CUFFY was the most beautiful dog I ever owned. She was a thoroughbred Newfoundland of the short curly- haired variety. Every curl upon her seemed absolutely perfect, and they were apparently all of the same size. She was always an object of admiration to every lover of these noble animals. Even persons who had but little love for dogs would stop and admire beautiful Cuffy.
Like Jack, her inseparable companion, she was a gift from the late Senator Sanford, of Hamilton. In company with Jack, she reached our far-off northern home on the land of the Cree Indians, after a long journey of about three thousand miles. During this tedious trip, which occupied several weeks, these two dogs were on several lines of railroads and steamboats. When they reached the northern limits of these civilized methods of transportation, they were then transferred to an Indian skiff, and in this primitive boat, packed in with fur traders' outfits, they finished their long journey and reached our Mission none the worse for their many adventures. One thing that perhaps more than anything else deterred unprincipled dog fanciers from stealing either of them, was the pathetic engraving on the brass plates on the collar of each dog. It read as follows: –

“A poor Missionary's dog,
Please don't steal him.”

This proved a sufficient deterrent, and so my two valuable dogs reached me in safety. Years after, I travelled over that same wild route by which these dogs had come, and was not a little amused by hearing the comments of several persons, who admitted that they had cast covetous eyes upon those magnificent dogs, but had been restrained from stealing them by the warning legend on their collars.
Cuffy was not only very beautiful in appearance, but she was also so affectionate and docile in every way, that Mrs. Young speedily claimed her as her special possession, and the claim was never after disputed. She soon learned that she was considered the sole property of her mistress, and as a very natural result, she most decidedly constituted herself her alert protector. Woe to the strange dog that in Cuffy's jealous watchfulness came too near her beloved mistress. Size or sex made no difference. The intruder would be attacked with such fury that he was glad to beat an ignominious retreat, often without the slightest idea why he had received such a shaking. Very soon after this loving relationship had been established between Cuffy and her mistress the affectionate creature was ever striving to manifest her love. We were all amused by the persistent way in which she was ever constituting herself her mistress's footstool. No matter whether it was out for a walk in the wild woods during our brief pleasant summer time, or at home amidst household cares, the instant Mrs. Young sat down to rest, Cuffy would throw herself at her feet and in her mute but eloquent way, plead that her warm, curly body might have the honour of being her mistress's footstool. Then when the meals were announced and we gathered round the table, Cuffy would crawl under the table near to her mistress's feet and insist upon their being placed upon her side. If there was any delay in this being done, Cuffy would twist her head around and taking the feet carefully in her mouth, would place them where she desired them to rest. This being accomplished to her satisfaction, she would then remain perfectly still until the sitting or meal was ended.
She was very easily taught to fetch and carry, and nothing gave her greater pleasure than to be sent into other rooms for well- known articles. She became quite an adept at this work, but never equalled Jack, as some of his triumphs were simply marvellous. Cuffy acquired the art of opening every door in the house, when she was on the side where it opened from her, but she was completely foiled when the door opened towards her. With but a few lessons I taught Jack how to accomplish the feat, and he never had any difficulty afterwards, but poor Cuffy never could get possession of the knack of pulling the door towards her and thus opening it. However, this did not much bother her, if Jack happened to be about, and they were generally together; for after making an attempt on the door and as usual failing, she would march over to the spot where Jack was comfortably sleeping upon his fur rug, and unceremoniously seizing him by the ear, would lead him to the closed door and in expressive dog language would order him to immediately open it.
With this demand he always quickly complied, for Cuffy was a bit of a tyrant and, presuming on her sex, lorded it over him most thoroughly. In fact she had him in the most thorough subjection, and it often gave us lots of amusement to watch her coquettish and tantalizing ways, and Jack's patience and quiet dignity. Yet, like many a hen-pecked spouse, it seemed that the more she imposed upon him, the greater his love and jealous care.
The only battles that I recall having had with Jack, were on Cuffy's account, and battles royal they were. They came about in this way. The principal food for all my dogs was fish. During the winter months the fish are frozen so hard that they have to be thawed out ere they are fed to the dogs. When the dogs were at home the fish were thawed out at the hot kitchen fire and distributed among the hungry animals in the yard outside. Cuffy could not, or would not understand that she was not to take her large, oily fish into the house and there leisurely devour it on the study or dining-room floor. A big grease-spot on the floor or carpet seemed a trifling affair in comparison with her having to eat her supper in the bitter cold. Several times had I sternly reproved her, and put her outside, to finish her fish with the other dogs. Finding at length that scoldings were of no avail, and some protests coming in from other quarters about carpets being ruined, I was at length obliged to resort to stern measures, and so one evening, when her actions had been unusually provoking, I took her out and gave her a real good whipping. As she had never before been whipped, she did not at first realize what it meant. However, I was resolved that she should know, and know so thoroughly, that the whipping would not have to be repeated, and so I continued the use of the lash until she began to vigourously cry out under its infliction.
Anticipating trouble from yet another quarter, I had prepared for the emergency. I had placed near at hand a large heavy oak axe handle, and it turned out fortunate enough for me that I had such a formidable weapon. Just as I had expected, Jack's blood was up as soon as he heard Cuffy's cries. He was on the opposite side of the large yard and busily engaged in eating his second fish. Suddenly springing up, he was a splendid sight as there he stood for an instant, head up, ears alert, and with his foot on his coveted, half-devoured fish. As Cuffy's cries continued, with a rush and a roar the enormous fellow came for me.
I knew, from some exciting experiences I had had with angry dogs in the past, that my dog-whip was of but little avail in the battle before me, and so I quickly exchanged it for the heavy axe-handle. And I had to be quick about it, for it did not take the now thoroughly angry dog long to dash across the yard and plunge recklessly at me for the rescue of his beloved mate. However, I was ready for him; and so, as he sprang viciously at me I was able to strike him such a blow that I knocked him completely over. In an instant he was up again, and once more he sprang at me just as viciously as before. However, I was on my guard, and again, with all my might, I struck him on the side of his head. He went down all in a heap, and at first I thought I had killed him.
But this was only for a few seconds. Then he was up, and again he charged me. My third blow completely dazed him, so much so that when he rallied from it he skulked off to the kennels. Next day he was distant and sulky, and it was evident that we were to have another battle ere the question as to which was master would be settled. The decisive battle came off a few days after. As I had been obliged so abruptly to leave off punishing Cuffy and fight for my life against Jack, her ladyship had become possessed with the idea that the victory had been on their side, and that she could do as she liked. The result was that one evening shortly after, she marched into the dining-room with a large fish, and there on the carpet began leisurely to devour it. And, furthermore, when requested to take up her fish and go outside she most decidedly, with ruffled curls and angry growls, refused to do anything of the kind.
It was quite evident that things were coming to a crisis in the dog kingdom. Had Jack encouraged her to thus act, and were other dogs in sympathy with her and also getting ready to go on strike against authority?
No matter, whatever it is it must be met and settled, and settled in such a manner that it will not be repeated. The first thing I did was to shut Jack up in the fish house. Then I went for Cuffy. I gave her a most thorough trouncing. Before I was through with her, she found out who was master, and never did she growl at me again.
During her castigation she had cried bitterly. These cries had terribly excited Jack. Like a caged lion, he had growled and raged in his prison abode, out of which he had made the most desperate attempts to escape. He smashed the few panes of glass in the window of the fish house, but the window was too small and high for him to struggle through.
When I had thoroughly conquered Cuffy, and we were good friends again, I armed myself with the same axe handle I had used before, and then went to have it out with Jack. The instant I unlocked the door, I sprang back on my guard. Without any hesitancy and just as viciously as before he sprang at my throat. I am confident that if I had slipped or missed him, he would have killed me. But I did not miss him. My muscles were strong and hardened by the vigourous exercise of that wild Northland, and so it was possible for me to strike a blow like a blacksmith. Big as he was and weighing nearly two hundred pounds, he went down under that blow as though shot. His recuperative power seemed marvellous. Again and again he came for me, but in every instance I was thus able to throw him over. At length he began to lose heart in his rushes, and then, after receiving a specially ugly clip on the jaw, his opposition ceased and all the fight seemed suddenly to go out of him, and there the great big fellow lay sprawled out on the ground and coolly looking at me.
Now, for the first time since the commencement of the conflict, I spoke to him:
"Jack! What do you mean by this? I am ashamed of you! Come here! Come at once! How dare you act like this!" Thus talking to him, I stretched out one of my hands to him, and at once he began crawling towards me. As he slowly came crouching to my feet and the big tail began wagging, I saw that the dog was conquered. Throwing away the big club, I fearlessly met him half-way and at once began stroking the great head, on which I had, such a short time before, rained such heavy blows. Jack was conquered, and so was Cuffy, and from that day forward, my word was law, and never again did either of them receive a blow.
The writing of these battles with my noble dog has been the most unpleasant part of my work. Some readers may perhaps chide me as having been too severe in my methods. But it must be remembered that in such conflicts the man or the dog must be the master. The punishment at the time seemed severe but it never had to be repeated. For eleven years Jack was obedient and true, and never after that last battle was he struck again.
As might have been expected from her Newfoundland origin, Cuffy was very fond of the water. She was a splendid swimmer, and with Jack as her companion spent several hours each day in the lake, on the shores of which we dwelt, during the few warm months of our brilliant summer. She would generally remain in the water long after Jack had felt that he had had quite enough swimming for that day. He, however, would never lose sight of her until she had become thoroughly satisfied with her joyous sportings in the waves. When at length she returned to the shore, great indeed was his delight, and noisily demonstrative his welcome. Then most thoroughly would she impose upon him. Instead of swimming east where there was a pleasant sandy beach, and there easily walking ashore, her ladyship would swim directly towards the spot on the steep rocky shore where Jack was visible, and there insist* upon him helping her up at that precipitous place. This was not always an easy job. If Jack had happened to be where the rock rose only a short distance above the water, he could reach down and, seizing her by the back of her neck, help her to scramble to shore. Sometimes, however, it happened that when Cuffy started for the land, Jack would be perched on one of the highest points of the rocky shore. Then the fun would begin. Jack, apparently conscious of the trouble ahead, would carry on in the most frantic manner, and seemed to be trying to tell the obstinate dog that she was coming to the wrong place. But not a whit cared Cuffy. To that spot would she swim, and when she reached it she would raise herself up as high as she could and then howl and cry for assistance.
Poor Jack! He was simply wild with excitement. In vain would he reach down as far as he could, and bark back to her, in response to her howlings. Various were the expedients which he used to try to help her out. One of the most ingenious plans, and which displayed a good deal of reasoning power, was to rush off to a pile of old rubbish or lumber and there select a long, thin stick. Carrying this back to the steep, he would drop one end of it over to Cuffy. He would then vigourously haul on at the other end, and soon land her on the shore, greatly to his delight. Never, however, did any of us observe her appear to express the slightest gratitude for all his solicitude or clever expedients for her rescue. She just accepted it all as a matter of course, and, as usual, snubbed him on the first occasion afterward.
One of her great delights when in the water was to frolic with some large sturgeon which I had secured in the lake near the shore. These sturgeon are only to be caught during a few weeks, and then they swarmed in great numbers on our shores. They were caught in large gill-nets by the Indians, and brought alive to the Mission. Their meat when fresh is much superior to what it is when salted. The result was we resorted to various expedients to keep these great sturgeon alive, until we wished to use them. Some of them were ten feet long. One plan was to make a sturgeon pond in some sheltered bay. This answered very well when we had a large number of them, but if there were only a few in that pond, they became so wary and cunning, that it was very difficult to capture one when desired.
A very common plan was to have a few swimming in the lake each fastened to the end of a long rope. These ropes were of soft cotton and from sixty to one hundred feet long. One end was so fastened to the sturgeon's head that it caused no pain or inconvenience. The other end of the rope was secured at the shore. Sturgeon are very powerful fish and are able to give a strong pull. Being thus tied did not seem to trouble them much, and so they gambolled and played as much as usual before us. Nothing pleased Cuffy more than to plunge into the water among them and to take a part in the fun. At first when she used to thus spring in among them, they would all dive down and lie quietly at the bottom. After a while some of them at least did not seem to mind her and played about as usual.
There was an especially large one, that became quite friendly with Cuffy, although the dog never seemed to understand how it was that the fish could so quickly get out of sight. One great trick of Cuffy's was to firmly seize hold of the tail of the great fish. The instant the sturgeon would feel this, down it would quickly dive, dragging Cuffy completely out of sight. It would not however be very long before the dog, sputtering and blowing, would come to the surface and quickly strike out for the shore. Here she would cough and sneeze at a great rate until she had forced all the water out of her lungs. This sudden and doubtless unexpected plunge into the depths, did not in any way discourage the plucky dog and so, as soon as the sturgeon was up and apparently looking for its old playmate, Cuffy would plunge in to renew this most unique sport.
We used up all the other sturgeon ere we cast our hungry eyes on Cuffy's queer playmate. We let it live, and they enjoyed their strange gambols together, until the winter was close at hand and the water had become so icy cold that it seemed cruel to allow Cuffy to plunge into it. Then we feasted upon it. But what an attraction it would have made for an enterprising showman!
Living on fish, as we were obliged to do in those days, for nearly all the winter months, it was a great pleasure to go off to the goose hunt in the spring with the prospect of returning with a number of those splendid game birds. I will tell of Cuffy's first encounter with an old goose, which, although wounded, had still enough fight in him to keep at bay for a time even the redoubtable Cuffy.
As was but natural, I felt quite proud when I saw my first wild goose drop, slowly it is true, from the passing flock at which I had fired, and light with a broken wing far out on the distant ice-field. I had with me one train of dogs. These I had ordered to crouch low at my feet while I fired. Cuffy's quick eye was the first to catch sight of the wounded goose, even while it was high up in the air, and observe its desperate efforts to stay with its fellows. When this was impossible and it began to descend, I quickly unharnessed the eager dog. The instant the goose alighted, at a distance of at least three-quarters of a mile away, I gave Cuffy a cheery word, and let her go.
Quickly reloading my gun I sprang on my dog-sled and as rapidly as we could travel, we followed after. Hampered as we were by Cuffy's dangling harness, we could not make very rapid progress, but we did get near enough to see the battle between Cuffy and that wild goose. At first the goose, by rapid running, aided by its one wing, tried to get away from the dog. When, however, it found out that this was impossible, it suddenly stopped and stood on the defensive. With a bark of anticipated easy triumph, Cuffy recklessly rushed in to seize the goose. But alas, what a humiliation! Before that dog knew what had happened, she was lying on her back on the ice and fairly howling with rage and pain. With one quick blow, with his uninjured wing, that old goose had struck that dog such a blow that under its terrific force she was knocked over and dazed by it.
But Cliffy was a very gamey dog and so she was soon up and at it again. Another humiliating fall or two awaited her and taught her to be wary. So as she sprang at the goose again, she feinted in her rushes. Then when she had thrown the goose off his guard she made a quick rush, and just as we reached her it was all over with that goose.
Cuffy's head was sore for days after. The goose was a tough old gander and so we hung him up for some weeks, ere we considered him tender enough to be tackled as a specially dainty article of food.
Cuffy served me well for a number of years as one of my finest sleigh dogs. She took to the work very easily and never had she to be whipped or even scolded when in harness. A cheery word was all that was necessary to induce Cuffy to do all that she could do. With Jack she was privileged above all the other dogs at the wintry camps. When blizzards howled over us, and the cold was so terrible that the spirit thermometer indicated anywhere in the neighbourhood of fifty or sixty degrees below zero, these two dogs were permitted to sleep on, and sometimes under, my fur robes to help keep me from freezing to death.