THE DINGO. 319 



fearfully mangled that it was a question whether it should not be shot at once, every- 

 thing like recovery seeming impossible. 



But I really think Neptune saved his life. The trusty friend applied himself so 

 carefully to licking his wounds, hanging over him with such tenderness, and gazing at 

 his master with such mute entreaty, that it was decided to leave the Dogs together 

 for that night. The devotion of the great Dog knew no change ; he suffered any of 

 the people to dress his friend's wounds, or feed him, but he growled if they attempted 

 to remove him. Although after the lapse of ten or twelve days he could limp to the 

 sunny spots of the lawn always attended by Neptune it was quite three months 

 before Charger was himself again, and his recovery was entirely attributed to Neptune, 

 who ever after was called Doctor Neptune, a distinction which he received with his 

 usual gravity. 



Now here I must say that Neptune was never quarrelsome. He was a very large 

 liver-colored Dog, with huge, firm jaws, and those small cunning eyes which I always 

 think detract from the nobility of the head of the Newfoundland ; his paws were pillows, 

 and his chest broad and firm. He was a dignified, gentlemanly Dog, who looked 

 down upon the general run of quarrels as quite beneath him. If grievously insulted, 

 he would lift up the aggressor in his jaws, shake him, and let him, go if he could go that 

 was all. But in his heart of hearts he resented the treatment his friend had received. 



So when Charger was fully recovered, the two Dogs set off together to the Hill of 

 Carrick, a distance of more than a mile from their home, and then and there set upon 

 the bull-dog. While we were at breakfast, the butler came in with the information that 

 something had gone wrong, for both Neptune and Charger had come home covered 

 with blood and wounds, and were licking each other in the little stable. This was 

 quickly followed by a visit from the bristly Lad of Carrick, crying like a child the 

 great rough-looking bear of a man because our Dogs had gone up the Hill and killed 

 his pup ' Bluenose.' * The two fell on him,' he said, * together, and now you could 

 hardly tell his head from his tail.' It was a fearful retribution ; but even his master 

 confessed that * Bluenose ' deserved his fate, and every cur in the country rejoiced 

 that he was dead." 



The DINGO, or Warragal, as it is called by the natives, is an inhabitant of Australia, 

 where it is found in the greatest profusion, being, indeed, a pest of no ordinary character 

 to those colonists who are employed in raising and maintaining large flocks of sheep. 



The color of this animal is a reddish-brown, sometimes plentifully sprinkled with 

 black hairs over the back and ribs, the legs retaining the ordinary ruddy hue. Its 

 muzzle is very sharp, as is generally the case with wild Dogs ; its ears are sharp, short, 

 and erect ; its tail is pendent and rather bushy ; and its eyes small, cunning, and 

 obliquely placed in the head. It was formerly thought to be an aboriginal inhabitant 

 of Australia, but is now allowed to be an importation from some source which is at 

 present uncertain. 



Large packs of these wild Dogs ravage the localities in which they have taken up 

 their residence, and have attained to so high a degree of organization that each pack 

 will only hunt over its own district, and will neither intrude upon the territory which 

 has been allotted to a neighboring pack of Dingos, nor permit any intrusion upon its 

 own soil. For this reason, their raids upon the flocks and herds are so dangerous 

 that the colonists were obliged to call a meeting, in order to arrange proceedings 

 against the common foe. Before the sheep-owners had learned to take effectual 

 measures to check the inroads of these marauders, they lost their flocks in such num- 

 bers that they counted their missing sheep by the hundred. From one colony no less 

 than twelve hundred sheep and lambs were stolen in three months. 



The tenacity of life which is exhibited by the Dingo is almost incredible, and it 

 appears to cling as firmly to existence as the opossum. Like the last-mentioned animal, 

 the Dingo appears to feign death when it finds that escape is impracticable, and often 

 manages to elude its opponents by the exercise of mingled craft and endurance. Mr. 

 Bennett, in his well-known " Wanderings," mentions several instances of the wonderful 

 tenacity of life exhibited by the Dingo, and the almost incredible fortitude with which 



