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| The Dingo
Australia was, and some of it still
continues to be, overrun by the native wild dogs. Dampier describes
them, at the close of the 18th century, as
"beasts like the hungry wolves, lean like so many skeletons, and being
nothing but skin and bone."
It was not until the publication of Governor Phillip's voyage to Botany
Bay, that any accurate description or figure of this dog could be
obtained. He approaches in appearance to the largest kind of shepherd's
dog. The head is elongated, the forehead flat, and the ears short and
erect, or with a slight direction forwards. The body is thickly covered
with hair of two kinds — the one woolly and gray, the other silky and of
a deep yellow or fawn colour. The limbs are muscular, and, were it not
for the suspicious yet ferocious glare of the eye, he might pass for a
handsome dog. The Australasian dog, according to M. Desmarest, resembles
in form and in the proportion of his limbs the common shepherd's dog. He
is very active and courageous, covered in some parts with thick hair
woolly and gray, in other parts becoming of a yellowish-red colour, and
under the belly having a whitish hue. When he is running, the head is
lifted more than usual in dogs, and the tail is carried horizontally. He
seldom barks. Mr. Bennett observes that
"dogs in a state of nature never bark. They simply whine, howl, or
growl. The explosive noise of the bark is only found among those that
are domesticated."
Sonini speaks of the shepherds' dogs in the wilds of Egypt as not having
this faculty; and Columbus found the dogs which he had previously
carried to America, almost to have lost their propensity to bark.
He does, however, occasionally bark, and has the same kind of snarling
voice which the larger dogs generally have. The Australasian dogs that
have been brought to Europe have usually been of a savage and
untractable disposition.
There were several of the Australasian dogs in the gardens of the
Zoological Society of London. One of them had been an inmate of that
establishment nine years, others more than five years; but not an
individual has acquired the bark of the other dogs by which they are
surrounded. When a stranger makes his appearance, or when the hour of
feeding arrives, the howl of the Australasian is the first sound that is
heard, and it is louder than all the rest.
If some of them have thrown off a portion of their native ferocity,
others retain it undiminished. A bitch and two of her whelps, nearly
half grown — a male and female — had inhabited the same cage from the time
that the young ones were born. Some cause of quarrel occurred on a
certain night, and the two bitches fell upon the dog and perfectly
destroyed him. There was not a limb left whole. A stronger instance of
the innate ferocity of this breed could scarcely be given. Even in their
native country all attempts perfectly to domesticate them have failed;
for they never lose an opportunity to devour the poultry or attack the
sheep. Every domesticated dog coming within their reach was immediately
destroyed. One that was brought to England broke his chain — scoured the
surrounding country — and, before dawn, had destroyed several sheep; and
another attacked, and would have destroyed, an ass, if he had not been
prevented.
Mr. Oxley, Surveyor-General of New South Wales, however, gives an
interesting account of the mutual attachment between two of the native
and wild New Holland dingos.
"About a week ago we killed a native dog, and threw his body on a
small bush. On returning past the same spot to-day, we found the body
removed three or four yards from the bush, and the female in a
dying-state lying close beside it: she had apparently been there from
the day the dog was killed. Being now so weakened and emaciated as to
be unable to move on our approach, it was deemed a mercy to despatch
her."
When Van Diemen Land began to be colonized by Europeans, the losses
sustained by the settlers by the ravages of the wild dogs were almost
incredible. The districts infested by these animals were principally
those appropriated to sheep, and there was scarcely a flock that did not
suffer. It was in vain to double the number of shepherds, to watch by
night and by day, or to have fires at every quarter of the fold; for
these animals would accomplish their object by stratagem or by force.
One colony lost no fewer than 1200 sheep and lambs in three months;
another colony lost 700.
The ravagers were either the native wild dogs of the island, or those
that had escaped from their owners. They seemed to have apportioned the
country into different districts, each troop having its allotted range.
At length the evil became so great that a general meeting of the
colonists was convened. The concluding sentences of the speech of
Lieutenant Hill forcibly express the extent of the evil.
"The country is
free from bush-rangers: we are no longer surrounded and threatened by
the natives. We have only one enemy left in the field; but that enemy
strikes at the very root of our welfare, and through him the stream of
our prosperity is tainted at its very source."
The colonists were then
few, but they cordially united in the endeavour to extirpate this
formidable enemy; and, although the wild dog is still found in the
interior of the island, he is comparatively seldom seen, and his ravages
have ceased.
Back to: Wild Dogs
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