Chapter Six. Tame Dogs - Book of zoology for boys by Mayne Reid
Perhaps of all other animals the dog has been the earliest and most constant companion of man. His swiftness and strength, but more especially his highly-developed power of smelling, have made him a powerful ally against the other animals; and these qualities must have attracted the attention of man at an early period—particularly in those times when the chase was, perhaps, the only pursuit of mankind.
No animal is more widely distributed over the earth. He has followed man everywhere; and wherever human society exists, there this constant and faithful attendant may be found—devoted to his master, adopting his manners, distinguishing and defending his property, and remaining attached to him even after death.
It is a question among naturalists as to what was the parent stock of the dog. Some allege that he has sprung from the wolf; others that he is a descendant of the jackal; while not a few believe that there were true wild dogs, from which the present domesticated race had their origin. These ideas are mere speculations, and not very reasonable ones either. It would not be difficult to show, that different kinds of dogs have sprung from different kinds of animals—that is, animals of the same great family—from wolves, foxes, jackals, zerdas, and even hyenas. This can be proved from the fact, that domesticated breeds among savage tribes, both in Asia and America, are undoubtedly the descendants of wolves and jackals: such, for instance, as the Esquimaux dog of the Arctic regions, the Dingo of Australia, the Indian dogs of North America—of which there are several varieties—and also one or two kinds existing in Mexico and South America.
Naturalists deny that there are any true dogs living in a wild state. This is simply an unreasonable assertion. Wild dogs of several species are to be met with in Asia and America; and if it be asserted that these originally came from a domesticated stock, the same cannot be said of the hunting dog of Southern Africa—which is neither more nor less than a wild hound.
Perhaps none of the animals that have submitted to the conquest of man have branched off into a greater number of varieties than this one. There are more kinds than either of horses or oxen. We shall not, therefore, attempt a description of each; but limit ourselves to speak of those breeds that are the most remarkable—or rather those with which the reader is supposed to be least familiar. To describe such varieties as the spaniel, the greyhound, the mastiff, or the terrier, would not add much to the knowledge which the English reader already possesses.
One of the most remarkable of dogs is the huge mastiff of Tibet. He is long-haired, and usually of a jet black colour. He is quite a match in size for either the Newfoundland or San Bernard breeds, and not unlike one or the other—for it may be remarked, that these in many points resemble each other.
The Tibet dog, as his name implies, is the property of the Tibetians: especially the Bhootees—the same people who own that curious species of cattle, the Yäk, or grunting ox, and who reside on the northern slopes of the Himalaya mountains. It may be inferred, therefore, that the Tibet dog affects a cold climate; and such is in reality the case. He cannot bear heat; and does not thrive, even in the kingdom of Nepaul. Attempts to introduce the breed into England have resulted in failure: the animals brought hither having died shortly after their arrival.
The masters of these dogs—the Bhootees, or Bhoteas, are a singular race, of a ruddy copper colour, rather short in stature, but of excellent disposition. Their clothing consists of furs and woollen cloths, adapted to the cold climate which they inhabit. The men till the ground, and keep yäks and sheep, and sometimes come down into the warm plains to trade—penetrating even to Calcutta. The women remain at home, their only protectors being these great dogs, who watch faithfully over their villages and encampments, and fly fiercely at any stranger who may approach them. It is said that they are especially hostile to people who have a white face; but this disposition is also characteristic of the dogs belonging to the American Indians—and perhaps those possessed by all savages with a coloured skin.
The Dingo, or dog of Australia, is an animal domesticated among the aborigines of that country. He is a dog of wolf-like shape, who does not bark, but utters only a mournful howling. He is used by the wretched natives both for the chase and as an article of food; and is a fierce and voracious creature—not hesitating to launch himself on the larger kinds of animals. He is especially employed in hunting the kangaroo; and sometimes terrible combats occur between the dingo and the larger species of kangaroos—resulting always in the death of the latter.
The San Bernard dog, supposed to be a cross between the mastiff and shepherd’s dog, is too celebrated to require a description here. His sagacity in discovering travellers amid the Alpine snows, and guiding them upon their path, is the quality upon which the fame of this dog has been founded; but it may be remarked that many of the feats attributed to him have their origin in the fertile fancies of Parisian writers.
The Esquimaux dog is another celebrated variety. He is an animal with a fox-like face and thick coat of whitish hair, generally tinged with yellow. He is to the Esquimaux a most valuable companion: trained to draw their sledges over the surface of the snow, and enabling them to make long and rapid journeys—without which these singular people would be ofttimes in danger of perishing amid the inhospitable regions they inhabit.
The Indians of North America possess two or three varieties of domesticated dogs, evidently derived from the wolves of that region. Indeed, the common Indian dogs, found among the Sioux and other northern tribes, bear so close a resemblance to the large American wolf, that they are often taken for this animal, and in consequence shot, or otherwise killed by mistake. The Indians use them for carrying burdens: their tents and tent poles being transported by these animals on long journeys across the prairies. Their flesh is a favourite article of the savage cuisine; but it is too costly to be used as an every-day food; and is only served up on grand festive occasions. Like the dogs of Tibet, these Indian wolf dogs have the greatest antipathy to a white skin; so much so, that even a friend in that guise can rarely obtain either their confidence or friendship.
A smaller kind than the common one is found among certain tribes, and appears to have derived its origin from the prairie wolf—the jackal of America—while the Hare Indians of the Rocky Mountains possess a third variety; and it is known that still another exists among the tribes of Russian America. This last is short-haired and smooth-coated: therefore differing altogether from the Indian dogs of the prairies.
In Mexico, there are two or three native dogs: found there on the arrival of Europeans. One is the Alco—a dog remarkable for a curious hunch or protuberance upon the back and shoulders, a thick short neck, and small pointed muzzle. He is thinly covered with long hair, of a yellowish colour.
Another singular variety is the dog of Chihuahua and this is, perhaps, the smallest of all canine creatures. Full-grown specimens have been seen, whose dimensions did not exceed those of the common rat; and a singular fact, well authenticated, is, that this dog, when transported from Chihuahua to any other place—even to the city of Mexico itself—invariably becomes larger, or degenerates, as the Mexicans have it! There is also in Mexico a hairless dog. It is, no doubt, the same as that known by the name of Turkish dog; since this variety came originally from Spanish America.
In South America, there are several species of native dogs, found among the savages of the Orinoco and Amazon. They are small animals, usually of a whitish colour: but their owners follow the curious practice of dyeing them with annatto, indigo, and other brilliant dyes, for the purpose of rendering them more ornamental!
We can only find space to say that there are many other varieties of domesticated dogs, almost unknown beyond the countries in which they are found. Such are the Quao of Rhamgur, the Sumatran dog, the Poull of New Ireland, the dogs of Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego—those of the South Sea Islands; and the Waht that inhabits some of the ranges of the Himalayas.
It is reasonable to suppose that there is not a nation upon earth, hardly a tribe—civilised or savage—that does not possess some variety of the canine race differing from all the others.