Ui?!v.of ill. Library 52 0? Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates https://archive.org/details/dogsOOinge NATURAL HIS TO R Y S E R J £ S. DOGS. BY ERNEST INGERSOLL FULLY ILLUSTRATED. CHICAGO The Interstate Publishing Company BOSTON: 30 FRANKLIN STREET COPYRIGHT BY loth ROP & c 1879 PRESS OF DKLAND AM) BARTA, BOSTON. 6/24/40 g.E.L. Draper ^ 36.7 DOGS. S to dogs, it is one of the curious facts about them that there are so many different kinds. One would think that there were almost as many spe- cies of dogs as of birds, to judge from their outward appearance ; yet the slender-limbed, tall grey-hound and the squatty, bow- legged bull-dog, the long-haired Spitz, and the shiver- 7 8 Dogs. ing little skeleton of New Mexico without any hair at all, the sharp-nosed, straight-tailed terrier and the square-jawed, screw-tailed pug all belong to one and the same species, — Canis familiaris. All these vast differences have been brought about by the influence of the civilization in which dogs have lived for so many thousands of years. From the earliest beginning of man^s career on earth, away back in those dim ages so long ago that we have no records whatever to refer to, and only know about through a study of rude utensils and weapons of stone, which are found buried and lost where these earliest inhabitants of the world lived and hunted and fished — from away back there, I say, the dog has been a household animal, and until they learned to tame the wild pig and harness the rein- deer, was probably the only brute servant of men. Domestic dogs, then, are ancient not only, but uni- versal. In that century of wonderful disclosures, the Sixteenth, when so many new lands were ex- plored and unknown nations of savage men brought to the notice of Europe, everywhere, from pole to pole, the navigators discovered tamed dogs, differing greatly in different regions, but unmistakable. A second curious fact is, that there seems to be no- where any true wild dog. The words, wild dog, cannot properly be applied to any animal that I know of, — wild, that is in the sense of having been* forever so, as are the wolves. Some countries have contained, and perhaps do yet, wild horses, none of whose ancestors ever felt the pull of a rein on their nervous lips. But the proudly free horses which I saw last summer in Kan- sas and Wyoming, rushing like a whirlwind over the wide plain as they caught sight of us, were not truly wild ones, for their parents, or possibly they them- selves, had once been under the saddle. Perhaps some of you who were at the Centennial Exhibition will remember seeing in one of the Aus- tralian departments the stuffed skin of a dog mounted in an erect and vigilant attitude, and ob- served that it was labelled “ Dhingo/’ This is the wild dog ” of Australia. It roams in small compa- nies, called ‘‘ packs,’^ over the hills and through the woods of that continent, hunting for itself, keeping away from the Blackfellows — as the natives are called — behaving always in an exceedingly savage manner and refusing to become tamed or in the least docile when one happens to be caught, which is rarely. Yet I think no one claims that this is one of the indigenous wild beasts of Australia like the kanga- TO Dogs. roo. Undoubtedly it is a case where a breed of dogs, which years ago was domestic, has now be- come utterly untamed. This could easily happen in such a land as Australia, where the natives are con- tinually at war, and every few years, or decades, the whole population of one district will be swept off by a more powerful tribe from some other. In the course of such a history there might be a time when, because it was such dangerous ground or for some other reason, a region once inhabited by man would be wholly deserted as a home and the dogs left to care for themselves. Finding they could do it well enough in that land of plenty, it would not be strange if they became so very fond of liberty as never to be willing to return to their old place by the fireside. The fact is that in South Africa to-day, packs of wild, hound-like dogs roam over the plains, consort ing with the jackals and hyenas in feeding upon what the lions leave, and when this fails, hunting for them- selves. But it is perfectly well known that these de- moralized, blood-thirsty hounds are those which have escaped from the early Dutch colonists, who settled near Cape Town and in KafBr-Land. All these dogs, in all parts of the world, from the tough guardians at the Alpine hospice to the flannel- muffled pet of a Boston boudoir, are alike in struct- ure however much they may differ in size and out- ward appearance. The bones of different species of animals, even those closely allied, like the red and gray foxes, show certain features by which you can recognize them apart from mere size or shape, and by which you can separate them from other species ; but if you should take the skulls of the hundred or more varieties of the canine race — ** as many dogs there be, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound. And curs of low degree,’’ you could not distinguish them by what anatomists call any “ specific character.” Moreover, if you take dogs belonging to a particular part of the world, like those of Kamtchatka, where they have not been mixed with domestic dogs from other regions, you will find that you cannot distinguish easily between their skulls and those of the wolves or some one wolf-like beast which is native to that region. Now that which I have been trying to lead up to all this while, you have probably foreseen, namely : If the dog is nowhere known, either living or by his fos^ sil remains, as a distinct, wild race of the family CanidcB to which he belongs ; and if — as is true—' 12 Dogs, there is no single, world- wide animal like a dog which men in all parts of the world could have domestica- ted ; and if the dogs of different, uncivilized quar- ters of the world always closely resemble the sort of wolf which inhabits that particular region ; then we may conclude that, originally, each savage race tamed for itself the wolf which it knew, and that, as men from different parts of the globe mixed more and more, and grew civilized, the appearance of the va- rious tamed wolves became more and more changed through mixture, until now, in many of them, scarcely any outward trace remains. No doubt there is much fox and jackal blood also in our dogs, which would increase the diversity. A good example of how this comes about is found in the dogs that throng the villages of our northwest- ern Indians and make life a burden to all strangers. But everybody in that region understands that these dogs are descendants of the prairie wolves or coyotes, which they closely resemble in the expression of the countenance, in the upright, pointed ears, in the bushy tail, often in color ( which is not much matter), in their cry, which consists of three or four short, sharp barks followed by a long, shrill howl, and, lastly, in their snappish, thievish dispositions. They are kicked and starved by the Indians until they are al- ways as bad-tempered as possible; and I am sure I would just as willingly go unarmed into a pack of coyotes. Some of these Missouri River Indian dogs have descended from many generations of do- mestic life, and are more “ doggy ’’ than wolfy ; but between these and true wolves, you may find every grade of relationship and ferocity. Concern ing the dogs of the Indians who inhabited the East- ern States when the Pilgrims had the bad taste and good luck to land on a certain “ stern and rockbound coast,” very little has been written ; but I saw an old record the other day which mentioned that some explorers, landing on the eastern shore of Long Island, were greatly frightened in the Montauk vil- lages, by an attack from the dogs which the voyagers simply call ‘‘ tame wolves.” It is through long domestication then — which being an unnatural way of living soon works great changes in animals and their descendants — and through mixture of many varieties from various countries, that the dog has now come to have so many shapes and charac- ters. Their grand ancestor, the wolf, has been provided with many striking qualities to enable him to get a living. He is fleet of foot, keen of eye, deli- cate in ear and nose, able to endure a vast amount of fatigue, and perhaps I may add that he is of so- cial disposition, since wolves usually go in companies and help each other in the hunt. If we examine closely we shall see that most of our many different sorts of dogs have been brought about by men purposely cultivating in each breed one of these qualities to the exclusion of the rest ; but it has taken long centuries of civilized life, and the most careful study of dog-nature. I presume it is likely that the first real use, beyond a pet, which savage men made of their tamed wolves was as guardians of their camps while they travelled about. The natural wakefulness and watchfulness of the brutes at night was turned to good account. The largest and most ferocious animal would be best here ; the one that not only could warn his master of the ap- proach of a wild beast, but be strong enough to resist it also. Men, therefore, would kill all the little weak puppies, keeping only the big-jawed, sinewy ones. And so a race of giant dogs would be had, like those great mastiffs and hounds which exist to this day in Russia and parts of Asia, where bears are trouble- some. Having got dogs able to protect their masters, cop- ing successfully in battle with wild beasts, it would be very natural that the early savage men, who were without any better means of killing game than stone Dogs, 15 axes and spears, rude bows and arrows, or slings, af- forded, should next try to make their dogs not only watchmen but aids in hunting. But, for this purpose, a different animal would be required. The great mastiffs and bull-dogs, useful to stand and fight a bear, are too heavy and muscular to chase a wild ox or deer and drag it down. So, the longest-legged, lightest-bodied puppies would also be saved and trained to go on hunting expeditions with their masters ; while the great watch-dogs stayed at home in the camp to guard the women and children, who, very likely, already had tamed foxes and small wolves, and so were beginning the toy breeds that la- dies delight to make pets of at present. Now it is a curious fact in the case of all sorts of animals, that the young closely resemble their parents, not onl)’’ in color and shape and size, but also in their manner of thinking and acting; if there is any differ- ence they exceed their parents in those particulars which make the father and mother peculiar. The colts of the huge Canadian horses that draw the express wagons and heavy trucks over the city pave- ments, are able to pull just as heavy loads as their fathers did ; while the colt of a fast trotter will run a mile in the same small number of minutes, or proba- bly a little less than his sire. It didn’t take long for men to learn this, and find that every new generation improved upon the strength and vigilance of the watch-dogs, and the fleetness and keen-scentedness of the hunting-dogs. What I am trying to show is this : that all the va- rious sorts of dogs, which we see every day and which are shown to such splendid advantage in the bench-shows that take place every year in our princi- pal cities, were brought about in the beginning through the wish of men to train dogs for particular Dogs, i7 purposes, and by means of that law of nature which dictates that when the father and mother are alike the young one will tend to have all the strong points of both. Now, just look at how many different purposes dogs could be made useful for. First, for guarding property. These must be wide-awake and big-voiced and strong. I'hey must have an idea that, on no account are they to desert their post, either to be lured away by tempting morsels of meat or frightened away by any threats. It is their business to suspect every body who comes about the premises at night to be a robber, and they must attack anything without flinching. How many stories might be told of such dogs ! Cases have been known where their sense of duty was so great that they have starved to death rather than desert a piece of property which their master had commanded them to stay and guard. It is such dogs that take the strongest liking to their masters or mistresses, and, looking on them per- haps as so much property, defend them from every harm and stay by them when they are lost or hurt. We recall at once scores of anecdotes of rescue from drowning by Newfoundlands, of defence against high- Dogs. i8 waymen by mastiffs, of travelers dragged by the no- ble dogs of St. Bernard out of a snowy bed, where they sank down to a last freezing sleep, instance after instance where the brute companion finding himself powerless to help his loved master has gone and got aid in time. Then, there are all the admirable kinds of dogs used in sporting. The slender greyhound must over- take by speed the swiftest-footed hare, and be quick enough to turn with it when it doubles on its tracks. The heavier, larger deer-hound not only has to chase the leaping stag and antelope, but spring upon it, fell it to the ground and hold it there until the hunter comes up. Both of these go by sight, and thus are wolf-like, only much faster. But most hunting-dogs follow their nose. All animals leave behind them, on the ground, a smell which is too faint for our un- educated nostrils to perceive. But wild animals have an advantage over us here, which has been im- proved on in dogs through careful management in breeding, until the sense of smell — the nosCy as it is called — of some species is wonderful. Watch the eager way in which fox-hounds will seek about the woods when they are let out of their ken- nels. They are scenting something. Suddenly one sets up a ringing bark, and away they all go upon 19 Dogs. the track of a fox, whose only trace of having been there a half-hour or more ago is the scent left by his velvet foot as it lightly touched the leaves and grass over which he sprung. How slender a trail 1 Yet the sure dog follows it in all its windings and at a rate which makes a swift horse pant to keep up with. But a more wonderful nose yet, perhaps, is pos- sessed by pointers and setters, — the handsome dogs used by gunners in shooting grouse, quails, snipes and other game birds. Here a peculiar set of quali- ties has been developed by man, and habits ingrained into a strain of dogs which no wild animal that I know of uses. It is the business of hounds, as I have said, after finding an animal to chase and catch it ; but a dog would naturally be unable to do this with a bird, which would spread its wings and be out of reach long before. The help which a dog could give in bird-shooting, is only in the way of finding the bird. Setters and pointers, therefore, are dogs wherein delicacy of scent and intelligence have been very highly developed ; and that are taught to range about the field until they catch the odor of a sitting quail or woodcock, wafted to them on the summer breeze. Observe such a dog once. You will see him stop short in his tracks, one foot raised as if another step 20 Dogs, was half made, and slowly turn his head in the direc- tion of the odor, while his whole body stiffens into the stillness and rigidity of stone and his eye glazes with the dead earnestness of his attention. He is pointing at a bird which sits there before him, quak- ing with terror yet fearing to stir. Sometimes the gunner is a long time coming up and ordering his dog to rush forward and scare the bird up so that he can shoot it as it flies ; but the pointer, knowing that all depends on his immovability, stands there like a rock, till his bones ache and his muscles crack with fatigue. There is a story that a pointer was thus accident- ally left behind by his master once. Some years afterward, another gunner passing that way found the skeleton of a dog standing firmly, with out- stretched head and tail, pointing steadily at the bones of a quail a little way ahead. But I think there must be some mistake about the exact truth of this. Setters and pointers differ from one another mainly in the former having a long, silky coat, and the other hair of scarcely any length at all. Both are used in . the same way, and each is susceptible of very high education in the art of hunting birds and in that af- fection and politeness which belongs to a good house- Dogs. 21 dog. The puppies of both these varieties when first taken into the field without any previous training, will come to a real point on the first bird they catch the scent of and stand there, though not so firmly, of course, as the older and trained ones. Now, this shows plainly enough that men have changed to suit their purposes, not only the bodies of dogs until they are as widely different as a Dandie Dinmont and a Russian bloodhound, but also their minds ; so that a watch-dog will guard a piece of his master’s meat to the point of starvation without touching it, and a setter will get the bird he has found but has stopped before killing for himself, and bring it unbitten to the gunner’s feet. These and many other characteristics, which show true fidelity, sagacity that can understand and rea- son enough to take advantage of good circumstances and avoid bad ones, a conscience that tells the dog when he is wrong and makes him miserable, a heart susceptible to joy or grief, and, I am bound to be- lieve, a soul having somewhat of immortality about it ; all these have been unfolded by man’s care and guidance from the rude cunning of wild wolf-nature as the rain and sunshine bring rich flower-petals from the rough scales of the bud. But there is another side. /. 33 Dogs. Take away the care and selection exercised over them constantly by their masters, set all the dogs free in an uncivilized world again ( if it were possible ) to mingle without restraint, and slowly the marked excellence of each kind would disappear and the splendid faculties degenerate. The pointers and setters seeing no gunner THE SETTER. 4 behind them would no longer stand stock-still when they found a quail, but would rush after it for themselves. The retrievers would fail to carry their game to any one else, but eat it on the spot The watch-dogs finding their property valueless would forget how to guard anything but their own prey. The toy ter- riers and poodles and King Charles spaniels and 23 Dogs. pugs and all the other little dogs, I fear, would die of fright and cold and enemies, when the velvet cush- ions had to be abandoned and the tender hands of their fair-haired mistresses no longer fed them with dainties ; if, indeed, most of the big dogs also did not, so unused would they be to depending upon themselves. The qualities most artificial, most unnat- ural to dogs, would disappear first, while such new and valuable accomplishments as fleetness would be well retained. Those kinds nearest the wolves, like the Esquimaux sledge-dogs and the vagabond curs of the streets, would doubtless fare the best ; but, after a century or so, it would probably be hard to recognize the varieties which now we call by name or to find in them more than a trace of the faculties in which they once excelled. Yet I cannot think that the whole effect of their civilized life would be lost, and that the dogs of the world, become wild again, would be no better for having served an apprenticeship to men. On the contrary, I believe they would teach each other and the wolves with which they would mix in the wilderness, some of the different tricks which each had learned, and impart much of the varied in- telligence they had acquired ; and that a race of wild animals of marvelous power and cunning would re- 24 Dogs, suit — a race which would rapidly improve again, as a whole, ( when once the individuality of each breed was lost and the limit of the reversion toward the original type had been reached ) in an equality of strength and sagacity, which should make them rulers among wild beasts MR. HOLMES’ DOG JACK. “ ^^HALL I wear my besfest jacket, mamma?” wZ/ asked Natty Holmes, his eyes sparkling with animation, while he tossed from a wardrobe every garment he possessed. “ Natty, do wait until I can find it for you ! Your hands and face must be bathed before you dress ! ” exclaimed his mother. “ My face 'nd hands were washed last night, dread- ful clean. I can't see a speck o' dirt, and it'll rub the skin off, a-washin' and a-washin',” argued the child. But mamma was not afraid of this dire effect, and 2 ,^ 26 Mr. Holmes^ Dog Jack. scrubbed the plump cheek and chubby fingers until they were as rosy as a Baldwin apple. Hair-dressing came next, and in this operation the child proved stout of lungs, and slippery as an eel, maintaining defiantly that dog Jack “didn’t have his hair combed.-’ “Jack keeps himself as nice as he knows how. Wouldn’t you feel ashamed to have your dog neater than you ? ” asked Mrs. Holmes. “ Guess I should ! never caught me washing in the mud-puddle, on all fours,” complacently rejoined Natty. “ Precious near it, counting knees, you small mis- chief ! ” remarked the mother, half to herself j adding aloud, “ Now the collar and bow, and you’re ready. Jack is out looking for the stage.” All this bustle, at Mr. Holmes’farm, that morning, was because Natty expected to visit the city for the first time in the four summers of his life. Since five o’clock he had not slept for thinking of it. Hearing at this moment the stage, he made his small legs fly like windmills, lest it should leave him. Once in the coach, he wanted the horses to “ hurry up,” or the cars would start without hini. But when the depot was reached, and the engine approached, puffing and blowing, he ran to his father Mr. Holmes' Dog yack. 27 in fright, begging to be taken from '''‘that beastes and was not willing to enter the cars, until he saw Jack walk in as fearlessly as into the kitchen at home. What Jack did. Natty thought was safe for him, and he followed the dog to a seat. Now began the wonder of wonders ! Trees, bushes, houses and stone walls ran races, and even the peo- ple darted about as if shot from a pop gun. Arrived at the city, wheels, horses, and men, crowded and jostled so much he wished himself back where there was plenty of room for the little boys. But presently his whole attention was absorbed by a window filled with candies ; red, white, brown, and yellow. Not a step would he advance until his father had bought him some ; and if after that his mouth had queer curves, you can imagine the cause. From this call at the candy store. Natty visited va- rious places, where he saw many things to question about ; then his father took him to dine at a hotel. Here the waiters confused him and almost took away his appetite ; yet he contrived to eat turkey and plum pudding enough to make him dreadfully sleepy, and at the very first office his father entered, after dinner, he climbed upon a lounge and went fast asleep. Jack had been separated from his master several hours, having a large circle of friends upon whom he /. 28 Mr. Holmes' Dog J^ack. called when he came to town. Being on this day invited to share a bone with a black-and-tan dog, he had not come, as usual, to dinner. Now, however, just as Natty took his nap, he barked at the office door, and, at once admitted, sat down by the sleeping boy. After a while, Mr. Holmes, knowing how faithfully Jack would guard Natty, left the two there while he finished his errands. As this story never would have been written but for Jack, he deserves some special notice here. I must confess he was as homely a dog as ever barked. His neck was short and fat, his body big and clumsy, his nose square and stubby, and he wore a dark gray coat, without a black or white ornament. Even his tail was not much to speak of, and it stood up stiff in the air, instead of curling gracefully at the end. Only his eyes conveyed the slightest idea of supe- rior intelligence ; these were almost hunian in their expression, and grew dull or bright as he was happy or unhappy. His tail, too, though such a guy of a tail, was a true flag of distress or rejoicing; no matter in how commonplace a tone Jack's name was spoken, if the remark was approving it waved gaily in pride ; but if otherwise, drooped in shame. The children of the Holmes family were special Mr, Holmes^ Dog yack. 29 objects of his affection. Nothing could injure them while he was near. He was often sent to the market for meat, and al- ways brought it promptly and safely; thus proving himself more worthy of trust than some handsome dogs. We will now look in at the office, where we left him, guarding his little master. By some canine time- piece, Jack knows the hour has come for the train to start. He barks and tugs at Natty, until he wakens him ; then darts through the door, and out into the street. The child follows, satisfied the dog under- stands the ways of the world. Straight to the depot trots the animal, and the boy keeps close to him. There Jack looks uneasily for Mr. Holmes, uttering one or two growls, expressive of his disapproval of such tardiness. Soon the train appears, but not the father. Jack does not any longer hesitate, evidently recalling other instances of the forgetfulness of his master ; he barks furiously for the child to enter the train and jumps in after him. The conductor recognizing the pair, and supposing the father to be in another car, allows them to take seats, and is amused to see the dog mount sentinel at the window. In the mean time Mr, Holmes had become so ab- Mr. Hohnes' Dog Jack. 7P sorbed in business affairs as to forget about his child ; and not only that, but when he went to the depot he carelessly took passage for a town in an opposite di- rection from his own ! Discovering his mistake, he Mr. Holmes^ Dog ^ack. 31 was also reminded of Natty and Jack; still, believ- ing them at his friend^s office, was more amused at his absent-mindedness, than alarmed for them. At the next station he was able to return to the city, and hastened at once for Natty. What was his anxiety to learn he had gone away with the dog, and could not be found ! Mr. Holmes thought of Charlie Ross, and all the dreadful stories he knew of lost children, and was almost beside himself with anxiety. Not knowing what else to do, he inquired at the depot if a dog and child had been seen there. He was greatly surprised to hear they had been noticed taking the four-thirty train to Kingston. His first feeling was one of relief, but soon he feared neither child or dog would be wise enough to stop at the proper station, but would ride as far as the cars would take them. Then, alone in a strange place, tired and bewildered, what might not happen to his darling I Mr. Holmes telegraphed to the agent at the termi- nus of the road, to learn if Natty was there, and re- ceived a negative reply. Where could he have gone ? Had some stranger taken him home with him ? A thousand terrible possibilities haunted the father. How could he meet the mother without her boy ? yet he must go home before he searched farther, clinging 32 Mr, Holmes* Dog yack. to the faintest hope that Natty might be there. The journey thither, however, was the longest and hardest he ever took. As he stepped upon the platform in Kingston, an old countryman spoke to him. “ I say, Mr. Holmes ! what’ll you take for that dog o’ yourn .? He’s the knowingest creetur’ going. When he came with your little chap ter-night, he got by the winder, and kept watch o’ the places, and wouldn’t let him stir till the train got here ; then he barked until the conductor took the child off. When he knows Flint’s Corner as well as this ’ere, what kept him from a-stoppin’ there, takes a smarter man’n I be to tell. Mighty euros ^ that’s a fact ! ” The father was quite overcome with joy to learn of his boy’s safety, and of course wouldn’t sell Jack at any price. Hastening to his family, he bore patiently Mrs. Holmes’ comments on his failing memory, confessing he deserved them. It was true, as the countryman related — Jack watched at the car window, not moving, or permitting Natty to move, until the right station came in sight ; then he made the child get out, and the stage driver brought them home. You can imagine when Mr. Holmes caressed his “ lost child found again ” he did Mr, Holmes^ Dog Jack, 33 not forget to praise Jack so warmly that his stub of a tail waved like “ a star spangled banner in the breeze ; ” and if a mortal dog ever merited praise I am sure you will say that dog did. SPORT AND HIS TRAVELS. M y friend, Mr. Adams of Nantucket, is the for- tunate owner of a verj^ intelligent and affec- tionate dog named Sport, about whom I can tell you a remarkable story. Sport is a handsome, graceful creature now about four years old, of mixed blood, but chiefly of the Shepherd breed, with short hair slightly curled, long, drooping ears, and clear brown eyes. He is very quick and active in his movements, very strong in his attachments to friends and home, and, as you will see, very clear-headed and self-reliant. Sport was about six months old when he came into U sport and His Travels. 35 Mr. Adams’ possession. At that time his master was clerk of the steamer “ Island Home ” which runs be- tween Nantucket and Wood’s Hole, stopping on the way at Martha’s Vineyard. A very strong affection grew up between the dog and his master and one was rarely seen without the other. Sport accompanied his master so constantly in his daily trips upon the steamer, that he came to be regarded as one of the regular hands and was as confidently expected on board as his master ; indeed, the steamboat men gave him the title of “ second mate.” He was a great favorite with all hands, from the captain down to the steward. I suppose there never was a regular deadhead so heartily welcome anywhere as Sport was on the Island Home.” When Sport was about a year and a half old his master gave up his clerkship, and Sport made no more passages on the steamer. But, like many other ‘‘old sea-dogs,” he was a little restless on the land and his master occasionally treated him to a trip on a sailing-vessel with Captain Hinckley, a friend of Mr. Adams, who was very fond of the dog and very careful of him. On one of these trips Captain Hinckley took Sport with him to Fall River, where he remained for three or four days, the vessel lying at the wharf. 3 6 Sport and His Travels, When the cargo was discharged and new freight taken on board and all hands ready to set sail, it was discovered that Sport was missing. Search was made for him on the .wharves and in the principal streets of Fall River but without success, and Cap- tain Hinckley was obliged to go away without him. However, he left a description of the dog in the hands of the chief of police, with orders, if he should be found, to have him forwarded by express at once to Nantucket. It was a great trial to the good-hearted captain to tell Mr. Adams that Sport was lost ; and they both tried hard to believe they would some day get some tidings of him. But, as month after month went by without any news of him, Mr. Adams at last made up his mind that he should never see his dog Sport again. Fifteen months passed by. I wish I could tell you all that happened to Sport in that time — what dif- ferent masters adopted him, what strange adventures he had, what “ hair-breadth ^scapes he met with, what ‘‘ moving accidents by flood and field befel him. In regard to all these things Sport maintains a profound and dignified reticence. But this I do know, that in fifteen months from the time he was lost in Fall River, Sport made his way, alone and unaided, from New Bedford to Nantucket. SPORT KNIeW him, sport and His Travels. 39 A gentleman, who was taking passage at New Bed- ford for Nantucket, saw the dog and perceived that he was without a master. When first noticed Sport was trotting down the wharf to the Steamer Mono- hansett. He went on board quietly, and, as he was generally supposed to belong to some passenger, he was not molested. The Monohansett runs from New Bedford to Wood’s Hole and Martha’s Vineyard. When all were on board, the boat steamed across Buzzard’s Bay to Wood’s Hole, where it made the first stop and blew the whistle. Passengers went on shore but Sport remained on board. Then the boat crossed Vineyard Sound and touched at Camp Landing on Martha’s Vineyard. Here, again, passengers landed and still Sport stayed behind ; but when the Mono- hansett reached Oak Bluffs, where the Island Home usually touches, Sport bounded on the wharf. I have no doubt he expected to find the steamer there and take passage on her for his beloved Nan- tucket. But it happened that, during that season, the Island Home did not stop at the regular wharf but at a landing a little way off. Sport had not heard of the change and, for a moment, was puzzled. But, while he was pondering what to do next, the Is- land Home approached and blew her whistle. Sport recognized that whistle in an instant, and 40 Sport and His Travels. started on a brisk run in the direction from which the sound came. The moment the boat touched he sprang on board ; but, as he had no master with him and was not at first recognized, one of the men kicked him off the boat. But, luckily for the brave dog, the captain of the boat saw him and knew him, and called out to the man : Stop that I That is Adams’ dog ! Let him come on board ! ” Then, once on board, it was good to see Sport’s perfect delight. His master was not there, but Sport knew he was on the right track and felt sure he should find him in the end. He rushed about the boat, found all his old friends, jumped upon them, licked their hands and faces, and was so wild with joy that the captain w^as afraid he would go mad, and had to shut him up by himself to get him calmed down. When the Island Home reached the wharf at Nan- tucket Sport was first to land, so impatient was he to reach his dear master and his old home. But the captain, who was proud to return the long-lost dog to his master, detained him a few minutes till he was ready to take him along. On the way they met the father of Mr. Adams. Sport knew him, bounded away from the captain, nearly upset the old gentle- sport and His Travels, 41 man with his hearty greeting, and sped on in search of his master. I shall leave you to picture to yourselves the sur- prise and delight of master and dog v/hen they met after their long separation. I am sure your imagina- tion will not exceed the reality. Sport remembered all his old friends and called on them at their homes soon after his return. And now he seems well content to give up travel- ling and spend the rest of his days in the sweet security of Nantucket, where he is well known and much loved. A CUNNING DOG. D ogs sometimes exhibit traits that are almost human ; and we sometimes wonder whether Pythagoras was very far wrong in his theory that the souls of men at their death, and also before their cre- ation, inhabit the bodies of animals. "Certainly, if so, the soul of a certain little black spaniel named “ Nig must originally have belonged to some greedy boy whose indulgent parents fed him upon kmcknacks until he died ; for never was there 42 NIG, YOU MUST BAT THAT FISH ! A Cunning Dog. 45 an animal more particular in his tastes with regard to food. Many times Nig would go supperless to bed because his little master insisted upon his eating plain bread and butter instead of cake ; and he was known to fast an entire day on one occasion, because his breakfast consisted of fried potatoes and beef bones rather than .hot rolls of which he was extrava- gantly fond. But little boys learn to get their own way, and lit- tle dogs are quite as apt. After a time, Nig concluded that the only sure method of obtaining what he wanted was to eat, or hide away, what was first given him and then beg for more ; and, therefore, he would carry off the crusts which he found upon his plate, bury them at the foot of the garden and then return, and with wagging tail ask for a doughnut or a cookie which he seldom failed to receive. By this and other tricks the spaniel generally man- aged to secure such food as he best liked ; and, for a long time, the shrewdness which he exhibited and the hearty laughs which he excited made his master for get how bad were the habits which he was forming. But one day Nig made too great a fuss about the supper which was set before him, and, as a punish- ment, a severe order was issued : 46 A Cunning Dog. The dog was to eat just what was left from the ta- ble and nothing more. What was good enough for the family must do for him. That night Nig slept in happy unconsciousness of the new rule ; but when morning came and breakfast was over its full import became known to him. For his master had eaten codfish and potato, and codfish and potato was all that was left for Master Nig. A plate with the fishy food was prepared and placed in Nig’s corner, and he was invited to par- take. At first he approached with evident hunger and delight, sniffing eagerly at the offered plate j but when his nose told him what it contained his counte- nance and his tail both fell. He looked at his mas- ter in a reproachful manner and turned sadly away. He was called back and ordered to eat. Slowly he returned, but, instead of eating, he carefully pushed every particle of the food from the plate to the floor, crowded it close under the rim of the dish, and again retired to a chair where he seated himself, looking soberly at the plate and then at his master, as though entering a remonstrance against such a breakfast. But his master was obdurate and spoke sternly : “ Nig, you must eat that fish and potato before you have anything else/’ No sooner were the words spoken than the dog A Cunning Dog. 47 leaped from the chair, ran to the door and disap- peared. For two entire days nothing was seen of him and his master began to fear that the little fellow was lost, when, early upon the morning of the third day. Nig presented himself at the door and began to beg for his breakfast as usual. Hoping that the dog’s hunger had overcome his scruples, the fish arid potato was again presented to him. He regarded it for a moment with a sorrowful air, ears and tail drooping low, then turned and quietly walked out of the door without tasting it. This time he was gone nearly a week, and when, at last, he returned, his master succumbed. The ob- noxious fish and potato was thrown away and Nig fared sumptuously upon fresh beef and hot rolls. Since that time the spaniel has eaten only such food as he prefers. Like many children he had fought the battle out and conquered. Shocky^ ISS GRET, re- turning from h e r errands one day, found the kitchen hearth decorate d with a little brown lump ; warm, pulpy, sentient — i n short, a puppy, very short, in the legs by nature, and in the ears and tail by art; the latter members bearing painful evidence of a recent cropping. The young woman eyed him for a 48 Shocky. 49 moment, then taking him by the nape of the neck — no, he had no neck, none to speak of — by the skin of his back, with a clutch that extended all the way from his ears to his tail, she held him aloft. The infant yelped. “ Poor pluck ! ” said Miss Gret, decisively \ and, remanding him to the hearth, she passed on to the dining-room. There sat Nina at her dessert. Miss Gret was late. “ Did you bring that little nuisance here ? ’’ was the lady’s courteous greeting to her cousin. “ Where did he come from ? ” Willie had brought him from New York the day before. Captain Somebody had given him the dog, thinking the little brute too good to drown; and now Aunty said she wanted him. “So he’s to stay, is he? How big will he grow ? ” Nina indicated his future length rather indefinitely. He was of a nature to remain a small dog, if desired as a house pet ; or large enough for a watch, if that was what was wanted ; in short, of a convertible size. Miss Gret, finding the new-comer was to be one of the family, wisely determined to make the best of 50 Shocky. / him. She gave him a lunch of bread and milk, and provided a pocket-handkerchief as his bed (he had reposed on a piece of brown paper the night before). The lunch was quite to his taste, but he showed little inclination to keep his bed ; indeed, he was in a fair way to warrant his foster-mother’s epithet of “ nui- sance ” wabbling about the floor, under every one’s feet ; dropping down occasionally, anywhere, for slum- ber ; then up again ; forever in the way. Nevertheless, the family, with one exception, took kindly to the little thing, the only specimen of baby- hood the house had known for many years. The ex- ception was Augustus, the big gray cat, a handsome cat in appearance, especially in winter, but ugly in his temper all the year round. Gustus never could abide a ri^al. Next thing, of course, the young stranger must have a name; he never could go through life as “The Puppy,” merely. His nurse proposed the stock names. Carlo, Brunc, Hector, Caesar ; but Aunty hes- itated, and the infunt figured anonymously a few days longer. Aunty made up her mind and an- nounced it. ^'he famM^ad just been reading “ The Hoosier Schoolmaster T Said Aunty,,: His name shall be Shocky T Shocky! It wasn’t appropriate. The name sug- gested a long-haired, shaggy rascal, like him over the Shocky. 51 way. Besides, Miss Gret was not devoted to the original Sliocky ; she preferred ‘‘ Mr. Pete Jones,’’ that is, as an artistic delineation. But then, “ Pete Jones ” was no name for a dog of standing. The “Missis” was obdurate. “Shocky is his name ; ” and so of course it was. Shocky, then, became an institution. He grew in size and in appetite. One day a hot potato fell in his way ; he dined off it, and thenceforth bread-and- milk was contemned. He grew in mischief, too, and those stumpy legs of his carried him into places hitherto sacred and secure. He tore up his bed and gnawed holes in the carpj^^weePSg^nder chastise- ment, but repeating th^ffen^ Then he would run away, out in the street, a^ the family start in pur- suit, scattering in all directioi}^ to scour the country, and boys were hir.ed to^^bring intelligence, and to bring the dog if they could find him. In fact, he was no end of trouble. Yet, when held up “ to be reasoned with,” there was such an innocent look in his round young eyes, that he got off cheaply “ for that time,” ^ Augustus, however, was not to be propitiated. Shocky shared his dinners, and, eating with all his might, Gus was no match for the jaws on the other side of the plate. *‘They must learn to eat together,” said Miss Gret ; university of ILLWOW / 5 2 Shocky. she couldn^t have two dishes setting about. And so their meals were stormy scenes, to the perpetual music of growls and hisses. Miss Gret professed to sympathize with her cat. ‘‘He has supplanted you at the parlor fire,^^ she would say, fondling the feline bullet-head, “ and in every heart but mine. But you must fight it out.^’ And they did j and often, when the two had been left to “ keep house ’’ down-stairs of an afternoon, “ the Missis,’’ in her room, would hear the canine yell under Gus’s claws ; and then would come a tem- pest. There was no one to interfere ; “ the Missis ” was too lame to come down. Miss Gret was out, “ the girl” was sewing in the attic, and the combatants had it all to themselves. However, noisy as their con- flicts might be, they were seldom sanguinary ; for neither party had any idea of grappling with the other. So Shocky grew and grew, and at five months he was considerably larger than the cat. “ He must stop soon,” said Miss Gret, “ or he will never be a lap- dog as if Nature had not denied him such destiny from his birth ! He developed legs and a pair of croc- odile jaws. His moral instincts developed, too, and he became an arrant thief. “ He is a hunter,” “ the Missis ” said, determined to prove him a dog of Shocky^ 53 high degree ; but having no other warrant for it, in this instance, than the fact of his hunting the neigh- borhood for whatever he could carry off. What he might have done for wild fowl cannot be said : but he understood the pursuit of the tame sort : in other words, he could chase chickens with anybody. Boots and shoes were his favorite game, though he HIS FAVORITE GAME. never despised a scrubbing-brush, or an old hat, or even a “gent’s linen collar.” Edibles, too, of course ; meat and vegetables, anything that he thought could be of use in the family, whether he liked it himself or not ; and once a pound of butter in a paper, just as it had come from the store. He brought it all home as fast as his legs could carry him ; never had to wait for the gate to be opened, having learned to jump the / 54 Shocky. fence ; and very pretty he looked, rushing along with a towel or an apron flying like a banner behind him, He brought it all home and never took anything away again, being no “ retriever,” as far as the neighbors were concerned. “ Of what breed is our dog ? ” Miss Gret would inquire of any one at all up in dogs. “ He is light- brown, short-haired, medium-sized, with a brass collar and padlock.” The Fancy shook their heads. They couldn’t tell ; he might be a new variety. When the question was put to Mr. Gim (Mr. Gim was brother to the little lady who owned the rag-a-mufiin over the way), that gentleman looked hard at Shocky, and then he an- swered, bluntly enough : “ He is a curj^ Miss Gret was indignant. ‘‘ He is a hunting dog, of a new variety. I thought you knew dogs ! ” ‘‘ Had Shocky a grandfather ? ” inquired Mr. Gim, with the air of a jurist. ‘‘ I presume he had ; but I never felt at liberty to inquire into his family affairs ! ” and the lady marched off, taking the young hunter with her. When about half-grown, Shocky fell ill j not seri- ously, but enough to make hunting and fence-scaling onerous. Perhaps it was incidental to his habits, or Shocky. 55 to his peculiar breed, but something was the matter with his paw. A lump had formed ! It might be a cancer ! — he must be taken to the doctor. “ The Missis’’ herself had been ailing for weeks. It was nothing, she said, and would get well of itself ; but Shocky required medicine. So Miss Gret tied a string to the invalid’s collar and set out with him. But he proved contumacious ; he was not used to being led. He didn’t understand the string, and he wouldn’t put up with it. He jumped and circled and rolled over and over, and finally sat down, never to budge till set at liberty. And Miss Gret untied the string and bade him follow her. That he was willing to do ; did it gladly. He had never before been so far from home, and his escort watched him with much solicitude. But he kept on, quite gay, yet docile, till within a few yards of the doctor’s house. And there, on the steps, sat the doctor’s dog, a snarling, ill-conditioned object. Shocky scented a foe and stood still. The foe growled, bristled, stepped stiffly round and round, then turned, and chased the patient out of sight. The escort was panic-struck. She saw them go wheeling up the street, and thither followed in an- guish, as fast as propriety admitted, inquiring right and left, of all she met, nor staying for the answer • 56 Shocky. calling wildly, “ Shocky ! Shocky ! ” and looking this way and that for her cowering charge, or, it might be, for his maimed and bleeding corse. And so, in an agony of apprehension and self- reproach, she regained her home, to be met at the door by the irrepressible subject of her fears, with all the signs of joyful recognition. He seemed rather weary, and had come in, like Mr. Toodles, “uncommon dry,’’ but quite unharmed. He evi- dently thought he had had a good time, and was ready to try it again. The doctor prescribed without a personal interview. It was a case demanding some little white powders, to be taken at intervals of two hours, and a box of salve for local application as often as necessary ; that » is, as often as the patient twitched it off. And then began the treatment of the case. It was never difficult to get Shocky to eat, after he knew what he was eating ; but there was a course of investigation to be pursued beforehand, and the investigation, in this case, was fatal to the desired result. Finally, when several days’ restoratives had been fruitlessly dissipated, Mr. Van, a gigantic youth, who had no objection to the part of assistant “ nuss,” came to the rescue. With his great, strong hands he held the little brown mug as in a vice, and drew the S/ioc/cy. 57 jaws apart, while the head “nuss'^ shook the pow- ders in, clean and past recall. That worked well, and the patient improved as long as “ miss number two was on the ground. But there came a day when he must go, and then came more fruitless efforts. At last the “head nuss ’’ hit upon “ the most natural and obvious course.’^ Shocky was a dog of literary tastes ; at least, he had evei shown a liking for paper ; and so the “ nuss gave him his medicine, paper and all, and the dog got well. He is not gone, but he lives there still, in tes- timony to the value of homoepathic medicines thus administered ; and so, for the remainder of this sketch, we may as well use the present tense. Our subject is now in his fourth year; no longer a hunter, distinctively. He has become a setter — by the parlor fire, which he and Gus have learned to share in tolerable quiet. Also they eat in peace though not in amity, off the same platter, their noses often touching across the dish. A foe of a deadlier sort is in the field ; an ugly, brindled, bull-headed villain ; vicious-looking about the jaws and boastful about the tail; low in habits as in extraction; for what well-born dog would have a tail like a pig^s, with several curls in it, and ending in a sort of tuft over his back ? This desperado, nearly twice Shocky, Shocky’s size, parades the street in search of our thorough-bred, attended by a disgusting little cur as a sort of second, or, rather, reporter for the press. He has even- — the adversary — been known to leap the fence and invade Shocky’s own grounds, to pre- cipitate a conflict. His retreat on these occasions has been with ignominy, accelerated by hot water and various missiles, anything that came to hand. Un- happily, as yet, the water has failed to reach him, and none of the other missiles have struck. But Miss Gret says his time is coming. She keeps a hatchet under the back porch, hoping for a fair shot. “ And just let me catch him on Shocky ! He is too big to throttle, and I don^t want to get hurt ; but Til pound on his eyes till he loses the sight ! ’’ ‘‘ Not while I am about,’’ says “ the Missis.” “While I live he shall have a home and kind treatment.” ^ For “ tricks ” lie will sit on his haunches and give his paw. And when “ the Missis ” tells Miss Gret her errands he listens and remembers, and keeps Miss Gret in sight, never willing that she should “ go down town ” without him, except on Sunday, which day he knows very well, staying quietly at home with- our any fretting. He is not selfish, nor greedy, but he will deftly take scraps of cake from between your lips, not even touching your mouth with his own. Shocky, 59 And he will stand on his hind legs and catch bits of cake and other food ; or, what he likes even more, if not too hungry, a lamp-lighter. For his literary tastes are unimpaired, and should a poem, though never so “ weird and mystic,” be offered him, he would take it all in. Yet he is discriminating, too, “the Missis” says, and knows trash when he tastes it. And that suggests the propriety of submitting this memoir to his consideration. But we will show it to the public first. II. Augustus has his three meals all to himself now-a-days ; and he can sit on the fence and cat- erwaul by the hour if he wants to ; and the neigh- bors’ cats walk up and down the street and sit on the curb stones and wash themselves all unmolested. There is no “ patter of little feet ” down-stairs ; no little brown “mug” laid on “the Missis’” lap as she sits at table, and no gentle, brown eyes looking up into hers to ask for “ a piece of that.” There is no waltzing done when Miss Gret is ready to go down town ; and she goes alone — for Shocky is dead. “ Ah ! ” says Miss Gret remorsefully, “ if only I hadn’t taken him with me that afternoon ! ” 6o Shocky, The weather was intensely hot ; everything drooped ; the very earth panted, and Shocky took refuge in the cellar. “ He would be so much more comfortable there at night, said “the Missis,’’ “if he only thought so.” But he wouldn’t think so. He had been used to sleeping up-stairs, sometimes in “the Missis’” room, sometimes on the couch in the hall. When “the Missis” had his box taken down to the wood-bin and told him he should sleep there while the Dog star was raging, he said nothing; staid in it very sweetly in the daytime, but, when night came and the Dog star had subsided for a time, he barked and howled. So they let him out and didn’t try it again. It was dark down there, and damp and lonely. No wonder the poor fellow objected to making his bed in such a place. “ You’d rather roast above ground than be com- fortable a few feet under, wouldn’t you. Shock ? ” said Miss Gret that very Friday afternoon as he lay panting at her feet. It was too hot. He got up and went down-stairs. “ Do you mean to take Shocky with you ? ” asked “ the Missis,” when Miss Gret was ready for her trip. “ I suppose he must go,” Miss Gret replied. And Shocky. 6i Shocky, who had been listening to the music of her walking shoes, was capering on the stoop when she opened the door and told him he could go along. She noticed that his capering was less brisk than usual, though he jumped and circled and barked and scratched at the grass, and then ran over to tell the Rag-a-muffin that he was going out; and they had their accustomed race, Rag-a-muffin on his side of the fence and Shocky on the street. Then he trotted along, this way and that, spying out all the holes and corners, down “ areas and up front steps, peeping into the houses, chasing the cats, and pausing now and then for a word with other dogs. But Miss Gret saw that he was fagged long before they got home again. Such a weary little face he turned up to hers as he trudged along, his tongue lolling — it haunts her yet. And, after all, he wasn’t ready to come in and go to bed ; so Miss Gret left him out of doors and went and sat down by “ the Missis ” and told her all the news. And by and by, in the gathering darkness, Augustus came, contrary to his wont, and stretched himself on the white matting with the air of one whose rights are about to be restored. He was in advance of the times, however ; for Miss Gret arose 2 Shocky. /. and put him forth, telling him that it was better for his complexion in the open air. “Go let Shocky in,’’ ^‘the Missis ’’said at last. “ I hear him at the fence.” And at the fence they found him. He had tried to leap it and had failed, and there he lay on the other side, writhing in a fit, with Gus’s dilated eyes peering at him through the bars. “ He’s been poisoned ! ” cried Miss Gret in horror. “ He’s going to die ! ” and she ran across the street and called the Rag-a-muffin’s master. He said it was the heat. He’d seen many a dog just so. “ And, sometimes,” said he, “ they die. Go get some water.” Now, the one thing on earth that Shocky specially despised was water externally applied. Poor fellow 1 what times they used to have on Mondays to get him to take his bath 1 And perhaps it was the mention of water just then that brought him to himself ; for, when Miss Gret came with a basin full, he had strug- gled to his feet and stood panting in the path. It was so dark by that time that they could scarcely see where he was, but they heard him go gasping round the back of the house. The weather was clear and warm no harm could reach him there. Shocky, 63 He must stay out to-night/’ said Rag-a-muffin’s master, “ and in the morning if he acts starngely at all he must be tied.” They listened for him through the night ; but, alas, poor, little dog ! nothing could be quieter than he. There was an outside stairway leading up to “ the Missis’ ” room, and in the morning there lay the little brown figure, so still and rigid. He had been coming up to the best refuge that he knew, and death had over- taken him on the way. They brought his little quilt and covered him, and Wil- liam King was sent for to come and dig a grave. RAG-A-MUFFIN ON HIS SIDE OF THE FENCE AND SHOCKY ON THE STREET. / 64 Shocky. Down in the garden they made his bed for good and all ; and when it was ready Miss Gret wrapped the quilt around him, and carried him to his place and laid him gently in it. And then they covered him with loose earth.and banked it up with a shovel, and the funeral was over. William King shouldered his tools, and took his fifty cents and went home. Shocky was dead and buried, and ‘‘ the Missis ” looked around the silent place and felt as if her child was gone. There was his breakfast on a plate, and on the chair cover was a mark, so fresh it looked — the print of his little muddy paw. She almost felt his touch as, oh, so lately ! just before that walk down town a few hours ago, he had come in and licked her hand. And the poor, lame ‘‘ Missis grieves for her little friend. Sitting in her room alone, she fancies that she hears sounds here and there such as Shocky used to make — climbing the fence, stretching him- self out on the back stoop, or the one little stroke with his paw against the door in lieu of ringing the bell. When the door is opened she half expects to see him come trotting in. At night she dreams about him j thinks he is home again, hungry and tired, and promising never to run away any more. And, waking, she turns her eyes to where he used to stand Shocky, 65 of a morning silently watching her sleeping face ; and then comes the sudden thought, like something new and incredible — she remembers with a pang that Shocky is dead. • -f : p