On going into the apartment where he had left his infant son and heir asleep, he found the bed-clothes all in confusion, the cover rent and stained with blood. He called on his child, but no answer was made, from which he hastily concluded that the dog must have devoured him; and, giving vent to his rage, plunged his sword to the hilt in Gelert's side. The noble animal fell at his feet, uttering a dying yell which awoke the infant, who was sleeping beneath a mingled heap of the bed-clothes, while beneath the bed lay a great wolf covered with gore, whom the faithful and gallant hound had destroyed. Llewellyn, smitten with sorrow and remorse for the rash and frantic deed which had deprived him of so faithful an animal, caused an elegant marble monument, with an appropriate inscription, to be erected over the spot where Gelert was buried, to commemorate his fidelity and unhappy fate. The place to this day is called Beth-Gelert, or the Grave of the Greyhound.
"Here never could the spearman pass,
Or forester, unmoved;
Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass
Llewellyn's sorrow proved.
And here he hung his horn and spear,
And oft, as evening fell,
In fancy's piercing sounds would hear
Poor Gelert's dying yell."
The bull-dog would appear the least likely to combat with a heavy sea, and yet the following circumstances are well authenticated: On board a ship, which struck upon a rock near the shore, there were three dogs, two of the Newfoundland variety, and one a small but firmly-built English bull-dog. It was important to have a rope carried ashore, and it was thought that one of the Newfoundland dogs might succeed; but he was not able to struggle with the waves, and perished; and the other Newfoundland dog, being thrown over with the rope, shared the same fate. But the bull-dog, though not habituated to the water, swam triumphantly to land, and thus saved the lives of the persons on board. Among them was his master, a military officer, who still has the dog in his possession.
Among the instances of sagacity, mingled with an affection for its master, may be mentioned those cases in which the dog notices or detects thefts, and restores lost or stolen articles to its master. An acquaintance of Lord Fife's coachman had put a bridle belonging to the earl in his pocket, and would have abstracted it, had he not been stopped by a Highland cur, that observed him, barked at him, and absolutely bit his leg. This was unusual conduct in the dog; but the wonder of the servants ceased when they saw the end of the bridle peeping out of the visitor's pocket; and it being delivered up, the dog became quiet. It is well known that in London, the other year, a box, properly directed, was sent to a merchant's shop to lie there all night, and be shipped off with other goods next morning, and that a dog, which accidentally came into the shop with a customer, by his smelling it, and repeatedly barking in a peculiar way, led to the discovery that the box contained not goods, but a rogue who intended to admit his companions and plunder the shop in the night-time.
A man who frequented the Pont Neuf in Paris, and whose business it was to brush the boots of persons passing by, taught his dog, which was a poodle, to roll himself in the mud, and then brush by gentlemen so as to soil their boots. In this way, the animal largely contributed to support the trade of his master.
There were two friends – one living in London, the other at Guildford. These were on terms of the greatest intimacy, and for many years it had been the custom of the London family to pass the Christmas with the one at Guildford. Their usual practice was to arrive to dinner the day before, and they were always accompanied by a large spaniel, who was as great a favorite of the visited as of the visitors.
At the end of about seven years, the two families had an unfortunate misunderstanding, which occasioned an omission of the usual Christmas invitation. About an hour before dinner, the Guildford gentleman, who was standing at the window, exclaimed to his wife, "Well, my dear, the W.'s have thought better of it, for I declare they are coming as usual, although we did not invite them; for here comes Cæsar to announce them;" and the dog came trotting up to the door, and was admitted, as usual, into the parlor.
The lady of the house gave orders to prepare beds; dinner waited an hour; but no guests arrived. Cæsar, having staid the exact number of days to which he had been accustomed, set off for home, and reached it in safety. The correspondence which subsequently occurred had the happy effect of renewing the intercourse of the estranged friends; and as long as Cæsar lived, he paid the annual visit in company with his master and mistress.
A terrier, belonging to the Marchioness of Stafford, having lost a litter of puppies, was quite disconsolate, till, perceiving a brood of young ducks, she immediately seized them, and carried them to her lair, where she kept them, following them out and in, and nursing them in her own way with the most affectionate anxiety. When the ducklings, obeying their instinct, went into the water, their foster-mother exhibited the utmost alarm, and as soon as they returned to land, she snatched them up, one by one, in her mouth, and ran home with them.
The next year, the same animal, being again deprived of her puppies, seized two cock chickens, which she reared with infinite care. When they began to crow, their foster-mother was as much annoyed as she had been with the swimming of the young ducks, and never failed to repress their attempts at crowing.
A man engaged in smuggling lace into France from Flanders, trained an active and sagacious spaniel to aid him in his enterprise. He caused him to be shaved, and procured for him the skin of another dog of the same hair and the same shape. He then rolled the lace round the body of the dog, and put over it the other skin so adroitly that the trick could not be easily discovered. The lace being thus arranged, the smuggler would say to the docile messenger, "Homeward, my friend." At these words, the dog would start, and pass boldly through the gates of Malines and Valenciennes in the face of the vigilant officers placed there to prevent smuggling.
Having thus passed the bounds, he would await his master at a little distance in the open country. There they mutually caressed and feasted, and the merchant placed his rich package in a place of security, renewing his occupation as occasion required. Such was the success of this smuggler, that, in less than five years, he amassed a handsome fortune, and kept his coach.
Envy pursues the prosperous. A mischievous neighbor at length betrayed the lace merchant; notwithstanding all his efforts to disguise the dog, he was suspected, watched, and discovered. But the cunning of the dog was equal to the emergency. Did the spies of the custom-house expect him at one gate, he saw them at a distance, and ran to another; were all the gates shut against him, he overcame every obstacle; sometimes he leaped over the wall; at others, passing secretly behind a carriage, or running between the legs of travellers, he would thus accomplish his aim. One day, however, while swimming a stream near Malines, he was shot, and died in the water. There was then about him five thousand crowns' worth of lace – the loss of which did not afflict his master, but he was inconsolable for the loss of his faithful dog.
A dog belonging to a chamois-hunter, being on the glaciers in Switzerland, with an Englishman and his master, observed the former approaching one of the crevices in the ice, to look into it. He began to slide towards the edge; his guide, with a view to save him, caught his coat, and both slid onward, till the dog seized his master's clothes, and preserved them both from inevitable death.
Dogs have a capacity to act upon excitements of an artificial nature. A dog, in Paris, at the commencement of the revolution, was known to musicians by the name of Parade, because he regularly attended the military at the Tuileries, stood by and marched with the band. At night he went to the opera, and dined with any musician who intimated, by word or gesture, that his company was asked; yet always withdrew from any attempt to be made the property of any individual.
The Penny Magazine furnishes a still more singular instance of the desire of excitement, in a dog which, for several years, was always present at the fires in London. Some years ago, a gentleman residing a few miles from London, in Surrey, was roused in the middle of the night by the intelligence that the premises adjoining his house of business were on fire. The removal of his furniture and papers, of course, immediately called his attention; yet, notwithstanding this, and the bustle that is ever incident to a fire, his eye every now and then rested on a dog, whom, during the progress of the devouring element, he could not help noticing, running about, and apparently taking a deep interest in what was going on – contriving to keep himself out of every body's way, and yet always present amidst the thickest of the stir.
When the fire was got under, and the gentleman had leisure to look about him, he again observed the dog, who, with the firemen, appeared to be resting from the fatigues of duty, and was led to make inquiries respecting him. Stooping down, and patting the animal, he addressed a fireman near him, and asked him if the dog were his.
"No, sir," replied the man, "he does not belong to me, nor to any one in particular. We call him the firemen's dog."
"The firemen's dog? Why so? Has he no master?"
"No, sir; he calls none of us master, though we are all of us willing to give him a night's lodging, and a pennyworth of meat; but he won't stay long with any of us. His delight is to be at all the fires of London, and, far or near, we generally find him on the road as we are going along; and sometimes, if it is out of town, we give him a lift. I don't think that there has been a fire for these two or three years past which he has not been at."
Three years after this conversation, the same gentleman was again called up in the night to a fire in the village where he resided, and, to his surprise, he again met "the firemen's dog," still alive and well, pursuing, with the same apparent interest and satisfaction, the exhibition of that which generally brings with it ruin and loss of life. Still he called no man master, disdained to receive bed or board from the same hand more than a night or two at a time, nor could the firemen trace out his ordinary resting-place.
To this long list, we might add many other anecdotes, in evidence of the varied powers of the canine family. We have endeavored to select those only which are well authenticated. Some of these are sufficiently marvellous, but there are many other well-attested accounts equally wonderful. Mr. Hogg seems to imagine that mankind are prepared to believe any thing in respect to dogs which partakes of the mysterious, and accordingly plays off the following quiet joke upon his readers: —
"It's a good sign of a dog when his face grows like his master's. It's proof he's aye glow'ring up in his master's e'en to discover what he's thinking on; and then, without the word or wave of command, to be aff to execute the wull o' his silent thocht, whether it be to wean sheep, or to run doon deer. Hector got so like me, afore he dee'd, that I remember, when I was owre lazy to gang to the kirk, I used to send him to take my place in the pew, and the minister never kent the difference. Indeed, he once asked me next day what I thocht of the sermon; for he saw me wonderfu' attentive amang a rather sleepy congregation.
"Hector and me gied ane anither sic a look! and I was feared Mr. Paton would have observed it; but he was a simple, primitive, unsuspecting old man – a very Nathaniel without guile, and he jaloused nothing; tho' both Hector and me was like to split; and the dog, after laughing in his sleeve for mair than a hundred yards, couldn't stand't nae longer, but was obliged to loup awa owre a hedge into a potato field, pretending to scent partridges."
THE WOLF
This is a fierce and savage beast, resembling in form and size the Newfoundland dog. It hunts in packs, and attacks deer, sheep, and sometimes even man himself. When taken young, it may be tamed. It is found in the northern portions of both continents. In North America, there are several varieties.
Miscellaneous Anecdotes.– Mr. Cuvier gives an account of a wolf that had all the obedience and affection that any dog could evince. He was brought up by his master in the same manner as a puppy, and, when full grown, was sent to the menagerie at Paris. For many weeks, he was quite disconsolate at the separation from his master, refused to take food, and was indifferent to his keepers. At length he became attached to those about him, and seemed to have forgotten his old affections.
On his master's return, however, in a year and a half, the wolf heard his voice among the crowd in the gardens, and, being set at liberty, displayed the most violent joy. He was again separated from his friend; and again, his grief was as extreme as on the first occasion.
After three years' absence, his master once more returned. It was evening, and the wolf's den was shut up from any external observation; yet, the moment the man's voice was heard, the faithful animal set up the most anxious cries, and, on the door of his cage being opened, he rushed to his friend, leaped upon his shoulders, licked his face, and threatened to bite his keepers when they attempted to separate them. When the man again left him, he fell sick, and refused all food; and from the time of his recovery, which was long very doubtful, it was always dangerous for a stranger to approach him.
A story is told of a Scotch bagpiper, who was travelling in Ireland one evening, when he suddenly encountered a wolf who seemed to be very ravenous. The poor man could think of no other expedient to save his life, than to open his wallet, and try the effect of hospitality; he did so, and the savage beast swallowed all that was thrown to him with such voracity, that it seemed as if his appetite was not in the least degree satisfied.
The whole stock of provisions was of course soon spent, and now the man's only resource was in the virtues of his bagpipe; this the monster no sooner heard than he took to the mountains with the same precipitation with which he had left them. The poor piper did not wholly enjoy his deliverance; for, looking ruefully at his empty wallet, he shook his fist at the departing animal, saying, "Ay! Are these your tricks? Had I known your humor, you should have had your music before your supper."
In Sweden, frequent attacks are made upon the people by wolves, during the winter, as they are then often in a famishing condition. In one instance, a party of sixteen sledges were returning from a dance on a cold and starlight night. In the middle of the cavalcade was a sledge occupied by a lady; at the back of the vehicle sat the servant; and at her feet, on a bear skin, reposed her favorite lapdog. In passing through a wood, a large wolf suddenly sprang out, and, jumping into the sledge, seized the poor dog, and was out of sight before any steps could be taken for his rescue.
A Swedish peasant was one day crossing a large lake on his sledge, when he was attacked by a drove of wolves. This frightened the horse so much that he went off at full speed. There was a loose rope hanging from the back of the vehicle that had been used for binding hay; to the end of this a noose happened to be attached. Though this was not intended to catch a wolf, it fortunately effected that object; for one of the ferocious animals getting his feet entangled in it, he was immediately destroyed, owing to the rapidity with which the horse was proceeding.
The poor man at length reached a place of safety. Though he had been dreadfully frightened during the ride, he not only found himself much sooner at the end of his journey than he expected, but richer by the booty he had thus unexpectedly gained – the skin of a wolf in this country being worth about two dollars and a half.
A peasant in Russia was once pursued in his sledge by eleven wolves. Being about two miles from home, he urged his horse to the very extent of his speed. At the entrance to his residence was a gate, which being shut at the time, the frightened horse dashed open, and carried his master safely into the courtyard. Nine of the wolves followed them into the enclosure, when fortunately the gate swung back, and shut them all as it were in a trap. Finding themselves thus caught, the animals seemed to lose all their ferocity; and, as escape was impossible, slunk into holes and corners, molesting no one, and offering no resistance. They were all despatched without further difficulty.
The prairie wolf is said to be wonderfully cunning and sagacious. Instances have been known of his burrowing under ground to procure the bait from a trap, rather than run the chance of being caught above. Many and curious are the devices prepared to ensnare this animal, but very few have succeeded. This variety of wolf is common in the prairies of the western country, where it hunts deer by running them down. Sometimes a large number associate together, and, forming a crescent, creep slowly towards a herd of deer, so as not to alarm them. They then rush on with hideous yells, and drive the poor animals towards a precipice, seeming to know that, when they are once at full speed, they will all follow one another over the cliff. The wolves then descend at leisure, and feed upon their slaughtered victims.
A farmer in France, one day looking through the hedge in his garden, observed a wolf walking round a mule, but unable to get at him on account of the mule's constantly kicking with his hind legs. As the farmer perceived that the beast was so well able to defend himself, he did not interfere. After the attack and defence had lasted a quarter of an hour, the wolf ran off to a neighboring ditch, where he several times plunged into the water.
The farmer imagined that he did this to refresh himself after the fatigue he had sustained, and had no doubt that his mule had gained a complete victory; but in a few minutes the wolf returned to the charge, and, approaching as near as he could to the head of the mule, shook himself, and spouted a quantity of water into the animal's eyes, which caused him immediately to shut them. That moment, the wolf leaped upon him, and killed the poor animal before the farmer could come to his assistance.
In the commencement of the reign of Louis XIV., of France, in the depth of winter, a party of dragoons were attacked, at the foot of the mountains of Jurat, by a multitude of wolves; the dragoons fought bravely, and killed many hundreds of them; but at last, overpowered by numbers, they and their horses were all devoured. A cross is erected on the place of combat, with an inscription in commemoration of it, which is to be seen at this day.
THE FOX
This animal, which resembles a small dog, is widely distributed over the colder portions of both continents. There are several species, as the red, gray, black, silver, arctic, &c. In all ages and countries, the fox has been remarkable for his cunning, and, from the time of Æsop to the present day, has figured, in allegory and fable, as the personification of artifice and duplicity.
Fruitless Enterprise.– A fox finding himself hard run by the hounds, at a hunt in Ireland, ran up a stone wall, from which he sprang on the roof of an adjoining cabin, and mounted up to the chimney-top. From that elevated station, he looked all around him, as if reconnoitring the coming enemy. A wily old hound approaching, and having gained the roof, was preparing to seize the fox, when, lo! renard dropped suddenly down the chimney. The dog looked wistfully down the dark opening, but dared not pursue the fugitive.
Meanwhile renard, half enrobed in soot, had fallen into the lap of an old woman, who, surrounded by a number of children, was gravely smoking her pipe, not at all expecting the entrance of this abrupt visitor. "Emiladh deouil!" said the affrighted female, as she threw from her the red and black quadruped. Renard grinned, growled, and showed his fangs; and when the huntsmen, who had secured the door, entered, they found him in quiet possession of the kitchen, the old woman and children having retired, in terror of the invader, to an obscure corner of the room. The fox was taken alive without much difficulty.
Unavailing Artifice.– Two gentlemen in New Jersey went out to hunt rabbits. In a low, bushy swamp, the dogs started a fox, and off they went in swift pursuit. After a chase of two miles, he entered a very dense thicket, and, making a circuit of the place, returned to the point whence he first started. The dogs closely pursuing the fox, he again started for the thicket, when one of the sportsmen shot at him, and he fell apparently dead at his feet. As he stooped to pick him up, however, he rose upon his legs and escaped. For two hours and a half, the thicket was the scene of the wiles of renard; but at last he was taken, and, being carried home by the men, was thrown, apparently quite dead, into the corner of the room.
The family sat down to supper. Finding them all busily engaged, he ventured to reconnoitre, and had cautiously raised himself on his fore legs for the purpose, but, on finding himself observed, resumed his quiescent state. One of the party, to ascertain whether the fox was alive or not, passed a piece of lighted paper under his nose; but the inanimate stone or log appeared not more senseless at that moment. Finding all attempts to get away unavailing, renard submitted to his destiny with a very good grace, and the next morning was as well as ever, bating a slight wound in the shoulder and a dirty skin.
Unexpected Resentment.– Some country people in Germany once caught a pike, but in conveying it home during the night, it escaped. As it was a large fish, they returned with torches to secure their prize, and after some time found it on the grass, having fast hold of a fox by the nose. The animal caught in this novel trap made every effort to escape, without success; and it was not until the pike was killed, that it was possible to separate them. It seems that, after the pike was dropped by the fisherman, renard came across it, and in paying his addresses to it, was received in the manner we have described.