JOCK OF THE BUSHVELD by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick
The following passage is taken from the book ‘Jock of the Bushveld’ by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick. The book is the true story of ‘Jock’ a Bull Terrier and his life in the African bush during the gold rush in 1886. As a puppy he was the runt of his litter and was called the ‘Rat,’ but the author admired him so much for his pluck and character that ‘Jock’ became his pick of the litter.
‘I took him in hand at once - now he was really mine - and brought him over for his saucer of soaked bread and milk to where we sat at breakfast. Beside me there was a rough camp table - a luxury sometimes indulged in while camping or trekking with empty wagons - on which we put our tinned milk, treacle, and such things to keep them out of reach of the ants, grasshoppers, Hottentot-gods, beetles and dust. I put the puppy and his saucer in a safe place under the table out of the way of stray feet, and sank the saucer in the sand so that when he trod in it he would not spill the food; for puppies are quite as stupid as they are greedy, and seem to think that they can eat faster by getting further into the dish. He appeared to be more ravenous than usual, and we were all amused by the way the little fellow craned his thin neck out further and further until he tipped up behind and his nose bumping into the saucer see-sawed him back again. He finished it all and looked round briskly at me, licking his lips and twiddling his stumpy tail.
Well, I meant to make a dog of him, so I gave him another lot. He was just like a little child - he thought he was very hungry still and could eat any amount more; but it was not possible. The lapping became slower and more laboured, with pauses every now and then to get breath or lick his lips and look about him, until at last he was fairly beaten: he could only look at it, blink and lick his chops; and, knowing that he would keep on trying, I took the saucer away. He was too full to object or to run after it; he was too full to move. He stood where he was, with his legs well spread and his little body blown out like a balloon, and finished licking the drops and crumbs off his face without moving a foot.
There was something so extraordinarily funny in the appearance and attitude of the puppy that we watched to see what he would do next. He had been standing very close to the leg of the table, but not quite touching it, when he finished feeding; and even after he had done washing his face and cleaning up generally, he stood there stock still for several minutes, as though it was all together too much trouble to move. One little bandy hind leg stuck out behind the table-leg, and the bulge of his little tummy stuck out in front of it; so that when at last he decided to make a move the very first little lurch brought his hip up against the table-leg. In an instant the puppie’s appearance changed completely: the hair on his back and shoulders bristled; his head went up erect; one ear stood up straight and the other at half cock; and his stumpy tail quivered with rage. He evidently thought that one of the other puppies had come up behind to interfere with him. He was too proud to turn round and appear to be nervous: with head erect he glared hard straight in front of him, and, with all the little breath that he had left after his big feed, he growled ferociously in comical little gasps. He stood like that, not moving an inch, with the front foot still ready to take that step forward; and then, as nothing more happened, the hair on his back gradually went flat again; the fierceness died out of his face; and the growling stopped.
After a minute’s pause, he again very slowly and carefully began to step forward; of course exactly the same thing happened again, except that this time he shook all over with rage, and the growling was fiercer and more choky. One could not imagine anything so small being in so great a rage. He took longer to cool down, too, and much longer before he made the third attempt to start. But the third time it was all over in a second. He seemed to think that this was more than any dog could stand, and that he must put a stop to it. The instant his hip touched the leg, he whipped round with a ferocious snarl - his little white teeth bared and gleaming - and bumped his nose against the table leg.
I cannot say whether it was because of the shout of laughter from us, or because he really understood what had happened, that he looked so foolish, but he just gave one crestfallen look at me and with a feeble wag of his tail waddled off as fast as he could.
Then Ted nodded over at me, and said: “I believe you have got the champion after all!”
And I was too proud to speak.’
Published by Longmans, London in 1907. Illustrated by E. Caldwell
Then Ted nodded over at me, and said: “I believe you have got the champion after all!”
And I was too proud to speak.’
Published by Longmans, London in 1907. Illustrated by E. Caldwell