23 



CASSELL'S POPULAR NATURAL HISTORY. 



THE ALPINE, OR GREAT ST. BERNARD DOG. 



SITUATED between Switzerland and Savoy, is one of the most dangerous pusses of tin- Alps. In these 

 regions the traveller is often overtaken by the most severe weather, even after days of cloudless 

 beauty, when the glaciers glitter in the sunshine, and the pink flowers of the rhododendron appear ;is 

 if they were never to be sullied by the tempest. But a storm suddenly comes on ; the roads arc 

 rendered impassable by drifts of snow ; the avalanches huge loosened masses of snow or ice are 

 swept into the valleys, carrying trees and rocks before them. 



Of the Monastery, nearly on the top of the Great St. Bernard, Rogers says : 



" It is a pile of simplest masonry, 

 With narrow windows and vast buttresses, 

 Built to endure the shocks of time ami chani r ; 

 Yet showing many a rent, as well it might, 

 Warred on for ever by the elements." 



Not a bush is to be found near the e;lifice ; even the wood for its fires is fetched from the Forest <>t 

 Fewet a distance of four leagues. Even in the height of"%ummer it always freezes there early in tin: 

 morning. The Hospice is rarely four months clear of snow ; its average depth around is seven or 

 eight feet, and sometimes there are drifts rising to the height of forty feet against it. 

 Its inmates have been pictured by Rogers as 



"Answering, and at once, to all 

 The gentler impulses to pleasure, mirth ; 

 Mingling, at intervals, with rational talk, 

 Music ; and gathering news from them that came 

 As of some other world. But when the storm 

 Rose, and the snow rolled on in ocean waves, 

 When on his face the experienced traveller fell, 

 Sheltering his lips and nostrils with his hands, 



Then all was changed ; and, sallying with their pac* 

 Into that blank of Nature, they became 

 Unearthly beings ! Anselm, higher up, 

 Just where it drifts, a dog howls loud and long, 

 And now, as guided by a voice from Heaven, 

 Digs with his feet. That noble vehemence 

 Whose can it be, but his who never erred ? 

 A man lies underneath! Let us to work ! " 



So, not merely in poetry, but in fact, it often occurs. It is a rule of the Monastery, that every day, what- 

 ever the weather may be, two able men, called mnronters, accustomed to the mountains, should pro. 

 ceed, the one towards the Italian side, the other towards the Vallais. They traverse the pass during the 

 whole of the day, each one attended by a dog with a flask of spirits fastened to his neck keeping 

 a path open in the snow, and watching for passengers. If the maronier meets with any person bewil- 

 dered or exhausted, or his dog intimates that any one is under the snow, he instantly renders aid, or 

 runs to the Hospice to gain assistance. Conducted thither, all that is practicable for the sufferer is 

 done promptly and zealously. 



The dogs originally were brought from Spain. The monks, having neglected to keep up a larger 

 stock of the old race, it was nearly destroyed by a malady, about forty years ago, when, from necessity, 

 the present race was introduced. One of them, named Barry, saved a great number of lives ; and 

 another dog, called Jupiter, was also veiy successful. In the year 1827, he saw some person pass the 

 Hospice, and immediately set out after him alone. After some time, his. absence was remarked, 

 and one of the maroniers, pursuing his track, found him posted over a drift of snow where a poor 

 woman, with her child, were about to perish. But these he was the instrument of saving from 

 death. 



Sir T. D. Lauder had a puppy of about four or five months' old, presented to him by Sir Henry 

 Dalrymple, who brought it from the Great St. Bernard. As he grew up, the l>;irk \' Mass, as lie was 

 called, became tremendous, so that his owner often distinguished it when nearly a mile off. To this 

 he was indebted for the recovery of the dog when stolen by some carters. One of the letter-carriers 

 heard its bark inside a yard, demanded it as belonging to Sir Thomas, and took it home. 



With a bark so terrific, Bass was exceedingly good-natured and playful so much so, indeed, that 

 Raith a small Ring Charles's spaniel tyrannized over him for many months of his early life. His 

 owner says : " I have seen the little creature run furiously at the great animal when gnawing a bone, 

 who instantly turned himself submissively over on his back, with all his legs in the air, whilst Uahh, 

 seizing the bone, would make the most absurd and unavailing attempts to bestride the enormous head 



