What, not one bit for me?"
Only cut a slice from the exterior of the joint - a piece that he
knows you will not eat - and watch, the change and eagerness of
his expression; he knows as well as you do that this is intended
for him - he has reasoned upon it.
This is the simple and every-day performance of a common
house-dog. Observe the pointers in a field of close-cut stubble
- two well-broken, reasonable old dogs. The birds are wild, and
have been flushed several times during the day, and the old dog
has winded them now in this close-cut stubble, from which he
knows the covey will rise at a long range. Watch his expression
of intense and yet careful excitement, as he draws upon his game,
step by step, crouching close to the ground, and occasionally
moving his head slowly round to see if his master is close up.
Look at the bitch at the other end of the field, backing him like
a statue, while the old dog still creeps on. Not a step farther
will he move: his lower jaw trembles with excitement; the guns
advance to a line with his shoulder; up they rise,
whiz-z-z-z-z-z-z! - bang! bang! See how the excitement of the
dog is calmed as he falls to the down charge, and afterward with
what pleasure he follows up and stands to the dead birds. If
this is not reason, there is no such thing in existence.
Again, look at the sheep-dog. What can be more beautiful than to
watch the judgement displayed by these dogs in driving a large
flock of sheep? Then turn to the Mont St. Bernard dog and the
Newfoundland, and countless instances could be produced as proofs
of their wonderful share of reasoning power.
The different classes of hounds, being kept in kennels, do not
exhibit this power to the same amount as many others, as they are
not sufficiently domesticated, and their intercourse with man is
confined to the one particular branch of hunting; but in this
pursuit they will afford many striking proofs that they in like
manner with their other brethren, are not devoid of the
reasoning power.
Poor old "Bluebeard!" - he had an almost human share of
understanding, but being simply a hound, this was confined to elk
hunting; he was like the foxhunter of the last century, whose
ideas did not extend beyond his sport; but in this he was
perfect.
Bluebeard was a foxhound, bred at Newera Ellia, in 1847, by F. J.
Templer, Esq. He subsequently belonged to F. H. Palliser, Esq.,
who kindly added him to my kennel.
He was a wonderful hound on a cold scent, and so thoroughly was
he versed in all the habits of an elk that he knew exactly where
to look for one.
