo, too, look upon a dish of young Dog as a great treat; and it is related that a Danish captain provided his friends with a feast of this kind, and when they praised his mutton, sent for the skin of the beast, and exhibited it to them! The Greeks and Romans also used the Dog as an article of diet, and many ancient writers, such as Galen and Hippocrates, represent Dog-meat as a highly desirable dish.