I must here express my thanks to Mr. (now Captain) Pallett, then mate of the steamship “ Scotia,” who took the greatest care of the dog when on hoard ship.

act the part of the ever restless, flock-marshalling collie dog, but simply mounts guard on an eminence near his flock, and acts the part of a sentry to them and his master. He may be encountered on the mountains at a considerable distance from his flock, simply wandering on a lonely patrol. He will not attack an intruder unless he approaches too near to the hut or flocks of his charge. He will follow the solitary sportsman or pedestrian for miles, keeping a short distance in the rear, as if determined to see him well off his territories. The shepherds depend much on their guard- dogs, for not only the safety of their flocks, but also for their own personal protection by day and night, and will, I am assured, think nothing of firing on a stranger if he

attempts to injure their dogs.

They are very jealous of parting with the breed, and dogs of this kind are therefore seldom seen in England. My dog was presented to Lady Hornby by J. Stephens, Esq., H.B.M. Consul at Trebizond, who values his pure breed exceedingly. I can only hear of two other specimens having been brought to England, and these during the Crimean War, viz., the one by Lady George Paget, the other by Lord Stratford de Kedclifle.

Since I have had Arslan in my possession I have found him of a very amiable disposition to those he knows and who are kind to him, for he is very susceptible of any little attention shown him. With

dogs, however, he wages the fiercest war; his sole aim and object in life seems to be to attack and kill any unfortunate fellow-canine that comes near him, and this without the least provocation. Arslan has picked up several curs in the streets and handled them most severely; one of these I had an opportunity of examining, for his remains were brought to me the day after the combat. The wounds Arslan had made were terrific. All this happened when I first received my formidable friend. He is now never allowed to go out without a muzzle, and I never dare trust him without his chain and collar (which latter I have ornamented with bells such as are worn by the post-horses in France), or he is sure to pick up a dog.

Strange to say, Arslan never touches my little Scotch terrier dog, u Danny.” We had a great difficulty at first to prevent him killing her. After a time, however, I suppose instinct taught him that the little dog was one of the family as well as himself, and Arslan and Danny are the greatest friends possible. He barks when Danny barks, and Danny joins in chorus when her gigantic friend sings a song. The cat and Arslan have had terrible fights, but the cat, holding her own social position, and not interfering with the big dog’s privileges, Mr. Arslan has given in at last, and the cat is now quite

his master.

His temper is truly affectionate, and he cannot bear to

be left alone a minute. When shut up he positively sobs to be let out; if he can only be in the company of human beings he is quite comfortable, and does nothing but sit and watch for hours at a time in the balcony in Albany Street. When he is not watching he sleeps with his huge carcase stretched, just like a great lazy Turk, out on the floor, but never near the fire. When I show him his muzzle and collar he jumps about, and Knows it is his out-door dress, and runs to have it put on. His muzzle makes him look very savage, and condemns him in the eyes of strangers, but he will never hurt man, woman, or child. The poor dog has evidently been brought up to kill dogs, and it is his business. As a proof of this, when he picks up a dog, he looks up with mild beautiful eyes, expecting me to pat him and praise him—-not punish him—for what he has done. One day I sent my regimental servant, G. Badcock, to the Paddington station with Arslan, and in an unguarded moment, Arslan being unfortunately without his muzzle, he picked up a wandering cur that came suddenly round the corner. Badcock did all he could to get him off the dog, when some fellow—he could have been no Englishman—came behind the dog and stabbed him with a knife in several places; he then, like a brute, tried to cut his tail off. Arslan was brought home to me bleeding fearfully. I examined his tail, and found an artery cut right across, bleeding

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furiously. I tried to catch it with my surgical tenacula, but could not on account of the hair. I eventually, after being nearly deluged with blood myself, managed to stop the haemorrhage with muriated tincture of iron, matico leaf, and firm pressure. If I had not been a medical man Arslan would certainly have bled to death; as it was, he was very faint, and I was obliged to give him ammonia, &c. I have since this doctored his tail, and it is, luckily, none the worse for the wound, as it was not cut at a joint. I never could get the name of the fellow who used the knife.

I find that Arslan invariably feels the heat very much; for he always chooses the coldest place he can

find to sleep on, and, if straw is given him, scrapes it away to lie on the bare ground.

The strength and power of my giant dog are terrific he is just like a great wolf to hold. I am not very weak myself, and I find that when he puts out his strength it is all I can do to prevent myself being pulled bodily over. I send my page-boy, John, out with him daily for a walk. The dog at first used to run right away with John, like a runaway horse in a gig, but he has learned better manners lately, and now he never attempts

to bolt. At dinner-time every day Arslan takes up his position in the sitting position of the “ Cave canem ” dog, by the head of the table, waiting for bones and scraps.

The moment he sees the cheese put on the table he sneaks down stairs, as quietly as possible, into the kitchen, to watch for more scraps. Experience has taught him that after the appearance of the cheese no more meat comes to table, and his Turkish tastes do not reconcile him to cheese.

Since Arslan’s arrival I have received the following

note from a gentleman holding a high position in the army, and who is well known as a traveller and an observant sportsman, who gives his experience of Arslan’s relatives in their native homes as follows

“ Dear Buckland, “ Having paid a visit to your dog L Arslan, 9 and having read with great interest your account in ‘ The Field,’ I have thought that you might possibly like to hear more particulars respecting this curious breed of dogs, whose acquaintance I first made on the Albanian hills, whilst cock-shooting in the winter of 1859-60. “ Though every flock that one meets with has one or more of these redoubtable guardians attached to it, I have never seen them used as sheep dogs, according to

our acceptation of the term. Indeed, the sheep ‘ follow

the shepherd,’ in the Eastern fashion, without any driving at all; and the sheep dogs are simply used to guard the flocks against depredators—biped as well as this they do most effectually.quadruped—and

“ So nrucli importance do the Albanian shepherds attach to the fierceness of their 1 skillies ’(?) that, however savagely the innocent wanderer in search of wood-cocks may be attacked, the owner of the dog will never call him off for fear of spoiling him. Any sportsman who has visited Albania must know them well, and has doubtless, like myself, often wished them on f t’other

side o’ Jordan.’ u An Englishman starting for the Albanian coast is always warned that under no circumstances must he ever shoot one of these dogs, (which, by the way, he is often sorely tempted to do before he has been long among them). 6 Shoot my dog and I’ll shoot you,’ seems to be the Albanian version of the old English proverb, ‘ Love me love my dog.’ However, if seriously attacked by them, there is a saving clause in this 1 rude law of the mountains.’ If a dog comes near enough, you are allowed to stab him; his pressing you so closely being considered to warrant an appeal to cold steel in self-defence, the verdict in such a case being 1 justifiable canicide.’ Eor this reason, whilst shooting, it is the custom to carry a knife, resembling in shape that used by a chef de cuisine, and which fixes by a spring into the inside of one of the barrels of your gun. “ I generally found a bold front, and the fixing of this formidable weapon a sufficient passport for myself and dogs in the neighbourhood of an Albanian village

BROUGHT TO BAY BY AN ALBANIAN DOG. S31

or flock, but on one occasion I was forced to use it to

secure myself a safe retreat. “ It was on the very last day of my sejour in Albania, where I had spent some weeks in a native village in the interior with four friends. On the way down to our yacht I got separated from the rest of the party, and found myself on the top of a high cliff overlooking the sea. I stood admiring the scenery, with my face turned towards the cool sea-breeze, when I was suddenly attacked from the rear by one of these formidable

antagonists, his owner, 1 a wild Albanian, kirtled to the knee,’ looking calmly on from a neighbouring eminence. I tried picking up a stone to throw at him, but my stooping only allowed my antagonist to steal a yard nearer to me. I began to feel very uncomfortable. Fancy yourself on the edge of a precipice, with an 1 Arslan ’ keeping guard over you by describing short semicircles round you, showing his teeth the while, and growling in a very ominous manner, and I think you will allow that the situation was as critical as that of a great Yankee general after a? glorious victory.’ After standing thus 1 at bay ’ for what appeared to me to be a considerable time, I at last determined to risk an advance, and proceeded to 1 fix bayonets.’ No sooner did he see the flash of the steel than my antagonist sprang straight at me. I instinctively lowered my point, which entered his chest, passing out behind the shoulder. He

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fell at my feet, unfixing my bayonet in bis struggles. After lying still a short time, be rose and beat a retreat, tbe bayonet still transfixing bim. “ I tracked bim for some distance by bis blood, over tbe broken ground, and at tbe end of 100 yards or so I found my bayonet (wbicb, I suppose, be must have drawn out with bis teetb) lying in a pool of blood. I was only too thankful to recover my weapon and my liberty to think of continuing tbe pursuit; and I returned to tbe yacht impressed with a very great respect for tbe Albanian king of dogs, who is undoubtedly first cousin to tbe Turkish one. “ As far as my experience goes, they will face anything—-man, wild boar, wolves, or anything they imagine to be interfering with their master’s rights and, though ‘ bullies ’ to tbe smaller of their own species, they are by no means cowards when thoroughly

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