131. As I before observed, you can pract_Dog Breaking The Most Expeditious, Certain, and Easy Method, Whether Great Excellence or Only Mediocrity Be Required, With Odds and Ends for Those Who Love the Dog and Gun

lessons in your country walks. Always put something alluring in your

pocket to reward your pupil for prompt obedience. Do not take him out

unnecessarily in bad weather. On no account let him amuse himself by

scraping acquaintance with every idle cur he meets on the way; nor

permit him to gambol about the lanes. Let him understand by your

manner that there is business in hand. Never let him enter a field

before you. _Always keep him at your heels, until you give him the

order to be off._ You will find him disposed to presume and encroach.

According to the old adage, "Give him an inch, and he will take an

ell." He will be endeavouring to lead rather than to follow, and,

should he fancy himself unobserved, he will most perseveringly steal

inch upon inch in advance. Be ever on the watch, ready to check the

_beginning_ of every act of disobedience. Implicit obedience in trifles

will insure it in things of more importance--but see par. 345.

[Illustration: INCLINED TO 'RAT.']

[Page Header: INSTRUCTION IN QUARTERING.]

132. For some time, but the period is uncertain,--say from his being

eight months old until double that age,[21]--he will merely gallop

and frisk about, and probably will take diligently to persecuting

butterflies. Let him choose what he likes. Don't think that he will

prize small beer, when he can get champagne. He will leave off noticing

inferior articles as he becomes conversant with the taste of game. It

is now your main object to get him to hunt; no matter what, so that he

is not perpetually running to "heel." And the more timid he is, the

more you must let him chase, and amuse himself as his fancy dictates.

When you see that he is really occupying himself with more serious

hunting, _eagerly_ searching for small birds, especially larks, you

must begin instructing him how to quarter his ground to the greatest

advantage, _under your constant direction_. Should any one join you,

or anything occur likely to prevent your giving him your strictest

attention, on no account permit him to range,--keep him to "heel"

until you are quite prepared to watch and control all his movements.

Hunt him where he is least likely to find game, for he will take to

quartering his ground far more regularly, under your guidance, where

his attention is least distracted by any scent. The taint of partridge

would be almost sure to make him deviate from the true line on which

you are anxious he should work. Labour now diligently, if possible

daily, though not for many hours a day; for be assured, a good method

of ranging can only be implanted when he is young: but be discreet, if

he be naturally timid, you may make him afraid to leave your heel--the

worst of faults.

133. Should your pup be so long before taking to hunting that your

patience becomes exhausted, let an old dog accompany you a few times.

When _he_ finds birds, gradually bring the young one upon them from

leeward, and let him spring them. Encourage him to sniff the ground

they have quitted, and allow him to run riot on the haunt. After that

enjoyment, the example of the old dog will most likely soon make him

range, and employ his nose in seeking a repetition of what has afforded

him such unexpected delight. If it does not, and the old dog is steady

and good-humoured enough to bear the annoyance cheerfully, couple the

young one to him. Before this he should have learned to work kindly

in couples (48). But I am getting on too fast, and swerving from the

track I had marked for myself. By-and-by I will tell you how I think

you should instruct your youngster to quarter his ground to the best

advantage. (173, &c.)

[Page Header: GAIN AFFECTION.]

134. Common sense shows that you ought not to correct your dog for

disobedience, unless you are certain that he knows his fault. Now

you will see that the initiatory lessons I recommend, must give him

that knowledge, for they explain to him the meaning of almost all the

signs and words of command you will have to employ when shooting. That

knowledge, too, is imparted by a system of rewards, not punishments.

Your object is not to break his spirit, but his self-will. With his

obedience you gain his affection. The greatest hardship admissible, in

this early stage of his education, is a strong jerk of the checkcord,

and a sound rating, given, _when necessary_, in the loudest tone and

sternest manner; and it is singular how soon he will discriminate

between the reproving term "bad" (to which he will sensitively attach a

feeling of shame), and the encouraging word "good,"--expressions that

will hereafter have a powerful influence over him, especially if he be

of a gentle, timid disposition.

135. In educating such a dog,--and there are many of the kind, likely

to turn out well, if they are judiciously managed, often possessing

noses so exquisite (perhaps I ought to say cautious), as nearly to make

up for their general want of constitution and powers of endurance:--it

is satisfactory to think that all these lessons can be inculcated

without in the slightest degree depressing his spirit. On the contrary,

increasing observation and intelligence will gradually banish his

shyness and distrust of his own powers; for he will be sensible that

he is becoming more and more capable of comprehending your wishes, and

therefore less likely to err and be punished (347).

[Page Header: FURTHER KNOWLEDGE READILY GAINED.]

136. I fear you may imagine that I am attributing too much reasoning

power to him. You would not think so if you had broken in two or

three dogs. What makes dog-teaching, if not very attractive, at least

not laborious, is the fact that the more you impart to a dog, the

more readily will he gain further knowledge. After teaching a poodle

or a terrier a few tricks, you will be surprised to see with what

increasing facility he will acquire each successive accomplishment. It

is this circumstance which, I think, should induce you not to regard

as chimerical the perfection of which I purpose to speak by-and-by,

under the head of "refinements in breaking." Indeed I only adopt

this distinction in deference to what I cannot but consider popular

prejudice; for I well know many will regard such accomplishments as

altogether superfluous. It is sad to think that an art which might

easily be made much more perfect, is allowed, almost by universal

sufferance, to stop short just at the point where excellence is within

grasp.

[Page Header: ESQUIMAUX DOGS.]

137. Far more dogs would be _well broken_, if men would but keep half

the number they usually possess. _The owner of many dogs cannot shoot

often enough over them to give them great experience._

Is it that some youngsters are fond of the _éclat_ of a large kennel?

That can hardly be, or ought not to be; for clearly it would be more

sportsmanlike to pride themselves upon the rare qualities of a few

highly-trained animals. A lover of the trigger might be excused an

occasional boast, if made with an approach to truth, that he shot

over the best broken dogs in the county. I say seriously, that if I

had a considerable bet upon the quantity of game that I was to kill

in a season, I had much rather possess two perfectly educated dogs

than half-a-dozen commonly called broken;--and even if I gave fifty

or sixty guineas for the brace, it would be more economical than to

purchase twice as many of the everyday sort; for, to say nothing of

the tax-gatherer, consider what would be the saving at the end of a

very few years between the keep of _two_, and of four or five dogs. I

suspect the difference would soon repay the large price paid for the

highly-educated favourites. Oh! yes. I anticipate what you would say;

but, keen sportsman as I am, I own I have not time or inclination to

shoot oftener than three or four out of the six working-days of the

week,--and I suspect not many men have, except just at the beginning

of a season. Moreover, in reference to what I fancy are your thoughts

respecting the insufficiency of two, I must premise that they are to

be good-hearted dogs,--good feeders after work,--probably of the sort

whose exuberant animal spirits, untiring energies, and rapture at

inhaling the exciting perfume of game, have led them to run riot in

many a lawless chase; who have consequently used up more than their

fair share of the breaker's checkcord, and consumed an undue portion of

his time. They must not be those whose constitutions have been injured

in their growth by excessive work; for dogs vary as much as horses in

the quantity of labour they are able to perform, both from diversity

of natural capabilities, and from the greater or less care bestowed

upon them while progressing towards maturity. The Esquimaux, who from

anxious observation must be a competent judge,--his very existence

depending upon the powers and endurance of his dogs,--not only

occasionally crosses them with the wolf (the progeny is prolific) to

increase their strength and hardiness,--I do not say sagacity,--but he

is so impressed with the necessity of not overtasking them until they

have attained their full stamina and vigour, that although he breaks

them into harness before they are quite a twelvemonth old, when their

immediate services would be convenient, he yet abstains from putting

them to severe labour until they are nearly three years of age. My

supposed dogs must, too, have as united a gallop as a good hunter, and

have small, round, hard feet; for this I hold to be a more certain test

of endurance in the field, than any other point that you can name.

Rest assured, that the worst loined dogs with good feet[22] are capable

of more fatigue in stubble or heather, than the most muscular and best

loined, with fleshy "understandings." The most enduring pointers I have

ever seen hunted, had more or less of the strain of the fox-hound; but

doubtless they were proportionately hard to break, for their hereditary

bias on one side of the house must have given them an inclination to

chase and carry their heads low. I have shot over a cross with the

bull-dog. The animal showed great courage, perseverance, and nose, but

he hunted with his head so near the ground, that he hit off no game

unless he came upon its run. The strongest heather could not have cured

such a sad carriage. It would be quite unreasonable to expect that dogs

so bred (from either fox-hound or bull-dog), would have acted like Mr.

M----t's, (see 280) the first day they were shown game. Remember also

that I do not expect to lose any shots from the birds being scared by

my being forced to call or whistle to the dogs, and that I confidently

hope to shoot more coolly and collectedly, from not being worried

and annoyed by their misconduct; I allow, however, that in any open

country more than two dogs are desirable; and I especially admit, that

whenever I might have the good luck to get away to the moors, I should

be unwilling to start with no more than a brace; but even in this case,

as I should hope for better society than my own, have I not a right

to calculate upon the probable contingent to be brought by my friend?

and if his turned out superior to mine, we should always reserve his

for our evening's beat, which ought to be the best feeding ground, and

towards which it would be our endeavour throughout the day to drive

the birds; for, unlike the partridge, the later it is, _early in the

season_, the better grouse lie. Many dogs are desirable, not that they

may be hunted together, but that they may be hunted in reliefs. But

some possess so much power and bottom, that their owners need seldom

think about reliefs in partridge-shooting.

[Illustration:

BROACHING A BARREL.

"The extremities of the gun caught the side-posts."--Par. 139.]

[Page Header: GOOD DOGS ULTIMATELY CHEAPEST.]

138. In enlarging a kennel, it ought always to be remembered, that the

companionship of one disorderly cur nominally cheap, but in reality

dear, soon leads astray the better disposed. Men who spare no expense

in preserving their grounds, in rearing and feeding birds, &c. will

often be found to begrudge a few extra pounds in the purchase of a dog,

however good. This appears odd, but it is too true. If they would but

sum up the rent they pay for the right of shooting, (or what is the

same thing, its value, if they choose to let it), the wages of men, the

cost of breeding game, taxes, and all other attendant expenses, they

would find that they wreck themselves at last for _comparatively_ a

trifle.

[Page Header: IRELAND GROUSE-SHOOTING.]

139. I am, however, wandering from our immediate subject. Let us

return to the lecture, and consider how much knowledge your pupil will

have acquired by these preliminary instructions. We shall find that,

with the exception of a systematically confirmed range, really little

remains to be learned, save what his almost unaided instinct will tell

him.

I will give you an instance of what I mean in the conduct of a young

pointer I saw shot over the first day he was ever shown game. You know

that in Ireland grouse-shooting does not commence before the 20th of

August,--a date far more judicious than ours. I well remember that day

at Clonmel in the year 1828. Long before any glimmering of light, one

of our party had fractured the stock of a favourite double barrel, by

carelessly letting it hang across his body at the moment a skittish cob

he was riding rushed through a narrow gateway. The extremities of the

gun caught the side-posts, and if it had not given way, he must have

parted company with his nag. I believe we each made a memorandum, never

whilst riding through a gate to let our guns get athwart-ship. The

morning turned out so dreadfully wet that, after remaining for hours in

a hovel at the foot of the Galtee Mountains, we were forced to return

home. The following day we made a fresh start. Being sadly in want of

dogs, we took out a young pointer who had never seen a bird, but was

tolerably _au fait_ in the initiatory lessons which I have described.

In a short time he began to hunt,--made several points in the course of

the day,--and though _every_ thing was strange to him, (for it was the

first time he had been associated in the field with other dogs,--nay,

almost the first time of his being hunted at all,) yet, from his

comprehension of the several orders that he received, and perfect

obedience, he acquitted himself so creditably, that he was allowed,

not only to be one of the best, but nearly the very best _broken_ dog

of the party. Indeed, the sportsmen who accompanied the owner (for

three guns shot together--a mal-arrangement attributable to accidental

circumstances, not choice) could hardly be persuaded that the dog had

not been shot over the latter end of the preceding season.

140. I name this instance, and I can vouch for its truth, not as an

example to be followed, for it was most injudicious to have so soon

taken out the youngster with companions, but to prove to you how

much you can effect by initiatory instruction; indeed, afterwards,

you will have little else to do than teach and confirm your dog in a

judicious range,--his own sagacity and increasing experience will be

his principal guides,--for, consider how much you will have taught him.

[Page Header: RULES KNOWN.]

141. He will know--

I. That he is to pay attention to his whistle,--the whistle that you

design always to use to him. I mean that, when he hears _one_ low blast

on his whistle he is to look to you for orders, but not necessarily run

towards you, unless he is out of sight, or you continue whistling (19).

II. That "Toho," or the right arm raised nearly perpendicularly, means

that he is to stand still (19 to 22).

III. That "Drop," or the left arm raised nearly perpendicularly, or the

report of a gun, means that he is to crouch down with his head close

to the ground, between his feet, however far off he may be ranging.

Greater relaxation in the position may be permitted after he has been a

little time shot over (23 to 27).

IV. That "On," (the short word for "hie on",) or the forward underhand

swing of the right hand, signifies that he is to advance in a forward

direction (the direction in which you are waving). This signal is

very useful. It implies that you want the dog to hunt ahead of you.

You employ it also when you are alongside of him at his point, and

are desirous of urging him to follow up the running bird or birds,

and press to a rise. If he push on too eagerly, you restrain him by

slightly raising the right hand--XII. of this paragraph (19 to 22).

V. That a wave of the right arm and hand (the arm being fully extended

and well to the right) from left to right, means that he is to hunt to

the right. Some men wave the left hand across the body from left to

right, as a direction to the dog to hunt to the right; but that signal

is not so apparent at a distance as the one I have described (36).

VI. That a wave of the left arm from right to left (the arm being fully

extended and well to the left), means that he is to hunt to the left

(36).

VII. That the "Beckon," the wave of the right hand towards you,

indicates that he is to hunt towards you (37). See also 71.

VIII. That the word "Heel," or a wave of the right hand to the rear

(the reverse of the underhand cricket-bowler's swing), implies that he

is to give up hunting, and go directly close to your heels (44).

IX. That "Fence" means that he is not to leave the place where you are.

After being so checked a few times when he is endeavouring to quit the

field, he will understand the word to be an order not to "break fence"

(46, 47).

X. That "Find," or "Seek," means that he is to search for something

which he will have great gratification in discovering. When he is in

the field he will quickly understand this to be game (34, 35).

XI. That "Dead" (which it would be well to accompany with the signal to

"Heel") means that there is something not far off, which he would have

great satisfaction in finding. On hearing it, he will come to you, and

await your signals instructing him in what direction he is to hunt for

it. When, by signals, you have put him as near as you can upon the spot

where you think the bird has fallen, you will say, "Find;" for, until

you say that word, he ought to be more occupied in attending to your

signals than in searching for the bird. When you have shot a good many

birds to him, if he is within sight, in order to work more silently,

omit saying "Dead," only signal to him to go to "Heel" (19, 34, 35, 44).

XII. That "Care" means that he is near that for which he is hunting.

This word, used with the right hand slightly raised (the signal for the

"Toho," only not exhibited nearly so energetically), will soon make

him comprehend that game is near him, and that he is therefore to hunt

cautiously. You will use it when your young dog is racing too fast

among turnips or potatoes (39).

XIII. That "Up" means that he is to sniff with his nose high in the air

for that of which he is in search (41).

XIV. That "Away" (or "Gone," or "Flown") is an indication that the

thing for which he was hunting, and of which he smells the taint, is no

longer there. This word is not to be used in the field until your young

dog has gained some experience (45).

XV. That "Ware" (pronounced "War") is a general order to desist from

whatever he may be doing. "No" is perhaps a better word: it can be

pronounced more distinctly and energetically. If the command is

occasionally accompanied with the cracking of your whip, its meaning

will soon be understood (47).

XVI. He will also know the distinction between the chiding term "Bad"

and the encouraging word "Good;" and, moreover, be sensible, from your

look and manner, whether you are pleased or angry with him. Dogs, like

children, are physiognomists (40, end of 134).

142. You will perceive that you are advised to use the right hand more

than the left. This is only because the left hand is so generally

employed in carrying the gun.

[Page Header: SHEPHERD'S DOG.]

143. By often and uniformly employing the signals I have named, you

will find it more easy to place your pupil, and make him hunt _exactly_

where you wish, than you may at first suppose. In an open country

the movements of sheep are entirely controlled by dogs; and if you

never have had the opportunity of observing it, you would be no less

surprised than interested at witnessing with what accuracy a shepherd,

standing on a hill side, can, by the motions of his hand and arm,

direct his dog to distant points in the valley below. If you could see

it, you would be satisfied it was not by harsh means that he obtained

such willing, cheerful obedience. His signals to the right, left,

and inwards, are very similar to those just described. He, however,

instructs his dog to go further ahead, by using his hand and arm as in

the action of throwing, but keeping an open palm towards the animal

(the arm raised high): a signal undeniably more visible at a distance

than the one named in IV. of 141, though not generally so well suited

to the sportsman.

144. You will also observe, that when the voice is employed (and

this should be done only when the dog will not obey your signals), I

have recommended you to make use of but _one_ word. Why should you

say, "Come to heel," "Ware breaking fence," "Have a care?" If you

speak in sentences, you may at times unconsciously vary the words of

the sentence, or the emphasis on any word; and as it is only by the

sound that you should expect a dog to be guided, the more defined and

distinct in sound the several commands are, the better.

[Page Header: NAMES DISSIMILAR IN SOUND.]

145. This consideration leads to the remark that, as, by nearly

universal consent, "Toho" is the word employed to tell a dog to point,

the old rule is clearly a judicious one, never to call him "Ponto,"

"Sancho," or by any name ending in "o." Always, too, choose one

that can be hallooed in a sharp, loud, high key. You will find the

advantage of this whenever you lose your dog, and happen not to have a

whistle. Observe, also, if you have several dogs, to let their names be

dissimilar in sound.

[Illustration: DEAF TO THE VOICE OF PERSUASION.--Par. 148.]

[Page Header: "DROP" BETTER THAN "DOWN."]

146. I have suggested your employing the word "Drop," instead of the

usual word "Down," because it is less likely to be uttered by any one

on whom the dog might jump or fawn; for, on principle, I strongly

object to any order being given which is not strictly enforced. It

begets in a dog, as much as in the nobler animal who walks on two legs,

habits of inattention to words of command, and ultimately makes greater

severity necessary. If I felt certain I should never wish to part with

a dog I was instructing, I should carry this principle so far as to

frame a novel vocabulary, and never use any word I thought he would be

likely to hear from others. By-the-bye, whenever you purchase a dog, it

would be advisable to ascertain what words of command, and what signals

he has been accustomed to.

[Page Header: A SOLICITOR.]

147. The fair sex, though possessing unbounded and most _proper_

influence over us, notoriously have but little control over their

canine favourites. This, however, solely arises from their seldom

enforcing obedience to the orders which they give them.

148. If a lady takes a dog out for a walk, she keeps constantly calling

to it, lest it should go astray and be lost. The result is, that ere

long, the dog pays not the slightest attention to her, his own sagacity

telling him that he need not trouble himself to watch her, as she will

be sure to look after him. But she can plead a charming authority

for her weakness,--Charles Lamb--who felt obliged to follow wherever

"Dash" chose to lead; for "Dash" soon found out that he might take what

liberties he pleased with "Elia."

[Illustration: A SOLICITOR.]

149. There is also a varying in the manner, tone of voice, and words

of command, which generally prevents the success of ladies in teaching

a four-footed pet any tricks beyond the art of begging. This feat they

accomplish because they cannot well deviate from the beaten path. They

naturally hold the animal in a proper position while they say, "Beg;

beg, sir, beg;" and do not give him the reward until he has obeyed

orders more or less satisfactorily.

[Page Header: PARASOL EXCHANGED FOR BUN.]

150. Honesty compels us to give them credit for more temper and

patience than fall to the lot of the sterner sex; and if they would but

pursue one steady, uniform, consistent plan, they might (sitting in a

begging attitude not being naturally an agreeable position for a dog)

quite as easily teach him to dance,--hold a pipe in his mouth,--stand

up in a corner,--give the right or left paw,--shut the door,--pull

the bell rope,--leap over a parasol,--or drag forth his napkin, and

spread it as a table-cloth at dinner-time,[23] &c.; and, by following

the method elsewhere explained (96, 107, 109,) seldom lose anything in

their walks, as their faithful companion would almost invariably be on

the alert to pick up and carry to them whatever they might drop. It

is in this manner that dogs are sometimes made very useful assistants

at cricket. A golf-ball maker at St. Andrew's, A----n R----n, employs

his dog yet more usefully--at least more profitably. He has taught

the animal to search the links by himself for balls, and to take

home all he finds. Until the introduction of the universally applied

gutta percha, the price of golf-balls was two shillings each. It may,

therefore, be easily imagined that the diligent little fellow paid

liberally for his board and lodging. But the trick of carrying has been

made as serviceable to the dog as to his master.

151. A cousin of one of my brother officers, Colonel A----n, was taking

a walk in the year '49, at Tonbridge Wells, when a strange Newfoundland

made a snatch at the parasol she held loosely in her hand, and quietly

carried it off. His jaunty air and wagging tail plainly told, as he

marched along, that he was much pleased at his feat. The lady civilly

requested him to restore it. This he declined, but in so gracious a

manner, that she essayed, though ineffectually, to drag it from him.

She therefore laughingly, albeit unwillingly, was constrained to follow

her property rather than abandon it altogether. The dog kept ahead,

constantly looking round to see if she followed, and was evidently

greatly pleased at perceiving that she continued to favour him with

her company. At length, he stepped into a confectioner's, where the

lady renewed her attempts to obtain possession of her property; but as

the Newfoundland would not resign it, she applied to the shopman for

assistance, who said that it was an old trick of the dog's to get a

bun; that if she would give him one, he would immediately return the

stolen goods. She cheerfully did so, and the dog as willingly made the

exchange.

152. I'll be bound the intelligent animal was no mean observer of

countenances, and that he had satisfied himself, by a previous

scrutiny, as to the probability of his delinquencies being forgiven.

[Page Header: TRICKS ABLY PERFORMED.]

153. "Carrying" is a pretty--occasionally, as we see, a useful--trick,

but it does not further any sporting object. "Carrying" and "fetching"

are essentially different. The object chiefly sought in the latter is

to make the dog deliver _expeditiously_ (107),--in the former, to make

him carry _perseveringly_ for miles and miles. To inculcate carrying,

always make him suppose that you greatly regard what is confided to his

charge. Many a good carrier is spoiled by children picking up any stick

and giving it to him. He has the sense to know that it is valueless,

and when he is tired of the fun, he drops it _unrebuked_, and, after

a time, is supplied with another. If you practise a pup in carrying a

stick, show more discretion than to let it be so long that it must jar

against his teeth by trailing on the ground, or hitting the walls.

154. Being on the subject of tricks, as several ladies have done me the

unexpected but highly appreciated honour of reading what I have said

respecting their four-footed attendants, I think it as well to observe,

should they be tempted to teach a favourite any accomplishments, that

these should be practised occasionally, or they may be forgotten,

(all the sooner, like more serious studies, the more easily they were

acquired;) and that the exhibition of them might be made much more

effective and striking by a little exercise, on the ladies' part, of

the address and tact with which Dame Nature has so liberally endowed

them.

155. Quite a sensation was created many years ago, at Tonbridge Wells,

by the Hon. C. D----s, who possessed a dog which had been taught by a

former master, for very unlawful purposes, to fetch, when ordered, any

article to which his owner had slily directed the animal's attention.

156. The gentleman was walking up and down the crowded Pantiles,

listening to the public band, and playing the agreeable to a titled

lady, whom he subsequently married; when, bowing to some passing

acquaintance, he casually observed, "How badly my hat has been

brushed!" at the same time giving the private signal to the dog, who

instantly ran off to one of the adjacent toy-shops, and brought away

the hat-brush which his master had pointed out to him about a quarter

of an hour before.

157. As Mr. D----s kept his own counsel, the lady and many of their

friends, as well as the pursuing shopman, fancied the dog had

sufficient intelligence to understand what had been said, and had, from

his own sagacity, volunteered fetching what he conceived was required.

158. The barrack-rooms at Gibraltar used not to be furnished with

bells. An officer of the Artillery, quartered on the Rock while I was

there, and, by-the-bye, so good a player at draughts, that he used to

aver--and his unusual skill seemed to prove the correctness of the

assertion--that, if he had the first move, he could win to a certainty,

was accustomed to summon his servant by sending his dog for him. On

getting the signal, away the Maltese poodle would go, not much impeded

by closed doors in that hot climate, and, by a bark, inform the man

that he was wanted.

159. The daily routine of a quiet bachelor's life is so unvaried

in those barracks, that the servant could generally guess what was

required; and visitors were often surprised at hearing the officer

(Major F----e) say to his dog, "Tell John to bring my sword and cap,"

or "the breakfast," &c. and still more surprised at seeing that such

orders were punctually obeyed.

[Page Header: ELEPHANT'S TRICKS.]

160. But for exhibiting tricks with effect doubtless my old

warm-hearted friend K----g, (elsewhere mentioned 450,) bears off the

palm. He brought two young elephants to England from Ceylon; one he

secured when it was a mere baby, and would not quit the side of its

dam after he had shot her. The other was about seven feet high. He

had taught them several tricks before they embarked, and during the

long voyage home, passed on deck, they had learned many others from

the sailors, and, when needed, would usefully help in giving "a long

pull,--a strong pull,--and a pull all together."

161. General B----g having spoken to the Duchess of Y----k about the

little animals, she happened to say she would like to possess the

smallest; of course K----g was too gallant a man not to send it at once

to Oatlands. George the Fourth heard of the other; and on some of his

staff mentioning that it would be acceptable to His Majesty, it went to

the Pavilion at Brighton. It was kept there until they were tired of

it, when it was transferred to the Tower. Hearing of its being there,

K----g one morning went into the menagerie. An officer of the Guards,

on duty at the Tower, was at the moment seeing the animals with a party

of ladies; K----g was in a hurry, and inquired where the elephant was,

saying he had come expressly to have a look at him and nothing else.

The officer very good-humouredly observed that it mattered not what

beasts they saw first, so the party adjourned to the elephant. K----g

urged the keeper to go into the den to show him off, but the man said

the animal had so recently arrived there that he was afraid. K----g

offered to go in. The man refused leave, stating it was more than his

situation was worth to permit it. K----g pressed to be allowed. The

officer warmly urged the keeper to comply, "as the gentleman felt so

confident," and the keeper wavering, K----g, without saying another

word, squeezed himself through the massive oak bars, went up boldly

to the elephant, put his hand on his shoulder as he used to do in old

days; the sagacious brute at once obeyed the signal and lay down, got

up again when desired, salaamed to the ladies, held a foot out for

K----g to stand on, then raised it up to aid K----g in getting on his

back, and afterwards lay down to enable his old master to dismount

conveniently. K----g then tickled him to make him kick, which the

awkward looking beast did in a very laughable manner, and the laugh of

the spectators was not diminished by his squeezing K----g so close into

a corner, that he could only escape by slipping under the creature's

belly. K----g finished the exhibition by making him turn round, and

again salaam the company.

162. I will not swear that K----g, who has much quiet humour, did not

propose going into any other den and show off all the lions and tigers

in a similar manner, but he found, of course unexpectedly, on looking

at his watch, that he was obliged to hurry off instantly. The delighted

and bewildered keeper entreated him to reveal the secret by which such

marvellous feats were performed. K----g promised to do so on his return

to London; and he would have kept his word, had not the poor elephant

soon afterwards died in cutting his tusks. So the man to this day,

for all I know to the contrary, thinks my friend little less than a

necromancer.

[Illustration: REPLETE WITH GOOD THINGS.]

[Page Header: LADIES' DOGS OVERFED.]

163. It is to be observed that ladies' dogs are generally so pampered

and overfed that a common reward does not stimulate them to exertion

in the same degree it does dogs less favoured. I should speak more

correctly if I said less _fed_; for I am ungallant enough to fancy,

that an _unpacked_ canine jury would consider the good health, high

spirits, and keen appetite of the latter, a fair set-off against the

delicacies and caresses bestowed by the prettiest and most indulgent of

mistresses. Though the collie is the shepherd's constant companion, the

shepherd well knows that always petting the dog would spoil him. Sir

J----s M----e, a Highlander, observed to his gamekeeper, that he never

saw the shepherds coaxing and caressing their collies. "True," the man

replied, "but you never saw one strike his dog; he is always kind to

them." Hear this, ye ladies, who would be right glad that your pretty

pets were a hundred times more obedient than you find them.

[Page Header: TROUT TAMED.]

164. There are few animals whose confidence, if not attachment, may not

be gained by constant kindness without petting. One summer's morning

I walked from Ross to breakfast with Mr. C----s at his picturesque

old-fashioned house, built near a small tributary to the Wye. I was

specially invited to see some tame trout, whose timidity Mr. C----s

had overcome by feeding them regularly every day. Until he made his

appearance near the waters, not a fish was visible; and it was very

interesting to watch the perfect confidence they evinced, I might

add pleasure, whenever he approached the banks. He said he felt sure

he could get them to feed out of his hands, if he chose to devote

sufficient time to them. There was one fine fellow for whom all the

rest most respectfully made way. He weighed close upon 5 lbs. This was

proved; for a party, whose name I dare not mention, secretly caught

the animal in order to weigh it, and though he immediately replaced

it in the water perfectly uninjured, yet its old distrust was so much

re-awakened that it hid itself for four or five months. Mr. C----s

naturally thought that it had been captured by some poacher, and had

met with the same unlucky fate as a former favourite, of still larger

dimensions, which a newly-hired cook had contrived to secure whilst it

was basking in the shallows; and had served up at dinner-time, in the

full expectation of receiving much commendation for her piscatory skill.

165. Judicious perseverance,--in other words, consistency,--will not

only teach accomplishments, but correct bad manners. The oldest friend

I possess used to allow a favourite dog to sleep in his bed-room. The

animal, though he had a very short, clean coat, was always more or

less annoyed by those nimblest of tormentors[24] to be found in most

countries, particularly in warm ones; and there being no carpet in the

room, his scratching at night, as you may well imagine, made a loud,

disagreeable thumping against the boards, which _invariably_ awoke my

friend (a very light sleeper), and he as _invariably_ scolded the dog.

This undeviating consistency made the dog at length entirely relinquish

the obnoxious practice, until his master was fairly awake, or at least

had begun to stretch and yawn.

[Page Header: JUDICIOUS PERSEVERANCE.]

166. Now, I want you to observe, that had the noise but only

_occasionally_ awakened my friend, however much he might then have

scolded, the dog would not have given up the habit; he would constantly

have entertained the hope that he might endeavour to remove his tiny

persecutors unreproved, and the temptation would have outweighed the

risk. It would have been inconsistent to have frequently but not

always checked him. I know a lady, possessing great perseverance and

temper, who has taught even cats many tricks--nay, since the last

edition of this book was printed I have heard of several ladies having

most successfully educated dogs for the field. A very pleasant girl,

Miss G----h, almost a stranger to me, who sat next to me at a large

dinner-party about a year ago, asked me in the course of conversation

whether I was related to the author of "Dog-Breaking,"--and then

greatly gratified me by saying that her sister had broken in several

Pointers for her brother, a M.F.H. She spoke of one particular 1st of

September, when her sister was rather nervous as a well-known keen

sportsman had been invited to shoot, and a young well-bred dog, solely

tutored by herself, was to bear his first shot--but at dinner-time she

was amply recompensed for all the trouble she had taken by having the

delight of learning that her pupil had performed admirably, and had

understood and been attentive to every signal. I asked how it was that

the youngster was not alarmed at the report of the gun. She replied

that it was doubtless attributable to his perfect confidence that he

should not be hurt, as he had never undergone any punishing during the

whole course of his training.

[Page Header: WIN AFFECTION.]

167. Ladies' pets are a proof that dogs can, as easily as children,

be effectually spoiled by injudicious kindness; but canine nature

contrasts with infant nature in this, that no petting or spoiling will

withdraw a dog's affection from the individual to whom he first becomes

attached in a new home, provided that person continues but decently

civil to him. And be this a caution to you. If ever you have a stranger

to instruct, let no one but yourself associate with or feed him for

many days after his arrival. You may then feel assured of afterwards

possessing his unrivalled affections, especially if to you alone he is

to be grateful for his enjoyment in the field; and you must win his

affection, or he will not strive to his utmost to assist you.

168. A well-known poaching character,--though ostensibly, and by

_profession_, a dog-breaker,--was remarkable for the fondness

immediately evinced for him by all dogs placed under his care. He was

not particular about his dress; and it at length transpired that it was

his custom to make up a bed, for all new comers, in his room, of the

clothes he had just taken off. This so habituated the dogs to the scent

of his person, by night as well as by day, that they became unwilling

to quit it, especially as the man was naturally good-tempered, and

always treated them with great kindness.

169. Captain Parry relates of the Esquimaux dogs, that they are far

more attached,--from kindnesses received in youth,--to the women,

than to the men; and that, consequently, the latter, in all cases

of difficulty, are obliged to apply to their wives to catch the

almost woolly animals, and coax them to draw unusually heavy loads.

The beloved voice of the women will control and animate the dogs to

exertion, at a time when the words of the men would be powerless, and

their blows only produce irritation or obstinacy.

CHAPTER VI.

FIRST LESSON IN SEPTEMBER COMMENCED. RANGING.

170. Regular Breakers make Dogs "point" paired birds in Spring; tends

to blinking.--171. Better not to see Game until shot over; taken out

alone on a fine day in September.--172. Perpetually whistling to

animate dogs, injudicious.--173. Beat largest Fields, and where least

likely to find Game.--174. Commence from leeward; Scent bad in a calm

or gale; observations on Scent; it differently affects Pointers and

Setters; see Note.--175 to 179. Instructions in "ranging."--180. Kept

from hedge; Range greater on moors than stubble.--181. Distance between

Parallels dependent on tenderness of nose.--182. A point at Partridge a

hundred yards off.--183. At Grouse a hundred and fifty yards off; Mr.

L----g's opinion of distance at which Dogs wind birds.--184. If the

Dog is to hunt with another, the Parallels to be further apart.--185.

No interruption when winding birds, yet not allowed to puzzle; Nose

to gain experience.--186. Birds lie well to Dog that "winds," not

"foots" them.--187. White Dogs most visible to _birds_ and to _you_; a

disadvantage and advantage; white Feet often not good; feet of Setters

better than of Pointers.--188. Inattentive to Whistle, made to "drop,"

&c.; when rating or punishing, the disregarded order or signal to

be often repeated; Whip to crack loudly.--189. The attainment of a

scientific Range difficult, but of surpassing value; the best ranger

must in the end find most game.

[Page Header: "BREAKING" IN PAIRING SEASON.]

170. A keeper nearly always breaks in his young dogs to point, (or

"set" as some term it) if their ages permit it, on favourable days

in Spring, when the partridges have paired.[25] He gets plenty of

points, and the birds lie well. But I cannot believe it is the best

way to attain great excellence, though the plan has many followers: it

does not cultivate the intelligence of his pupils, nor enlarge their

ideas by making them sensible of the object for which such pains are

taken in hunting them. Moreover, their natural ardour (a feeling that

it should be his aim rather to increase than weaken) is more or less

damped by having often to stand at game, before they can be rewarded

for their exertions by having it killed to them,--it prevents, rather

than imparts, the zeal and perseverance for which Irish dogs are so

remarkable (565). Particularly ought a breaker, whose pupil is of

a nervous temperament, or of too gentle a disposition, to consider

well that the want of all recompense for finding paired birds, must

make a timid dog far more likely to become a "blinker," when he is

checked for not pointing them, than when he is checked for not pointing

birds, which his own impetuosity alone deprives him of every chance of

rapturously "touseling." (See also end of 280.) The very fact that "the

birds lie well" frequently leads to mischief; for, if the instructor

be not very watchful, there is a fear that his youngsters may succeed

in getting too close to their game before he forces them to come to a

stanch point. A keeper, however, has but little choice, (and it is not

a bad time to teach the back,) if his master insist upon shooting over

the animals the first day of the season, and expect to find them what

some call "perfectly broken in." But I trust some few of my readers

may have nobler ends in view, and that they will cheerfully sacrifice

a little of their shooting the first week of the season, to ensure

super-excellence in their pupils at its close. Remember, I do not

object to spring drilling, (vide 131) but to much spring pointing.

171. I will suppose your youngster to have been well grounded in his

initiatory lessons, and that you take him out when the crops are nearly

off the ground (by which time there will be few squeakers) on a fine

cool day in September, (alas! that it cannot be an August day on the

moors,) to show him birds for the first time. As he is assumed to be

highly-bred, you may start in the confident expectation of killing

partridges over him, especially if he be a pointer. Have his nose moist

and healthy. Take him out when the birds are on the feed, and of an

afternoon in preference to the morning, (unless from an unusually dry

season there be but little scent,) that he may not be attracted by

the taint of hares or rabbits. Take him out alone, if he evince any

disposition to hunt, which, at the age we will presume him to have

attained this season, we must assume that he will do, and with great

zeal. Be much guided by his temper and character. Should he possess

great courage and dash, you cannot begin too soon to make him point.

You should always check a wild dog in racing after pigeons and small

birds on their rising; whereas you should encourage a timid dog (one

who clings to "heel") in such a fruitless but exciting chase. The

measures to be pursued with such an animal are fully detailed in 132,

133.

[Page Header: CONSTANT LOW WHISTLE INJUDICIOUS.]

172. I may as well caution you against adopting the foolish practice of

attempting to cheer on your dog with a constant low whistle, under the

mistaken idea that it will animate him to increased zeal in hunting.

From perpetually hearing the monotonous sound, it would prove as little

of an incentive to exertion as a continued chirrup to a horse; and yet

if habituated to it, your dog would greatly miss it whenever hunted by

a stranger. Not unregarded, however, would it be by the birds, to whom

on a calm day it would act as a very salutary warning.

173. Though you have not moors, fortunately we can suppose your fields

to be of a good size. Avoid all which have been recently manured.

Select those that are large, and in which you are the least likely

to find birds until his spirits are somewhat sobered, and he begins

partly to comprehend your instructions respecting his range. There is

no reason why he should not have been taken out a few days before this,

_not to show him birds_, but to have commenced teaching him how to

traverse his ground. Indeed, if we had supposed him of a sufficient age

(132), he might by this time be somewhat advanced towards a systematic

beat. It is seeing many birds early that is to be deprecated, not his

being taught how to range.

[Page Header: SCENT INEXPLICABLE.]

174. _Be careful to enter every field at the leeward_[26] side (about

the middle), that he may have the wind to work against. Choose a day

when there is a breeze, but not a boisterous one. In a calm, the scent

is stationary, and can hardly be found unless accidentally. In a gale

it is scattered to the four quarters.[27] You want not an undirected

ramble, but a judicious traversing beat under your own guidance, which

shall leave no ground unexplored, and yet have none twice explored.

[Page Header: INSTRUCTIONS IN RANGING.]

175. Suppose the form of the field, as is usually the case, to approach

a parallelogram or square, and that the wind blows in any direction

but diagonally across it. On entering at the leeward side send the dog

from you by a wave of your hand or the word "On." You wish him, while

you are advancing up the middle of it, to cross you at right angles,

say from right to left,--then to run up wind for a little, parallel to

your own direction, and afterwards to re-cross in front of you from

left to right, and so on until the whole field is regularly hunted. To

effect this, notwithstanding your previous preparatory lessons, you

will have to show him the way, as it were (setting him an example in

your own person), by running a few steps in the direction you wish him

to go (say to the right), cheering him on to take the lead. As he gets

near the extremity of his beat, when he does not observe you, you can

steal a small advance in the true direction of your own beat, which is

directly up the middle of the field, meeting the wind. If perceiving

your advance he turns towards you, face him,--wave your right hand to

him, and while he sees you, run on a few paces in his direction (that

is _parallel_ to his true direction). As he approaches the hedge (the

one on your right hand, but be careful that he does not get close

to it, lest, from often finding game there, he ultimately become a

potterer and regular hedge-hunter) face towards him, and on catching

his eye, wave your left arm. If you cannot succeed in catching his eye,

you must give one low whistle,--the less you habituate yourself to use

the whistle, the less you will alarm the birds,--study to do all, as

far as is practicable, by signals. You wish your wave of the left arm

to make the dog turn to the left (his head to the wind), and that he

should run parallel to the side of the hedge for some yards (say from

thirty to forty) before he makes his second turn to the left to cross

the field; but you must expect him to turn too directly towards you

on your first signal to turn. Should he by any rare chance have made

the turn (the first one) correctly, and thus be hunting up wind, on no

account interrupt him by making any signals until he has run up the

distance you wish, (the aforesaid thirty or forty yards,)--then again

catch his eye, and, as before (not now, however, faced towards him and

the hedge, but faced towards your true direction), by a wave of the

left arm endeavour to make him turn to the left (across the wind). If,

contrary to what you have a right to suppose, he will not turn towards

you on your giving a whistle and wave of your hand, stand still, and

continue whistling--eventually he will obey. But you must not indulge

in the faintest hope that all I have described will be done correctly;

be satisfied at first with an approach towards accuracy; you will daily

find an improvement, if you persevere steadily. When you see that there

is but little chance of his turning the way you want, at once use the

signal more consonant to his views, for it should be your constant

endeavour to make him fancy that he is always ranging according to the

directions of your hands. Be particular in attending to this hint.

176. His past tuition (38) most probably will have accustomed him to

watch your eye for directions, therefore it is not likely, even should

he have made a wrong turn near the hedge (a turn down wind instead

of up wind, which would wholly have prevented the required advance

parallel to the hedge), that he will cross in rear of you. Should he,

however, do so, retreat a few steps, (or face about if he is far in the

rear,) in order to impress him with the feeling that all his work must

be performed under your eye. Animate him with an encouraging word as he

passes. When he gets near the hedge to the left, endeavour, by signals

(agreeably to the method just explained) (175), to make him turn to

the (his) right, his head to the wind, and run up alongside of it for

the thirty to forty yards, if you can manage it, before he begins to

re-cross the field, by making a second turn to the right. If you could

get him to do this, he would cross well in advance of you.

177. Though most likely his turn (the first--the turn up wind) will

be too abrupt (too much of an acute angle instead of the required

right angle), and that consequently, in order to get ahead of you, he

will have to traverse the field diagonally, yet after a few trials it

is probable he will do so, rather than not get in front of you. This

would be better than the former attempt (not obliging you to face

about),--express your approval, and the next turn near the hedge may

be made with a bolder sweep. Remember your aim is, that no part be

unhunted, and that none once commanded by his nose be again hunted.

He ought to cross, say thirty yards in front of you, but _much_ will

depend upon his nose.

[Page Header: TO WATCH FOR SIGNALS.]

178. Nearly on every occasion of catching his eye, except when he is

running up wind parallel to the hedge, give him some kind of signal.

This will more and more confirm him in the habit of looking to you,

from time to time, for orders, and thus aid in insuring his constant

obedience. After a while, judging by the way in which your face is

turned, he will know in what direction you purpose advancing, and will

guide his own movements accordingly. Should he, as most probably he

will for some time, turn too sharply towards you when getting near the

hedge, I mean at too acute an angle, incline or rather face towards

him. This, coupled with the natural wish to range unrestrained, will

make him hunt longer parallel to the hedge, before he makes his second

turn towards you.

179. You may at first strive to correct your dog's turning too

abruptly inwards (the first turn), by pushing on in your own person

further ahead on your own beat; but when he has acquired if merely

the slightest idea of a correct range, be most careful not to get in

advance of the ground he is to hunt. Your doing so might habituate him

to cross the field diagonally (thereby leaving much of the sides of the

fields unhunted), in order to get ahead of you; and, moreover, _you_

might spring birds which you are anxious _he_ should find. Should he,

on the other hand, be inclined to work too far upward before making his

turn to cross the field, hang back in your own person.

[Page Header: RANGE GREATER ON MOORS.]

180. Though you may be in an unenclosed country, let him range at first

from no more than from seventy to eighty yards on each side of you.

You can gradually extend these lateral beats as he becomes conversant

with his business--indeed, at the commencement, rather diminish than

increase the distances just named, both for the length of the parallels

and the space between them. Do not allow the alluring title "a fine

wide ranger" to tempt you to let him out of leading-strings. If he be

once permitted to imagine that he has a discretionary power respecting

the best places to hunt, and the direction and length of his beats, you

will find it extremely difficult to get him again well in hand. On the

moors his range must be far greater than on the stubbles, but still the

rudiments must be taught on this contracted scale, or you will never

get him to look to you for orders. Do _you_ keep entire control over

his beats; let _him_ have almost the sole management of his drawing

upon birds, provided he does not puzzle, or run riot too long over an

old haunt. Give him time, and after a little experience his nose will

tell him more surely than your judgment can, whether he is working

on the "toe" or "heel" of birds, and, whether he diverges from or

approaches the strongest and most recent haunt,--do not flurry or hurry

him, and he will soon acquire that knowledge.

[Page Header: POWERS OF SCENT VARY.]

181. As the powers of scent vary greatly in different dogs, the depth

of their turns (or parallels) ought to vary also, and it will be

hereafter for you to judge what distance between the parallels it

is most advantageous for your youngster ultimately to adopt in his

general hunting. The deeper his turns are, of course, the more ground

you will beat within a specified time. What you have to guard against

is the possibility of their being so wide that birds may be passed

by unnoticed. I should not like to name the distance within which

good _cautious_ dogs that carry their heads high, will wind game on a

favourable day.

182. I was partridge-shooting the season before last with an intimate

friend. The air was soft and there was a good breeze. We came upon a

large turnip-field, deeply trenched on account of its damp situation.

A white setter, that habitually carried a lofty head, drew for awhile,

and then came to a point. We got up to her. She led us across some

ridges, when her companion, a jealous dog (a pointer), which had at

first backed correctly, most improperly pushed on in front, but, not

being able to acknowledge the scent, went off, clearly imagining the

bitch was in error. She, however, held on, and in beautiful style

brought us direct to a covey. My friend and I agreed that she must have

been but little, if at all, less than one hundred yards off when she

first winded the birds; and it was clear to us that they could not have

been running, for the breeze came directly across the furrows, and she

had led us in the wind's eye. We thought the point the more remarkable,

as it is generally supposed that the strong smell of turnips diminishes

a dog's power of scenting birds.

[Page Header: SCENT ONE HUNDRED YARDS.]

183. R----t T----n, a gamekeeper, once assured me he had seen a point

at grouse which were at the least one hundred and fifty yards off. The

dogs were on the edge of a valley--the pack on a little hillock from

which direction the wind blew--an intervening wall near the top of

the hillock separated them from the dogs; and as intermediately there

was no heather, the man was satisfied that the birds had not run over

the ground. When I was talking one day to Mr. L----g, the well-known

gunmaker in the Haymarket, about the qualities of dogs' noses,--and

from his long experience he ought to be a judge of such matters,--he

told me, before I had said a word respecting distances, that he thought

he had seen more than once a dog point at one hundred and fifty yards

from his game.

184. If you design your pupil, when broken in, to hunt with a

companion, and wish both the dogs, as is usual, to cross you, you will,

of course, habituate him to make his sweeps (the space between the

parallels) wider than if you had intended him to hunt without any one

to share his labours.

185. I need hardly warn you to be careful not to interrupt him whenever

he appears to be winding birds. However good his nose may be by nature,

it will not gain experience and discrimination, unless you give him a

certain time to determine for himself whether he has really touched

upon a faint scent of birds, and whether they are in his front or rear,

or gone away altogether. Like every other faculty, his sense of smell

will improve the more it is exercised. But on the other hand, as I

observed before, do not let him continue puzzling with his nose close

to the ground,--urge him on,--make him increase his pace,--force him to

search elsewhere, and he will gradually elevate his head, and catching

the scent of other particles, will follow up these with a nose borne

aloft, unless he is a brute not worth a twentieth part of the pains

which you think of bestowing upon him; for,

186. Besides the greatly decreased chance of finding them, birds that

to a certainty would become uneasy, and make off if pursued by a dog

tracking them, will often lie well to one who finds them by the wind.

They are then not aware that they are discovered, and the dog, from the

information his nose gives him, can approach them either boldly or with

great wariness, according as he perceives them to be more or less shy.

[Page Header: FIND BY WIND.--WHITE DOGS.]

187. It is rather foreign to our immediate subject, but I will here

observe, that it is generally thought white dogs cannot approach shy

birds[28] as closely as dogs of a dark colour can (93); but there

is a set-off to this supposed disadvantage in _your_ being able to

distinguish the light ones more readily at a distance,--a matter of

some moment on heather. If you have not your eye on a steady brown

setter at the moment he drops on grouse, you may spend half an hour

most vexatiously in searching for him. When you expect to find the

birds wild, should your kennel allow you the choice, you ought to take

out those of a sombre hue. Light coloured dogs have not generally

such well-shaped feet as their darker brethren. It is curious that

white feet in dogs as well as in horses should often be objectionable.

As a rule, setters have harder, tougher feet than pointers. This is

very apparent in a flinty country or in frosty weather, and is partly

attributable to their being better defended with hair round the ball,

and between the toes.

188. If, being unable to catch the dog's eye, you are forced to use the

whistle frequently, and he continues inattentive to it, notwithstanding

his previous tuition, stand still,--make him lie down (by the word

"drop," if he will not obey your raised left arm)--go up to him,--take

hold of his collar, and rate him, saying, "Bad, bad," cracking your

whip over him (let the whip be one that will crack loudly, not for

present purposes, but that, when occasion requires, he may hear it at

a distance) and whistling softly. This will show him (should you beat

him, you would confuse his ideas) that he is chidden for not paying

attention to the whistle. Indeed, whenever you have occasion to scold

or punish him, make it a constant rule, while you rate him, to repeat

many times the word of command, or the signal which he has neglected to

obey. There is no other way by which you will make him understand you

_quickly_.

[Page Header: SYSTEMATIC RANGE.]

189. You must expect that your young dog will for some time make sad

mistakes in his range;--but be not discouraged. Doubtless there is no

one thing,--I was going to say, that there are no dozen things,--in

the whole art of dog-breaking, which are so difficult to attain, or

which exact so much labour, as a high, well-confirmed, systematic

range. Nature will not assist you:--you must do it all yourself; but

in recompense there is nothing so advantageous when it is at length

acquired. It will abundantly repay months of persevering exertion. It

constitutes the grand criterion of true excellence. Its attainment

makes a dog of inferior nose and action far superior to one of much

greater natural qualifications who may be tomfooling about, galloping

backwards and forwards sometimes over identically the same ground,

quite uselessly exerting his travelling powers; now and then, indeed,

arrested by the suspicion of a haunt, which he is not experienced

enough, or sufficiently taught, to turn to good account,--and

occasionally brought to a stiff point on birds accidentally found right

under his nose. It is undeniable, _cæteris paribus_, that the dog who

hunts his ground most according to rule must in the end find most game.

CHAPTER VII.

FIRST LESSONS IN SEPTEMBER CONTINUED. CAUTION.--NATURE'S MYSTERIOUS

INFLUENCES.

190. Dog to be hunted alone.--191. Many Breakers exactly reverse this;

it expedites an inferior education, but retards a superior.--192.

Turnips, Potatoes, &c., avoided. Range of Dogs broken on moors most

true.--193. In Turnips, &c., young Dogs get too close to birds.--194.

_Cautious_ Dogs may with advantage be as fast as wild ones; the two

contrasted; in Note, injudiciousness of teaching A Puppy to "point"

Chickens.--195. Instance of a Dog's running to "heel," but not

"blinking," on finding himself close to birds.--196. A Dog's Nose

cannot be improved, but his _caution_ can, which is nearly tantamount;

how effected.--197. How to make fast Dogs cautious.--198. The cause

why wild Dogs ultimately turn out best.--199. Dog tumbling over and

pointing on his Back.--200. Dog pointing on top of high-log Fence

at quail in tree; in Note, Militia Regiment that sought safety by

taking to Trees.--201. The day's Beat commenced from leeward.--202.

Wondrous Dogs, which find Game without hunting.--203. Colonel T----y's

opinion.--204 to 209. His dog "Grouse," that walked up direct to her

Game.--210. "Grouse's" portrait.--211 to 213. Probable solution of

"Grouse's" feat; in Note, why high nose finds most game.--214. Reason

why Dogs should be instructed separately, and allowed Time to work

out a Scent; young dogs generally too much hurried.--215. Mysterious

Influences.--216. Retriever that runs direct to hidden object.--217.

Not done by nose.--218. Newfoundland that always swam back to his

own Ship.--219. Another that did the same.--220. Now belongs to the

Duke of N----k.--221. Cats and Dogs carried off in baskets, finding

their way back; Nature's Mysteries inexplicable. In Note, instance of

extraordinary memory in a Horse.

190. If it is your fixed determination to confirm your dog in the

truly-killing range described in the last Chapter, do not associate

him for months in the field with another dog, however highly broken.

It would be far better to devote but two hours per diem to your pupil

exclusively, than to hunt him the whole day with a companion.

[Page Header: OLD DOG LEADER.]

191. Many breakers do exactly the reverse of this. They take out an

old steady ranger, with the intention that he shall lead the young

dog, and that the latter, from imitation and habit, shall learn how

to quarter his ground. But what he gains by imitation will so little

improve his intellects, that, when thrown upon his own resources, he

will prove a miserable finder. On a hot, dry day he will not be able

to make out a feather, nor on any day to "foot" a delicate scent. I

grant that the plan expedites matters, and attains the end which _most_

professional trainers seek; but it will not give a dog self-confidence

and independence, it will not impart to him an inquiring nose, and

make him rely on its sensitiveness to discover game, rather than to

his quickness of eye to detect when his friend touches upon a haunt;

nor will it instruct him to look from time to time towards the gun

for directions. It may teach him a range, but not to hunt where he is

ordered; nor will it habituate him to vary the breadth of the parallels

on which he works, according as his master may judge it to be a good or

bad scenting day.

[Page Header: RANGE EASIEST TAUGHT ON MOORS.]

192. To establish the rare, noble beat I am recommending,--one not

hereafter to be deranged by the temptation of a furrow in turnips or

potatoes,--you must have the philosophy not to hunt your dog in them

until he is accustomed in his range to be guided entirely by the wind

and your signals, and is in no way influenced by the nature of the

ground. Even then it would be better not to beat narrow strips across

which it would be impossible for him to make his regular casts. Avoid,

too, for some time, if you can, all small fields (which will only

contract his range), and all fields with trenches or furrows, for he

will but too naturally follow them instead of paying attention to his

true beat. Have you never, in low lands, seen a young dog running down

a potato or turnip trench, out of which his master, after much labour,

had no sooner extracted him than he dropped into the adjacent one? It

is the absence of artificial tracks which makes the range of nearly

all dogs _well_ broken on the moors so much truer than that of dogs

hunted on cultivated lands.

193. Moreover, in turnips, potatoes, clover, and the like thick

shelter, birds will generally permit a dog to approach so closely,

that if he is much accustomed to hunt such places, he will be sure

to acquire the evil habit of pressing too near his game when finding

on the stubbles (instead of being startled as it were into an

instantaneous stop the moment he first winds game), and thus raise many

a bird out of gun-shot that a _cautious_ dog,--one who slackens his

pace the instant he judges that he is beating a likely spot,--would not

have alarmed.

[Page Header: SEARCHING NOSE.]

194. "A _cautious_ dog"! Can there well be a more flattering

epithet?[29] Such a dog can hardly travel too fast[30] in a tolerably

open country, where there is not a superabundance of game, _if_

he really hunt with an inquiring nose;--but to his master what an

all-important "if" is this! It marks the difference between the

sagacious, wary, patient, yet diligent animal, whose every sense

and every faculty is absorbed in his endeavour to make out birds,

not for himself but for the gun, and the wild harum-scarum who

blunders up three-fourths of the birds he finds. No! not _finds_, but

frightens,--for he is not aware of their presence until they are on the

wing, and seldom points unless he gets some heedless bird right under

his nose, when an ignoramus, in admiration of the beauty of the dog's

sudden attitude, will often forget the mischief which he has done.

195. Nature gives this caution to some dogs at an early age. A

clergyman of my acquaintance, Mr. G. M----t, a keen sportsman in his

younger days, told me that when he was partridge-shooting once in

Essex, a favourite pointer of his, that was ranging at a rapid pace

alongside a thick hedge, coming suddenly upon an opening where there

should have been a gate, instantly wheeled round and ran to heel, and

then commenced carefully advancing with a stiffened stern towards the

gap; and so led his master up to live birds which were lying close to

it, but on the further side. Evidently the _cautious_ dog,--for he was

no blinker,--on so unexpectedly finding himself in such close vicinity

to the covey, must have fancied that his presence would alarm them,

however motionless he might remain.

196. Though you cannot improve a dog's nose, you can do what is really

tantamount to it--you can increase his caution. By watching for the

slightest token of his feathering, and then calling out "Toho," or

making the signal, you will gradually teach him to look out for the

faintest indication of a scent, and _point the instant he winds it_,

instead of heedlessly hunting on until he meets a more exciting

effluvia. (See 259 to 261, also 329.) If from a want of animation in

his manner you are not able to judge of the moment when he first winds

game, and therefore are unable to call out "Toho" until he gets close

to birds, quietly pull him back from his point "dead to leeward" for

some paces, and there make him resume his point. Perseverance in this

plan will ultimately effect your wishes, unless his nose be radically

wrong. A dog's pointing too near his game more frequently arises from

want of caution,--in other words, from want of good instruction,--than

from a defective nose.

[Page Header: CAUTION TAUGHT.]

197. Slow dogs readily acquire this caution; but fast dogs cannot be

taught it without great labour. You have to show them the necessity of

diminishing their pace, that their noses may have fair play. If you

have such a pupil to instruct, when you get near birds you have marked

down, signal to him to come to "heel." _Whisper_ to him "Care," and

let him see by your light, slow tread your anxiety not to alarm the

game. If he has never shown any symptoms of blinking, you may, a few

times, thus spring the birds yourself while you keep him close to you.

On the next occasion of marking down birds, or coming to a very likely

spot, bring him into "heel," and after an impressive injunction to

take "care," give him two or three very limited casts to the right or

left, and let _him_ find the game while you instruct him as described

in 329. As there will be no fear of such a dog making false points,

take him often to the fields where he has most frequently met birds.

The expectation of again coming on them, and the recollection of the

lectures he there received, will be likely to make him cautious on

entering it. I remember a particular spot in a certain field that early

in the season constantly held birds. A young dog I then possessed never

approached it afterwards without drawing upon it most carefully, though

he had not found there for months. At first I had some difficulty in

preventing the "draw" from becoming a "point."

198. I have elsewhere observed that fast dogs, which give most trouble

in breaking, usually turn out best. Now if you think for a moment you

will see the reason plainly. A young dog does not ultimately become

first-rate because he is wild and headstrong, and regardless of

orders, but because his speed and disobedience arise from his great

energies,--from his fondness for the sport; from his longing to inhale

the exhilarating scent and pursue the flying game. It is the possession

of these qualities that makes him, in his anxious state of excitement,

blind to your signals and deaf to your calls. These obviously are

qualities that, _under good management_,[31] lead to great excellence

and superiority,--that make one dog do the work of two. But they are

not qualities sought for by an idle or incompetent breaker. He would

prefer the kind of dog mentioned in 280, and boast much of the ability

he had displayed in training him. These valuable qualities in the fast

dog, must, however, be accompanied by a searching nose. It is not

enough that a dog be always apparently hunting, that is to say, always

on the gallop--his nose should always be hunting. When this is the case

(and you may be pretty certain it is if, as he crosses the breeze, his

nose has intuitively a bearing to windward), you need not fear that he

will travel too fast, or not repay you ultimately for the great extra

trouble caused by his high spirits and ardour for the sport.

[Page Header: CAUTIOUS DOGS.]

199. The Rev. Mr. M----t (spoken of in 195) had one of these valuable,

fast, but cautious dogs. The dog, in leaping over a stile that led

from an orchard and crowned a steep bank, accidentally tumbled head

over heels. He rolled to the bottom of the bank, and there remained

motionless on his back. Mr. M----t went up in great distress, fancying

his favourite must have been seriously injured. However, on his

approaching the dog, up sprung some partridges, which, it appears, the

_careful_ animal must have winded, and fearing to disturb, would not

move a muscle of his body, for happily he was in no way hurt by the

fall.

[Illustration:

"He rolled to the bottom of the bank, and there lay motionless on his

back." Par. 199]

[Page Header: QUAILS TREEING.]

200. I was shooting in the upper provinces of Canada over a young dog,

who suddenly checked himself and came to a stiff "set" on the top of a

high zigzag log fence. I could not believe that he was cunning enough

to do this for the purpose of deceiving me, because I was rating him

for quitting the field before me; and yet why should he be pointing in

mid-air as rigidly as if carved in stone? On my going up the enigma was

solved, by a bevy of quail flying out of a neighbouring tree.[32] It

is said they often take to them in America: but this was the only

instance I ever saw. But we will now hark back to your pup, which, for

your sake, I wish may turn out as cautious a dog.

201. You have been recommended invariably to enter every field by the

leeward side. This you can generally accomplish with ease, if you

commence your day's beat to leeward. Should circumstances oblige you to

enter a field on the windward side, make it a rule, as long as your dog

continues a youngster, to call him to "heel," and walk down the field

with him until you get to the opposite side (the leeward),--then hunt

him regularly up to windward.

202. I have read wondrous accounts of dogs, who, without giving

themselves the trouble of quartering their ground, would walk straight

up to the birds if there were any in the field. It has never been my

luck, I do not say to have possessed such marvellous animals, but even

to have been favoured with a sight of them. I therefore am inclined

to think that, let your means be what they may, you would find it

better not to advertise for creatures undoubtedly most rare, but to

act upon the common belief that, as the scent of birds, more or less,

impregnates the air, no dog, let his nose be ever so fine, can, except

accidentally, wind game unless he seek for the taint in the air,--and

that the dog who regularly crosses the wind must have a better chance

of finding it, than he who only works up wind,--and that down wind he

can have little other chance than by "roading."

[Page Header: "GROUSE."--COL. T----Y'S BITCH.]

203. Thus had I written, for such was my opinion, but Colonel T----y,

mentioned in 99, having seen the preceding paragraph, in the first

edition, spoke to me on the subject, and, as he thinks such a dog

occasionally may be found, and gave good reasons for so believing, I

begged him to commit the singular facts to paper; for I felt it a kind

of duty to give my readers the most accurate information in my power on

a matter of such interest. He writes:--

204. "I should like to show you the portrait of a favourite old pointer

of mine, who certainly had the gift of walking up straight to her birds

without, apparently, taking the trouble of looking for them, and about

which I see you are naturally somewhat sceptical. It was in this wise:--

205. "I had gone down into Wales, with my Norfolk pointers, in order

to commit great slaughter upon some packs of grouse frequenting the

moors belonging to my brother-in-law; my dogs, I think, were fair

average ones, but the three did not find so many birds, I was going

to say, in a week as old 'Grouse' (the pointer alluded to) did in a

day. She had been, previous to my arrival, a sort of hanger-on about

the stables,--gaining a scanty subsistence by foraging near the

house,--until she was four years old, without ever having been taken to

the adjoining moor, at least, in a regular way.

[Illustration: SAFELY MOORED 'STEM' AND 'STERN.' Page 119, Note.]

206. "One morning as I was riding up to the moor she followed me;

happening to cast my eyes to the right I saw her pointing very steadily

in a batch of heather not far from a young plantation. I rode up, and

a pack of grouse rose within twenty yards. This induced me to pay more

attention to my four-footed companion; and the result was, that in

a week's time the Norfolk pointers were shut up in the kennel, and

the neglected 'Grouse' became my constant associate. A more eccentric

animal, however, cannot well be conceived. She hunted just what ground

she liked--paid no attention whatever to call or whistle--would have

broken the hearts of a dozen Norfolk keepers, by the desperate manner

in which she set all rules for quartering at defiance,--but she found

game with wonderful quickness, and in an extraordinary manner. She

seemed, in fact, to have the power of going direct to where birds lay,

without taking the preliminary trouble of searching for them; and, when

the packs of grouse were wild, I have seen her constantly leave her

point, make a wide circuit, and come up in such direction as to get

them between herself and me.

"She was, in every way, a most singular creature. No one did she

regard as her master:--no one would she obey. She showed as little

pleasure when birds fell, as disappointment when they flew away; but

continued her odd, eccentric movements until she became tired or birds

scarce, and then quietly trotted home, totally regardless of my softest

blandishments or my fiercest execrations.

208. "She was beautifully-shaped, with round well-formed feet, her

forehead prominent, and her nostrils expanded more, I think, than I

ever saw in any dog.

209. "I bred from her, but her offspring were not worth their salt,

although their father was a good dog, and had seen some service in

Norfolk turnips."

210. As a horse-dealer once said to me, "I'd ride many a mile, and pay

my own pikes," to see such an animal; but, "Grouse," being, unhappily,

no longer in the land of the living, I was forced to content myself

with merely looking at her portrait. This, however, afforded me much

pleasure; I therefore obtained the owner's permission to have it

engraved. He says that she always much arched her loins when at a

point close to game, and that the artist has most happily hit off her

attitude. She is the darker dog of the two, and stands, as soldiers

say, on the "_proper_ left." Her companion, "Juno," was far from a bad

bitch.

[Page Header: "GROUSE'S" FEAT EXPLAINED.]

211. Might not this singular feat of "Grouse's" be thus explained?--

212. The longer the time that has elapsed since the emission of

particles of scent, the more feeble is that scent, on account of

the greater dispersion of the said particles; but, from the greater

space[33] they then occupy, a dog would necessarily have a greater

chance of meeting some of them, though, possibly, his nose might not be

fine enough to detect them.

213. Now, my idea is, that "Grouse's" exquisite sense of smell made her

often imagine the possible vicinity of game from the very faintest

indications,--that her sagacity led her not to abandon hastily such

tokens, however feeble, but rather to seek patiently for a confirmation

or disproval of her surmises,--that these fancies of hers often ending

in disappointment, her manner did not exhibit any excitement that could

have induced a spectator to guess what was passing in her mind,--that

he, therefore, noticed nothing unusual until after the removal of her

hesitation and doubts, when he observed her walking calmly direct up

to her birds,--and that he thus was led to regard as an unexplained

faculty what really ought to have been considered as simply an evidence

of extreme sensitiveness of nose combined with marvellous caution,--a

caution it is the great aim of good breaking to inculcate. If I am

right in my theory, extraordinary "finder" as "Grouse" was, she would

have been yet more successful had she been taught to range properly.

[Illustration:

"Stiff by the tainted gale with open nose, Outstretched and finely

sensible."--THOMSON'S SEASONS.

Par. 210.]

214. It is heedlessness,--the exact opposite of this extreme

caution,--that makes young dogs so often disregard and overrun a slight

scent; and since they are more inclined to commit this error from

the rivalry of companionship, an additional argument is presented in

favour of breaking them separately, and giving them their own time,

quietly and methodically, to work out a scent, _provided the nose be

carried high_. I am satisfied most of us hurry young dogs too much.

Observe the result of patience and care, as exhibited in the person of

the old Dropper, noticed in 228.

[Illustration:

A DOG-FISH.--Par. 218.]

215. But, doubtless, there are mysterious influences and instincts of

which the wisest of us know but little.

[Page Header: HON. F. C----H'S RETRIEVER.]

216. An old brother officer of mine, the Hon. F. C----h, has a very

handsome black retriever that possesses the extraordinary gift of being

able to run direct to any game, or even glove, you may leave behind

you, however tortuous may be your subsequent path. C----h told me that

he has, in the presence of keepers, frequently dropped a rabbit within

sight of the dog, and then walked in a circle, or rather semicircle,

to the other side of a low hill--a distance, possibly, of nearly a

mile--before he desired the dog to fetch it; yet, on receiving the

order, the animal invariably set off in an undeviating line straight

to the rabbit, unless his attention had been drawn away by playing

with other dogs--a license C----h sometimes designedly allowed. The

retriever would then shuffle about a little before he went off, but

when he started it would be in as direct a line to the object as usual.

217. No one could explain by what sense or faculty he performed this

feat. It appears not to have been by the aid of his olfactory powers,

for C----h (who is a keen sportsman, and capital shot, by-the-bye)

would often purposely manage that the dog, when he was desired to

"fetch" the object, should be immediately to windward of it; and in the

most unfavourable position, therefore, for deriving any advantage from

the exercise of his nasal organs.

218. Capt. G----g, R.N. mentioned to me, that a ship, in which he had

served many years ago in the Mediterranean, seldom entered a port that

the large Newfoundland belonging to her did not jump overboard the

instant the anchor was dropped, swim ashore, and return, after an hour

or two's lark, direct to his own ship, though she might be riding in a

crowd of vessels. He would then bark, anxiously, until the bight of a

rope was hove to him. Into this he would contrive to get his fore-legs,

and, on his seizing it firmly with his teeth, the sailors, who were

much attached to him, would hoist him on board.

219. Mr. W----b, of S----a, had a young Newfoundland that from very

puppyhood took fearlessly to water, but acquired as he grew up such

wandering propensities on land, that his master determined to part with

him, and accordingly made him a present to his friend Lieut. P----d,

R.N. then in command of H.M. Cutter "Cameleon." "Triton," however,

was so attached to his old roving habits, that whenever the cutter

went into port he would invariably swim ashore of his own accord, and

remain away for several days, always managing, however, to return on

board before the anchor was weighed. Such, too, was his intelligence

that he never seemed puzzled how to pick out his own vessel from amidst

forty or fifty others. Indeed, Lieut. P----d, (he lately commanded

the "Vulcan,") to whom the question, at my request, was expressly

put, believes, (and he has courteously permitted me to quote his name

and words,) that, on one occasion, "Triton" contrived to find his own

vessel from among nearly a hundred that were riding at anchor in Poole

harbour. The dog's being ever so well acquainted with the interior of

the craft does not explain why he should be familiar with her external

appearance. Did he judge most by the hull or the rigging?

220. The Duke of N----k so much admired the magnificent style in which

"Triton" would spring into the strongest sea, that Lieut. P----d gave

the fine animal to his Grace, who, for all I know to the contrary,

still possesses him.

[Page Header: INSTINCT.]

221. Who can account for the mode in which a dog or cat, carried a

long journey from home, in a covered basket, instinctively, finds

its way back?--yet, numerous are the well authenticated instances of

such occurrences.[34] But, enough of this,--fortunately I have not

undertaken to attempt an elucidation of any of Nature's many mysteries,

but simply to show how some of the faculties she has bestowed upon the

canine race may easily be made conducive to our amusements.

CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST LESSON IN SEPTEMBER CONTINUED. CUNNING OF AGE.--RANGE OF FROM TWO

TO SIX DOGS.

222. Your dog not to "break fence;" how taught; birds often sprung

while you are scrambling over hedge.--223. Turning one's back upon a

dog to bring him away; stooping down, &c. to make him hunt close.--224.

Dog, when fatigued, not to be hunted; leads to false points.--225.

Sent home, brushed, and allowed a warm berth; not to follow all

day at "heel."--226. Instance of longevity and vigour; flapper

shooting.--227. Value of good old dogs.--228. Exemplified in an old

dropper on the moors.--229. Young dogs get thrown out; cunning of old

birds exemplified in a Grouse.--230. Annual "fall" of underwood in

Kent.--231. Mr. K----g, good fisherman; in Note, anecdote of voracity

of pike. Wheatley's "Rod and Line."--232. Extraordinary chase after

a wounded pheasant.--233. Singular appearance of the pheasant on

its capture.--234. Description of the Spaniel "Dash."--235. Evil of

"fetching," not having been taught in youth exemplified.--236. Another

instance of the cunning of an old Pheasant. In Note, how to choose

and tell age of Pheasants.--237. The last Duke of Gordon; his black

setters; his shooting over _old_ dogs.--238 to 240.--Beat of two dogs;

how regulated.--241. Whatever number be hunted, all should look to the

gun for orders; Mr. Herbert's opinion in his "Field Sports in United

States."--242, 243. Beat of three dogs.--244. Of four dogs.--245 to

247. Of five or six dogs.--248. Great precision impracticable, but the

necessity of a system maintained; System particularly essential where

game is scarce; dogs to be brigaded not employed as a pack.--249.

When each keeper hunts a brace.--250. Major B----d's highly broken

pointers.--251, 252. His making six alternately "road;" their running

riot when ordered.--253. Not a good shot, which shows excellence

in shooting not to be essential in a breaker.--254. A brigade of

fine rangers worth from fifty to sixty guineas a brace.--255. Bad

rangers afford some sport where game is plentiful; Captain R----s'

dogs on Quail.--256. Fastest walkers do not necessarily beat most

country.--257. Nor do always the fastest dogs.--258. How slow dogs may

hunt more ground than faster.

[Page Header: "BREAKING FENCE."]

222. Of course, you will not let your pupil "break fence," or get out

of your sight. If he be a small, active pointer or setter he may be out

of sight before you are aware of it. Be on the watch to whistle or call

out "Fence," the instant you perceive that he is thinking of quitting

the field. Do not wait until he is over; check him by anticipating his

intentions. Should he, unperceived, or in defiance of your orders,

get into a field before you, call him back (by the same opening, if

practicable, through which he passed, the more clearly to show him

his folly); and do not proceed further until he has obeyed you. A

steady adherence to this rule will soon convince him of the inutility

of not exercising more patience, or at least forbearance; then signal

to him "away" in the direction _you_ choose, not in the direction

_he_ chooses. It is essential that you should be the first over every

fence. In the scramble, birds, at which you ought to have a shot,

are frequently sprung. If he is not obedient to your orders make him

"drop," and rate him as described in 188.

223. A dog from his own observation so much feels,--and in a greater or

less degree, according to his education,--the necessity of watching in

what direction you are walking, that if he is habituated to work under

your eye,--I mean, is never allowed to hunt behind you,--by turning

your back upon him when he is paying no attention to your signals, you

will often be able to bring him away from a spot where he is ranging

(perhaps down wind) against your wishes, at a time when you are afraid

to whistle, lest you should alarm the birds. Waving your hand backwards

and forwards near the ground, and stooping low while walking slowly

about, as if in search of something, will often attract the attention

of an ill-taught self-willed dog; and his anxiety to participate in the

find, and share the sport which he imagines you expect, will frequently

induce him to run up, and hunt alongside of you for any close lying

bird.

[Illustration: "Small, active Pointer."--Par. 222.]

[Page Header: TIRED DOGS.]

224. Never be induced to hunt your young dog, (nor indeed, any dog),

when he is tired. If you do, you will give him a slovenly carriage and

habits, and lessen his zeal for the sport. In order to come in for a

sniff, at a time when he is too fatigued to search for it himself,

he will crawl after his companion, watching for any indication of his

finding. As they become wearied you will have a difficulty in keeping

your old well broken dogs separate--much more young ones, however

independently they may have ranged when fresh. You may also, to a

certainty, expect false points; but what is of far more consequence, by

frequently overtasking your young dog, you will as effectually waste

his constitution as you would your horse's by premature work.

225. If he is very young when first entered, two or three hours' work

at a time will be sufficient. When he is tired, or rather before he

is tired, send him home with the man who brings you a relief. Do not

fancy your dog will be getting a rest if he be allowed to follow at

your heels for the remainder of the day, coupled to a companion. His

fretting at not being allowed to share in the sport he sees, will take

nearly as much out of him as if you permitted him to hunt. If you can

persuade John always to rub him down, and brush and dry him--nay even

to let him enjoy an hour's basking in front of the fire--before he

shuts him up in the kennel, you will add years to his existence; and

remember that one old experienced dog, whose constitution is uninjured,

is worth two young ones.

[Page Header: VIGOUR IN OLD AGE.]

226. A gentleman in Eyrecourt, County Galway, gave me, as a valuable

present, a black setter thirteen years of age. And most valuable was

the setter to my friend, who had carefully reared him from a puppy,

and had him well under command; but with me he was so _wild_,--I make

use of the term most advisedly,--that he did me more harm than good

the only season I shot over him. He was stolen from me, and his teeth

were so sound, and he bore so little the appearance of age, that I

have no doubt he was sold as a tolerably young dog. He was the best

specimen I ever saw of the vigour that may be retained for old age by

judicious treatment in youth. The excellence of his constitution was

the more remarkable, from the fact of his having always been extremely

fond of the water. Few dogs could equal him for flapper shooting, that

vilest of sports, if followed before the unfortunate birds get strong

on the wing--as unprofitable, too, for the table, as unsatisfactory to

the real sportsman. Sir J----s M----e, of Perthshire, told me that he

had shot grouse over an Oxfordshire pointer bitch (the best he ever

possessed and the founder of his kennel-stock) until she was eighteen

years of age, when she could do no more than crawl up the side of a

hill, occasionally, to gain time, making false points. Once, however,

on the top, she would work merrily downwards,--no false points then.

227. But canine veterans, of however invalided a constitution, if

they have been really first-rate in their youth, are not always to be

despised. Occasionally you may come across one who will, from his past

experience and superior nose, prove a more valuable auxiliary in the

field, than many a campaigner of greater activity and vigour.

228. Many years ago I went from the south of England for some

grouse-shooting in Scotland. When arranging with my companion (Captain

S----s, a connexion of the kind-hearted old warrior, whose crowning

victory was Goojerat,) what dogs should accompany us, he remarked, that

it would be useless to take his old Dropper (one far more resembling

a pointer than a setter), as he was too aged to undergo any work. I

observed, that he could do us no harm if he did us no good; and, as he

had been an admirable animal, I advised his being taken. Off he went

to the North; and frequently did we afterwards congratulate ourselves

upon this decision, for the old fellow, apparently grateful for the

compliment seemed to feel that he ought to make us some return, and

that the less ground he could traverse with his legs the more he was

bound to traverse with his nose. The result was, that while he was

slowly pottering about, (the season being unusually hot and dry, there

was but little scent) he was constantly finding us birds which his

more flashy companions had passed over; and before we left Scotland we

agreed that none of our dogs had procured us so many shots as the slow,

careful old gentleman.

229. Old birds become very cunning; they are quite sensible of the

danger they incur by rising, and to escape from the dog, and puzzle

him, have as many wiles and twists as a hunted hare. It may be that as

old age advances, their decreasing bodily powers warn them to add to

their security by the exercise of their wits. It is often remarked,

that if ever we kill any of their natural enemies, whether winged or

four-footed, we are sure to find them in fair condition. This condition

makes it obvious, that they must have gained with years the experience

which enables them to obtain a good livelihood by craft, at a time

of life when their failing strength would prevent their procuring a

single meal by a direct pursuit.[35] If then we argue from analogy, we

shall think it almost impossible for any unpractised dog, however

highly-bred, to procure us so many shots as one who has been hunted

for several seasons. And such is really the case. A young dog will

not keep to the trail of an old bird for more than about forty yards;

after that he will give it up altogether, or rush in. It is when he is

"roading" one of these knowing aged patriarchs, that you become aware

of the great value of experience in a dog. You may have seen a young

one bewildered in the devious intricacies of the broken hags, sought

as a refuge by an old cock-grouse, and have probably imagined that the

youngster had only been following a recent haunt, and that the game was

gone. Not so, the dog was right at first. He "footed" it out admirably

until he came to the dark bush, which you must have wondered to see

growing in such a situation; there the sly bird doubled, then turned

short to the right for nearly a hundred yards before it resumed its

course down wind. A dog more up to his work would have again hit off

the scent, and an old stager, probably, never have lost it.

[Page Header: "FALLS" OF UNDERWOOD.]

230. In order to be generally understood, I will preface the following

anecdote by mentioning that in the large Kentish woods, where the

annual falls of underwood take place to the extent of forty or fifty

acres, it is usual to drain the land by digging water-courses, or

as they are commonly called, Grips. The first year's growth of the

underwood is called yearling Fall (or Spring); the second, two-year old

Fall (or Spring); and so on.

231. Mr. K----g, a good sportsman, and so successful an angler,[36]

that he is familiarly called by his friends "the King-fisher," to

distinguish him from others who bear his name, was pheasant shooting

in the winter of 1848-9, in two-year old springs, where, with all

acknowledged partiality for Kent, it must be admitted that birds are

not so plentiful as in certain preserves in Norfolk, though probably

foxes are fully as numerous. It has been remarked, by-the-bye, that

where foxes abound, old pheasants are very cunning; doubtless from

having been often put to their shifts to escape from their wily

adversaries.

[Illustration: "Short-legged, strong-loined, Sussex Spaniel."--Par.

236.]

[Page Header: EXTRAORDINARY CHASE.]

232. K----g sprung a splendid cock-pheasant, which, although a long

way off, he shot at and dropped. Judging from the manner in which it

fell that it was a runner, and well knowing the racing propensities of

the old cocks, he hastened to the spot where it tumbled, and, giving

his gun to the marker, prepared for a sharp burst, though he little

expected the extraordinary chase that was to follow. He found, as he

had anticipated, some breast feathers, but no bird. After fruitlessly

trying in every direction, for nearly a quarter of an hour, to put

"Dash" on the scent, K----g's eyes rested on one of the grips just

spoken of: it ran close to where the bird had fallen, and the thought

struck him that possibly the cunning creature might have taken refuge

in it, and thus have thrown out the spaniel. K----g got into it, and

though finding fully six inches of water, he persevered in following

it. It brought him to a high wood about one hundred yards off, and

towards which the pheasant had been flying when shot at, but "Dash"

could not obtain the least scent of the bird. As a last resource,

K----g then returned to the spot where he had left the marker with

his gun, being determined to try the grip in the opposite direction,

notwithstanding its leading exactly contrary to the point for which

the bird had been making. He did so, and by calling energetically to

"Dash," he endeavoured to make the dog believe that at length the bird

was in view. The plan succeeded. "Dash," who had become slack from

disappointment, hunted with renewed animation, and, after pursuing the

grip for some time, took the scent full cry across the springs until

he came to an old waggon-road, along which he went at speed. Feeling

assured that all was now right, K----g gladly moderated his pace, for

he was much out of breath. When at length he overtook "Dash," instead

of seeing him in possession of the bird, he only found him completely

at fault, trying up and down the well-indented wheel-ruts. On the

other side of the road there was another grip. Into it K----g jumped,

followed the plan he had before adopted, and with like success; for

on running up the grip for about sixty yards, the spaniel again hit

off the scent, and after taking it away at a right angle (so far that

K----g could only now and then catch a faint tingle of the bell),

brought it back to the same grip, but some 200 yards higher, where he

suddenly "threw up." For the fourth time in went K----g. "Dash" now

seemed thoroughly to understand matters, and kept trying both sides

of the grip for the scent. At length he found it, and went full cry

across a yearling fall, which was everywhere very bare, except here and

there an occasional patch of high strong grass. At one of these K----g

found him again at fault. The dog seemed quite done; but still it was

evident, from his excited manner, that he thought the pheasant was

not far distant. After a time he began scratching at the long grass.

K----g went up, and, on putting the stalks aside, fancied he perceived

the end of some tail feathers. He thrust in his arm, and ultimately

succeeded in dragging forth the well-hunted bird, quite alive, out of

the deep wheel-track in which it had buried itself. The coarse grass

had grown so closely over the rut, that the bird had been able to creep

in for three or four yards.

233. A more miserable appearance than the poor creature presented,

cannot easily be conceived. Its feathers were so completely sopped, and

stuck so close to its body, that it looked a mere skeleton; and yet it

was a noble bird, measuring three feet and an inch from the tip of its

bill to the extremity of its tail, and weighed 3 lbs. 6 oz.

234. As "Dash" plays so conspicuous a part in the foregoing history, it

appears right that a few words should be given to describe him. He is a

low, strong-limbed, broad-backed nearly thorough-bred Sussex spaniel,

with an extremely intelligent-looking head, but a sadly mean stern. His

colour is black. K----g generally hunts him with a bell, especially

where the underwood is thick. If he is sharply called to when he is

on game he will slacken his pace, look round for his master, and not

"road" keenly until the gun approaches him; he will then rush in with

a bark to flush, though at other times hunting mute. The intelligent

animal seems, however, perfectly to know when the cover is too high

or strong for K----g to follow, for he then invariably runs full cry

from first touching on a scent. He never deceives the sportsman, for he

never gives one of his eloquent looks unless he is certain of being on

game; and his nose is so good, and he hunts so true, that he invariably

"pushes" his pheasant, however much it may turn or double.

235. He is also undeniable at "seeking dead," but unluckily was not

taught as a youngster to fetch. Much time is, therefore, often lost in

finding him after he has been sent for a winged bird; but when he is at

length discovered it is sure to be with him.

[Page Header: SAGACITY OF A PHEASANT.]

236. I was told of a farmer in Kent--one of her fine yeomen, of whom

England has such cause to feel proud, (pity that in some other counties

the class is not as distinctly preserved!)--who was shooting with

an old short-legged, strong-loined, Sussex spaniel. The dog, after

"roading" a pheasant along many a tortuous path, led the farmer to the

edge of a shallow brook, up the middle of which, far away to his right,

he was lucky enough to see the animal running, obviously with the

design of throwing out the dog. A light pair of heels soon brought the

sportsman within shot, and enabled him to bag the heaviest and richest

feathered bird he had ever seen. The sharp long spurs[37] showed it to

be at least five years of age, and its sagacity would probably have

borne it triumphantly through another campaign or two, had not the

farmer's quick eye detected its adroit manoeuvre,--one that forcibly

calls to mind Cooper's descriptions of the stratagems employed by the

North American Indians to baffle pursuit by leaving no indication of

their trail.

[Page Header: AGE IN DOGS ADVANTAGEOUS.]

237. Must there not be experience on the part of dogs to contend

successfully with such wiliness as this? So much was the last Duke of

Gordon convinced of its necessity,--and he is well known to have been a

capital sportsman, and to have paid great attention to his fine breed

of black setters,--that he would never allow one of them to accompany

him to the moors that had not been shot over five or six seasons--and

"small blame" to his Grace "for that same," as he had a choice from

all ages. But it must be acknowledged, that however excellent[38] in

many respects,--and when in the hands of the breaker their indomitable

energies would cause the bunch of heather, fastened to the end of their

checkcords, to dance merrily over the mountains from morning until

night-fall,--most of them were a wild set in their youth, and required

constant work to keep them in order. Every experienced sportsman in the

Highlands is aware that young dogs will romp (for it cannot be termed

hunting), with their noses here, there, and everywhere, obtaining but

few points over ground on which knowing old dogs will immediately

afterwards keep the gun-barrels at an exhilarating temperature.

238. When you hunt a brace of dogs, to speak theoretically, they should

traverse a field in opposite directions, but along parallel lines, and

the distance between the lines should be regulated by you according as

it is a good or a bad scenting day, and according to the excellence

of the dogs' noses. Mathematical accuracy is, of course, never to be

attained, but the closer you approach to it the better.

[Illustration: "Duke of Gordon's fine breed of Black Setters."--Par.

237.]

[Page Header: BEAT OF TWO DOGS.]

239. You should attempt it (on entering the field to _leeward_, as

before directed) by making one dog go straight ahead of you to the

distance which you wish the parallel lines to be apart from each other,

before you cast him off (say) to the right; then cast off his companion

to the left. If the dogs are nearly equal in pace, the one ahead, so

long as he does not fancy he winds game, should continue to work on a

parallel more advanced than the other.

240. Should you not like to relinquish, for the sake of this formal

precision, the chance of a find in the neglected right-hand corner of

the field, cast off one dog to the right, the other to the left on

entering it, and make the one that soonest approaches his hedge take

the widest sweep (turn), and so be placed in the _advanced_ parallel.

241. With regard to hunting more than a brace--when your difficulties

wonderfully multiply--your own judgment must determine in what manner

to direct their travelling powers to the greatest advantage. Much will

depend upon the different speed of the dogs; the number you choose,

from whim or otherwise, to hunt; the kind of country you beat; and the

quantity and sort of game you expect to find. It is, however, certain

you must wish that each dog be observant of the direction in which

your face is turned, in order that he may guide his own movements by

yours;--that he from time to time look towards you to see if you have

any commands;--and that he be ever anxious to obey them.

Herbert writes as follows, in his work on shooting in the United

States:[39] his words ought to have influence, for manifestly he

is a good sportsman; but I own I cannot quite agree with him as to

the _facility_ with which a range can be taught: "It is wonderful

how easily dogs which are always shot over by the same man--he being

one who knows his business--will learn to cross and re-quarter their

ground, turning to the slightest whistle, and following the least

gesture of the hand. I have seen old dogs turn their heads to catch

their master's eye, if they thought the whistle too long deferred; and

I lately lost an old Irish setter, which had been stone deaf for his

last two seasons, but which I found no more difficulty in turning than

any other dog, so accurately did he know when to look for the signal."

[Page Header: BEAT OF THREE DOGS.]

242. To beat your ground _systematically_ with three dogs you should

strive to make them cross and re-cross you, each on a different

parallel, as just described for two dogs; but each dog must make a

proportionately bolder sweep (turn); or,

243. If you have plenty of space, you can make one dog take a distinct

beat to the right, another a separate beat to the left, and direct

the third (which ought to be the dog least confirmed in his range) to

traverse the central part,--and so be the only one that shall cross

and re-cross you. If one of your dogs is a slow potterer, and you

prefer this method to the one named in 242, give him the middle beat,

and let his faster companions take the flanks. In our small English

fields you have not space enough, but on our moors, and in many parts

of the Continent, it cannot be want of room that will prevent your

accomplishing it. To do this well, however, and not interfere with

each other's ground, how magnificently must your dogs be broken! In

directing their movements, the assistance that would be given you by

each dog's acknowledging his own particular whistle, and no other

(505), is very apparent.

[Page Header: BEAT OF FOUR OR FIVE DOGS.]

244. It is difficult enough to make three dogs traverse across you

on tolerably distinct parallels, and at a judicious distance between

the parallels; you will find it hopeless to attempt it with more

than three; and one can hardly imagine a case in which it would be

advantageous to uncouple a greater number of good rangers. If,

however, the scarcity of game, and the extensiveness of your beat, or

any peculiar fancy, induce you habitually to use four dogs, hunt one

brace to the right, the other to the left; and, so far as you can,

let those which _form a brace be of equal speed_.[40] Your task will

be facilitated by your always keeping the same brace to one flank,--I

mean, by making one brace constantly hunt to your right hand; the

other brace to your left. The same reasoning holds with regard to

assigning to each dog a particular side when hunting three, according

to the mode described in last paragraph. It should, however, be borne

in mind, that constantly hunting a dog in this manner on one and the

same flank, tends to make him range very disagreeably whenever employed

single-handed.

245. If you hunt five dogs, four of them ought to work by braces to the

right and left, and the fifth (the dog whose rate of speed most varies

from the others) should have a narrow beat assigned him directly in

advance of you.

246. If three brace are to be used, let the third brace hunt the

central ground, as recommended for the fifth dog,--or they could be

worked in leashes, one on the right of the gun, the other on the left.

247. These are the correct _theoretical_ rules, and the more closely

you observe them, the more truly and killingly will your ground be

hunted.

[Page Header: BRIGADES,--NOT PACKS.]

248. Probably you will think that such niceties are utterly

impracticable. They must be impracticable, if you look for mathematical

precision; but if you are determined to hunt many dogs and hope to

shoot over more than a mere rabble, you should work upon _system_. If

you do not, what can you expect but an unorganized mob?--an undrilled

set, perpetually running over each other's ground,--now scampering

in this part, now crowded in that,--a few likely spots being hunted

by all (especially if they are old dogs), the rest of the field by

none of them; and to control whose unprofitable wanderings, why not

employ a regular huntsman and a well-mounted whip? Doubtless it would

be absurd to hope for perfect accuracy in so difficult a matter as

a systematic range in a brigade of dogs; but that you may approach

correctness, take a true standard of excellence. If you do not keep

perfection in view, you will never attain to more than mediocrity. I

earnestly hope, however, that it cannot be your wish to take out a

host of dogs,--but should you have such a singular hobby, pray let

them be regularly brigaded, and not employed as a pack. In my opinion,

under no circumstances can more than relays of leashes be desirable;

but I should be sorry in such matters to dispute any man's right to

please himself; I only wish him, whatever he does, to strive to do it

correctly.

249. Some men who shoot on a grand scale make their keepers hunt each

a distinct brace of dogs,--the gun going up to whatever dog points. It

is the most killing plan to adopt; but that is not the matter we were

considering. The question was, what method a man ought to pursue who

had a fancy to himself hunt many dogs at a time.

[Page Header: MAJOR B----D'S BRIGADE.]

250. The late Major B----d, of B----d, in Lancashire, had this fancy.

The moors over which he shot were by no means well-stocked with game;

but the wonderful control he obtained over his pointers showed, in the

strongest manner, the high grade of education that can be imparted to

dogs by gentle and judicious treatment.

251. He was accustomed to hunt three brace at a time. Each dog when he

was ranging would take up his separate ground, without interfering

with that of his companions. The Major's raising his arm was the signal

for all to drop.

252. If one of the dogs was pointing, the Major would go up perhaps to

the dog furthest off, and make him approach the dog that was standing;

and in October (when grouse run much) he has thus brought all six dogs

in a line, one following the other, and made each in succession take

the lead, and "foot" the birds for a short distance. The same dogs, on

the same day, at a given signal, would run riot; scamper over the moor;

chase hares, sheep, or anything they came across; and at the well-known

signal again would drop, and, as if by magic, resume their perfect

obedience.

253. Major B----d was quite one of the old school; used flint and

steel; and looked with ineffable contempt at the detonators of the

youngsters. He was not remarkable for being a good shot, capital

sportsman as he undoubtedly was in the highest sense of the word,

showing the truth of what was said in the fifth paragraph, that

excellence in shooting, though of course advantageous, is not a

necessary qualification in a breaker.

254. If a professional breaker could show you a brigade of dogs well

trained to quarter their ground systematically, and should ask from

fifty to sixty guineas[41] a brace for them, you ought not to be

surprised. What an extent of country they could sweep over in an hour

and not leave a bird behind! And consider what time and labour must

have been spent in inculcating so noble a range. He would have been

far better paid, if he had received less than half the money as soon

as they "pointed steadily," both at the living and the dead; "down

charged;" "backed;" and were broken from "chasing hare," or noticing

rabbits.

255. The great advantage of fine rangers is not much considered where

game is abundant. A friend of mine, a capital shot (though far inferior

to his namesake, Captain R----s of sporting celebrity), with whom I

have enjoyed some pleasant quail shooting in America, used constantly

to hunt a leash of pointers, "Jem," "Beau," and "Fag,"--the last a

regular misnomer, for the dog was incorrigibly idle. It was curious to

watch how pertinaciously, like sheep, they herded together,--seldom did

one wind a bird that would not have been found a few seconds afterwards

by the others. R----s, long before I knew him, had relinquished all

attempts at making them beat separately--indeed, I am not positive

that he was fully sensible of its utility. As they all "backed"

promptly--instantly "down charged," and had not a shade of jealousy,

they did little harm; and sometimes on a broiling day "Beau," who

generally took the lead, was not the first to come on a dead bird.

Where game is plentiful, as bad rangers as the trio belonging to my

old friend, will afford you sport; but it is certain that they will

pass by many birds, unless you undergo the fatigue of walking over

most of the ground yourself, and it is clear if you do, that you will

not be able to hunt half as many acres in a day, as you could if you

kept to your general central direction while the dogs hunted according

to rule. Few Frenchmen agree with us respecting a fine range. They

make their pointers and setters hunt almost as close as spaniels.

They prefer bitches to dogs, saying that they are more affectionate

("plus fidèles"), and therefore range nearer. In England, in old days,

when our dogs were far heavier and slower than they are now, and, in

consequence, could not run over so much ground, they were taught to

traverse little more than from thirty to sixty yards on each side of

the gun.

[Page Header: FAST WALKING NOT MOST HUNTING.]

256. Some men fancy that the faster they walk, the more country they

hunt. This is far from being always the case. Dogs travel at one rate,

whether you walk fast or slow, and the distance between the parallels

on which they work, (being determined by the fineness of their noses,

and the goodness of the scent,) ought not to be affected by your pace.

Suppose, therefore, that you shoot in an unenclosed country, whether

you walk quickly, or merely crawl along, the only difference in the

beat of your dogs _ought_ to be that, in the latter case, they range

further to the right and left. You thus make up in your _breadth_ what

you lose in your _length_ of beat.

[Page Header: FINER NOSE BEATS QUICKER HEELS.]

257. Nor do the fastest dogs, however well they may be broken, always

truly hunt the most ground. The slower dogs have frequently finer

olfactory nerves than their fleeter rivals,--therefore the parallels

on which the former work, may correctly be much wider apart than the

parallels of the latter. The finer nose in this manner commands so much

more ground, that it beats the quicker heels out and out.

258. You will see, then, how judicious it is to show forbearance and

give encouragement to the timid, but high-bred class[42] of dogs

described in 116; for it is obvious that, though they may travel

slower, yet they may really hunt _properly_, within a specified time,

many more acres of ground than their hardier and faster competitors:

and it is certain that they will not so much alarm the birds. Dogs that

are most active with their heels are generally least busy with their

noses.

CHAPTER IX.

FIRST LESSON IN SEPTEMBER CONTINUED. "POINT" NOT RELINQUISHED FOR "DOWN

CHARGE."

259. Affection makes Dog anxious to please--when he rushes in to be

dragged back.--260. Rule pressed.--261. Reason for Rule--Experience

anticipated.--262. To "stand" far off--Pointer procuring shots at black

game, but raising Grouse.--263. Patience enjoined--Not to part as

enemies.--264. The first good point--Remain yourself stationary.--265.

"Heading" Dog--Your circle to be wide. The first bird killed.--266.

Finding dead bird, it being to Leeward.--267. Pointing it--Blinking

it--The cause.--268. Woodcock lost from Dog not "pointing dead."--269.

Bird killed, the Dog to go to "heel."--270. Supposed objection.--271.

Answered.--272. Temptation to run after fallen bird greater than to

run to "heel."--273. Dog pointing one bird, and after "down charge"

springing the others. The cause.--274. The preventive. Dog never to

discontinue his point in order to "down charge." How taught.--275. Its

advantages exemplified.--276. Decide whether Dog goes direct to bird,

or first to you.--277. Dog which performed well. Snipe-shooting on

banks of Richlieu.--278. Coolness recommended. Inconsistency deprecated.

259. To proceed, however, with our imaginary September day's work.

I will suppose that your young dog has got upon birds, and that

from his boldness and keenness in hunting you need not let him run

riot on a haunt, as you were recommended (in 132), when you wished

to give courage and animation to a timid dog. You must expect that

his eagerness and delight will make him run in and flush them, even

though you should have called out "Toho" when first you perceived his

stern begin feathering, and thence judged that his olfactory nerves

were rejoicing in the luxurious taint of game. Hollo out "Drop" most

energetically. If he does not immediately lie down, crack your whip

loudly to command greater attention. When you have succeeded in making

him lie down, approach him quietly: be not angry with him, but yet

be stern in manner. Grasping the skin of his neck, or what is better,

putting your hand within his collar (for he ought to wear a light one),

quietly drag him to the precise spot where you think he was _first_

aware of the scent of the birds. There make him stand, (if stand he

will, instead of timidly crouching), with his head directed towards the

place from which the birds took wing, and by frequently repeating the

word "Toho," endeavour to make him understand that he ought to have

pointed at that identical spot. Do not confuse him by even threatening

to beat him. The chances are twenty to one that he is anxious to

please you, but does not yet know what you wish. I assume also that

he is attached to you, and his affection, from constantly inducing

him to exert himself to give satisfaction, will greatly develop his

observation and intelligence.

[Page Header: FIRST FIND.]

260. Consider it a golden rule never to be departed from (for I must

again impress upon you a matter of such importance), invariably to

drag a dog who has put up birds incautiously, or wilfully drawn too

near them, and so sprung them (or, what is quite as bad,--though young

sportsmen will not sufficiently think of it,--_endangered_ their rising

out of shot), to the exact spot at which you judge he ought to have

pointed at first, and awaited your instructions.

[Page Header: POINT TOO NEAR GAME.]

261. Think for one moment what could be the use of chiding (or beating,

as I have seen some * * * * * do) the poor animal at the spot where he

flushed the birds. You are not displeased with him (or ought not to

be) because the birds took wing,--for if they had remained stationary

until he was within a yard of them, his fault would have been the

same: nor are you angry with him because he did not catch them (which

interpretation he might, as naturally as any other, put upon your

rating him at the spot where he flushed them),--you are displeased with

him for _not having pointed_ at them steadily the moment he became

sensible of their presence. This is what you wish him to understand,

and this you can only teach him by dragging him, as has been so often

said, to the spot at which he ought to have "toho-ed" them. Your object

is to give the young dog by instruction, the caution that most old

dogs have acquired by experience. Doubtless experience would in time

convince him of the necessity of this caution; but you wish to _save_

time,--to anticipate that experience; and by a judicious education

impart to him knowledge which it would take him years to acquire

otherwise. What a dog gains by experience is not what you teach him,

but what he teaches himself.

262. Many carelessly-taught dogs will on first recognising a scent

make a momentary point, and then slowly crawl on until they get within

a few yards of the game,--if it be sufficiently complaisant to allow

of such a near approach,--and there "set" as steady as a rock by the

hour together. Supposing, however, that the birds are in an unfriendly

distant mood, and not willing to remain on these neighbourly terms,

"your game is up," both literally and metaphorically,--you have no

chance of getting a shot. This is a common fault among dogs hastily

broken in the spring.

I speak feelingly on the subject from a still unpleasant recollection

of my extreme vexation on a certain 20th of August,[43] when shooting

over a young pointer bitch of excellent natural capabilities, but who

had been injudiciously allowed, during her tuition in the spring, to

stand too close to her birds. She was a quick ranger,--carried a high

diligent nose,--had much endurance, and procured me several shots at

young black game, but not one, if I remember right, at grouse. I was

always aware when she first found, for her attitudes were fine and

marked, but, in defiance of all my signals, and occasional calls,

she would persist in creeping nearer, a proximity the grouse would

not endure. As a violent jerk would not have been necessary, often

did I wish that day, whenever she approached a likely spot, that it

was in my power to attach to her collar a stiff thin checkcord about

100 yards long,[44]--such a one as would have been handed to me at a

fishing-tackle shop on my asking for a strong hemp salmon line,--the

kind used in former days after being soaked for weeks in oil,--now,

however, considered heavy and unmanageable. A mild spiked collar

applied as described in 302 to 304, would, I think, have noiselessly

reclaimed her, without injuring my shooting.

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263. But to resume our supposed lesson. You must not be in a

hurry--keep your dog for some time--for a long time, where he should

have pointed. You may even sit down alongside him. Be patient; you have

not come out so much to shoot, as to break in your dog. When at length

you give him the wave of the hand to hie him on to hunt, you must not

part as enemies, though I do not say he is to be caressed. He has

committed a fault, and he is to be made sensible of it by your altered

manner.

264. Suppose that, after two or three such errors, all treated in

the way described, he makes a satisfactory point. Hold up your right

hand, and the moment you catch his eye, remain quite stationary, still

keeping your arm up. Dogs, as has been already observed, are very

imitative; and your standing stock-still will, more than anything else,

induce him to be patient and immovable at his point. After a time (say

five minutes if, from the hour of the day and the dog's manner, you

are convinced that the birds are not stirring), endeavour to get up to

him so quietly as not to excite him to move. Whenever you observe him

inclined to advance,--of which his lifting a foot or even raising a

shoulder, or the agitation of his stern will be an indication,--stop

for some seconds, and when by your raised hand you have awed him into

steadiness, again creep on. Make your approaches within his sight,

so that he may be intimidated by your eye and hand. If you succeed

in getting near him without unsettling him, actually stay by him, as

firm as a statue, for a quarter of an hour by one of Barwise's best

chronometers. Let your manner, which he will observe, show great

earnestness. Never mind the loss of time. You are giving the dog a

famous lesson, and the birds are kindly aiding you by lying beautifully

and not shifting their ground.[45]

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265. Now attempt a grand _coup_, in which if you are successful, you

may almost consider your dog made staunch for ever. Keeping your eye

on him, and your hand up (of course the right one), make a circuit,

so that the birds shall be between him and you. Be certain that your

circle is sufficiently wide,--if it is not, the birds may get up behind

you, and so perplex him, that at his next find he will feel doubtful

how to act. Fire at no skirter, or chance shot. Reserve yourself for

the bird or birds at which he points; a caution more necessary on

the moors than on the stubbles, as grouse spread while feeding. When

you have well headed him, walk towards him and spring the birds. Use

straight shooting-powder. Take a cool aim well forward, and knock down

one. Do not flurry the dog by firing more than a single barrel, or

confuse him by killing more than _one_ bird. If you have been able to

accomplish all this without his stirring (though, to effect it, you

may have been obliged to use your voice), you have every right to

hope, from his previous education, that he will readily "down charge"

on hearing the report of your gun. Do not hurry your loading:--indeed,

be unnecessarily long, with the view of making him at all such times

patient and steady. If, in spite of all your calls and signals, he

gives chase to the sprung birds, make him "drop,"--instantly if

possible,--and proceed much as described in 259, dragging him back to

the place where he should have "down charged."

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266. When you have loaded, say, "Dead,"[46] in a low voice, and

signalling to "heel" make him come up to you, yourself keeping still.

By signs (XI. of 141) place him as near as you can, _but to leeward_

of the dead bird. Then, and not till then, say, "Find;" give him no

other assistance. Let him have plenty of time to make out the bird. It

is not to be find and _grip_, but find and _point_,[47] therefore the

moment you perceive he is aware that it is before him, make him (by

word of command) "toho:"--go up to him, stay for a while alongside him,

then make a small circuit to head him, and have the bird between you

and him; approach him. If he attempt to dash in, thunder out "No," and

greet him with at least the sound of the whip: slowly pick up the dead

bird; call the dog to you; show him the bird; but on no account throw

it to him, lest he snatch at it; lay it on the ground, encourage him

to sniff it; let him (for reason why see 313) turn it over with his

nose,--teeth closed,--say to him, "Dead, dead;" caress him; sit down;

smooth the feathers of the bird; let him perceive that you attach much

value to it; and after a while loop it on the game-bag, allowing him

all the time to see what you are doing. After that, make much of him

for full five minutes: indeed with some dogs it would be advisable to

give a palatable reward, but be not invariably very prodigal of these

allurements; you may have a pupil whose attention they might engross

more than they ought. Then walk about a little time with him at your

heels. All this delay and caressing will serve to show him that the

first tragedy is concluded, and has been satisfactorily performed. You

may now hie him on to hunt for more birds.

[Illustration: LARGE HEAVY POINTER.]

Dog Breaking The Most Expeditious, Certain, and Easy Method, Whether Great Excellence or Only Mediocrity Be Required, With Odds and Ends for Those Who Love the Dog and Gun · 第 19 / 24 章

131. As I before observed, you can practise most of the initiatory