The Dog

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In 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 [2] 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.

The 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 person 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 L200 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.

THE LAPLAND DOG.

Captain 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:

THE SHEEP-DOG.

The origin of the sheep-dog is somewhat various; but the predominant
breed is that of the intelligent and docile spaniel. Although it is now
found in every civilized country in which the sheep is cultivated, ii is
not coeval with the domestication of that animal. When the pastures were
in a manner open to the first occupant, and every shepherd had a common
property in them, it was not so necessary to restrain the wandering of
the sheep, and the voice of the shepherd was usually sufficient to
collect and to guide them. He preceded the flock, and they "followed him
whithersoever he went." In process of time, however, man availed himself
of the sagacity of the dog to diminish his own labour and fatigue, and
this useful servitor became the guide and defender of the flock.

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.

Professor 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. There
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. [4] 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.

Mr. 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.

Mr. 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. [6]

Mr. 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. [7]

We 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. [8]

Buffon 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.