FORUM DU KARABASH

Bonne année 2011 à tous.
Voici un texte ancien qui fait l'éloge des chiens de berger turcs (Akbash a priori). Il est malheureusement en anglais, désolé pour ceux qui ne maîtrisent pas la langue de Shakespeare. J'espère néanmoins qu'il intéressera certains d'entre vous.

Philippe

The author graphically describes a terrible night's battle with a huge pack of wolves — a battle so fierce that at its close over thirty of these ferocious creatures lay dead upon the snow. But the dogs and men did not emerge scatheless.

The winter of 1890-91 in the higher regions of Asia Minor was one of the severest ever experienced within the memory of the proverbial oldest inhabitant. I certainly never experienced such cold and biting frosts. The thermometer registered twenty degrees of frost. Animals and birds had great difficulty in finding food, and even the timid partridges made common cause with the fowls. Hunger had driven them to the hospitable manure-heap outside the garden wall. It was a strange and curious sight to see these usually wild partridges venturing so near the house, and especially feeding with the fowls.
The house where I was living was situated some 3,000ft. above sea level, and in a most lonely place on the hills. Our nearest neighbour lived a few miles away. A white mantle of virgin snow covered the up-lands to the depth of several feet. The glare of the white mass was only broken here and there by jutting rocks or towering peaks, which seenied to loom out of the white sea double their actual size.
The tall, graceful pines on the hills beyond carried so great a weight of snow on their yielding branches, that they drooped heavily earthwards. The sharp frosts which followed the fall of snow had rendered its surface hard and crisp, and unyielding to the foot of man or beast.
The severe cold had caused the wolves to descend from the higher regions in search of food. Hunger had made them fierce and audacious. Every night would be heard their short, shrill yelps and angry growls, but, so far, they had not ventured near the house, as our big sheepdogs replied in loud, gruff barks to their weird yells. Hunger, however, made them utterly reckless, and one night they ventured as far as the orchard at the back of the house. I was awakened by an unearthly series of growls and piercing yells ringing out in the still night air. The dogs had got at them, and as it was a fine moonlight night, I could see the battle raging fiercely when I reached the window. I made out that there were about ten or twelve wolves against our three dogs. I was not afraid of the dogs being hurt much, as they had iron-spiked collars on to protect their throats, so that the wolves could not get at that vital part without a sharp spike or two piercing their jaws.
The battle continued furiously for some time, but the dogs presently seemed to be getting the worst of it. I was afraid to fire, however, as dogs and wolves were mixed up pell-mell. Besides, my cartridges were loaded with slugs (eight to a charge), and slugs are rather erratic at fifty paces. I did not wish to let daylight into one of the dogs.
I noticed that one dog had a wolf by the throat, while four other wolves were attacking him from behind. The dog, however, would not leave the wolf he was worrying until he had finished with him. After giving him a good shake or two he dropped him, and then, seizing a second wolf by the back, he gave him one shake and threw him a couple of yards away, whilst a third wolf shared the .same fate. The other dogs were doing like execution. But soon a change came over the scene. The exasperated wolves smelling blood turned on each other, thus giving the dogs a better chance to tackle the brutes more advantageously. They grabbed first one wolf and then another with their powerful jaws, and very soon quite half the pack lay writhing in the snow. Finally first one and then another of the intruders, having had enough of the dogs, slunk away, but not without a parting shot from me which crippled two of them.
Four others, which the dogs had placed hors de combat remained struggling in the snow. These the dogs went for again, and no doubt would have finished had not I gone out and put a charge of slug into their vile carcasses. The snow was fairly covered with blood, whilst the coats of the dogs were transformed from white to red. Next morning I examined the dogs for wounds, but found only a few scratches on their legs. Their thick winter coats had effectively prevented the teeth of the wolves from reaching their flesh. I then examined the dead wolves, and found two with their throats ripped open; another with his back broken, and a fourth with a fractured leg. The dogs had done their work well, considering they were so outnumbered, but at the same time it must be remembered that the dogs were double the size and weight of the wolves. I was not surprised to see the wolf’s back broken. A bite from such powerful jaws as those of the sheep-dogs was sufficient.
I was curious to know what had become of the two I had crippled the night before, so taking the dogs with me, I soon came upon them about a mile away trying to get up the hill. These the dogs soon finished, and I found that each had had a leg broken by the slugs. At forty to fifty paces I find a slug charge is safer than a bullet, for even if it does not kill, it stops the wolf from getting away. The next day our neighbours, the Turkish villagers, heard of the scrimmage, and many came to see the dead brutes. They were right glad to see the execution wrought, as many of their sheep had been worried by the wolves.
For several nights we were not troubled by these dangerous brutes. Those which had escaped evidently did not wish to renew the acquaintance of the dogs. One night, however, I heard the usual yelp, and the dogs bolted off in the direction of the sound, barking wildly as they ran. On looking out I saw a black mass on the crest of a hill, about 150 yds. away, so I tried what effect a ball from the Martini would have, and, firing into the mass, I heard a piercing yell, and saw a helter-skelter scrimmage. Evidently one of the brutes had been hit, so I fired again. Another yell was the result, and then the whole pack bolted over the hill, leaving the two I had brought down behind them. These, of course, the dogs went for, and before I got to the scene they were both dead.
I thought it was now high time that something should be done to get rid of these savage brutes altogether. Owing to the continued intense cold they might even get dangerous in the day-time, especially as they were becoming more numerous. I had come across several small packs the day before, but they were not bold enough to attack me there in open daylight. Therefore, after some consideration, I approached some of my Turkish villagers, who had often accompanied me on shooting expeditions. I knew them to be cool, cautious, and true sportsmen, and very good shots besides. I suggested to them to come out with me one evening while the moon lasted, and have a slap at the wolves if we could come across them.
The result was that a dozen of the villagers turned up in the evening, and a queer-looking crew they were — in fact, a more disreputable-looking lot of cut-throats I never came across. Their feet were encased in moccasins, and their legs wrapped in canvas sacking; while round their heads, necks, and ears a long woollen scarf was wound turban-wise, leaving only eyes and nose visible. A military-looking cloak was tied tightly round their bodies. Six pairs of woollen gloves between the twelve completed their costume. They were armed with double-barrelled, muzzle-loading guns, while knives-— murderous-looking weapons — were stuck in their sheaths. One, however, carried an enormous weapon, a single-barrelled duck gun (No. 4 bore), with a barrel a yard and a half long.
I thought this would play havoc among the wolves, especially with the peculiar charge its owner preferred to use instead of the slugs I offered him. He had cut up some lead piping, which he said would have far more effect than slugs. I found out afterwards the force of his argument.
"Well, Ahmet!" I said, addressing one who appeared as their leader; "what will be our 'Kismet' to-night?"
"Inshallah," he answered, "The wolves have been seen to-day, and I have sent two men out with the bait. We can pretty well locate them to-night."
Half an hour's walk over the hard, crisp snow brought us to the rendezvous appointed. In the afternoon the men had taken the entrails of a sheep that had been worried the day before and dragged them round in circles, finally tying them to the branch of a tree several feet from the ground. They had also made a fire and placed pieces of the liver in the smouldering ashes. As soon as these began to frizzle the wind carried the smell towards the hills. We knew that if the keen-scented brutes got the scent of the liver, they would follow up its trail without delay.
We counted up ten double-barrelled muzzle and two breech-loading guns, to say nothing of the murderous No. 4 bore, and our eight splendid sheep-dogs — or, rather, I should say a cross between a sheep-dog and a wolf-hound. Under cover of a wall, we were enabled to reach a spot within twenty-five paces of the tree where the bait was, without having been seen. Here we found three polecats quarrelling and spitting at each other in their eagerness to get at the entrails. The temptation to have a shot at them was strong, but we were afraid the report of the guns would frighten the wolves if they were anywhere about. So we decided to leave the little beasts alone and wait.
We crouched expectantly under the wall, which sheltered us a little from the biting, keen, and frosty wind. Some of us sadly wanted a smoke, but it was arranged beforehand that smoking should not be allowed. We wasted nearly half an hour — our limbs getting stiff and numbed with cold the while. We were just thinking of going round the hills to have a look for our quarry, when there came across the still night air a shrill, eerie, snappish yelp. "Shish! shish!" I whispered to my neighbours, who passed the warning along. In a few seconds more, several yelps reached us, and as they came nearer and nearer the yelping became general, accompanied by growls and savage barks. The dogs were in leash, and their masters had them well under control. I had my own two faithful dogs by my side. They were eager to get at the wolves, but a gentle tap on their heads with my hand restrained them. At last the ferocious brutes came in sight. "Good heavens!" I whispered involuntarily to myself, and nudged my companion Ahmet. "Inshallah! what a lot!" he murmured, softly. The bright, clear moonlight enabled us to distinguish no fewer than between thirty and forty savage, gaunt, and hungry brutes, and as they bounded towards us we could see their bloody-looking eyes flashing in the moonlight. They had evidently got full scent of the entrails, and had come down with a rush, snapping at each other, to the tempting bait. The polecats had wisely cleared out when they heard the yelping.
As soon as the wolves reached the tree they began jumping up at the entrails, tearing down mouthfuls and fighting each other for them. It was an extraordinary spectacle, for the whole place seemed to be fairly alive with snapping, yelping brutes.
Presently I thought the time had come for a volley, so I nudged Ahmet, and he sent the signal along. We took aim as though we were a regiment of soldiers in battle, and twelve barrels belched forth twelve heavy charges of slug. Above all the reports I could distinctly distinguish the loud bang ot No. 4 sending its charge of cut lead piping into the wolves. As soon as the smoke cleared off we repeated the dose. No sooner had we given them the second volley than I shouted, "Let go the dogs"; but Hassan, with his No. 4, shouted, "Wait until I have reloaded. I want another shot." Loading was rather a simple process. Taking a handful of powder out of one pocket and ramming it down, and a handful of lead piping out of another, and ramming that down also, with an iron ramrod, my picturesque Hassan was ready for another shot. As he was the only one to fire I was curious to see the effect. A group of ten or a dozen wolves were skulking away and fighting among themselves. Into these Hassan sent his jagged messengers of death. "Inshaliah," he said, grimly, "that got them." And sure enough it had. The effect was terrible, fully half of the maddened creatures going down like ninepins. The leashes were then slipped, and the dogs dashed into the thick of the wolves with a tremendous rush, while my little "army" spread out in skirmishing order to pick off any that attempted to escape. Then commenced a terrible battle. At least half of the pack had by this time been mortally wounded and some killed outright, but none the less the battle was bloody and fierce for some time, the dogs going for all that came in their way, laying low first one snarling wolf and then another; while bang, bang, bang came from all sides. I enjoyed it enormously. The skulkers were dropping here and there. Every now and then, like a minute gun, the heavy boom of No. 4 rang out above the infernal din.
Presently I heard a cry for help from the other side of the wall. I ran in the direction of the call, and saw poor Hassan with his two-yard gun trying to keep two huge brutes from springing at his throat. "Drop your gun and knife them," I shouted, but he had evidently lost his presence of mind for the moment, and before I could get to him one wolf had grabbed him by the muscles of his right arm. Drawing my hunting-dagger as I ran up to Hassan, I plunged it up to the hilt between the brute's shoulders. This made it relax its hold, but whilst giving it the coup de grâce, the other wolf sprang on my back and pinned me by the shoulder. Ugh, I could feel the brute's stinking hot breath on my cheek and his sharp teeth penetrating my flesh. It was now Hassan's turn to render me assistance. I could not reach to stab it behind me, and a sickening feeling was coming over me, when Hassan's curved yataghan flashed in the moonlight and came down on the wolf's back with a terrible swiftness and force that almost severed the wolfs hind-quarters from its body.
It was a relief both to myself and Hassan to have dispatched the two wolves, as we were afraid others might come and assist them. Two were quite enough at close quarters. It appeared that Hassan's gun was loaded, but he had dropped the cap in the snow, and before he could put another on the wolves were upon him. Poor old Hassan. His arm was hanging listlessly by his side and the blood was trickling down, crimsoning the white snow. His cloak had fallen off during the struggle, and the wolf’s teeth had only his coat sleeve and shirt to penetrate, so they went pretty deeply.
It was the work of a moment to take his coat off. I put a handful of snow on the lacerated wounds and tied his arm up with my handker-chief I felt a clammy feeling on my shoulder, but there was no time to look to it, as cries for help now came from the other side of the wall.
"Come along, Hassan," I said, "but cap your gun first!" This he did, and jumping over the wall we found some of our companions fighting the wolves single-handed, while others were assisting each other. It was all knife work now. The glittering blades were slashing right and left. Two of our companions were side by side cutting and hacking at three or four wolves which were trying to get at them. Just behind the two men some of the dogs had surrounded two wolves which were trying to get away, having had more than enough.
The dogs, in making a rush for them, tumbled against one of the men's legs from behind. Down he came backwards among wolves, dogs, and men. As he fell he uttered a blood-curdling yell, and then he seemed to get mixed up. We had some difficulty in singling out the wolves for fear of striking the dogs or the Turk. But Hassan dexterously managed to dispatch one of the brutes and the dogs pinned the other, whereupon our friend extricated himself more frightened than hurt. His face, however, had been badly scratched by the claws of both dogs and wolves.
By this time we had nearly finished our work. The dogs, however, were still worrying the wounded wolves, that lay scattered on that extraordinary field of battle. It was only a few minutes' work to finish the few struggling creatures, and then we felt we had had quite enough of the ghastly business. The excitement and the sight and smell of blood, as well as the pain in my shoulder, had made me quite sick, and it was some time before the nauseous feeling left me.
We counted up our formidable bag, which totalled no fewer than thirty-two dead wolves stretched on the field of battle, some of them fine animals with their furs in good condition; and as these latter were worth a few shillings each, it was not a bad night's work even financially speaking, to say nothing of the fact that we had rid the neighbourhood of these sheep-worrying brutes. We supposed that about a dozen or fifteen had escaped, but some of these would no doubt be found next day on the neighbouring hills.
We left the dead wolves on the field until next morning, when it was our intention to return and skin them. Calling the dogs we returned home, and made liberal use of carbolic acid in dressing our wounds, which were not so serious as we thought. Our clothes, however, had suffered considerably in the fight. Scarcely one of the dogs had come off sco free. Most of them had torn snouts and lacerated lips, while one poor brute had a bad knife slash in the hind-quarters, done accidentally in the desperate mélée. I poured some carbolic acid over the wound, hut it only sent the dog yelling to the village.
It was a long time before I could get to sleep that night. The excitement of the fight, and the remembrance of the wolf on my shoulder, had quite unhinged my nerves. When I did drop off, my sleep was disturbed by horrid dreams. My wife woke me up telling mc I was using abominable language, and calling out in Turkish to Hassan "to knife the brute!"
Next morning almost the whole male population of the village turned out to assist in the skinning operations. Some of us scoured the hills in the vicinity of the fight in the hope of finding some of the wolves that had escaped. We found only one dead, and two wounded, which we dispatched. The skinning process revealed the havoc Hassan's lead-piping had done. The flesh on the carcasses of some of the wolves was torn and ripped in all directions, while the skins were practically worthless from the same cause.
Newton, Tom C. – "A tussle with wolves", in The wide world magazine (1899)

Cão da Serra da Estrela

Les quatre chiens portugais apparentés aux petits épagneuls asiatiques me rappellent que la Turquie a été la première terre d'accueil "occidentale" pour les ancêtres des Pékinois et autres Tibétains.

Comme l'a dit Laure, il s'agit d'un Podengo Português, variété à poil court et de taille moyenne.