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Page 32
"Not as we do, for pets and friends; and yet the dog population of
Constantinople is more numerous and powerful, and infinitely more noisy,
than I can easily describe to you."
"Whom do they belong to then?"
"They have no special masters or mistresses. They are more like troops
of wolves than a collection of Pontos."
"But who gives them their dinners?"
"They live on offal and the offscourings of the city, and though the
Turks freely throw all their refuse into their streets, there are so
many dogs that they are all half-starved. They are very fierce, and have
as a rule a great dislike to strangers. At night they roam about the
streets, and are said to fall upon any one who does not carry a
lantern."
"But does anybody carry a lantern--except the watchmen?"
"Everybody does. Coloured paper lanterns, like the Chinese ones, with a
bit of candle inside. With one of these in one hand and a heavy stone or
stick in the other, you may get safely through a night-walk among the
howling dogs of Stamboul."
"What horrible beasts!"
"I think you would pity them if you were there. They are half starved,
and have no friends."
"There isn't a home for lost and starving dogs in Constantinople then?"
"The whole city may be considered as the headquarters of starving dogs,
but not of lost ones. That reminds me why I said Ponto had not lived
there. If he had he would know his own grounds, and keep to them."
"But, Cousin Peregrine, I thought you said the Turkish dogs had no
particular homes?"
"Every dog in Constantinople belongs to a particular Quarter of the
town, which he knows, and to which he confines himself with marvellous
sagacity. In the Quarter in which he was born, there he must live, and
there (if he wishes to die peaceably) he must die. If he strays on any
pretext into another Quarter, the dogs of the Quarter he has invaded
will tear him to pieces, and dine upon his bones."
"How does he know where his own part of the town begins and ends?"
"I cannot tell you, Maggie. But I can tell you of my own knowledge that
he does. Jack did, though we tried to deceive him over and over again."
"Who was Jack?"
"The handsomest dog I ever saw in Constantinople. The Turkish dogs are
by no means beautiful as a rule, they are too much like jackals, and as
they are apt to be maimed and covered with scars from fights with each
other, they do not make much of what good looks they have. However, Jack
was rather less wild and wolfish-looking than most of his friends. He
was of a fine tawny yellow, and had an intelligent face, poor fellow. He
belonged to our Quarter--in fact the cemetery was his home till he took
to lying at our door."
"Then he was a Pera dog?"
[Illustration]
"Yes, and I and the brother-officers who were living with me made friends
with him. We gave him food and spoke kindly to him, and he laid aside his
prejudices against foreigners, and laid his tawny limbs on our threshold.
We became really attached to each other. He received the very British
name of Jack, and seemed quite contented with it. He took walks with us.
It was then that again and again we tried to deceive him about the limits
of his Quarter, and get him into another one unawares. He never was
misled. But later on, as he grew tame, less fearful of things in general,
and more unwilling to quit us when we were out together, he sometimes
strayed beyond his bounds, not because he was deceived as to his limits,
but he ventured on the risk for our sakes. Even then, however, he would
not walk in the public thoroughfares, he 'dodged' through gardens, empty
courtyards and quiet by-places where he was not likely to meet the
outraged dogs of the Quarter he was invading. The moment we were safe back
'in bounds' he came freely and happily to our side once more. I have often
wondered, since I left Constantinople, how long Jack lived, and how he
died."
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