Top

IT is but little necessary to descant here on the different fleeces, and various flavours of mutton which the numerous breeds of sheep afford. The least reflection and observation, teach us their unspeakable value as sources of food, clothing, and other purposes; my task therefore lies with their dispositions and comprehensions. The last anecdote related shews, that they have more patience, but less courage and resource, than the more lively companions with whom they are so frequently associated, and whom they so much resemble. In many instances, however, maternal instinct has called forth their powers to a degree which has caused surprise; and they have been known to traverse considerable distances to seek the assistance of their own kind, or of their shepherd, when their lambs have been in danger. Moreover, a ram is sometimes a formidable enemy, when he thinks any mischief is intended towards the flock of which he is the proud leader.

Of the attachment of sheep to their native place, Captain Brown gives a very remarkable instance. "A ewe made a journey of nine days' length to return to her native place, with her lamb; and was tracked so completely, as to make her owners acquainted with her adventures. Nothing turned her back, and whenever her lamb lagged behind, she urged him on with her impatient bleating. When she reached Stirling, it was the day of an annual fair, and she dared not venture into the crowd; she, therefore, laid herself down by the road side, with her lamb, outside the town, and the next morning early, stole through the streets, only terrified at the dogs which she encountered. She came to a toll-bar, the keeper of which stopped her, supposing she was a stray animal, and would shortly be claimed. She frequently tried to get through the gate, but was as often prevented, and she patiently turned back. At last she found some means of eluding the obstacle, for on the ninth day she reached her destination with her lamb, where she was repurchased, and remained till she died of old age in her seventeenth year."

Sheep have been known, when seized with an epidemic disorder, to absent themselves from the rest of the flock, and hide themselves; and many touching stories are told of the artifices of necessity practised to wean them from their dead offspring, and make them adopt others; also of the manner in which they remain and watch the inanimate objects of their affection.

A gentleman travelling in a lonely part of the Highlands, received a strong proof of sagacity in a ewe, who came piteously bleating to meet him. When near, she redoubled her cries, and looked up in his face, as if to ask his assistance. He alighted from his gig, and followed her. She led him to a cairn at a considerable distance from the road, where he found a lamb, completely wedged in betwixt two large stones, and struggling with its legs uppermost. He extricated the sufferer, and placed it on the green sward; and the mother poured forth her thanks in a long and continued bleat. (Capt. Brown's Pop. Nat. Hist.)

The following history was related by one of the shepherds to whom the circumstance occurred. "We were seven of us, grazing the sheep of a rich Bulgarian, on the steppe of Atkeshoff, and had a flock of 2000 sheep, and 150 goats. It was the month of March, and they were just driven out; the weather was mild, and the grass had appeared, but the wind was bitterly cold in the evening, and it began to rain. The rain soon turned to snow, and our wet cloaks were frozen as hard as boards. A few hours after, came a Siberian viuga, or snowdrift, from the north-east, whistling about our ears till seeing or hearing was impossible. We tried to find our way home, from which we were not far distant; but the sheep would not face the wind, and even the goats, who will face anything but a viuga, began to run before the storm. To prevent the flock from scampering away was impossible, and all that could be done was to keep them together. We had to race all night, and in the morning there was nothing but snow all round us. The viuga raged all that day, and the poor sheep were even more wild and frightened than in the night. Sometimes we gave up all as lost, but roused ourselves again, and ran with the screaming, bleating flock, while the oxen trotted after with the wagon, and the dogs came howling behind. The poor goats were all lost, or frozen to death the first day, in which we ran at least fifty or sixty versts, leaving a track of dead sheep behind us. In the evening the poor beasts were less wild, being exhausted by hunger and fatigue. Two of our party reported themselves sick, and crept under the mats and skins in the wagon, and the rest had only time to take a little bread and snow to save life.

"Night came, no house was near, and this was worse than the preceding. The storm was driving us upon the coast, and we expected to be blown with our stupid cattle into the sea. Another shepherd fell sick, and we thought that night would have been the last for us all. In the morning the wind shifted, and drove us towards some houses, which we saw through the drifting snow, but though they were not more than thirty feet away, it was quite impossible to make the foolish sheep turn aside. On they went before the wind, in spite of all we could do, and we soon lost sight of the houses. Their inhabitants, however, had heard the howling of the dogs, and about twenty came to our assistance. We then managed to turn the sheep, and drive them under sheds, and into houses. All the goats and five hundred sheep were lost. Many died after they got under shelter, for in their fright, they crowded so close together, that they were smothered. Half a verst farther, and we should have come to the coast, rising twenty-five fathoms above the sea."

The above gives a lively picture of sufferings which are unknown to us, and in which the dogs seem to have been less efficacious than our own excellent breed.