NORTH COUNTRY FARM ANIMALS.
IN the Northern and Border counties of England the habits of many of the domestic animals, both in relation to each other and to man, differ in a great measure from the ordinary behaviour of the same creatures in the South. This is not accompanied by any increase of wildness, or by the slightest tendency to show themselves independent of man, otherwise than by saving him a great deal of unnecessary trouble. They are rather like thoughtful farm-servants, taking pains, some to make themselves useful, and others, which are not expected to serve man directly, being apparently always desirous to "behave themselves distinctly," like the elder generation of Dandie Dinmont terriers. As an instance, let us take a scene under the walls of the ancient castle of the Cliffords at Brougham late on an August after- noon. Round and below the russet-coloured walls and towers of the fortress lies a rich pasture, like a small park, on which the ancient owners fed the reserve of cattle kept as an "emer- gency ration" within sight of the warders on the battlements. Over this wide meadow some fifty milch-cattle were feeding in great contentment, when two dogs entered the field entirely alone, trotted past the castle walls, crossed what appeared to be a nearly dry feeder of the moat, and then sat down and viewed the situation. Anywhere but in the North two dogs going out for an expedition alone would certainly be on mischief bent, either poaching or cattle-chasing. Not so these. After a little play and scampering about they set off to the furthest side of the meadow, several hundred yards away, and "rounded up" the whole of the cattle, without any barking or
unnecessary fuss. In a few minutes the whole herd were moving down to the narrow neck between the castle and the river, close to which runs the road, leading past a large farm. At intervals one or other of the cows went down to the river to drink. When this occurred one dog trotted off, sat down by the cow till it had finished drinking, and then either sent it after the rest, or followed it, allowing it plenty of time to drink comfortably. It was then noticed that the gate had been set open. Through it the dogs took the whole herd, and then up the road to the milking sheds. Thus, except in opening the gate, the human workers on the farm had no further trouble in fetching in a herd of fifty cattle, some of which were a quarter of a mile away.
The farm dogs of the valleys, which are more concerned with cattle than with sheep, seldom yap at them or annoy them, but carry out their work silently, and with a grave decorum
unusual in dogs of any kind. Thej, know the time of day almost to a minute. Thus a collie kept at a small farm, more as
a pet than for work, was in the habit of going away into the fields to meet the ploughman as he walked home with the horses. The dog would arrive in the field at the moment that he began to loose the team from the plough. Yet there was nothing taking place at the house to indicate what the time was. Neither had the ploughing lasted for more than a fort- night at most. As the farms are often very scattered, and company is scarce, the dogs pay visits to other dogs at a dis- tance, usually on Sundays, when the masters do the same; but the dog often goes one way and his master another. It is not etiquette for them to be absent on weekdays, and of this they seem quite aware. Recently a collie which is in the habit of swimming a river in order to visit the dogs at a farm at some distance was seen to come very quietly down the bank, and to drop into the stream like an otter. It was making for its usual landing place where the shore was flat, when it noticed that it was being watched. Though the current was strong, it arrested its drift downwards as soon as it was covered from sight by a bush on the near bank, and by con- siderable effort managed to wok up stream, and to land behind this bush, whence it slipped back to the farm.
The quiet cunning of this collie illustrates the difficulty which attends the detection of these dogs when, as some- times happens, they become criminal, and take to worrying sheep or poultry. The ponies, sheep, and cattle on the fells, and on the wide pastures just below the heather, lead such independent lives that they develop intelli- gence of a kind not to be expected from the farm animals of the South, constantly kept in small "com- partments," varying from the carefully fenced meadow to the strawyard, on the narrowly enclosed lands of the corn-growing districts. The stock-owner under the fells does not employ the mere vache to lead his cows, as does the Swiss dairy farmer, but none of the animals of whatever breed ever seem in diffi- culties, except the sheep in sickness. These when ill nearly always descend to the sides of the streams. There are certain places by the riverside which serve as ovine hospitals, or "homes of rest," known to the flocks. The little piece of sheltered ground is seldom without one or two animals come to recover or die, in the early days of spring when the flocks are in weakest health. The skeletons of the dead would accumulate there, just as do the skeletons of the guanacos, which come in the same way and in great numbers when mortally sick to the banks of certain rivers of East Patagonia, did not the suddenly rising floods sweep these remains away. Their skulls and horns will doubtless be found in future ages embedded in what was the silt of the rivers of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
On some of the lonely hill pastures below Slap Fell the feeding properties are so good that young cattle put on to them in May are fat by the end of September. Pure air, pure water, and clean pasture are the causes alleged, " clean " pasture being defined as grasses "with no "demicals,' " these being the unknown causes of " 'demica," or diseases, other than those caused by infection. The only intervention of man on these uplands is when the farmer or his sons ride a fell pony up to inspect the cattle, which is done frequently, and occasionally to take up rock-salt, or a little food to give variety or as a vehicle for some simple item in the pharmacopoeia of the cattle- raiser. These visits are incidents which the stock seem to look forward to. They often gather together of their own accord, and will follow the rider as far as the gate of the "intake," as if to see the most of him. In parts of Cumberland it is noted that the sheep follow the shepherds; but more often they and the dogs seem to have an understanding by which the latter convey to the flocks the wishes of the shepherd, instead of driving them mechanically, as do the dogs in charge of less-instructed flocks. In the course of their not long lives the sheep visit towns several times. They are sold there as lambs, and again as young ewes, and perhaps a third time as drafts, or before they go to the butcher. Also they sometimes pass through the towns on' their way to their wintering ground. Apparently they learn to expect to find a drinking fountain or trough in public squares and open places in towns. This occasionally leads to disappointment. In a North Country town a new Jubilee clock was set up in an open space in the main street. The sheep passing through crowded round this, expecting to find a fountain and water there, as there ought to have been.
Among the most amusingly independent creatures of Cum- berland and Westmorland are the half-wild geese. These are a very profitable form of stock to the farmers, for when once they are batched they get their own living until they are either sold or fattened. As• soon as they are dry after leaving the shell, the tiny goslings are given a pan of meal and water, mainly water, into which their beaks are dipped. They drink this up, and then at once begin to eat grass, though they can only toddle after the goose. They "fend for themselves" from that day onward, living entirely on grass, which they pick up in the meadows, by the streams, and by the tracks across the moors. For a day or so the old geese take the goslings to the water, but after that they do not go into the rivers, except to drink, and very occasionally to bathe, until their feathers grow. Then they wander to considerable distances, climbing the fells to the limit of grouse ground, or wandering down the rivers. They lead a most regular life, feeding, sleeping, or bathing at the same hour. By daylight they usually have a sentinel when the rest are asleep. They fly well, using their wings freely. A flock of fourteen of these geese, which last April were tiny goslings, at present frequent a length of river, with wide meadows on either side, more than half-a-mile from the farm where they were hatched, to which they do not return either by day or night. About noon on any hot day they swim or fly to a certain long shallow to wash themselves. At such times the whole fourteen are as busy at their work as laundry-maids on a washing day, every goose washing, preening, and drying itself as hard as it can. This needs considerable muscular exertion, and causes quite a commotion on the river, down which the loose feathers float like leaves. They first dive and "do steamers" on the water. Then they sink themselves, shuffle their wings and loosen their feathers, backing in the stream to let the water penetrate between them. Then come the oiling and "ironing," which are done with their bills and the backs of their beads, the latter being used as brushes or smoothing-irons. Drying and airing finish their elaborate toilet. The birds stand up on tiptoe in the shallow, and beat their wings against the wind, until all the under surface and "armpits" of the wings are dried and aired, when the "wash- ing day" may be considered to be ended. It would be difficult to find fourteen human beings of the same community who would, without speech and by ,common understanding, set to work, and continue unanimously and without cessation or idling so long and troublesome a business. The geese must therefore be credited with rather a high standard of domestic propriety.
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