Anecdotes About Dogs (Continued)

In these days, when so much has been attempted and done, in connection with expeditions to the Arctic regions, the following account by the late Captain Parry, R. N. in the Journal of his second voyage, may be interesting as giving a lively and accurate description of the manner in which Esquimaux Dogs are managed in the sleighing operations in those inclement climes.

"When drawing a sledge," says he, "the dogs have a simple harness of reindeer or seal skin, going round the neck of one bight and another for each of the fore legs, with a single thong leading over the back, and attached to the sledge, as a trace.

"Though they appear, at first sight, to be huddled together without any regard to regularity, there is, in fact, considerable attention paid to their arrangement, particularly in the selection of a dog of peculiar spirit and sagacity, who is allowed by a longer trace, to precede all the rest, as Leader, and to whom, in turning to the right or left, the driver usually addresses himself.

"This choice is made without regard to age or sex, and the rest of the dogs take precedency according to their training or sagacity, the least effective being put nearest the sledge.

"The leader is, usually, from eighteen to twenty feet from the fore part of the sledge and the hindmost dog about half that distance, so that, when ten or twelve are running together several are nearly abreast of each other.

"The driver sits quite low on the front part of the sledge, with his feet overhanging the snow on one side, and having in his hand a whip, of which the handle is plaited a little way down to stiffen it, and give it a spring, on which much of its use depends, and that which composes the lash is chewed by the women to make it flexible in frosty weather.

"The men acquire, from their youth, considerable expertness in the use of this whip. The lash is left to trail along the ground by the side of the sledge, and with it they can inflict a very severe blow upon any one of the dogs at pleasure.

"Though the dogs are kept in training solely and entirely by the fear of the whip, and, indeed without it would soon have their own way, its immediate effect is always detrimental to the draught of the sledge, for not only does the individual that is struck draw back and slacken his pace, but generally turns upon his next neighbour, and this passing on to the next occasions a general divergency, accompanied by the usual yelping and showing of teeth. The dogs then come together again by degrees, and the pace of the sledge is quickened; but even at the best of times, by this rude mode of draught, (and be it remembered the only one, in these inclement parts of the world,) the traces of one-third of the dogs form an angle of thirty or forty degrees on each side of the direction in which the sledge is advancing.

"Another great inconvenience attending the Esquimaux method of putting dogs to, besides that of not employing their strength to the best advantage, is the constant entanglement of the traces by the dogs repeatedly doubling under from side to side to avoid the whip, so that, after running a few miles, the traces always require to be taken off and cleared.

"In directing the sledge, the whip plays no very essential part, the driver for this purpose using certain words, as the carters do with us, to make the dogs turn more to the right or left. To these, a good leader attends with admirable precision, especially if his own name be repeated, at the same time looking behind over his shoulder with great earnestness, as if listening to the directions of the driver.

"On a beaten track, or where even a single foot, or sledge mark is visible, or occasionally discernible, there is not the slightest trouble in guiding the dogs; for even in the darkest night, and in the heaviest snow drifts, there is little or no danger of them losing their road, the leader keeping his nose near the ground, and directing the rest with wonderful sagacity.

"Where, however, there is no beaten track, the best driver amongst them, makes a terribly circuitous course, as all the Esquimaux roads plainly show; these generally occupying an extent of six miles, when with a horse and sledge the journey would scarcely have amounted to five!

"On rough ground, as on hummocks of ice, the sledge would be frequently overturned, or altogether stopped, if the driver did not repeatedly get off and by lifting or drawing it on one side, steer clear of those accidents. At all times, indeed, except on a smooth and well made road, he is pretty constantly employed, thus, with his feet, which, together with his never ceasing vociferations and frequent use of the whip, renders the driving of one of these vehicles by no means an easy or a pleasant task.

"When the driver wishes to stop the sledge, he calls out 'Wo, woa,' exactly as our carters do, but the attention paid to this command depends altogether on his ability to enforce it. If the weight is small and the journey homeward, the dogs are not to be thus delayed, the driver is obliged therefore to dig his heels into the snow, to obstruct their progress, and having thus succeeded in stopping them, he stands up with one leg before the foremost cross-piece of the sledge, till by means of gently laying his whip over each dog's head, he has made them all lie down. Even then, he takes care not to quit his position; so that, should the dogs set off, he is thrown upon the sledge instead of being left behind by them.

"With heavy loads, the dogs draw best with one of their own people, especially a woman, walking a little way ahead, and in this case they are sometimes enticed to mend their pace by holding a mitten to the mouth and then making the motion of cutting it with a knife and throwing it on the snow, when the dogs, mistaking it for meat, hasten forward to pick it up. The women also entice them from the huts in a similar manner. The rate at which they travel depends of course on the weight they have to draw and the roads on which the journey is performed.

"When the latter is level and very hard and smooth constituting in other parts of North America what is called 'good sleighing,' six or seven dogs will draw from eight to ten hundredweight at the rate of seven or eight miles an hour, for several hours together, and will easily, under these circumstances, perform a journey of from fifty to sixty miles a day. On untrodden snow, five and twenty, or thirty miles would be a good journey in a day.

"The same number of well-fed dogs with five or six hundredweight behind them, that of the sledge included, are almost unmanageable, and will, on a smooth road, run any way they please at the rate of ten miles an hour. The work performed, however, by a greater number of dogs is, by no means, in proportion to this, owing to the imperfect mode already described of utilising the strength of these sturdy creatures and to the more frequent snarling and fighting occasioned by the increase in numbers of the draught team or teams."

I have no doubt all owners of kennels have noticed the sudden antipathies taken by dogs sometimes to their own comrades and companions. I remember several instances, amongst my dogs; one was between two remarkably quiet and unassuming Bull Bitches, Louisa and Lucretia, who lived together in a roomy kennel for a long time, but one night there was such a great noise amongst all the dogs that I felt sure there must be something serious going on, so I got up and dressed sufficiently to go down, and found that although the barking and yelling was being done by the Sheep Dogs, Terriers, etc., the "business" lay entirely between the two ladies mentioned, who were simply locked together, and I had a nasty job to get and keep them apart, as it really wants two persons to deal with two determined "boxers," but at last, I got one outside, and the other inside the loose box, and then managed all right.

Another case I had was the two well-known champions, Rob Roy and Laird, two of the best Dandies going at the time they were about. Neither of them had any idea what fear was, but each hated the other with the most deadly hatred, and even to hear the bark of the one, would set the other screaming to get at him, and yet they were both docile with people, and mostly with other dogs, but Laird had a particular dislike to any dog, running in front of a vehicle and barking at the horse, and this aversion was the cause of his sudden death. Cedar Lodge, Downend, Glo., where I then lived, was the corner of one of four roads, with a large lawn on the two front sides of it, and it was Laird's delight to sit on the top of a low wall, there, and watch the passers by; one morning, early, he was thus engaged, when a crank axle cart came rumbling along, accompanied by a good-sized dog, barking in front of the horse; this was too much for Laird, who sprang from the wall into the road and pinned the dog, and before the man could pull up his horse, the wheels of the cart had gone over the fighting dogs in the road with fatal effects on one of the combatants, as Laird, without a whimper, though he must have been seriously injured, walked slowly into the house, lay down in his own box, and died then and there!

Another case of sudden antipathy I remember was between two Skye Bitches of mine, Laura and Lucy (winners of some fifty prizes at all the best shows, while they were about), I bought, on the dispersal of Mrs. Jacobson's kennel, after her lamented death. She was a genuine fancier, and sportswoman, and all her dogs were sure to be "workers," and thoroughly game. One of them was drop-eared, and the other prick-eared, and for a long time they were the best of friends, and not only lived together in one kennel, but used to go to shows often considerable distances, such as Edinburgh, Darlington, and other places in a long low wicker basket, which just suited them without any partition or division in it. But one day they had some difference of opinion, the cause of which I do not know, but there were "ructions," and they never could be trusted together again without the certainty of "war to the knife."

James Hogg, well known as the Ettrick shepherd, declares in his "Shepherd's Calendar" that dogs know what is said on subjects in which they are interested. A farmer had a dog that for three or four years in the latter part of his life, met him at the foot of his farm, about a mile and a half from his house, on his way home. If he was away half a day, a week, or a fortnight, it was all the same, she met him at that spot, there was never an instance known of her going to meet him, on a wrong day, and she could only know when he was coming back, by hearing it mentioned in the family.

I have had many dogs who knew Sunday perfectly well, whether by hearing the church bells, or other indications of the day, I do not know, but although wild to go if they saw me going out at any other time, on that day, they would take no notice nor make any attempt to follow me.

In the same way I have had many thin-coated dogs such as Bull and English Terriers, Smooth Toys and Pugs, who would not go out willingly in wet weather, but Sheep Dogs, Dalmatians, Deerhounds, Dandies, Scottish, Skyes and Wirehaired Fox Terriers, take no notice of it, beyond occasionally shaking themselves, to get rid of some of the water.

Another of Hogg's tales is as follows: "One of my Sheep dogs, named Hector, was very keen in picking up what was said before him." One day Hogg said to his mother, "I am going to Bowerhope to-morrow for a fortnight, but I will not take Hector with me, for he is constantly quarrelling with the rest of the dogs." Hector was present and must have overheard the conversation, as next morning he was missing, and when Hogg reached Bowerhope, Hector was sitting on a hillock, waiting his arrival, he had swum across a flooded river to reach the spot.

Retrievers have the reputation, either rightly or wrongly, of being quarrelsome with other dogs, and so are more often kept as guards or for sporting work, than as companions or pets, but the following are recorded of their sagacity. The inmates of a house in High street in a well-known city were aroused by the loud barking of a dog on the premises. He was a large Black Retriever, Jack, much attached to his master and family. The cause of alarm was soon seen to be a fire raging furiously next door, the smoke from which had aroused the dog. In a short time the house was emptied, all the inmates escaping before it caught fire, which appeared inevitable. Jack was often used to be left in charge of the house when the family were temporarily absent, and although not tied up, no persuasion or even coaxing would induce him to desert his post, so much so that it was four hours after he had given the first alarm of fire, that he allowed one of the family to persuade him to leave the building, which was then almost "gutted." In a marvellous manner, he had escaped injury from the fire, or falling walls, rafters, etc., but the shock to the system from the inhalation of smoke, etc., was so severe, that it caused inflammation of the lungs, and he died the next day, after suffering with coughing, etc., really a martyr to what he looked upon as his duty, and though occasionally taking a little water, refusing all food.