394. Years ago, when I was in County Wexford, I knew, by sight, a

capital snipe-shot, though he constantly wore spectacles, who loathed

the idea of letting a dog accompany him. This he would not have done,

had he known to what perfection the animal could be brought. But

certainly our spectacled friend had less occasion for canine assistance

than any man I ever saw. He knew every rushy spot for miles around. If

there was a snipe in a field, he would point to within a few feet where

it was lying. He walked very fast; was indefatigable; without waiting

for loading picked up every bird the moment it was knocked over; kept

relays of ammunition at several farm-houses; and nearly always came

home with his capacious pockets (for he carried no bag) well filled. I

heard an anecdote of him, more in praise of the correctness of his eye

than the make of his leg, that on one occasion, after he had stuffed

his pockets full of snipe, he proceeded actually to cram more birds

into the tops of his boots.

395. An officer whom I knew well in Canada came for a few days to

Isle Aux Noix. He paddled himself and a favourite dog to the opposite

shore. The dog made nineteen separate points at snipe--of which my

friend bagged seventeen,--and he thinks he did not see above three more

birds. He admits that the day was hot,[76] and that in consequence the

snipe lay well; but he certainly would not have obtained so many shots

without the assistance of his intelligent companion. He was, however,

beautifully broken. I do not suppose that my friend had once occasion

to use his voice. And the sagacious animal would creep across wind

as stealthily as a cat on the right hand being slightly raised, as

described in XII. of 141.

396. My friend's sport caused a laugh in the little garrison at the

expense of its Fort Adjutant, by no means a first-rate shot, who

complained that his favourite, though confessedly very small, preserve

was destroyed for the season; and I rather think it was; for my

experience leads me to believe, contrary to what is generally supposed,

that snipe, when once they have had time to settle in a spot, become

attached to it, and do not much shift their ground. At least I have

known many places in which snipe having been killed off early in the

season, none appeared the same season in their stead, although in

preceding years birds had been plentiful during the whole winter.

[Page Header: WOODCOCK-SHOOTING.]

397. Woodcocks also consider themselves permanently established in

localities where they have been long undisturbed (82). Mr. S----t

of C----n, on the west coast of Ireland, was so fully impressed

with this opinion that he would not allow a gun to be fired in his

covers until after Christmas,--asserting that not a bird would then

leave them before the regular period of migration, but merely,

when flushed, remove from one part of the woods to another. It is

hard to think that he reasoned incorrectly, for he had when I was

in his neighbourhood,--and may have to this day for aught I know

to the contrary,--nearly the best, if not undeniably the best,

woodcock-shooting in Ireland until the very end of the season. This,

too, is saying a "big word," for woodcock-shooting in the emerald isle

is the cream of sport.

398. Now our spectacled acquaintance (394), capital sportsman as he

was, owed his numerous shots solely to his great pedestrian powers,

and the large development of his organ of locality. It is sometimes

difficult enough, even with a clever dog, to spring a jack snipe, and

you will not tell me that he (not master "Jack," but the gentleman)

would not have bagged more birds, and have had to walk over less

ground, had he possessed as good an animal as that which helped to

destroy the Fort Adjutant's preserve. And do you think that our friend

with the barnacles, who was in no way of a misanthropical disposition,

would not thus have more enjoyed his day's sport? He might have been

assured that birds, if they would not lie for a good-nosed dog, who

hunted as cautiously as the officer's, would not lie for his walking

them up. And if on a boisterous day he chose to shoot down wind (as

snipe fly against it), why should he not call his companion in to

"heel," and afterwards employ him when re-hunting the same ground

up wind? An _experienced_ old dog, would rarely, however, when beating

down wind, pass by many birds without noticing them.

399. We often hear of sportsmen shooting against each other for

considerable sums in our best partridge-counties, where the game is so

abundant that they consider it most advisable to employ no dog, save

one or two retrievers. I at once admit that they act judiciously in not

hunting any ordinary animal, but I am confident that the competitor

who used such a cautious dog as the officer's (395), would not only

get more shots than his opponent, but be able to kill to a greater

certainty, because better prepared for every rise. The quantity of

game would not have confused that first-rate dog,--his nose was too

discriminating. He would have walked quietly,--almost crept,--up to

every bird, and I will venture to say would not have sprung one out

of shot, that would not have risen as readily had he been left in his

kennel. In the match that came off in October, '50, at Lord L----h's,

R----d Hall, between the Squire O----n and Mr. C----d,--both good

performers--so many birds would not have been missed had the sportsmen

been warned to look out for most of their shots by a careful dog's

drawing upon the birds. Victory would have sided with the party thus

aided.

400. I said (398), "An experienced old dog would rarely, however, even

when beating down wind, pass by many birds without noticing them:"

and most fortunate is it that this is the case, for otherwise you

would seldom get a shot to a point at partridge when the ground is

wet, and the birds have taken to running ahead along furrow--or, as

is frequently the case, are all making off in one direction, probably

seeking the shelter of some well-known friendly cover. Should you think

this likely to happen, you must, without minding what quarter the wind

blows from, commence your beat by traversing the ground that lies

between them and their place of refuge. Even then you will often find

that they will rather face you, than be diverted from their original

design.

401. In large turnip-fields you would do well when birds are wild

to hunt the outer parts first, and so gradually work round and

round towards the centre. Then return to the outer parts, and again

work round the borders. The birds thus finding themselves headed in

every direction are much more likely to lie than if you had not so

manoeuvred. On such occasions the great advantages of caution in dogs,

and of their prompt obedience to the hand are made manifest. I heard

of a man who, in order to make birds lie close in turnips, used to

direct his little boy to trot his pony round and round the field. The

plan was very successful. The birds seemed quite bewildered, especially

when time had been allowed for the boy to complete the circuit before

the dogs were permitted to enter. I remember a good sportsman telling

me that he had more than once succeeded in making wild birds lie by

attaching soft-sounding bells to the collars of his pointers. The novel

sound appeared to arrest the attention of the partridges. This seems

opposed to what is said in 74 about bells used in cover scaring game.

[Page Header: DRIEST GROUND HUNTED.]

402. High winds and rain greatly disturb birds; and if you are a tyro

in partridge-shooting you should thank me for recommending you, if you

are ever so anxious to get a few shots, to wait for the first hour

of sunshine after such weather,[77] and then to hunt the _driest_

grounds, where you probably will find the birds _not feeding_, but

quietly reposing, after the knocking about they have undergone. But,

my _young_ friend, I should like to give you another hint. When it

is late in the season, instead of constantly beating the denuded

stubbles, try the wild uncultivated lands (if there are any in your

neighbourhood) where it is likely the birds will be found searching for

the common grass-seeds which they neglected when more palatable grain

could be easily obtained. Wind without wet sometimes makes wild birds

lie,--probably because they do not hear the sportsman's footsteps.

403. After you have sprung a covey, and succeeded in killing the old

pair, should the scent be bad, give the young birds time to run a

little before you let your dogs hunt for them. Late in the season, in

hot, dry weather, such delay is frequently productive of much good,

for partridges will often at such times not move an inch from the spot

where they first pitched; thereby emitting so little scent that an

ordinary dog will not be able to find them, however accurately you may

have marked the place where they _opened their wings_ preparatory to

dropping.

[Page Header: KILL OLD BIRDS.]

404. If, when first a covey rose, the old pair was knocked over,

the young ones would lie singularly close, awaiting the accustomed,

unspellable, unpronounceable parental call. But there is a yet stronger

reason why the precedence and attention usually given to age should not

in the present instance be withheld. _Old birds, whether breeding or

barren, drive off the younger ones during the breeding season._ Some

sportsmen, I am aware, deem this opinion a vulgar prejudice; but, if

it be well founded, common sense bids us kill the old birds, that the

young ones may have undisturbed possession of their ground. They must

be unusually small squeakers if they cannot shift for themselves early

in September, particularly if the weather be warm. They will come to

no harm, where the keeper has done his duty as a trapper. On estates

infested with vermin, they will, of course, suffer from the absence

of the warning parental cry. There are country gentlemen who go so

far as to have the old birds shot in August (when they can readily be

distinguished even in the most forward coveys), well knowing that a

jealous old pair of partridges will take possession of as much ground

in spring, as would suffice for nearly half-a-dozen young couples;

especially if the latter belong to the same covey, and are therefore

accustomed to associate together; for, contrary to the general laws of

nature, these birds breed in and in.

405. Old hen-pheasants should also be killed off:--they are barren,

and are accused of sucking the eggs of the younger birds. They may be

readily distinguished by their deeper and more brilliant plumage. As a

case in point,--

[Page Header: YORKSHIRE GAMEKEEPER'S ADVICE.]

406. I know of a gentleman going to the North to reside on a small

property, where the game had not been preserved for years. He at

once engaged a clever keeper, who joined him immediately after the

conclusion of the shooting season. In a few days the latter requested

to see his master.

"Well, George, I fear you don't find much game."

The other replied, in broad Yorkshire dialect, "No-o, sir, no--nŏt

mutch. 'A' been thruff (through) t' covers, and seen some auld

budds--and, please, sir, I'd loike to shūt 'em."

The gentleman started. "Shoot them! That's an odd way of preserving

them, unless indeed you intend to stuff them. Are you mad? There may be

only a few birds, but I suppose a few are better than none."

"No-o, sir, no--they beant. A few auld budds is wuss than none."

"How's that? What do you mean?"

"Well, I tell'e, sir--t' auld uns be so stu_p_id--jealous _ver_rē

(very)--t' missis is sŭm_túmes_ (sometimes) ees verrē--I sure

she is. They _fight_ t' young uns, and _can't do_ with strangers

no how. Folks say a barren hen, if she foĭnd (find) a nest,

'ill brak all t' eggs. A don't k_no_w about that; perhaps they

brak 'em i' t' fighting, but they be brukken sure e_nae_f. So ye

see, sir, 'spose we have _no_ budds here, then t' young 'uns,

when t' auld 'uns fight 'em in neighbours' covers, coom in here

to uz--and foĭnd 'emselves quite coomfortuble and _bide_. And

b'sides they'll knōw-thĕy-'ve-nŏ-rīght--thĕy'll

knōw-thĕy-'ve-nŏ-rīght thĕmsēlves, and so _they_

wunt fight t' new comers. There be sŭm gentlemen as shūts doon

one-third of their estate every year, clean right away--and then t'

pheasants and t' partridge coom in like-o-o-o. Quite many of them; yes,

they do like t' settlars in 'Merika, as á' do hear say."

407. This homely reasoning of the honest Yorkshireman[78] prevailed,

and a good show of game the following season satisfactorily established

the soundness of his views.

408. But we have been astray on the stubbles and in cover, instead

of attending to our friend (394, 398) snipe-shooting in the marshes,

and determining (for our own satisfaction, if not for his) whether

the companionship of a good dog would not have greatly added to his

enjoyment. Doubtless it would; for I appeal to you, if you are a

devotee to the double detonator, whether it be not a magnificent thing

to witness brilliant performance in fine dogs--to watch their prompt

obedience--their graceful action--the expression of their intelligent

countenances--to hope at the first feathering at a haunt--to

participate in the nervous start on a closer touch--to share in the

exciting alternation of the cautious "road," and the momentary stop--to

exult in the certainty of a sure find--to hesitate in the expectation

of a sudden rise,--and, finally, to triumph in the fall of the noble

old bird you have been steadily following through all his wiles and

stratagems? If we have travelled over the past pages together, I hope

you will further agree with me in thinking, that should you shoot over

well-educated dogs of your _own making_, instead of to dogs broken by

others, your gratification would be as greatly increased as would have

been our Irish acquaintance's, had he shot to really killing dogs,

instead of possessing none at all. I firmly believe that more than half

the pleasure a sportsman derives from shooting, consists in watching

the hunting of well broken dogs, and that his gratification is nearly

doubled if the dogs are of his own training. It was this persuasion

that, on our introduction to each other (3), made me so strongly urge

you to break in your dogs yourself.

409. I might urge you to do so from yet another motive. What can you

name besides glorious hunting that will keep you in strength and prime

condition so long as shooting? Is not an autumnal excursion to the

wild moors, or even homely stubbles, far more invigorating than a

saunter at the most salubrious watering-place? And would not continued,

though it may be diminished, zest for the sport induce you to take air

and exercise at a time of life when little else would lure you from

the fire-side? That shooting, then, may not pall upon you as years

creep on, surely you would do well to make the healthy recreation as

attractive as possible; and hunting dogs of your own breaking would

undeniably lend it not only a great but an enduring charm.

[Page Header: OLD SCOTCH SPORTSMAN.]

410. A fondness for the beauties of nature, a sense of freedom

while one is inhaling the pure mountain breezes, and it may be a

consciousness of power, have made men bordering on four-score continue

to love their guns with a feeling somewhat akin to the fervour of their

first love, as is well exemplified in an aged tenant of Mr. W----n of

Edinburgh, to whom I have been occasionally indebted for a capital

day's sport.

411. Mr. W----n visiting one of his farms, found the old man, who had

been a keen sportsman all his life, labouring under chronic rheumatism

(caught by injudicious exposure in the discharge of his agricultural

duties), so severe as to be obliged to go about on crutches. After the

usual salutations, at meeting, the farmer began:--

"May be ye'll think the place negleckit-like, but I'm no able to look

after the wark noo."

"Keep a good heart," said Mr. W----n; "things are looking well enough.

I suppose you are pining after the shooting--you can get no sport now."

"Ye may weel think that," replied the farmer, adding in a sort of

chuckle and confidential undertone, "the auld gun and me is no parted

yet."

"But," rejoined Mr. W----n, "you surely don't mean that you can still

kill birds? You can hardly manage that."

"I can manage it fine," observed the other, with some pique; "the

cart takes me to the neeps.[79] The bit callant[80] helps me oot. I

hirple[81] on. When the dog maks a point, doon gang the crutches--the

laddie takes haud o' me, and though my legs is neither straught nor

steady, my e'e is as true as yer ain."

412. Breaking in dogs is not only an invigorating bodily exercise,

but a healthy moral training; for to obtain _great_ success, you must

have much patience and self-command; and whatever may be your rank

or position in life, Beckford--not he of Fonthill, but the man whose

memory is held in veneration by all Nimrods for his admirable "Thoughts

on Hunting"--will not allow you to plead, as an excuse, for what just

possibly may be want of energy or sad laziness, that breaking in dogs

for your own gun is an ungentlemanly or unbecoming recreation. I grant

he is speaking of instructors of hounds, but his words in their spirit

are fully as applicable to the instructors of pupils accustomed to the

smell of gunpowder.

[Page Header: BECKFORD CITED.]

413. In his 22d letter he writes, "It is your opinion, I find, that

a gentleman might make the best huntsman. I have no doubt that he

would, if he chose the trouble of it. I do not think there is any

profession, trade, or occupation, in which a good education would not

be of service; and hunting, notwithstanding that it is at present

exercised by such as have not had an education, might without doubt

be carried on much better by those that have. I will venture to say

fewer faults would be committed, nor is it probable the same faults

would be committed over and over again as they now are. Huntsmen never

reason by analogy, nor are they much benefited by experience." I

fear we may say the same of the generality of keepers, for decidedly

dog-breaking has not kept pace with the manifest improvements in other

arts. Few brigades--indeed few dogs are now-a-days broken like Major

B----d's (251), or Captain J----n's (542). But I do not intend to say

it is necessary; all that is merely for show might be advantageously

dispensed with.

[Illustration: SCENE FROM 'CRIPPLE-GAIT.'--'GAME' TO THE LAST.--Par.

411.]

414. It is hard to imagine what it would be impossible to teach a

dog, did the attainment of the required accomplishment sufficiently

recompense the instructor's trouble. Most of us have heard of the

celebrated dog "Munito," who, at some private signal from his master,

quite imperceptible to the spectator, would select from a pack of

outspread cards that which the spectator had named to the master in a

whisper, or merely written on a piece of paper.

415. In the unenclosed parts of France, when the young crops are on the

ground, you may frequently see a shepherd's dog trusted to prevent the

sheep from nibbling the tender wheat growing contiguous to the grass,

which he peaceably permits them to crop within a foot of the tempting

grain; but he is keenly watching, ready to dart at the first epicure

who cannot resist a bite at the forbidden dainty; and so ably and

zealously does the dog discharge his duties, that even in such trying

circumstances will the shepherd leave his sheep for hours together

under the charge of their sagacious and vigilant guardian. In a similar

manner, a couple of dogs, stationed one at each flank of a large flock,

effectually protect the vineyards from their depredations. The latter

you will think not so remarkable an instance of discrimination as the

former; for, compared with the difference in appearance between the

herbage and the vine, there is but little between the young grain and

the adjacent grass.

416. Who has not read with intense delight the tales of the almost

incredible intelligence and devotion to their duties of the Scotch

collie dogs, as related by the Ettrick Shepherd? He mentions one which,

when his master was speaking, evidently understood much of what was

said.

[Page Header: FAIRY AND MÉDOR.]

417. I know a lady who had a small, nearly thorough-bred King Charles.

Being one day desired by her mother to ring the bell, she turned to

the dog, and said, very energetically, "Fairy, ring the bell." The

little dog had no previous training, but she had been observant, and

was imitative. She immediately sprung at the bell rope, and pulled it.

"Fairy," indeed, unfortunately pulled with great violence--the rope

came down, and so alarmed was she (remember how I have cautioned you

never to alarm your pupil), that no subsequent coaxing could induce

her to return to the bell. But if she had not been frightened, she

might have become as serviceable a bell-ringer as the little dog that

preceded her in the office of pet. That predecessor (the mention of

a _useful pet_, though a lady was not his instructor, will, I hope,

redeem my character with the fair sex) saved his young mistress from

many an interruption of work and study, by ringing the bell on command.

And "Bob" was discreet in his _spontaneous_ ringings. He never rang

without a cause; but if he was unreasonably detained by himself, or a

visitor's knock remained too long unanswered, the tardy attendant was

warned of his remissness by a loud peal.

418. A French lady, who is fond of animals, at my request committed the

following anecdote to paper:--

419. "My dear Médor, a beautiful red and white setter, was remarkable,

I am told, for many rare qualities as a sporting dog; but, of course,

none of these could be compared, in _my_ eyes, to his faithfulness and

sagacity. I looked upon him as a friend; and I know that our affection

was mutual. I could mention several instances of his intelligence, I

might say reflection, but one in particular gave me such delight that,

though years have since passed away, all the circumstances are as fresh

in my memory as if they had occurred but yesterday. I was returning

from school at Versailles, and having rung uselessly for a little

time at the front door, I went round to the carriage-gate to have a

chat with my silky-haired favourite. He barked anxiously; thrust his

cold nose through an opening near the ground; scratched vigorously to

increase its size; and in numerous ways testified great joy at again

hearing my voice. I put my hand under the gate to caress him, and while

he was licking it, I said in jest, but in a distinct, loud voice,

'Dear Médor, I am shut out--go, bring me the keys.' It so happened

that the stable where they usually hung was not closed. Médor ran off,

and in a few seconds returned and placed them in my hands. I will not

attempt to describe _my_ gratification at such a striking proof of his

intelligence, nor _his_ evident pride at seeing me enter the hall; nor

yet the fright of the servant at thinking how long the street-door must

have been carelessly left open. 'Médor deserves that his life should

be written,' said I to my uncle when afterwards telling him the whole

story; 'I am sure his deeds are as wonderful as those related of the

"Chiens célèbres" by De Fréville.'

"My setter was immediately declared 'Keeper of the Keys,' and forthwith

invested with all the rights of office,--nor was this confidence

misplaced. He would never give up his charge to any one but to my

uncle or myself; and always seemed fully sensible of the dignity and

responsibility of his new position."

[Page Header: SULTAN AND THE GATE-KEY.]

420. Another anecdote touching keys.

A family residing at Chepstow had a house with a gate leading into the

castle-ditch, and they used to pass through it almost daily in order

to avoid the bustle of the town. The key of this gate was kept in the

kitchen, and a black retriever, Sultan by name, was accustomed to ask

the cook for it by pulling her dress until he succeeded in bringing

her under the nail on which the key was hung, and he always returned

it most honestly when the family had done with it. One day, however,

having brought it back as usual, he found the cook too busy to attend

to him, and, growing impatient he trotted off with it, and for a whole

fortnight it was missing. At length Miss ----, being much inconvenienced

by its loss, armed herself with a whip, and, standing by the gate,

called the dog, and said in a very determined tone, "Now, Sultan, bring

me that _key directly_." Off he went to a gooseberry-bush, scratched up

the key, and brought it to her. He had, probably, found the same spot a

safe depository for many a bone.

421. Mr. A----n, with whom I was slightly acquainted,--a man of great

originality, and singular shrewdness and intelligence,--had a dog

called Taffy, who had a remarkable aptitude for comprehending whatever

was told him. He knew by name every member of Mr. A----n's family,

though composed at least of ten individuals. On his master's saying,

"Taffy, give so-and-so a grip," the dog would to a certainty take

hold of the right person. "Harder, Taffy,--give a harder grip;" the

dog would bite more firmly. At the third order, "Harder, my boy,--yet

harder," the party assaulted would be too glad to _sue_ for mercy;

for no one dared to _strike_ Taffy excepting Mr. A----n. Even to him

the animal never submitted quietly, but kept growling and snarling

whenever he was being punished--indeed, on more than one occasion

he fought for the mastery, but unsuccessfully, for few men are more

resolute than was Mr. A----n.

[Page Header: TAFFY A GOOD WATCH-DOG.]

422. Taffy was an admirable watch-dog, and fully sensible of the

responsible duties that devolved upon him. It happened that, in a

violent storm, late one evening, when Mr. A----n was from home, the

force of the wind drove in the front door. Taffy forthwith commenced a

search from the bottom of the house to the top, apparently to ascertain

that no stranger had entered, and he then went downstairs. Next morning

he was found lying across the door-mat, where evidently he had remained

the whole night, although the cold and wet had been most severe.

423. Taffy's character was so established as a sagacious, faithful

guardian, that Mr. A----n's sister-in-law, feeling nervous at her

husband's being obliged to leave home, begged the loan of Taffy for

a few nights. Mr. A----n consented, and ordered Taffy, manifestly to

his great annoyance, to remain at the house. Four days afterwards

he reappeared at home, when Mr. A----n, in the belief that he had

run away, was about to beat him, but was persuaded to suspend the

punishment until it was ascertained whether Mrs. ---- had not brought

him into the neighbourhood. About an hour afterwards she arrived to

make inquiries about the dog, who, she said, had left her house the

moment her husband put his foot withinside the door.

424. Taffy was also a sporting character,--I fear I ought to say a

_poaching_ character,--for he was a peculiar dog, he had peculiar

ideas--would that such ideas were more _peculiar_--on the subject of

game, and fancied all means lawful that insured success. In the Isle of

Wight there once were (probably the spot is now drained) ten or twelve

acres of marsh-land, nearly surrounded by water, much in the shape of

a horse-shoe. It was a favourite resort for hares, as Taffy well knew.

His bulk prevented his ever having a chance of catching any in a fair

run; he used, therefore, to dodge about between them and the outlet,

and would so worry and distress them, that he was pretty certain of

eventually carrying off one as a prize.

425. We all remember the story of the unfortunate tailor deluged with

a shower of dirty water by the indignant elephant whose proboscis

he had imprudently insulted in the morning by pricking it with his

needle, instead of presenting the expected delicacy. It would appear as

though Taffy had heard and understood the anecdote. He was once pelted

with stones by some boys from behind a wall: having then no means of

retaliating, he seemed to take the affront quietly, but he did not

forget it; he patiently bided his time, and, as opportunities offered,

avenged himself upon each successively by knocking them down in the

dirt; nor did he allow one to escape unpunished, though some of them

avoided him for three weeks or a month. There were six offenders, and

he made all the six expiate their offences in a dirty kennel.

[Page Header: TAFFY PURLOINS.]

426. Indeed, Taffy would _never_ allow anybody, young or old, to play

tricks upon him with impunity. On one occasion, when the labourers had

left off work to take their dinners, one of them amused himself by

offering Taffy a piece of bread stuck on the end of a knife, and by

suddenly turning it over, managed to give the dog a rap on the nose

with the handle, on his attempting to seize the proffered gift. Taffy

bore the joke patiently for some time; but at length, thinking that

his good-nature was unduly taxed, and perceiving also that the loaf

was fast decreasing, he determined to turn the tables. Bristling up,

therefore, he jumped, open-mouthed, at the man, and so alarmed him,

that in his fright he dropped the bread, and Taffy quietly walked off

with it, much to the delight of the bystanders.

427. Though Taffy's natural parts were so great, they were doubtless

improved by education. If Mr. A----n ever called the dog's attention

to a thing by pointing at it, the dog would, to nearly a certainty,

bring it to him when he had got well out of sight, and was, therefore,

not likely to be suspected of participating in the robbery. Many a

time has Taffy run off with the _finest_ fish from the side of the

unsuspecting angler, who, until he was enlightened upon the subject on

its safe restoration, may in his bewilderment have gravely considered

whether, under very favouring circumstances, it would be possible for

a trout to possess the same vitality and power of locomotion as an

eel. It always tended to the maintenance of the piscator's proverbial

reputation for patience and equanimity, that he should not detect Taffy

in the commission of the theft; for the dog would constantly show fight

rather than give up the prize. He evinced yet greater adroitness in

securing pigeons. On numerous occasions bets have been laid, and rarely

lost, that he would bring home the _particular_ one indicated to him

out of a large flock feeding on the ground; for he would patiently

crouch,--perhaps affecting to be asleep,--until it incautiously

afforded him the opportunity of seizing it; but so careful was he of

his charge, that he invariably delivered it up to his master, perfectly

uninjured.

428. With all his cunning and eccentricities, Taffy was "passing

honest," and seldom purloined on his own account; but I regret to say

it is recorded of him, that in a moment of weakness and hunger he

yielded to temptation. The instance was this.--Taffy observed a woman

seated at a cottage-door feeding her child. He earnestly begged for

a share, but in vain. Remarking, however, that she frequently turned

round to dip the spoon into something, he contrived to creep behind

her without her perceiving him, when to his satisfaction he discovered

a basin of pap on the floor. It was too hot to gobble up at once; so

waiting quietly until her attention was drawn away, he cautiously took

up the crock and trotted off with it--to the good woman's dismay, who

was wondering what had become of her dear baby's dinner--and, without

spilling any of the contents, carried it to a convenient distance,

where he leisurely ate up all the carefully-prepared food, leaving the

basin perfectly undamaged, and as clean as if it had been washed by the

most praiseworthy housewife.

[Page Header: TAFFY'S PARENTAGE.]

429. Other stories could be told of Taffy's sagacity, but these

you will probably think more than sufficient. However, you would

perhaps like to hear how he was bred. No one can tell you more than

that, judging from his appearance, he must have had a strain of the

Newfoundland in him, for the circumstances attending his birth and

parentage are nearly as singular as his character.

430. A ship was lost in a storm off the Needles, in 1811. Nothing was

saved, not a plank whereon was a letter to indicate to what country

she belonged. For some weeks afterwards, a farmer in the Isle of Wight

found that regularly every night one of his sheep was destroyed. A

watch was set. The culprit was at length discovered to be a strange,

savage-looking dog, supposed to have escaped from the wreck. For many,

many nights it baffled its pursuers, but was at length wounded, and

tracked by its blood to a cave, where it was killed. Three young pups

were found. One of them, the said Taffy, was saved, and brought up by

hand by Mr. A----n, who became so fond of it that their attachment

might almost be said to be mutual. Taffy lived admired and honoured

beyond the term of life usually assigned to the canine race.

[Page Header: JESSE'S OPINION.]

431. Jesse[82] narrates many instances similar to the foregoing,

in his amusing work on Dogs--a book likely to convince the most

sceptical, that few among us give the canine race credit for half

the sagacity and intelligence with which they are really endowed. He

asserts, and I, for one, fully agree with him, "that there is not a

faculty of the human mind, of which some evident proof of its existence

may not be found in dogs. Thus," he says, "we find them possessed of

memory, imagination, curiosity, cunning, revenge, ingenuity, gratitude,

devotion or affection, and other qualities."

432. To this list he ought to have added jealousy: only this year

I heard of a stronger instance of it than I could have imagined

possible. Walking near Devonport, I met a man with two small dogs;

one was evidently a foreigner. Apologising for the abruptness of

the question, I inquired from what country the animal came. "From

Japan." I then asked whether he had ever bred from the other dog, a

most varmint-looking, wiry little terrier; he replied that she was

three years old, and had never had but one pup, which, because he was

fondling it, she had deliberately killed that very morning, although

it was six weeks old, and she was still nursing it. I cannot say that

she manifested either sorrow for its loss, or repentance of her

unnatural conduct; on the contrary her joyous gambols seemed to evince

her delight at having removed from her path a dreaded rival in the

affections of her master.

433. We must all admit that they have much reflection, or they would

not evince the good judgment they so frequently display in unusual

circumstances--circumstances in which mere instinct could in no way

assist them.[83] An industrious couple, who lived high on the side of

one of the romantic Ennerdale Hills, (Cumberland) in a cottage which

had descended through several generations from father to son, used

to gather fuel in a neighbouring wood. They often took their little

daughter with them; but one evening, whilst hunting for wild flowers,

she strayed beyond their sight or hearing. They searched unceasingly

for their lost darling as long as the waning light permitted them to

distinguish objects amidst the thick foliage; and then, with heavy

hearts, turned towards home, the father endeavouring to cheer the

mother with the hope he could not himself entertain that the little

girl might have wandered to her accustomed haunts; but they had the

grief of finding that she had not returned; and fruitless also was the

anxious search renewed by torchlight. The poor mother mechanically

spread out the frugal supper, thinking it possible that her husband

might partake of the food she could not taste. It would, however, have

remained on the board untouched had not the old dog seized a large

slice of the loaf and rushed out of the cottage. The father quietly

observed, "I never knew the dog to thieve before." Ere the day had

fully dawned, they were again hunting the wood; but they could discover

no trace of their child. At breakfast-time the dog, as on the preceding

evening, purloined a piece of bread. The man was about to strike the

depredator, but his wife, her countenance radiant with hope, stopped

him with the exclamation, "I am sure he knows where Agnes is." They

ran down hill after him, and at length found him near the edge of the

lake, lying on the child to keep her warm. She appeared quite satisfied

with her position, and extremely pleased with her shaggy companion. In

her small fat fingers she grasped the stolen bread, together with many

flowers she had gathered.

[Page Header: PHILAX AND BRAC.]

434. You may have seen the account of the marvellous tricks which

Monsieur Leonard, by kindness and perseverance, taught his dogs Philax

and Brac. That a dog could be tutored into playing as good a game

of dominos as a man, may sound preposterously unreasonable, but the

respectability of the writer compels us to give credence to the recital.

[Page Header: SHOWMAN'S DOGS.]

435. I, also, had once the honour of playing a game of dominos with

a learned dog, whose celebrity, however, was far inferior to that

acquired by M. Leonard's clever pupil. It thus happened. As I was

crossing the _Place St. Sulpice_, at Paris, I saw a large crowd

collected in a circle of considerable diameter round a man who was

exhibiting tricks with dogs. He had a great variety. Six were yoked in

pairs to a light carriage. On the roof sat a terrier dressed up most

fantastically, and who with difficulty retained his elevated position

when the carriage was in motion. Two others,--one an extremely small

animal, called the "petit Caporal,"--were favoured with places in the

interior. There were, also, two slight greyhounds and a Russian poodle.

Total, a dozen. It may be worthy of note that all, with, I believe,

only one exception, were of the masculine gender. They were miserably

thin, but I must admit that they appeared attached to their master.

[Illustration: DOMINI AND 'DOMINOS.'--Par. 434.]

436. When I joined the group, the showman was making a dog, dressed in

a petticoat and smart cap, dance a minuet. Then a greyhound leaped,

of course gracefully, through a hoop held by a boy over his head; and

afterwards trotted, as ungracefully, on three legs, affecting extreme

lameness on each alternately. The man then promised numerous surprising

feats if he could but collect as many as twelve sous. On summing up

the coppers thrown to him, there appeared to be thirteen. This he

averred to be such an unlucky number that he dare not proceed unless

some benevolent, Christian-like person would break the charm by adding

another sou. His demand was immediately complied with.

In order to increase the size of the arena--at least, such I conceived

to be the reason, it certainly had the effect--he drove the car fast

round the circle. He then spread ten cards on the four sides of an old

cloth, about five feet long, and of nearly the same width. Each card

bore a legibly-written number from 0 to 9. He invited the spectators

to ask for whatever number they pleased, provided it did not hold

doublets, nor contain more than four of the cyphers; asserting that

his dogs, without the least assistance from him, would bring, in

regular order, the several cards representing the required number; and

to create, as it seemed to me, the impression that it was a matter

of perfect indifference what dog he took, he unyoked one of the

leaders,--a close-cropped, small Dane,--and called him to the centre. I

begged a lady who was leaning on my arm, and whose eyes are generally

sharp enough, to watch the man most carefully. Some one demanded 1824.

The dog went round and round the cloth as if examining every card

separately, and lifted, in regular succession (carrying them one by one

to his master), the several numbers composing 1824. The dog committed

no blunder; and did not long hesitate in making his selection. Another

person in the crowd called out for 29, when the dog was equally

successful; and on neither occasion could the lady or myself perceive

that the man gave the slightest sign. At one time I thought I had

detected that he took a short step forward, as if to receive the card,

when the dog was about to grasp the right one; but I was soon aware

that I had only found a "mare's nest."

[Page Header: CARD TRICKS.]

437. When reharnessing the Dane to the carriage, the showman gave

out that, if duly paid, he could exhibit before the "respectable and

discriminating company" the feats of a far more wonderful animal. He

collected what satisfied him; and producing two similar packs of common

playing cards (say a dozen in each), he bade the Russian come forth and

astonish the public. The man distributed one pack along the borders of

the cloth; and handing round the other pack, he begged as many of the

company as pleased, to take a card. Five or six did so. The man then

showed what cards remained in his hands to the poodle, desiring him to

point out those that had been taken. The dog walked round and round the

cloth, and one by one fetched the corresponding cards.

438. The showman still more astonished the gaping crowd by assuring

them that this dog's intellect was so extraordinary and wonderful, that

he could read their most secret thoughts; and to prove the truth of his

assertion, whilst telling a good-humoured fiacre-driver, well known to

many of them, to think of a card, he successfully _forced_[84] one upon

his sight: and after coachee had, agreeably to the showman's desire,

whispered to a neighbour what it was, the dog, without taking much time

for reflection, selected the true card from among those lying on the

cloth.

439. The expressions of admiration and bewilderment this feat elicited

having somewhat subsided, the showman again laid out those cards on

which the numbers were written. There was a large public clock easily

visible from the _Place_: he held the dog's head towards it; requested

him to look at it attentively, and tell the gentlemen and ladies the

exact time,--first the hours, then the minutes. It was a quarter-past

two. The dog brought 2 for the hours, and then 1 and 5 for the minutes.

440. Having now sufficiently worked upon the imagination and credulity

of the observers, the showman drew forth a quantity of small folded

papers of various colours; and having spread them along the edges of

the cloth, he solemnly protested that the dog would tell the fortune of

any of his hearers who would first give him a sou. As a guarantee for

the dog's ability, he told them they might compare the several fortunes

written on the papers selected for them by the dog, however numerous

they might be, when it would be found that, without a single exception,

the canine magician would have foretold to each what could only happen

to an individual of his or her sex. The charlatan reaped a plentiful

harvest, for the temptation was strong--to female curiosity especially;

and no one could prove that the dog was ever in error.

[Page Header: PLAYING DOMINOS.]

441. After a laughable exhibition of several of the dogs marching in

procession, which he called "the carnival of Venice," he affected

suddenly to discover that none of the dogs had been allowed a game of

dominos. He again unyoked the Dane, and asked if any one was willing

to become his antagonist. As no one would step forward, whether from

bashfulness or fear of necromancy I cannot say, I avowed my willingness

to play. There were fourteen dominos. I drew seven. The others were

arranged for the dog on the cloth, far apart from one another. He had

the double six, and he immediately took it up to begin the game. I

followed; and we alternately played a piece in the most orderly and

regular manner--the dog carrying the dominos to the man to place for

him; wagging his short stump when he found (from his master's manner),

that he was right; and, to do him justice, he never made a mistake.

442. Although I was now close to the showman, I could not remark that

he gave the least signal by look, or by motion of hand or foot: but I

fancied--this, however, may be only another "mare's nest," though I

cannot think it was--that I heard him make a slight chuckling sound[85]

(with his tongue against the roof of his mouth), whilst the dog was

walking round from domino to domino, which ceased when he approached

the right domino, leaving the man at liberty to jest and talk nonsense

for the amusement of the crowd. He had evidently a long string of

ready-prepared witticisms. He laughed at the dog for being so long in

making up his mind as to what it would be most judicious to play;--told

him that he had been so hospitably treated by the good Parisians, that

it was evident his brains were not so clear as they ought to be, &c.,

&c.: all which verbiage I suspect the dog took as a confirmation that

he was making the selection his master wished. The man promised to call

upon me; but I was obliged to leave Paris sooner than I had expected,

and I never saw him again.

[Page Header: EXCELLENCE EXPECTED.]

443. Our attention, however, perhaps you will think, ought to

be confined to instances of intelligence and high education in

sporting dogs. Well, then, in the next Chapter I will speak of what

some dogs of that class do in this, and some are _trained_ to do in

other countries;--facts for the truth of which I can vouch, and I

hope the account will induce you to believe I am not unreasonable in

asserting that we have a right to require greater excellence in our

sporting dogs than what is now regarded by most of us as satisfactory.

CHAPTER XV.

ANECDOTES OF DOGS ON SERVICE ABROAD. RUSSIAN SETTERS.

444. Dogs for Hunting Bears in India.--445. Polygar Dogs for Hunting

Wild Hog in India.--446. Beaters in India; the greater utility of

Dogs.--447. Mongrel Pointer in India which proved of great value.--448.

Cross between Pointer and Indian Dog recommended; in Note, Arab

Greyhounds.--449. Coolness necessary in attacking large Game.--450

to 457. K----g's critical encounter with Elephant.--458. Sketch of

Scene.--459, 460. Wounded Elephant.--461. Pot shot at Bear to be

potted.--462. Skull of Indian and African Elephant differs.--463 to

467. M----e bearding Lion in Den.--468. Hindu's estimate of courage

of Europeans. Encounter with Wild Boar.--469. Strong Greyhounds

for killing Kangaroos in Australia.--470. Greyhound hunted with

Falcon.--471. The Creole Sportsman and admirable little Cur.--472.

His good generalship with Wild Hog.--473. The moral of the Story; in

Note, Guinea-chicks; Guinea-birds' eggs, how taken. Cross with Muscovy

Drake.--474, 475. Quantity of fish at Newfoundland. Dog Fishing.--476.

Sir H----d D----s.--477 to 480. Newfoundland fetching back Fox.--481.

Sir George B----k, R.N.--482 to 488. His Terrier "Muta" leading him

to Musk Bull.--489. His Sketch of the Scene.--490. Lord M----f; the

dogs "Captain" and "Suwarrow."--491. Dot-and-go-one, with his old

Pointer.--492. How fairly done by "Captain."--493. Breakers, not dogs,

in fault; they could be taught anything.--494. "Rap" (a Pointer)

hunting covers with Springers and Terriers.--495. "Shot" (a Pointer),

on alternate days, hunting with Hounds and standing at Birds.--496.

How accounted for.--497. Affection an incentive to exertion; Dropper

alternately pointing Grouse and Snipe; Grouse-dog to be rated when

noticing Snipe.--498. Capital Dropper from Russian Setter; difficulty

of procuring Russian Setters.--499. Bet respecting superiority of two

Keepers in the Highlands; how decided.--500. High-priced dogs ought to

be highly broken.

444. Bears of the common species which we often see led about, are

very numerous in the hilly districts of some parts of India. In rocky,

nearly inaccessible places, the natives hunt them with a strong-set

wiry dog. This dog is trained to watch for his opportunity, and leap

very high upon the chest of the bear, and seize his throat. You would,

perhaps, think this the most disadvantageous position which the dog

could select, enabling Bruin to crush him in his powerful embrace.

Not so. The well-instructed creature draws himself up so high that

the bear, in lieu of crushing his ribs, merely presses his hips,--and

the bear's arms, instead of injuring his opponent are often his best

protection; for the animals frequently come rolling together to the

foot of the hill, where the hunters despatch poor Bruin with their

spears.

[Page Header: BOAR AND POLYGAR DOGS.]

445. In other parts of India the natives chase the wild hog with a

coarse dog of the Polygar breed. The dog is taught to seize the hog

between the hind-legs when he has turned his head to meet some other

assailant, and to retain the hold until the hunters come up.

446. Talking of India, however, I cannot help digressing. Why should

not more Europeans residing in that country, have dogs as well-trained

for _birds_ as the Natives have for the bear and hog? I have often

thought what much finer sport I should have enjoyed, when I was serving

there, if I had then gained as much experience in dog-breaking as I

now have. As too many young fellows, belonging both to the Queen's

and Company's service, frequently complain of their inability to kill

time--(time which so soon kills them!)--it is a pity more of them

do not take to the innocent amusement of dog-breaking. The broiling

sun[86] makes all game lie so close in India (except very early in the

morning, and towards the close of day) that the best beaters, unless

the number be unusually great, leave nearly a dozen head of game behind

them for every one that is sprung, especially in jungly ground. The

evil is partially, I allow, but very partially, remedied in grass-land,

by attaching numerous little bells to the long cord carried by the line

of beaters. I have heard of this plan being pursued in England in the

absence of dogs, or when the scent was unusually bad.

447. The object at that time of my especial envy was a nondescript

belonging to an officer of the Company's service, with whom I used

occasionally to shoot near Belgaum. The animal had, I fancy, some

cross of pointer in his composition; so little, however, that he never

pretended to point. He used just to "feather" feebly when he happened

to get near any game; and as he was a wretchedly slow potterer, and

never strayed (for hunting it could not be called) far from his master,

all that he did put up was well within gun range. His owner thus got

nearly twice as many shots as any of his companions. How much his sport

would have been increased had he possessed a good dog!

[Page Header: ANGLO-INDIAN DOGS.]

448. Now there are some native dogs[87] in India with not a bad nose

(those, for instance, which are employed to hunt the porcupine at

night), and a breed from them with an European pointer[88] would,

doubtless, prove extremely useful. Their strength of constitution

would compensate for acknowledged inferiority in every other respect. A

cross with the Spanish Don would probably be the best, and the easiest

broken in, as he is so steady and full of point. But the Hidalgo would

be of little service out of the kennel. From his natural inactivity and

weight, he would soon knock up under an Indian sun. Three or four pups

would be enough for the dam to rear. Those most like the sire should

be preserved; and they might be kept in good health, if they were

occasionally treated to a _little_ calomel overnight, with castor oil

in the morning, and allowed full liberty to run about for an hour every

morning and evening. I knew some greyhounds of a purely English breed,

but born in the country, which were thus maintained in capital health.

They belonged to the only litter that the mother ever had. The climate,

which is generally fatal to England-born dogs, killed both the parents

within a year after their arrival in India. It is best that the pups

should be whelped in the latter part of the year, as they would then

acquire some strength before the setting in of the hottest weather,

and be of an age to commence hunting at the beginning of the following

cool season. The companionship of dogs in the jungle adds much to

the security of the pedestrians. A timid yelp or a clamorous bark

gives timely notice of the vicinity of every disagreeable, dangerous

neighbour, and enables the sportsman to take a cool deliberate aim,

instead of having to make a hurried snapshot at some stealthy panther

or tiger, or the far more formidable foe, a solitary buffalo. The habit

of placing the fore-finger alongside the stock, and not letting it

touch the trigger, until the moment of firing, proves very valuable

in these critical circumstances. Many a barrel has gone off, even in

the hands of an old sportsman, before he properly covered some vital

part of his first royal tiger. The certainty of ignition afforded

by a detonator gives great confidence to the present generation

of sportsmen. Even in the wettest weather, the waterproof caps

manufactured by Eley and others, seem to insure an instantaneous fire.

449. Great presence of mind in moments of unforeseen, sudden peril is

undoubtedly a gift; but calmness and self-possession, fortunately for

sportsmen seeking "large game" (burrah shicar), as it is technically

termed in India, can be acquired by reflection and habit.

450. A friend and old fellow-passenger of mine, one of the Colonels

K----g,--a name that will long be remembered at Hythe--evinced in

1816 as much coolness as I ever heard of. He was then on the staff

at Ceylon, and used, while accompanying the Governor on his annual

tour throughout the island, to have magnificent sport in places rarely

visited by Europeans. Indeed, his character as a slayer of elephants

was so fully established that he was often called "elephant-king."

[Page Header: ROGUE-ELEPHANT.]

451. On the party arriving one morning within the Mahagampattoo

district, the Governor said to K----g, "Surely you will not attack

the desperate brute that lately killed those villagers and the two

letter-carriers?" The sportsmen modestly replied, "I cannot say, sir;

perhaps I may." Now it is well known that a rogue-elephant is always a

formidable animal; but one _recently_ driven from a herd by a stronger

bull is particularly dangerous. In his malignant rage he often wantonly

attacks whatever he sees; and there are several instances of his having

displayed extraordinary patience in waiting for imprisoned men who had

climbed into trees, or retreated into caves, to avoid his fury.

452. The elephant the Governor referred to was, at that time, the

terror of the surrounding neighbourhood; for when maddened by

jealousy and rage at being expelled after a severe conflict from the

harem, and smarting from the blows and wounds inflicted by his more

powerful rival, he had ventured to attack an unfortunate labourer, and

finding how slight was the resistance offered, he had since sought

opportunities for wreaking his vengeance on man, of whom he had now

lost all his former instinctive dread.

453. About four o'clock, as the Governor, Lady B----g, and the staff,

&c., were seated at dinner, which was nearly over, a message that

caused some excitement among the hearers was delivered to K----g. The

Governor inquired about it. K----g explained that the Shircarree set

as a watch had reported that the much dreaded "Rogue" had just left

the jungle and appeared upon the plain. K----g asked leave to attack

him. Lady B----g begged that, escorted by a few gentlemen, she might

be allowed to watch his proceedings from some safe spot. This K----g

acceded to, but stipulated that he was then to be left entirely to

himself. On getting a view of the low ground, and observing several

herds of elephants scattered over the extensive plain, her ladyship

became nervous, and returned to the encampment. Her brother, Mr. B----t

and Mr. G. (now living in London) remained; and K----g placed them in a

secure position amidst some trees standing too close together to admit

of the elephant's forcing his large body through, should he be merely

wounded, and perchance take that direction.

454. After carefully examining the localities, K----g made a détour to

prevent the "Rogue" from winding him. There was some brushwood, but

no trees, to cover his approach. The vindictive solitary animal was

apparently brooding over his wrongs in an open space rich with the

luxuriant vegetation consequent on tropical rains. He began to feed,

striking the ground with each fore-foot alternately, in order to loosen

the grass from the soil. He then collected the herbage with his trunk;

but before carrying the mass to his mouth, shook it carefully to free

the roots from earth. This gave K----g the opportunity, stealthily and

creeping low, to get undetected about twenty paces in rear of him.

There he knelt and anxiously awaited the turn of the head that should

expose some spot not completely protecting the brain.

455. Long did he watch, for the elephant, when not engaged in feeding,

stood motionless, save an occasional whisk of his cord-like tail, or

the flopping of his huge ears. At times, however, he would slightly

bend his head when with his proboscis scattering sand over his body, in

order to drive off some troublesome insect; at which moment the hopeful

sportsman would noiselessly cock his piece, but only to again half-cock

it in disappointment.

[Page Header: ELEPHANT KILLED.]

456. Messrs. B. and G. became impatient. They fancied the elephant must

have stolen away; and a peacock happening to fly over their heads,

they fired at it. On hearing the noise, the elephant wheeled, and

perceived K----g. He curled his trunk under his neck, lowered his head,

and charged. The most vulnerable spot was thus presented. K----g's

barrel was deliberately poised,--a cool aim taken, and the trigger

pulled;--but it yielded not! K----g felt, he told me, "a choking

sensation"--certain death was before him; but instantly remembering

that he had replaced the piece on half-cock, he brought it from his

shoulder--full-cocked it--raised it again to level--and with unshaken

nerve, and unerring precision, a second time covered the vulnerable

spot. Down with a tremendous crash dropped the ponderous brute, first

on his knees, then on his chest; and with such speed was he charging

that he almost made a complete somerset in the act of falling stone

dead near the feet of his comparatively puny conqueror--vanquished by

skill and cool intrepidity.

457. The party on descending found K----g endeavouring to climb up the

enormous carcass. They feared the animal might be only stunned, but

K----g satisfied them by probing to its brain with his ramrod in the

direction the bullet had taken.

458. Colonel W. (the Q. Master General), who was of the party, made a

spirited sketch of the scene. I have more than once admired it. It is

admirably done in red chalk. K----g is seen standing upon the prostrate

elephant, and a number of the natives are represented in their

picturesque costumes, making grateful salaams to the "brave sahib" who

had slain their formidable enemy. Underneath the sketch is written "The

Mighty King."

459. My friend's nerves were so little affected by his narrow escape

that he killed two more elephants the same evening, and wounded

another. It was a long shot across the river. The animal was feeding.

K----g waited to aim until he could bring its temple so low as to

align with the elbow, when the head would be in a favourable position

for a well-directed ball to penetrate to the brain. But the two oz.

bullet missed the temple; it, however, struck the elbow and fractured

the bone. Darkness was gradually coming on,--the river was full

of alligators,--there was no bridge,--and K----g was unwillingly

compelled to defer despatching the poor creature until daylight the

next morning. He left it ineffectually endeavouring to make use of the

fractured limb by frequently lifting it with his trunk and placing it

in front.

[Illustration: THE MIGHTY KING.--Par. 458.]

460. Colonel W., whose artistic sketch shows that he was an undeniable

hand at the pencil, whatever he might be with the rifle, was ambitious

of being able to say he had killed an elephant. He, therefore, begged

leave to give the wounded animal its _coup de grace_. It was found

wallowing in an adjacent buffalo hole. Colonel W. got within twelve

yards of it, but bespattered by the mud the disabled beast threw

over him--the novel and only defence it could make--his aim was so

uncertain, that, after all, K----g had to put the sufferer out of its

misery.

461. Colonel W.'s ambition recalls to my mind a singular advertisement,

though I cannot think that even he would have answered it had he been

in London at the time. It appeared in the papers many years ago, but

was too ludicrous not to be still in the recollection of many. A

perfumer in Bishopsgate Street Without, gave notice in conspicuous

characters "to SPORTSMEN," that a splendid Bear was to be killed on his

premises, at which they might have a shot by paying,--I now forget what

exact sum.

[Page Header: ASIATIC AND AFRICAN ELEPHANTS.]

462. I am told that an examination of the skulls of the Asiatic and

African elephants would show a marked difference between the two, and

explain why the latter animal cannot be instantaneously killed. In the

Asiatic elephant there is a spot about the size of a man's hand between

and somewhat above the eyes, where a bullet can easily penetrate to

the brain when the head is carried low; whereas the brain, it is said,

of the African elephant is as effectually guarded on the forehead as

elsewhere. This might be inferred from a perusal of Gordon Cumming's

exciting book. Murray would not print many of the startling anecdotes

related in the manuscript, fearing they might throw discredit upon the

work. But it is, I think, to be regretted that he did not trust more to

the discernment of the public; and to the strong internal evidence of

truthfulness afforded in the descriptions given of the habits of the

various beasts which the author had singular opportunities of observing.

463. The mention of Gordon Cumming's name, which is naturally

associated with feats of cool daring, leads one to speak of an old

fellow-sportsman of his at the Cape of Good Hope. Doubtless there are

men of whom it may be almost averred that they know not the sensation

of fear. Of this number was Gordon Cumming's friend Captain G. B.

M----e of the 45th. Alas! we must say "was," for that brave heart has

ceased to beat.

[Illustration: COOL AS A CUCUMBER.

"Made the Caffre boy behind him pull the deadly trigger."--Par. 464.]

464. Whilst quartered with his regiment at the Cape, M----e took

constant opportunities of encountering single-handed the real lords of

the forest in their own wild domain; and numerous are the stories told

by his brother officers of his hair-breadth escapes. Gordon Gumming

and he often shot together; and I have heard it said that at a time

when his left arm was so much injured as to be perfectly useless, he

went close up to a lion, which was standing over Cumming's prostrate

body, and with his right hand aiming at the animal's heart made the

Caffre boy behind him pull the deadly trigger. And does not the little

fellow's heroic conduct, who placed such implicit confidence in his

master's address and nerve, claim much of our admiration!

[Page Header: ENCOUNTER WITH LION.]

465. M----e's courage was reckless. Having more than once failed in

getting a shot at a formidable lion which had committed great ravages,

and was reported to be of immense size, he determined upon tracking

the beast to his rocky fastness, and forcing him to a hand-to-hand

combat in his very den. One morning a recent spoor[89] enabled him to

find the cave he sought, the entrance of which was so contracted that

in order not wholly to exclude the light, he was compelled to lie down

and crawl in upon his elbows. Pushing the muzzle of his gun before him,

slowly, inch by inch he crept on, expecting every moment to see the

large, glaring, cat-like eye-balls, or to hear the menacing growl. His

sight becoming more accustomed to the gloom, he was enabled to scan

every crevice, and was satisfied that the master of the habitation

could not have yet returned from his nocturnal rambles. Bones of large

size were strewn about, as well as others whose suspicious appearance

prompted the involuntary reflection that the absent animal was in very

truth the dreaded "man-eater" who had so long baffled all pursuit.

Nothing daunted, but rather aroused by the thought to an increased

determination to destroy the monster, M----e resolved quietly to await

his return.

466. Hour after hour passes. The shades of evening fall. The bark

of the jackal and the howlings of the hyæna, showing the advance of

night, meet his ear,--but not the longed-for roar of the expected

lion. Surely he will again seek his lair while the bright moon yet

favours the intrepid sportsman. No--he comes not. Complete darkness

sets in--darkness intense in that deep recess;--but ere long the

discordant screams of the peacock announce the early dawn, and after a

while the hot beams of the sun again hush all into silence, save the

busy hum of innumerable insects. Horrible suspense! The weary hours

drag on--still he returns not; and there still sits M----e, but not

the man he was. Anxious excitement--want of sleep--and, above all, the

deprivation of bodily stimulants, have done their work. He was agitated

and unnerved. To quote his own words when afterwards recounting the

adventure, he "would have given worlds to have been away, or to have

had a flask of brandy." What madness, he thought, could have tempted

him to seek such certain destruction? Had the taint of his feet raised

the animal's suspicions? Was his presence detected? And was the shaggy

monster watching outside, crouching low, ready to spring when his

victim should be forced by hunger to emerge? Quit he dare not; yet to

remain with nerves unstrung was terrible. In his diseased state of mind

imagination conjured up awfully harrowing scenes in which man in his

feebleness had succumbed;--and was it really decreed that his crushed

bones should mingle unhonoured and unnoticed with the heap around him?

Hours that seemed days of torture passed away--again the sun reached

the zenith--again it sets--and again it shines upon the remains of

huge limbs, and upon those of slighter mould that bear a fearfully

close resemblance to his own! The sun has sunk behind the summit of the

distant hills, already the short twilight commences. Can he survive

another night of horrors, or shall he, risking all, rush forth.

467. Suddenly a deep and angry growl is heard. It acts as music

upon his soul--his nerves are at once restored to their pristine

firmness--strong is his pulse--steady his hand; his countenance lights

up with hope and animation; and as the cave is darkened by the entrance

of its legitimate but no longer dreaded owner, the favourite barrels

are deliberately levelled with the accustomed deadly aim.

[Illustration: A REGULAR BORE.

"Dropped upon his right knee,--brought his firelock to the charging

position."--Par. 468.]

[Page Header: ENCOUNTER WITH BOAR.]

468. The Hindoos, who are naturally an inoffensive timid race, have an

almost fabulous reverence for the courage of Europeans, whom they often

term fighting devils--an epithet applied in no disparaging way, but,

on the contrary, as the highest of compliments. The Assistant-surgeon

(B----h) and a Lieutenant (D----n), of a regiment to which I once

belonged on the Indian establishment, were travelling up the country.

On arriving early one morning at their breakfast tent (which had been

sent forward as usual the preceding evening), they were met by the

Cutwal and principal men of the small village, bearing a trifling

present of fruit. After many salaams, the deputation said that the

villagers were in the greatest distress,--that an enormous wild

boar and a sow had taken up their abode in the neighbouring sugar

plantation,--that the crop was fully ripe, but that whenever the

labourers ventured in to cut the canes they were driven out by a charge

of the swine; that the whole body, women as well as men, had united

more than once in an attempt to alarm the intruders with the noise of

tomtoms, cholera horns, firing of matchlocks, &c., but that the unclean

brutes would not leave, and that the inhabitants had nearly resigned

all hope of saving the crop, when they had the happiness of hearing

that an English officer was expected, who, as a matter of course, could

have no objection to shoot the vicious animals. D----n and B----h

willingly consented to start directly after breakfast. The former was

a keen sportsman, but the latter had never fired a gun; however, he

said he would do his best; and being furnished with an old musket, he

sallied forth "at fixed bayonets." Almost the moment they entered the

cover a crashing noise warned them to be on their guard. The boar,

without an instant's hesitation, rushed at the invaders, making a

special selection of the individual least accustomed to arms. B----h,

in no way daunted, dropped upon his right knee,--brought his firelock

to the charging position,--and calmly waited to pull trigger until the

formidable beast was so close upon the bayonet, that he knocked the

piece out of B----h's grasp, and sent him spinning heels over head.

On regaining his feet, B----h found that his formidable adversary was

already dead; the bayonet, much bent in the encounter, was buried deep

in his huge chest; and subsequent examination showed that the ball

had severed his heart into two nearly equal portions. The sow had

apparently quickly become aware of the mischance that had befallen

her mate, for she ignominiously fled from the field at her best pace.

In reply to the thanks, congratulations, and encomiums bestowed upon

the worthy Assistant-surgeon for his success and admirable coolness,

he quietly observed, that all was well that ended well; that it was

an awful beast; and that he would take precious good care never

voluntarily to encounter such another;--that he had had his first shot,

and fervently hoped it would be his last.

[Page Header: GREYHOUNDS AND KANGAROO.]

469. To hark back, however, to our subject. Greyhounds of a large rough

kind are trained in some parts of Australia to course the kangaroo. A

kangaroo when he is brought to bay[90] would disable a great number of

dogs, however bold and strong they might be, should they incautiously

attack him in front: for while he is sitting upon his hind-quarters, or

standing upright, he can by one blow, or rather strike of his hind-leg,

which is furnished with huge claws, tear open the strongest greyhound

from the chest downwards; and many dogs have been thus killed. As soon,

therefore, as a large kangaroo is seen, a _well-educated_ brace of

greyhounds are slipped. For some time, by a succession of enormous

bounds, the animal keeps far ahead of his pursuers--especially when

running up hill, where he is as much favoured by his long hind-legs as

a hare is by hers,--and all are soon lost to the sight of unmounted

hunters. When he has been overtaken and brought to bay, one of the

trained dogs keeps him there; and this he does barking round and round

him, threatening every moment to fly at him. The other dog returns

to the hunters, and leads them to the spot where his companion is

detaining the kangaroo: and so completely does the noisy assailant

engage the attention of the unfortunate beast, that the hunters are

frequently enabled to approach unperceived, and stun him with a blow

over the head. An old kangaroo is there termed by the hunters "an old

man;"[91] the flesh of a young one is, however, by many considered

very delicate eating. A powerful dog will kill a small kangaroo

single-handed; and if properly taught, will then seek for his master,

and conduct him to the body.

[Page Header: GREYHOUNDS, FALCON, AND DEER.]

470. In Persia and many parts of the East greyhounds are taught to

assist the falcon in the capture of deer. When brought within good

view of a herd the bird is flown, and at the same moment the dog is

slipped. The rapid sweep of the falcon soon carries him far in advance.

It is the falcon who makes the selection of the intended victim,--which

appears to be a matter of chance,--and a properly-trained greyhound

will give chase to none other, however temptingly close the alarmed

animals may pass him. The falcon is instructed to aim at the head

only of the gazelle, who soon becomes bewildered; sometimes receiving

considerable injury from the quick stroke of its daring adversary.

Before long the gazelle is overtaken by the greyhound. It is not always

easy to teach a dog to avoid injuring the bird, which is so intent upon

its prey as utterly to disregard the approach of the hound. Death would

probably be the penalty adjudged to him for so heinous an offence;

for a well-trained falcon is of great value. You can readily imagine

that neither it nor the greyhound could be properly broken unless the

instructor possessed much judgment and perseverance. The sport is very

exciting; but the spectator must be well-mounted, and ride boldly who

would closely watch the swift, varying evolutions of the assailing

party, and the sudden evasions of the helpless defendant. The education

of this falcon is conducted on the same principle as that of the

cheeta.--(Note to 284.) The lure is a stuffed gazelle. It is placed at

gradually increased distances. The raw meat is fixed between its eyes,

and the concluding lessons terminate with the sacrifice of a few tame

or maimed deer; a portion of whose warm flesh is given to the bird as a

reward for his aid in recapturing the unfortunate creatures.

[Illustration: THERE ARE BOUNDS TO SPORT.

"By a succession of enormous bounds, the animal keeps far ahead."--Par.

469]

[Page Header: BARBUDA CUB.]

471. An officer, quartered at Antigua, used occasionally to obtain

permission to shoot on an island called Barbuda, in the possession

of Sir Bethel Codrington. It is a strange spot,--a coral rock just

emerging from the sea, its highest point being no more than one

hundred and twenty feet above the water. The horses, cattle, and

everything on the island are wild, save the manager and two overseers,

its only white inhabitants. The former (I speak of the year 1835)

was a splendidly built man, not very refined, but full of energy,

an excellent shot, and an indefatigable sportsman. No Indian had

a keener eye for a trail. A turned leaf or a broken twig told him

the path, and almost the distance, of the hog or deer which he was

pursuing through the dark intricacies of stunted trees, cactus, and

long grass, with which the island is, in a great measure, covered. A

small mangy-looking mongrel, with a long thin muzzle, and lanky body,

always accompanied him. The sagacity of this brute, and his powers of

scenting game, were most remarkable. He generally walked about ten

yards in front of his master, and suddenly throwing his nose high in

the air, would quicken his pace, and trot up wind. Gradually again

his pace would slacken,--the trot was changed to a walk, the walk to

stealthy creeping, when he would raise each foot with the greatest

caution, putting it down as noiselessly as though shod with velvet,

most carefully avoiding the crisp leaves and dry twigs, for fear of

making the slightest sound. Presently he would stand stock-still (the

inclination to point is, I think, more general among dogs than many

men suppose) and look at his master; but he never did this unless the

game was well within shot. His master would now peer closely round, and

his eagle-eye never failed to detect the tip of a horn, or a dappled

spot, showing where a fallow-deer was feeding. If there was a flock

of Guinea-birds,[92] (which are numerous in Barbuda,) the sagacious

little creature would wait until the gun was close to him, and then,

to prevent their running, would dash in and spring them.

[Illustration: WARM GREETING OF A GREAT 'BORE.'--Par. 472.]

[Page Header: CUR AND WILD HOG.]

472. If a hog was in the wind, the cur dashed off immediately,

following the animal until it stopped at bay, when a shrill bark

warned the sportsman of the scene of action. The tiny animal had many

a scar on his rugged hide, cut by hogs, with whose ears and heels he

frequently took liberties; but, up to the time that the officer left

that part of the world, the dog had escaped serious injury by his

good generalship and activity. He certainly had a very just estimate

of his own physical powers, for with young porkers he stood on little

ceremony, rushing into them at once, and worrying and holding them

until the hunter came to his assistance.

473. You might draw a useful moral from this long story by considering

for a moment what kind of sport our Creole acquaintance would have

had, and what number of Guinea-birds, wild hogs, and deer (capital

shot as he was) he would have killed in the year, had he been obliged

to _speak_ to the little cur when hunting. The calculation, I fancy,

would not be found difficult from the number of figures employed in the

enumeration.

474. You may think the foregoing a tough yarn, but I have now in

my mind an instance of sagacity in a Newfoundland, apparently so

much less entitled to credence, that I should be afraid to tell it

(though the breed is justly celebrated for its remarkable docility

and intelligence), if its truth could not be vouched for by Capt.

L----n, one of the best officers in the navy; and who, when I had the

gratification of sailing with him, commanded that noble ship, the

"Vengeance."

[Illustration: INVITATION TO A 'WHITE-BAIT' DINNER.--Par. 475.]

[Page Header: A NEWFOUNDLAND FISHING.]

475. At certain seasons of the year the streams in some parts of North

America, not far from the coast, are filled with fish to an extent you

could scarcely believe, unless you had witnessed it--and now comes the

Munchausen story. A real Newfoundland, belonging to a farmer who lived

near one of those streams, used, at such times, to keep the house well

supplied with fish. He thus managed it:--He was perfectly black, with

the exception of a white fore-foot, and for hours together he would

remain almost immoveable on a small rock which projected into the

stream, keeping his white foot hanging over the ledge as a lure to

the fish. He remained so stationary that it acted as a very attractive

bait; and whenever curiosity or hunger tempted any unwary fish to

approach too close, the dog plunged in, seized his victim, and carried

him off to the foot of a neighbouring tree; and, on a successful day,

he would catch a great number.

476. I have another anecdote of a young Newfoundland, told me by

General Sir H----d D----s, to whose scientific attainments the two

sister-services, the army and the navy, are both so greatly indebted.

He bred the dog in America, having most fortunately taken the dam from

England; for, to her address in swimming, and willingness to "fetch,"

he and his surviving shipwrecked companions were, under Providence,

chiefly indebted for securing many pieces of salt pork that had drifted

from the ill-fated vessel, and which constituted their principal food

during their six weeks' miserable detention on an uninhabited island.

[Page Header: NEWFOUNDLAND AND FOX.]

477. At a station where he was afterwards quartered as a subaltern,

in '98, not far from the falls of Niagara, the soldiers kept a tame

fox. The animal's kennel was an old cask, to which he was attached by

a long line and swivel. The Newfoundland and the fox soon scraped an

acquaintance, which, in due course, ripened into an intimacy.

478. One day that Sir H----d went to the barracks, not seeing anything

of the fox, he gave the barrel a kick, saying to a man standing by,

"Your fox is gone!" This sudden knock at the back-door of his house so

alarmed the sleeping inmate, that he bolted forth with such violence

as to snap the light cord. Off he ran. The soldiers felt assured that

he would return, but Sir H----d, who closely watched the frightened

animal, had the vexation of observing that he made direct for the woods.

479. Sir H----d bethought him to hie on Neptune after Reynard, on

the chance of the friends coming back together in amicable converse.

It would, however, appear that the attractions of kindred (more

probably of freedom) had greater influence than the claims of

friendship; for, instead of the Newfoundland's returning with Pug as

a _voluntary_ companion, after a time, to the surprise and delight

of many spectators, the dog was descried, with the end of the rope

in his mouth, forcibly dragging along the disappointed fox, who was

struggling, manfully but fruitlessly, against a fresh introduction to

his military quarters.

480. "Nep" was properly lauded and caressed for his sagacity; and

Sir H----d was so satisfied that he would always fetch back the fox

perfectly uninjured and unworried, however much excited in the chase,

that the next day, after turning out Reynard, he permitted the officers

to animate and halloo on the dog to their utmost. When slipped, though

all eagerness for the fun in hand, "Nep" took up the trail most

accurately, hunted it correctly, and in due course, agreeably to his

owner's predictions, dragged back the poor prisoner in triumph, having,

as on the previous occasion, merely seized the extremity of the cord.

[Illustration: BRINGING HOME THE BRUSH.

"The dog was descried, with the end of the rope in his mouth, forcibly

dragging along the disappointed fox."--Par. 479.]

[Page Header: MUTA AND MUSK-BULL.]

481. For the following anecdote I am indebted to Sir G----e B----k, the

intrepid and scientific navigator, whose name will be mentioned as long

as British deeds of the present century are cited, descriptive of bold

daring and perseverance in surmounting the greatest difficulties.

482. "On the 8th of September, 1834, after a laborious morning spent

in ascending a part of the Thlew-ĕe-chōh-dezeth, or Back River,

we were detained by the portage of the 'Cascades.' While the men were

actively employed in carrying the things across, I was equally busy in

the tent, working a series of observations which had just been obtained

for longitude, &c.

483. "A little dog, a species of terrier, called 'Muta' from her

silent, quiet habits, was my only companion. She had been the faithful

follower of my party to the polar sea, and, independently of her value

as a good watch, was not only a pet of mine, but had managed to become

a great favourite with all the others.

484. "Muta had left the tent for upwards of an hour, but returned in

great haste, bustled about inside, rubbed against me, and with eyes

bright and eager stood looking in my face. Finding I paid no attention

to her, she rushed out--came back, however, quickly; and standing over

the gun, which was near me, again looked imploringly at me. Once more

she sprung outside, and barked anxiously.

485. "Still I continued my calculations; and perhaps twenty minutes

might have elapsed when Muta, warm and panting, leapt upon me--ran to

the gun--then to the opening of the tent, and evinced such very unusual

restlessness that I could not help fancying something must be wrong.

Being alone, I thought it well to be prepared, and accordingly put a

ball into my second barrel,--there always was one in the first,--and

followed her out.

486. "Her joy was unbounded, and perfectly noiselessly she led me

such a distance that I thought she was deceiving me, and I chidingly

told her so; but she still persisted in going forward, pleased though

excited. I walked on a little further, when conceiving I was but losing

my time I turned back. She ran round to intercept me, and so earnestly

resisted my attempts to retrace my steps, that I yielded to the appeal,

and again consented to accompany her.

487. "She brought me to the edge of a gully, fully half-a-mile from the

tent, partly sheltered by willows. Here she stopped. Thinking she had

tricked me, I began to reproach her, on which she darted like lightning

into the underwood, barking furiously, when, to my great surprise, out

rushed a large musk bull, which unluckily I only wounded, to Muta's

manifest disappointment, and my own great annoyance.

488. "Poor Muta's sad fate is recorded in the 462d page of my Narrative

of the Arctic Land Expedition of 1833-4-5, and she may be seen in the

mouth of the white wolf that killed her, safely housed in a glass case

within the walls of the United Service Institution."

[Illustration: SCENE ON THE 'THLEW-ĔE-CHŌH-DEZETH.'--Par. 487.]

489. At my request, Sir G----e kindly drew the spirited sketch, which I

have had engraved, of the scene he so vividly described.

[Page Header: CAPTAIN AND SUWARROW.]

490. Dining one day at the hospitable board of Lord M----f, he told

me, that many years ago an uncle of his, an excellent sportsman,

lent him a brace of short-haired English dogs, yclept "Captain" and

"Suwarrow,"--martial names! yet not inappropriate, you will think,

when you hear some of their feats of strategy. "Captain," moreover,

had other warlike propensities; he was a close-knit, powerful dog, and

there was no peace in any kennel he ever entered until its boldest

inmates had conceded to him all the privileges of commander-in-chief.

491. Lord M----f and a friend had obtained permission to shoot on

a considerable part of an extensive valley in Perthshire, lying at

the foot of "Schiehallion;" but unfortunately they had not the sole

right,--a similar favour had been granted to a lame man, but no _lame_

sportsman, who for some days greatly annoyed them. Start when they

would, and take what line they might, Dot-and-go-one with his old

pointer was sure to be on the heather before them.

492. "Captain" and "Suwarrow" bore this for some time with greater

_apparent_ patience than the gentlemen. On one occasion, however, when

the inferiority of the ground they were compelled to take was more

than usually obvious, "Captain's" blood was fairly roused,--he could

stand it no longer. Leaving his companion, he crossed at full speed to

the other side of the valley,--not, as might possibly be surmised, to

wreak his vengeance upon the old pointer,--but, strange to say, to hunt

at his best pace the good ground in front of his rival, and _raise_,

not _point_, every grouse he could find. When he conceived he had done

enough mischief, or perhaps thought he had driven a fair proportion of

birds to Lord M----f's side of the valley, he quietly returned to his

usual duties--duties which, be it remarked, he always performed most

steadily. As an evidence--on the evening of that very day, instead of

_pointing_, as was his wont, he _dropped_, on unexpectedly getting into

the midst of a pack, and did not stir an inch until all the birds had

successively risen. You will surely think _his_ right to be considered

a first-rate tactician is fully proved:--when you read 530, you will

perhaps allow that "Suwarrow" has an equally good, if not superior,

claim to the title.

493. And will not these evidences of great sagacity and, except in

the few last cases, instances of good breaking--and they might be

multiplied, I was nearly saying, _ad infinitum_, for every sportsman

could furnish some--convince you, that it is our own fault, if our

high-bred pointers, setters, and retrievers (which can scarcely be

surpassed in docility and intelligence), are indifferently educated?

It is not that _they_ cannot understand, but that _we_, either for

want of patience or reflection, cannot make ourselves understood. The

fault is _ours_, not _theirs_. They might, indeed, almost be taught

anything--even things quite opposed to their nature--if we did but act

more reasonably, and were not in most cases supinely content to stop so

very far short of perfection, apparently grudging a little additional

trouble.

[Page Header: RAP.]

494. In the "Sporting Magazine" for May, 1834, a likeness is given of

an admirable pointer named "Rap," of whom it is recorded that "he often

hunted in the woods with springers and terriers, all which time he

played in both characters, and in both excelled. No sooner, however,

had he returned to his especial occupation, as a pointer, than he

became as steady as ever."

495. I knew intimately an excellent shot (T. F----e, of the 76th),

who, some years ago, during one of the many disturbances in County

Tipperary, was quartered with a detachment of men at a gentleman's

house, in rather a wild part of the country. The proprietor kept a

small scratch-pack of harriers, with which the officer's pointer,

called Shot, became very intimate. When the hunting season commenced,

Shot accompanied them to the field, joined in the chase, and performed

uncommonly well; indeed, he frequently led the pack, and yet, singular

to say, he continued as steady as possible when he was shot to. As

you may well suppose, it was a source of much fun and laughter to the

Nimrods to see, regularly hunting with their harriers, a dog which

possibly had stanchly pointed at birds the preceding day.

496. Though I had bred and educated him myself,--he was the dog of

which I spoke (139) as behaving so well on the Galtee mountains when

first shown game,--no one could be more surprised than I was at hearing

of so novel a display of intelligence. It is partly to be accounted for

by the fact, that none of his high animal spirits and self-confidence

had been destroyed by severity in breaking. I can conscientiously aver

that I do not think I whipped him more than twice in the whole course

of his training, and I am certain not once harshly; and his next owner

was equally kind,--I might more correctly say, equally judicious.

[Page Header: MR. B----E'S DROPPER.]

497. As a dog that loves you, and possesses proper

self-confidence,--though, at the same time, he entertains due respect

for your authority,--will always exert himself to the best of his

abilities to please, it remains but for you to direct those abilities

aright. "Shot," you see, _pointed_ and _hunted_ on alternate days. A

little bitch, that I knew, would, on the same day, set alternately

different kinds of game, according to the wishes of her master. She

belonged to a Mr. B----e, near Templemore, and, with the exception that

she had no established judicious range, was one of the most killing

dogs to be met with in a long drive. She was an ugly, short-tailed

dropper; in appearance not worth three half-crowns. She was capital

on snipe; but on the bogs, if you were in expectation of meeting with

grouse, and, in consequence, refused to fire at one or two snipes, and

slightly scolded her for pointing them, she would immediately leave

off noticing them, confining herself entirely to hunting for grouse.

If you shot a snipe, and showed it to her, she would immediately

recommence seeking for the long-bills. But this would be a dangerous

lesson to teach a dog ever likely to be required on the moors. A dog

trained for grouse should invariably be rated whenever he notices

snipe; lest, after toiling up the side of a mountain on a broiling day,

in expectation of hearing the exciting "Whirr-r whirr-r," you be only

greeted with the disappointing "Skeap, skeap." On the other hand, if

you live in the lowlands, and think you may hereafter wish to take your

dog out snipe-shooting, make him occasionally point one in the early

part of his education. It is often difficult to bring a partridge-dog

to notice snipe, whereas a snipe-dog will readily acknowledge partridge

on account of the stronger scent.

[Illustration: RUSSIAN SETTER.

"Difficult to procure even in Russia of a pure breed."--Par. 498.]

498. Many sportsmen are of opinion that droppers inherit more of the

bad than the good qualities of their parents; but occasionally one of a

litter, like Mr. B----e's bitch, turns out an admirable dog, and proves

a valuable exception to the supposed rule. Sometime since I heard an

officer of the Engineers expatiating upon the excellent qualities of

a dropper (by his pointer "Guy") out of a Russian setter, which, as

he said, belonged to me many years ago: but he was mistaken. I never

possessed one. I wish I had; for I hear the breed is capital,--that

they are very easily broken,--are very intelligent,--have excellent

noses, and great endurance, but not much speed,--and never forget what

has been once taught them: in this respect more resembling pointers

than our setters, which are often wild at the beginning of a season.

Could we, by judicious crossing, improve them half as much as we did

the old heavy Spanish pointer.[93] what glorious dogs we should

possess! It is, however, very difficult to procure them even in Russia

of a pure breed; for so few sportsmen in that country think of shooting

according to our system, that but little attention is paid to their

fine setters.

[Page Header: RIVAL KEEPERS.]

499. If your patience is not exhausted, you shall hear (as told me by

an old commanding officer of mine, Major S----n) how, many years ago, a

bet was decided in the Highlands, as to the perfection in dog-breaking

attained by two rival keepers. It was in the month of August, and there

was plenty of game. The dogs produced by the two competitors performed

so brilliantly,--were hunted so noiselessly,--quartered their ground

so systematically and independently,--and worked so zealously, yet

cautiously, that the awarding of the palm seemed to be a difficult

matter. At length one of the keepers obtained the decision of the

umpires in his favour by the following feat. He made his three dogs, in

obedience to a low whistle and a sign, at a moment when all three were

separately setting, retreat from their several points without flushing

any of the birds, and take up each other's points, each dog remaining

stationary until he was individually shot over. This great command, I

suppose, but I cannot assert it positively, must have been gained by

much such kennel discipline as is described in 30. It would appear,

too, as if a distinct whistle or note had been employed for each dog

(505).

500. I only advocate instruction that is really useful; therefore, I

merely mention this instance of excellent breaking as another evidence

of the great perfection to which our well-bred dogs _can_ be brought:

and as it is certain they can reach such perfection, I think you will

admit that every _high-priced dog_ ought to be far better educated

than is customary. Indeed, I trust, if you are an enthusiast on the

subject, that you will not only agree with me in requiring that he be

as fully made as I have described, and as I am of opinion is absolutely

necessary (393), but that occasionally you will wish him to be yet

further instructed in some of the still higher accomplishments or

refinements which, if you are willing, we will now proceed to consider.

CHAPTER XVI.

DISTINGUISHING WHISTLES. "BACKING" THE GUN. RETREAT FROM AND RESUMPTION

OF POINT. RANGE UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN. HEADING RUNNING BIRDS.

501. A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG; disadvantage of

employing but one Whistle for several Dogs; supposed Case.--502.

Another Case.--503. Third Case.--504. Reader will admit correctness

of reasoning.--505. Dissimilar Whistles, or distinct notes on one

whistle.--506. Boatswain's Whistle almost a musical instrument.--507.

Railway Whistles; Porteous': general Rule for whistling.--508.

Porteous' newly-invented Dog Whistles.--509. DOG TO BACK THE GUN; how

taught; it creates Caution; in Note, sagacity of Fawn Antelope in

concealing itself; want of like sagacity in Pea-fowl. Portable rest

for Rifle.--510. Advantage of Dog backing the Gun.--511. American

Wood-duck.--512. DOG TO RETREAT FROM POINT AND RESUME IT.--513. How

taught.--514. Shows dog object for which he is hunted.--515. Not

taught too early.--516. Dog's Consciousness of its Object.--517.

Pointer doing it spontaneously.--518. Setter which was taught to do

it.--519. Surprising author by volunteering the feat.--520. Irish

Setter retreating from, and resuming point at Hare.--521. Bitch

that barked when pointing and hid in cover.--522. DOG TO HUNT FROM

LEEWARD TO WINDWARD, UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN; how taught.--523. A

_careful_ Dog running down wind would not spring birds.--524. The

great Advantages of the Accomplishment.--525. DOG TO HEAD RUNNING

BIRDS; could be taught.--526. Tolfrey's "Sportsman in France."--527.

Instance of Dog's spontaneously heading, and thus intercepting,

red-legged Partridges.--528, 529. M----i's "Albert" volunteering

to head Guinea-birds.--530. Lord M----f's "Suwarrow" spontaneously

heading running Grouse; then keeping his stern towards them.--531.

How accounted for.--532. Not so extraordinary had the Dog been taught

to hunt "unaccompanied by Gun."--533. The accomplishment taught by

"lifting;" not commenced first season. In Note, "Niger's" spontaneously

running to further side of hedge to drive birds to this side.--534.

Could be taught as easily as Shepherds' Collies are instructed.--535.

Particularly useful where the red-legged Partridge is found. Shooting

in Africa.

A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG.

501. Though you may have only begun to shoot last season, have you not

often wished to attract the attention of one of your two dogs, and make

him hunt in a particular part of the field, but, for fear of alarming

the birds, have been unwilling to call out his name, and have felt

loth to whistle to him, lest you should bring away at the same time the

other dog, who was zealously hunting exactly where you considered him

most likely to find birds.

[Page Header: WHISTLES.]

502. Again: have the dogs never been hunting close together instead

of pursuing distinct beats; and has it not constantly happened, on

your whistling with the view to separate them, that _both_ have turned

their heads in obedience to the whistle, and _both_ on your signal

changed the direction of their beat, but still the _two together_? And

have you not, in despair of ever parting them by merely whistling and

signalling, given the lucky birds (apparently in the most handsome

manner, as if scorning to take any ungenerous advantage) fair notice of

the approach of the guns by shouting out the name of one of the dogs.

503. Or, if one dog was attentive to the whistle, did he not gradually

learn to disregard it from observing that his companion was never

chidden for neglecting to obey it?--and did not such laxity more and

more confirm both in habits of disobedience?

504. I believe several of my readers will be constrained to answer

these questions in the affirmative; and, further, I think their own

experience will remind them of many occasions, both on moor and stubble

when birds were wild, on which they have wished to attract the notice

of a particular dog (perhaps running along a hedge, or pottering over a

recent haunt; or hunting down wind towards marked game) by _whistling_

instead of calling out his name, but have been unwilling to do so, lest

the other dogs should likewise obey the shrill sound to which all were

equally accustomed.

[Page Header: DIFFERENT NOTES.]

505. Now, in breaking young dogs, you could, by using whistles of

dissimilar calls, easily avoid the liability of these evils; and by

invariably employing a particular whistle for each dog to summon him

separately to his food (30), each would distinguish his own whistle

as surely as every dog knows his own master's whistle, and as hounds

learn their names. Dogs not only know their own names, but instantly

know by the pronunciation when it is uttered by a stranger. To prevent

mistakes, each dog's name might be marked on his own whistle. You might

have two whistles, of very different sound, on one short stock. Indeed,

_one_ whistle would be sufficient for two dogs, if you invariably

sounded the same two or three sharp short notes for one dog, and as

invariably gave a sustained note for the other. Nay, the calls could

thus be so diversified, that one whistle might be used for even more

than two dogs.

506. Whoever has heard the boatswain of a man-of-war piping all hands

on deck, must think his whistle, from the variety of its tones, almost

a musical instrument; but it could not well be employed for dogs, as

they would not understand it when sounded by any one but their master.

507. Railways have led to the introduction of new whistles. Porteous,

the band-master at Chelsea College (whose Light Infantry Field Pipe

is well-known to military men), has exercised his ingenious talents

in making several, but they are too shrill to be of much service to

the sportsman. The acorn (or bell pattern) has, however, a much softer

tone, yet it, too, makes an awful noise.

But whatever whistle you choose to employ, be sure, both in and out of

the field, to sound it softly whenever the dog is near you. Indeed,

you would act judiciously to make it a constant rule, wherever he may

be, _never to whistle louder than is really requisite_, otherwise (as

I think I before remarked) he will, comparatively speaking, pay little

attention to its summons, when, being at a distance, he hears it but

faintly.

508. I wrote to Mr. Porteous, explaining how much a whistle was wanted

that might be used by the most unmusical person, yet give distinct

unvarying sounds, so that no dog could mistake his own whistle, let it

be blown by whom it might. He at once understood what was required, and

has invented one with a slide that answers well for two dogs. He told

me that he was making further improvements, and expected to contrive

one which would answer for as many as three or four dogs. Messrs.

Stevens, Darlington Works, Southwark-bridge Road, are the manufacturers.

[Page Header: BACKING THE GUN.]

TO BACK THE GUN.

509. In shooting, especially late in the season, you will often mark

down a bird, and feel assured that you stand a better chance of getting

a shot at it if the dogs cease hunting whilst you approach it. You

can teach your dog to do this by holding up your right hand _behind_

you when you mark down a bird, saying at the same time, "Toho," in an

earnest, quiet voice, and carrying your gun as if you were prepared to

shoot. He will soon begin, I really must say it, to _back you_,--for he

actually will be backing you, ludicrous as the expression may sound.

After a few times he will do so on the signal, without your speaking

at all; and he will be as pleased, as excited, and as stanch, as if he

were backing an old dog. Making him "drop" will not effect your object;

for, besides that it in no way increases his intelligence, you may wish

him to follow at a respectful distance, while you are stealing along

the banks of some stream, &c. Ere long he will become as sensible as

yourself that any noise would alarm the birds, and you will soon see

him picking his steps to avoid the crisp leaves, lest their rustling

should betray him. I have even heard of a dog whose admirable caution

occasionally led him, when satisfied that his point was observed, to

crawl behind a bush, or some other shelter, to screen[94] himself from

the notice of the birds.

[Illustration: TELL ME MY HEART (HART) IF THIS BE LOVE.

"And took a random chance shot."--Par. 509, Note.]

510. The acquisition of this accomplishment--and it is easily taught to

a young dog previously made steady in backing another (it should not be

attempted before)--will often secure you a duck, or other wary bird,

which the dog would otherwise, almost to a certainty, spring out of

gun-shot. If you should "soho" a hare, and wish to kill one, you will

have an excellent opportunity of practising this lesson.

511. In America there is a singular duck, called, from its often

alighting on trees, the Wood-duck. I have killed some of these

beautiful, fast-flying birds, while they were seated on logs

overhanging the water, which I could not have approached within

gun-shot had the dog not properly backed the gun when signalled to, and

cautiously crept after me, still remaining far in the rear.

[Page Header: POINT RESUMED.]

TO RETREAT FROM A POINT AND RESUME IT.

512. Amidst coppices, osiers, or broom--indeed, sometimes on a rough

moor--you will occasionally lose sight of a dog, and yet be unwilling

to call him, feeling assured that he is somewhere steadily pointing;

and being vexatiously certain that, when he hears your whistle, he will

either leave his point, not subsequently to resume it, or (which is far

more probable) amuse himself by raising the game before he joins you.

There are moments when you would give guineas if he would retreat from

his point, come to you on your whistling, lead you towards the bird,

and there resume his point.

513. This accomplishment (and in many places abroad its value is almost

inappreciable) can be taught him, if he is under great command, by

your occasionally bringing him to heel from a point when he is within

sight and near you, and again putting him on his point. You will begin

your instruction in this accomplishment when the dog is pointing quite

close to you. On subsequent occasions, you can gradually increase the

distance, until you arrive at such perfection that you can let him be

out of sight when you call him. When he is first allowed to be out of

your sight, he ought not to be far from you.

[Page Header: DOG SHOWING HIMSELF.]

514. You may, for a moment, think that what is here recommended

contradicts the axiom laid down in 359; but it is there said, that

nothing ought to make a dog "_voluntarily_" leave his point. Indeed,

the possession of this accomplishment, so far from being productive of

any harm, greatly awakens a dog's intelligence, and makes him perceive,

more clearly than ever, that the sole object for which he is taken to

the field is to obtain shots for the gun that accompanies him. When he

is pointing on your side of a thick hedge, it will make him understand

why you call him off;--take him down wind, and direct him to jump the

fence: he will at once go to the bird, and, on your encouraging him,

force it to rise on your side.

515. You will practise this lesson, however, with great caution, and

not before his education is nearly completed, lest he imagine that you

do not wish him always to remain stanch to his point. Indeed, if you

are precipitate, or injudicious, you may make him blink his game.

516. After a little experience, he will very likely some day

satisfactorily prove his consciousness of your object, by voluntarily

coming out of thick cover to show you where he is, and again going in

and resuming his point.

517. I was once shooting in Ireland with a friend (Major L----e), late

in the season, when we saw a very young pointer do this solely from his

own intelligence. Unperceived by either of us he had broken fence, and

was out of sight. In vain we whistled and called. At length we saw him

on the top of a bank (in that country usually miscalled "ditch"); but

the moment he perceived that we noticed him, down he jumped. We went

up, and to our great satisfaction found him steadily pointing a snipe.

I need not say that he received much praise and many caresses for the

feat.

518. I was partridge-shooting a few seasons back with an intimate

friend, who was anxious to give me a good day's sport, when I observed

him beckoning to me from a distance. He told me, when I came up to him,

that some birds were immediately before him. I was puzzled to conceive

how he could know this, for his white setter was alongside of him

rolling on her back. He signalled to her to go forward, and sure enough

she marched on, straight as an arrow's flight, to a covey lying on the

stubble. In answer to my inquiries, my friend, who seemed to attach no

value to the feat, but to take it as a matter of course, told me that

he had called the bitch away from her point lest her presence should

alarm the birds, and make them take wing before I could come up.

519. As my friend was obliged to return home early, he left the lady

with me. I had marked some partridges into the leeward side of a large

turnip-field. I could not get her to hunt where I wished; I, therefore,

no longer noticed her, but endeavoured to walk up the birds without

her assistance. After a time she rejoined me, and ranged well and

close. I then proceeded to beat the other part of the field--the part

she had already hunted contrary to my wishes. Instead of making a cast

to the right or left, on she went, directly ahead, for nearly three

hundred yards. I was remarking to my attendant that she must be nearly

useless to all but her master, when I observed her come to a stiff

point. I then felt convinced that I had done her great injustice,--that

she must have found and left this covey, whilst I was hunting far to

leeward,--and that she had gone forward to resume her point, as soon as

my face was turned in the right direction. On my mentioning all this to

her owner, he said he had no doubt but that such was the case, as she

would often voluntarily leave game to look for him, and again stand at

it on perceiving that he watched her movements.

[Page Header: POINT VOLUNTARILY RESUMED.]

520. An _old_ Kentish acquaintance of mine, though he is still a

_young_ man, has an Irish setter that behaved in a very similar manner.

F----r, having severely wounded a hare in cover, put the dog upon the

scent. He immediately took it up, but "roaded" so fast as to be soon

out of sight. After a fruitless search for the setter, F----r was

obliged to whistle two or three times, when he showed himself at the

end of a ride, and by his anxious looks and motions seemed to invite

his master to come on. This he did. The sagacious beast, after turning

two corners, at each of which he stopped until F----r came up, went

into cover and resumed the point, which my friend feels satisfied the

dog must have left on hearing the whistle, for the wounded hare, whose

leg was broken, was squatted within a yard of him. Such instances of

a voluntary relinquishment and resumption of a point, must lead us to

think that this accomplishment cannot be very difficult to teach dogs

who have been accustomed to the gratification of always seeing their

game carefully deposited in the bag.

521. In a capital little treatise on field diversions, written by a

Suffolk sportsman upwards of seventy years ago, it is recorded that a

pointer bitch, belonging to a Doctor Bigsbye, used to give tongue if

she found in cover and was not perceived, and that she would repeatedly

bark to indicate her locality until she was relieved from her point.

[Page Header: TO RANGE WITHOUT GUN.]

TO HUNT REGULARLY FROM LEEWARD TO WINDWARD WITHOUT THE GUN.

522. In paragraph 201 I observed, that when you are obliged, as

occasionally must be the case, to enter a field to windward with your

pupil, you ought to go down to the leeward side of it, keeping him

close to your heels, before you commence to hunt. After undeviatingly

pursuing this plan for some time, you can, before you come quite to the

bottom of the field, send him ahead (by the underhand bowler's swing

of the right hand, IV. of 141), and, when he has reached the bottom,

signal to him to hunt to the right (or left). He will be so habituated

to work under your eye (176) that you will find it necessary to walk

backwards (up the middle of the field), while instructing him. As he

becomes, by degrees, confirmed in this lesson, you can sooner and

sooner send him ahead (from your heel),--but increase the distances

very gradually,--until at length he will be so far perfected, that you

may venture to send him down wind to the extremity of the field (before

he commences beating), while you remain quietly at the top awaiting his

return, until he shall have hunted the whole ground, as systematically

and carefully as if you had accompanied him from the bottom. By this

method you will teach him, on his gaining more experience, invariably

to run to leeward, and hunt up to windward (crossing and re-crossing

the wind) whatever part of a field you and he may enter. What a

glorious consummation! and it can be attained, but only by great

patience and perseverance. The least reflection, however, will show you

that you should not attempt it until the dog is perfected in his range.

523. A careful dog, thus practised, will seldom spring birds, however

directly he may be running down wind. He will pull up at the faintest

indication of a scent, being at all times anxiously on the look-out for

the coveted aroma.

524. Not only to the idle or tired sportsman would it be a great

benefit to have a field thus beaten, but the keenest and most

indefatigable shot would experience its advantages in the cold

and windy weather customary in November, when the tameness of

partridge-shooting cannot be much complained of; for the birds being

then ever ready to take wing, surely the best chance, by fair means,

of getting near them would be to intercept them between the dog and

yourself. The manoeuvre much resembles that recommended in 284, but in

this you sooner and more directly head the birds.

[Page Header: HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.]

525. Here the consideration naturally arises, whether dogs could not be

_taught_ (when hunting in the ordinary manner with the dog in rear)

TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.

Certainly it could be done. There have been many instances of old dogs

_spontaneously_ galloping off, and placing themselves on the other side

of the covey (which they had pointed) as soon as they perceived that it

was on the run,--and by good instruction you could develop, or rather

excite, that exercise of sagacity.

526. Tolfrey (formerly, I believe, of the 43rd) gives, in his

"Sportsman in France," so beautiful an instance of a dog's untutored

intelligence, leading him to see the advantage of thus placing running

birds between himself and the gun, that I will transcribe it, although

I have already mentioned (end of 206) Grouse's very similar behaviour.

527. "On gaining some still higher ground, the dog drew and stood. She

was walked up to, but to my astonishment we found no birds. She was

encouraged, and with great difficulty coaxed off her point. She kept

drawing on, but with the same ill-success. I must confess I was for

the moment sorely puzzled; but knowing the excellence of the animal, I

let her alone. She kept drawing on for nearly a hundred yards--still

no birds. At last, of her own accord, and with a degree of instinct

amounting almost to the faculty of reasoning, she broke from her

point, and dashing off to the right made a _détour_, and was presently

straight before me, some three hundred yards off, setting the game

whatever it might be, as much as to say, 'I'll be ****** if you escape

me this time.' We walked steadily on, and when within about thirty

yards of her, up got a covey of red-legged partridges, and we had the

good fortune to kill a brace each. It is one of the characteristics of

these birds to run for an amazing distance before they take wing; but

the sagacity of my faithful dog baffled all their efforts to escape.

We fell in with several coveys of these birds during the day, and my

dog ever after gave them the double, and kept them between the gun and

herself."

528. Mr. M----i, an officer high in the military store department,

wrote to me but last Christmas (1863) almost in the following words:--

[Page Header: ALBERT AND PEGGY.]

529. "When stationed in Jamaica, quail and the wild guinea-fowl were

the only game I ever hunted for. The latter are very difficult to

approach, as they run for hours through the long grass and brushwood,

and will not rise unless hard pressed; but when once flushed, they

spread through the cover, and lie so close, that one may almost kick

them before without raising them. My dog, 'Albert,' was broke on

grouse before I had him out from home. A steadier or better dog you

will rarely see. The first time we went out after guinea-fowl he set

to work as though hunting for grouse, pointing, and roading cautiously

when he came on the run of the birds, but, from their pace through

the cover, never coming up with them. This occurred the first two or

three mornings, and annoyed him greatly. At last one day, as soon as he

found that the birds were running through the bush, he halted, turned

round, and looked up at me as much as to say: 'My poking after these

fellows is all nonsense; do let me try some other dodge.' So I told him

to go on, when he instantly started off, making a wide cast until he

headed his game, when he commenced beating back towards me, driving the

birds before him until they were sufficiently near me, when he dashed

suddenly in amongst them, forcing the whole pack to take wing. They

spread through the surrounding grass and cover, and 'Albert' and his

mother, 'Peggy,' went to work, picking up the birds singly or in pairs

as they lay. Old mother 'Peggy' was far too sedate and stanch to follow

her son in the chase; she remained with me until he had brought back,

and flushed the birds, and then she vied with him in finding them.

From this time I never had any difficulty in getting shots at these

wary birds, for the very moment they commenced running, 'Albert' was

off until he headed them, drove them back, and flushed them, as above

described.

When looking for quail, 'Albert' behaved quite differently, working

steadily and cautiously, and never attempting to run into or spring his

game until I came close up to him."

[Page Header: SUWARROW.]

530. Grouse were unusually on the run one misty day, when the able

Judge mentioned in 490 was shooting over "Captain's" companion,

"Suwarrow." The dog "roaded" a pack for some time very patiently,

but suddenly darted off for a considerable distance to the right

and dropped into a long hag, through the mazes of which Lord M----f

followed as fast as the nature of the ground would permit him. Every

now and then the dog just raised his head above the heather to satisfy

himself that his Lordship was coming. Where the hag ceased, and

"Suwarrow" could no longer conceal his movements, he commenced a very

curious system of tactics, travelling, after a most extraordinary

fashion, _sideways_ on the arc of a circle, constantly keeping his

stern towards its centre. At length he wheeled about, and stood

stock-still at a fixed point, as if inviting Lord M----f to approach.

He did so,--raised a large pack, and had a capital right and left.

531. It would appear that the "Marshal" soon perceived that he had no

chance of being enabled by a regular pursuit to bring his artillery

to bear upon the retreating party; he, therefore, resorted to a novel

strategy to lull them into fancied security, and induce them to halt.

He at once made a feint of abandoning the pursuit, and moved off to

the flank. He made a forced _concealed_ march in the hag; and when it

would no longer mask his plans and he was compelled to show himself, he

merely let them see his _rear_ guard, that they might still think he

was retiring, and did not show any front until he had fairly entangled

them between himself and his guns. It was a feat worthy of "Wellington"

or "Napoleon," let alone "Suwarrow." By-the-bye, it explains why Lord

M----d's dog (295) faced about whenever he perceived that his presence

alarmed the birds.

532. If "Grouse" (206), Tolfrey's bitch, "Albert," and "Suwarrow" had

been taught to "hunt from leeward to windward without the gun" (522),

they would have been habituated to seeing game intercepted between

themselves and their masters,--and then their spontaneously heading

running birds (though undeniably evincing great intelligence) would

not have been so very remarkable. They would but have reversed matters

by placing themselves to windward of the birds while the gun was to

leeward. This shows that the acquisition of that accomplishment (522)

would be a great step towards securing a knowledge of the one we are

now considering. Indeed, there seems to be a mutual relation between

these two refinements in education, for the possession of either would

greatly conduce to the attainment of the other.

[Page Header: HEADING WOUNDED BIRDS.]

533. This accomplishment--and hardly any can be considered more

useful--is not so difficult to teach an intelligent dog as one might

at first imagine; it is but to lift him, and make him act on a larger

scale, much in the manner described in 309 and 544. Like, however,

everything else in canine education--indeed, in all education--it

must be effected gradually; nor should it be commenced before the

dog has had a season's steadying; then practise him in heading every

wounded bird, and endeavour to make him do so at increased distances.

Whenever, also, he comes upon the "heel" of a covey which is to leeward

of him,--instead of letting him "foot" it,--oblige him to quit the

scent and take a circuit (sinking the wind), so as to place himself to

leeward of the birds. He will thereby _head the covey_, and you will

have every reason to hope that after a time his own observation and

intellect will show him the advantage of thus intercepting birds and

stopping them when they are on the run, whether the manoeuvre places

him to leeward or to windward of them.[95]

[Page Header: SETTER TO RETRIEVE.]

534. If you could succeed in teaching but one of your dogs thus to

take a wide sweep when he is ordered, and head a running covey before

it gets to the extremity of the field (while the other dogs remain

near you), you would be amply rewarded for months of extra trouble in

training, by obtaining shots on days when good sportsmen, with fair

average dogs, would hardly pull a trigger. And why should you not?

Success would be next to certain, if you could as readily place your

dog exactly where you wish, as shepherds do their collies (143). And

whose fault will it be if you cannot? Clearly not your dog's, for he is

as capable of receiving instruction as the shepherd's.

535. Manifestly it would be worth while to take great pains to teach

this accomplishment, for in all countries it would prove a most

killing one when birds become wild; and, as Tolfrey shows (529), it

would be found particularly useful wherever the red-legged partridge

abounds,[96]--which birds you will find do not lie badly when the

coveys are, by any means, well headed and completely broken. But there

are other accomplishments nearly as useful as those already detailed;

the description of them, however, we will reserve for a separate

Chapter.

CHAPTER XVII.

SETTER TO RETRIEVE. BLOODHOUNDS. RETRIEVERS TO "BEAT." WOUNDED WILDFOWL

RETRIEVED BEFORE THE KILLED.

536. SETTER TO RETRIEVE; obtain thereby in one dog the services of

two; necessity of having some Dog that retrieves.--537. Predilection

for Setters confessed; Reason given; in Note, Setters daily becoming

more valuable than Pointers; Partridges netted by Poachers, also by

Keepers, to make birds wary; Bloodhounds to track Poachers; Education

of Bloodhounds; Education of Keeper's night dog. (See Appendix).--538.

Retrieving not to be taught first season.--539. Value of retrieving

instanced in Pointer.--540. One Dog only to retrieve; Dog that bolted

Partridge because interfered with by companion; Birds kept cool.--541.

Let "retrieving" be done by "Finder."--542. Captain J----n's three

Dogs that alternately retrieved as ordered.--543. Such an Education

could be given, but unnecessary.--544. Seeking Dead with two Dogs;

Winged Bird searched for in direction of covey's flight.--545. Scent

differs of wounded and unwounded birds.--546. Three dead Snipe

lifted in succession; Setter that stood fresh birds while carrying

a dead one; Pointer that pointed Partridge while carrying a hare;

Retriever refusing to relinquish chase of wounded Hare; _wounded_

Woodcock walked up to, not "set" by Dog.--547. "Venus" tracking winged

Partridge through Pheasants and Rabbits.--548. Injudiciousness of

_retrieving_ Setter pointing dead.--549. Argument against employing

retrieving Setters holds against using regular Retrievers.--550.

REGULAR RETRIEVERS TO BEAT; its Advantages; one Dog does the duty

of two.--551. Instance of Retriever doing so spontaneously.--552.

Retriever that never disturbed fresh ground.--553. WATER RETRIEVERS (OR

WATER SPANIELS) TO RETRIEVE CRIPPLED BEFORE PICKING UP DEAD WILDFOWL;

how taught.--554. None of these Accomplishments so difficult to teach

as a good range.--555. Might be taught by your Gamekeeper but not to be

expected of regular Breaker.

SETTER TO RETRIEVE.

536. Undeniably there is some value in the extra number of shots

obtained by means of highly broken dogs; and nearly as undeniable is it

that no man, who is not over-rich, will term that teaching superfluous

which enables him to secure in one dog the services of two. Now, I take

it for granted (as I cannot suppose you are willing to lose many head

of killed game), that you would be glad to be always accompanied in

the field by a dog that retrieves. Unless you have such a companion,

there will be but little chance of your often securing a slightly

winged bird in turnips. Indeed, in all rough shooting, the services of

a dog so trained are desirable to prevent many an unfortunate hare and

rabbit from getting away to die a painful, lingering death; and yet,

if the possession of a large kennel is ever likely to prove half as

inconvenient to you as it would to me, you would do well, according to

my idea of the matter, to dispense with a regular retriever, provided

you have a highly broken setter who retrieves well.

[Page Header: SETTER PREFERRED TO POINTER.]

537. I say setter rather than pointer, not on account of his more

affectionate, and perhaps more docile disposition (for certainly he is

less liable to sulk under punishment), but because, thanks to his long

coat, he will be able to work in any cover, and that from nature he

"roads" quicker.

I must, however, plead _guilty_ (for many good sportsmen will think

I evince bad taste) to a predilection for setters--meaning always

_cautious_ setters--a partiality, perhaps, attributable to having

shot more over wild, uncertain ground than in well-stocked preserves.

Doubtless, in a very enclosed country, where game is abundant, pointers

are preferable, far preferable, more especially should there be a

scarcity of water; but for severe and fast work, and as a servant of

all work, there is nothing, I humbly conceive, like the setter.[97]

He may be, and generally is, the more difficult to break; but when

success has crowned your efforts, what a noble, enduring, sociable,

attached animal you possess. I greatly, too, admire his long, stealthy,

blood-like action,--(for I am not speaking of the large heavy sort

before which in old days whole coveys used to be nettled), and the

animated waving of his stern, so strongly indicative of high breeding;

though, strange to say, in gracefulness of carriage the fox, when

hunting, and actually on game, far excels him. But we are again

getting astray beyond our proper limits; let us keep to the subject of

dog-breaking.

[Page Header: TO RETRIEVE SECOND SEASON.]

538. As it will be your endeavour, during your pupil's first season,

to make him thoroughly stanch and steady, I cannot advise you (as

a general rule liable, of course, to many exceptions--one of which

is named in 317), to let him retrieve,--by retrieve I always mean

fetch,--until the following year. There is another advantage in the

delay. His sagacity will have shown him that the design of every shot

is to bag the game--when, therefore, he has once been permitted to

pick up a bird, he will be desirous of carrying it immediately to

you, and will resist the temptation to loiter with it, mouthing and

spoiling it; and however keenly he may have heretofore "sought dead,"

he will henceforth search with redoubled zeal, from the delight he will

experience in being permitted to carry his game. Moreover, the season's

shooting, without lifting, will have so thoroughly confirmed him in

the "down charge," that the increased[98] inclination to bolt off in

search of a falling bird will be successfully resisted. If he has been

taught while young to "fetch" (107, 109, &c.), he will be so anxious

to take the birds to you, that instead of there being any difficulty

in teaching him this accomplishment, you will often, during his first

season, have to restrain him from lifting when he is "pointing dead."

The least encouragement will make him gladly pick up the birds, and

give them, as he ought, to no one but yourself.

539. Suppose you possess no regular retriever--if, instead of lifting

your game yourself, you accustom one of your pointers or setters to do

so, you will occasionally, in some odd manner, bag a bird which you

would otherwise inevitably lose. In 97 is given such an instance; and

in Scotland, no later than last season, I saw another. An outlying

cock-pheasant rose out of stubble. It was a long shot, but he was

knocked over, falling into an adjoining piece of turnips. After the

"down charge," a pointer bitch accustomed to retrieve, was sent to

fetch him. The moment she approached the bird, up he got, apparently as

strong as ever, and flew over some rising ground, but wither, I had no

idea, further than suspecting that he was making for a distant cover on

_forbidden_ ground. I, therefore, at once gave him up as lost. The dog,

however, was more sanguine, for, to my great surprise, off she started

in pursuit, clearly imagining it was quite a mistake of the pheasant's.

I soon lost sight of her, but, to my great gratification, I observed

her, some little time afterwards, topping the hillock with the bird in

her mouth. If she had been young, her chase after the pheasant might

only have shown sad unsteadiness and wildness; but as she was a stanch

sober old lady, it manifestly evinced nothing but,--it will be safest

to say,--much intelligence and discrimination, lest _you_ cavil at the

words reason or reflection. I must own _I_ should not.

[Illustration: "With more dogs than one the bird would, almost to a

certainty, be torn."]

[Page Header: ONLY ONE TO RETRIEVE]

540. You need hardly be cautioned not to let more than one dog retrieve

the same bird. With more dogs than one the bird would, almost to a

certainty, be torn: and if a dog once becomes sensible of the enjoyment

he would derive in pulling out the feathers of a bird, you will find

it difficult to make him deliver it up before he has in some way

disfigured it.

A bitch that retrieved admirably, known to an acquaintance of mine, was

on one occasion so annoyed at being interfered with by her companion,

that, in a fit of jealousy, she actually bolted the partridge she

was carrying lest "Jack" should come in for a nibble. I must confess

I think it of much importance that a dog who retrieves should be

tender-mouthed, for I own I like to put my birds by smooth and tidy,

and, if I want them to keep long, take care to observe the old rule of

hanging them (by their heads rather than their feet, that rain may not

saturate the feathers) on the loops outside the game-bag until they

are quite cool, before I allow them to become inside passengers; but

I generally have their bodies placed within the netting, as for want

of this precaution many a bird has been decapitated in the scramble

through a thick hedge. Game, whether cool or warm, kept in a close

_Mackintosh_ bag, soon becomes unfit to send to any distance.