ROVER number two, or Kimo, as he was called by the Indians, was a beautiful Newfoundland dog given to me by the Rev. Dr. Mark, of Ottawa.
My first introduction to him was a unique and exciting one. At Ottawa he was packed in a large box-like case and forwarded by express to me at the city of Hamilton, Ontario, where I was then staying and making my final arrangements for my return to the Red River. In those days there were three changes necessary on the railroad between Ottawa and Hamilton, and as there were long delays on the route it was the third day ere the dog arrived at his destination. No one had looked after him and so he had had neither food nor drink.
The result was he had become simply furious with his confinement and neglect. At Hamilton, he acted so wildly and violently that four expressmen were needed to get him up to the residence of Mr. Sanford. The plan they adopted showed that they were much afraid of the angry dog. They procured two long pieces of scantling, and placing them parallel on the ground, they succeeded in getting the box on the middle. Then each man taking an end, they placed the case, with its contents, on a large flat express waggon and took it to its destination. Here they drove it into the yard, and in the same cautious way they were lifting the box, dog and all, to the ground, when fortunately I happened to come along, and noticing that there was some excitement, I naturally asked what was the matter.
The reply was given in rather vigourous language, as they described the difficulties they had had in bringing up that savage dog to the house from the railroad station.
"Is he not securely boxed up?" was my next question.
"It is about the 'securely' of it, that we have been bothered" said one. "The fact is he has been making such desperate efforts to get out of that box, that we were fearful that he might succeed, and if he did - well, I did not want to be around there just then."
I watched them with a certain amount of amusement as I saw the actual terror of these men, for a glance showed me, that big as the dog was, he was so securely fastened in the great case that he was powerless to injure them.
After a lot of delays and time-wasting movements, they succeeded in placing the box on the ground and then one of them, producing his express book from his pocket, asked me whether I knew who the owner of the dog was, or whether there was some one there at the house with sufficient authority to sign the receipt form for the brute's delivery.
"The dog is mine, and I will sign your book," I answered.
"The dog yours!" they said in astonishment. " Why then, in all creation," said one of the men to me, with more amazement than politeness, " did not you speak to him to quiet him."
"Because," I replied, "I never saw the dog before. He was given to me by a friend in Ottawa, and your company or the railway have kept him for about three days on the route, and he is now about wild, as you see, with hunger, thirst and the irksome confinement."
"Well, what are you going to do with him?"
"First of all," I replied, "I am going to get him out of that big box."
"Going to do it alone?" one of them asked.
"Yes, I am," I answered.
"Well, just wait until we get out of this, will you?"
"Certainly," I replied, " but hurry, for the poor dog has been in there long enough."
So while I made preparations to relieve the dog, these four men throw the scantlings on the wagon, and turning the horses around, drove out of the yard. Then shutting the high, close gate, they took their position on the top of the wall to see me "devoured by that dog," as one of them put it.
From my knowledge of dog nature, I had all confidence in the quick and prompt plan I was going to adopt, and which I was not long in putting into practice. Going into the kitchen I obtained from the cook a generous dish of cold meat. The gardener furnished me with an axe and the stable boy with a large bucket of cold water.
Placing the meat and water where I could put my hand on them, the instant I wanted them, I quietly approached the box. Addressing the dog by the name given me in Dr. Mark's letter, I began to talk kindly to him, and also to vigourously cut into the back of that big, firm packing case.
At first, every blow and word seemed to make the dog, if possible, more wild and furious. At every blow struck on the outside of the box, he would spring at the place inside, until now my fears were aroused lest I should, as my axe cut through, badly injure him.
So cautiously, as well as rapidly, I rained the blows upon the box until piece after piece began to fly off.
All this time I was talking to him, and telling him that he had been treated most shamefully but his troubles would soon be over, that I would soon have him out, and that I had plenty of food and water for him.
When the boards began to split open and pieces to fly off from the back, and Rover saw the daylight, for the first time there, coming in, there was at once a change in him. Here he saw an opening for his escape, and in his anxiety to get out, his growls and angry barkings rapidly moderated.
Still soothingly talking to him, I kept cutting away until I saw where, with a strong wrench with my hand, I could pull off enough of the board to get him out. So dropping my axe and placing the pail of water close at hand, I suddenly jerked back the board and putting in my hand I caught the dog, now frantic with excitement at the prospect of immediate deliverance, by his collar, and helped him out of the box.
"Poor dog, it was a shame to so abuse you! Come along here is a good drink for you!" and almost before he knew where he was, I had his head in that pail of water, and for the first time in my life I saw a dog drink like a horse.
How he did enjoy it! It seemed as though he could not have enough. When I saw he was about satisfied, I had my meat dish handy, and I fed him out of my hand, piece after piece. It was well there was a large supply, for he was a big dog and of course very hungry. When thoroughly satisfied, he looked around and tried to take in the situation. It seemed to me that about all he just then cared to realize was that he had been in a horrid prison, thirsty and starving, and that I had come as his deliverer. I let him walk around the yard, then he went and had a good smell at that now smashed prison house, and then he came to me. His wagging tail and his great, intelligent eyes, now so full of gratitude, told their own tale. We were friends, the warmest of friends, from that hour to the end.
"That beats Barnum," said one of the four men, as they all clambered down off the wall and returned to their work.
That evening Rover and I took a long walk through the streets of the city of Hamilton. He kept close to my heels and did not seem to desire to see any other person than his new master who had come to his rescue and deliverance. He was a strong, faithful dog to the end, and always happiest when I was in sight. To train him to work as a sleigh dog all I had to do was to harness him up with three trained dogs and then go myself on ahead with another train. That was enough for Rover. He heard his loved master's voice in front, and his joy was ever to respond, and so on he would come, and fleet indeed must be the train I was driving, or very slow the dogs with which Rover was harnessed, ere he would be left behind.
Rover, like all of my civilized dogs, had not the hard, firm, compact feet of the Huskies. Hence, for him and others, I had to be prepared to overcome this defect as far as possible.
Various expedients have been devised, but we found that the best plan was to have a large stock of dog-shoes with us on every trip. These shoes were made of a firmly woven warm woollen cloth called duffle. The shoes were shaped very much like a man's mitten without the thumb. They were of various sizes so as to fit snugly to the injured foot, whether large or small.
Some winters there would be comparatively few injuries or frozen feet among my dogs. Then perhaps the very next season, hardly a dog escaped. While as a general thing these injuries were confined to my imported dogs or their descendants, yet there were winters when almost every dog I owned suffered, and all vied with each other in calls for the comfortable woollen shoes to be put on their feet.
The injuries to their feet from which they suffered were various. Sometimes a dog would freeze one of his feet. When this was found out - and as a general thing the dog was not slow to let us know of his trouble - we built a fire, and placing him near it on a deer skin, he, with his tongue and the heat, soon got the frost out of it. When this had been accomplished, we carefully tied a comfortable shoe upon it and generally he would be all right in a few days. This, however, was not always the case. I have had dogs with feet festered and bleeding for weeks from these cruel freezings. We were thankful when we were able to reach home and let the faithful animals rest for weeks, attended to most skillfully by Rover, the unique dog doctor, whose death is recorded in the previous chapter. Some dogs have very brittle nails. These are frequently breaking off in the rough trails, or getting torn out at the roots, thus making an ugly, painful wound. The ice on the great lakes and rivers is sometimes rough and very trying to the dogs. Even when it is smooth and glassy it at times affects them so that the pads of their feet become sore and bleed. The soft, warm dog-shoes were our remedies for all of these ills, and the sagacious dogs that had once enjoyed their benefits, were not slow in demanding them when they thought they were in need of them.
We had some difficulty, at first, in making some of the more nervous or suspicious dogs understand that these shoes were for their good. There were those who would endeavour to tear them from their feet, and had to be watched and even punished for so doing. However, it was not long before even these, having found out the comfort there was in them, were now willing to resort to all sorts of schemes and expedients to induce us to put these comfortable shoes on their suffering feet.
Rover soon became an adept in asking for his shoes. He was not satisfied with them on the one or two feet that seemed to need them. He decidedly thought that " prevention was better than cure," and so he wanted shoes on all his feet, every day we were travelling on long journeys. It was interesting to see how he would wait until we were ready to harness up the dogs, then he would deliberately throw himself on his back, and putting up his feet, eloquently even if mutely, thus plead for his warm shoes.
I did not have him very long. That fatal scourge of the dogs of the Northland, the distemper, robbed me of one of the truest, noblest dogs I ever harnessed. I made a large log-heap fire and tried to cremate him, but some starving pagan Indians dragged his big body out of the flames and feasted on it. Poor old Rover!