[Page Header: THE FINDER TO RETRIEVE]

541. If you shoot with several dogs that retrieve, be careful always to

let the dog who finds the game be the one to bring it. It is but fair

that he should be so rewarded, and thus all will be stimulated to hunt

with increased diligence.

542. Captain J----n, R.N., of Little B----w, Essex (well-known for the

gallantry and skill he displayed when risking his own life to save that

of many stranded on the Kentish coast), used to break in his own dogs,

and retrieved them to show yet greater obedience and forbearance while

retrieving. At one period he was in the habit of taking two pointers

and a little spaniel into the field to hunt together,--the latter so

small that he often carried it in his pocket when it was fatigued. The

following kind of scene constantly occurred. One of the pointers would

stand,--the other back,--so also would the spaniel. Captain J----n,

after killing his bird and loading, probably said, "Don, go fetch it."

Don went forward to obey. "Stop Don." Don halted. "Carlo, fetch the

bird." Carlo advanced. "Stop, Carlo." Carlo obeyed. "Tiny, bring it."

The little creature did as ordered, and placed it in her master's hand,

the pointers meanwhile never moving.

[Page Header: SCENT OF HIT AND MISSED BIRDS.]

543. I am not urging you to give up the time requisite to educate dogs

so highly as this, but you see it can be done.

544. If the dog that found the covey be not able to wind the bird

you have shot, make one of the other dogs take a large circuit. The

latter may thus, without interfering with the first dog, come upon the

bird, should it have run far. Send him in the direction the covey has

taken--the chances are great the bird is travelling towards the same

point. By pursuing this plan, obviously there will be much less chance

of your losing a bird than if you allow the dogs to keep close together

while searching. (See also 115.)

545. Do not think that by making your setter lift (after his first

season), instead of "pointing dead," there will be any increased risk

of his raising unsprung birds. The difference between the scent of dead

or wounded game, and that of game perfectly uninjured, is so great that

no steady, experienced dog will fail to point any fresh bird he may

come across whilst seeking for that which is lost.

As a proof of this I may mention that,

546. In North America I once saw three snipe lying on the ground, which

a pointer, that retrieved, had regularly set one after the other,

having found a couple on his way to retrieve the first, and which he

afterwards brought in succession to his master, who had all the time

governed the dog entirely by signs, never having been obliged to use

his voice beyond saying in a low tone, "Dead," or "Find." I remember,

also, hearing of a retrieving setter that on one occasion pointed a

fresh bird, still retaining in her mouth the winged partridge which she

was carrying,--and of a pointer who did the same when he was bringing

a hare; there must, too, be few sportsmen who will not admit that they

have found it more difficult to make a dog give up the pursuit of a

wounded hare than of one perfectly uninjured. I know of a sportsman's

saying he felt certain that the hare his retriever was _coursing_ over

the moors must have been struck, although the only person who had fired

stoutly maintained that the shot was a regular miss. The owner of the

dog, however, averred that this was impossible, as he never could get

the discerning animal to follow any kind of unwounded game; and, on the

other hand, that no rating would make him quit the pursuit of _injured_

running feather or fur. The retriever's speedy return with puss,

conveniently balanced between his jaws, bore satisfactory testimony to

the accuracy of both his own and his master's judgement. In December

'49, a woodcock that was struck hard took a long flight. A setter bitch

I have often shot over came, quite unexpectedly to herself, on the

scent of the bird when it was at such a distance from her that the

party who had shot it felt sure she was on other game. Instead,

however, of "setting," the bitch, who, be it observed, is particularly

steady, drew on, and after deliberately walking up to the woodcock,

gave it a touseling, for she is not broken into "pointing dead." It is

certain that her olfactory nerves plainly told her there was no chance

of its rising.

[Page Header: COLONEL T----Y'S VENUS.]

547. In corroboration of the correctness of the opinion I have just

expressed, respecting the difference between the scent of injured

and uninjured birds, I am glad to be permitted to make the following

extract from a letter I lately received from Colonel T----y, spoken of

in 99. He writes, "When shooting at Alresford, in Essex, last year,

I had a singular instance of Venus' sagacity in detecting the scent

of wounded game. I was returning home, and while walking through a

field of turnips a covey of birds got up near the fence. I winged one,

which fell in the midst of some rabbits and pheasants feeding near the

edge of the cover on the opposite side. Of course, they all bolted

at the appearance of such an unwelcome visitor as the retriever--the

rabbits into their burrows,--the pheasants into cover. My servant

brought the bitch up to the place where I thought the bird had fallen.

After puzzling about for some time, she took the trail about thirty

yards down by the side of the fence, and then 'set' at a rabbit-hole.

Thinking she was mistaken, I rated her and tried to get her away,

but she stuck to her point. Determining, therefore, to ascertain the

facts, we dug up the top part of a narrow fence, and bolted a couple

of rabbits out of the hole, at the further end of which we found my

wounded bird, an old Frenchman."[99]

[Page Header: HARMONY BETWEEN DOG AND MASTER.]

548. Some good sportsmen maintain that a retrieving setter (or pointer)

on finding a dead bird ought to point it until directed to lift it.

This training they hold to be advisable, on the ground that it conduces

to the dog's steadiness by diminishing his wish to run forward on

seeing a bird fall; but the plan has necessarily this evil consequence,

that should the setter, when searching for the dead bird, come across

and point, _as he ought_, any fresh game, on your telling him to fetch

it (as you naturally will), he must spring it if he attempt to obey

you. Surely this would tend more to unsteady him than the habit of

lifting his dead birds as soon as found? Your dog and you ought always

to work in the greatest harmony--in the mutual confidence of your,

at all times, thoroughly understanding each other--and you should

carefully avoid the possibility of ever perplexing him by giving him

any order it is out of his power to obey, however much he may exert

himself. Moreover, if you teach your retrieving setter to "point

dead," you at once relinquish--surely unnecessarily?--all hope of ever

witnessing such a fine display of sagacity and steadiness as has just

been related in the first part of 546.

549. If you object to a setter's being taught to lift on the ground,

that it will make the other dogs jealous, pray remember that the

argument has equal force against the employment of a regular retriever

in their presence.

REGULAR RETRIEVER TO BEAT.

550. We all have our prejudices,--every Englishman has a right to many.

One of mine is to think a _regular_ retriever positively not worth

his keep to you for general shooting _if one of your setting dogs

will retrieve well_--but what an all-important "if" is this! However,

if you shoot much in cover, I admit that a regular retriever which

can be worked in perfect silence, never refusing to come in when he

is merely signalled to, or, if out of sight, softly whistled to, is

better[100] (particularly when you employ beaters), but even then he

need not be the idler that one generally sees,--he might be broken in

to hunt close to you, and give you the same service as a mute spaniel.

I grant this is somewhat difficult to accomplish, for it much tends

to unsteady him, but it can be effected,--I have seen it,--and being

practicable, it is at least worth trying; for if you succeed, you, as

before (536), make one dog perform the work of two; and, besides its

evident advantage in thick cover, if he accompany you in your everyday

shooting, you will thus obtain, in the course of a season, many a shot

which your other dogs, especially in hot weather, would pass over. If,

too, the retriever hunts quite close to you, he can in no way annoy his

companions, or interfere with them, for I take it for granted he will

be so obedient as to come to "heel" the instant he gets your signal.

[Page Header: RETRIEVERS BEATING.]

551. Many regular retrievers take spontaneously to beating. Two

brothers, named W----e, living at Grewell, in Hampshire, termed by the

village wags, not inappropriately, "Watergruel" (there is good snipe

and duck-shooting in the surrounding marshes), have a ranging-retriever

(a Newfoundland), still young, now called "Nelly," though, as a puppy,

christened "Nelson" by the girls of the family. _Miss_ Nelly, as if

to give further proof of the impropriety of her original name, is

remarkably timid, and therefore has been allowed to follow, unchecked,

her own devices in the field. In imitation of her companions, she

took to beating and pointing; and, after the "down charge," would

retrieve as zealously and efficiently as if she had never been allowed

to "quit heel," except for that express purpose. I have myself, when

in the north, killed game to the voluntary point of "Sambo," a black

regular retriever, who was permitted to range close to the keeper. I

have also shot to the point of "Bang," a very handsome animal, a cross

between a Newfoundland and a setter. Dogs so bred often, when ranging,

take to pointing for a short period before dashing in; or can easily be

made to do so,--thereby giving the gun a very acceptable caution.

552. The sire of "Venus"--honourable mention is made of her in 99--a

very celebrated dog, had an invaluable quality as a retriever, though

the very opposite of the range I have been recommending. He disturbed

as little ground as possible during his search, and _no fresh ground

returning_. After running with the greatest correctness a wounded

pheasant through a large cover, he would invariably return upon the

same track he had taken when first sent from "heel." I confess I

cannot see how this admirable habit could be taught by any one but

Dame Nature. Is it not a beautiful instance of sagacity? But you will

observe that, singularly good as was this regular retriever, he would

have sprung the snipe at which the retrieving-pointer stood (546). For

instructions regarding regular land retrievers, see 112 to 130.

[Illustration: EXAMPLE BETTER THAN PRECEPT.

"Accoutred as I was I plunged in and bade him follow."--Pars. 276 and

553.]

[Page Header: WATER SPANIELS.]

WATER RETRIEVERS (or WATER SPANIELS)

TO RETRIEVE WOUNDED, BEFORE PICKING UP KILLED WILDFOWL.

553. This a knowing old dog will often do of his own accord; but you

must not attempt to teach a young one this useful habit, until you are

satisfied that there is no risk of making him blink his birds. You can

then call him off when he is swimming towards dead birds, and signal to

him to follow those that are fluttering away. If the water is not too

deep, rush in yourself, and set him a good example by actively pursuing

the runaways; and until all the cripples that can be recovered[101]

are safely bagged, do not let him lift one of those killed outright.

If very intelligent, he will before long perceive the advantage of the

system, or at least find it the more exciting method, and adhere to it

without obliging you to continue your aquatic excursions. (For advice

about water retrievers, see 90 to 95.) I have placed this paragraph

among the "refinements" in breaking; but I ought, perhaps, to have

entered it sooner; for if you are fond of duck-shooting, and live in a

neighbourhood where you have good opportunities of following it, you

should regard this accomplishment as a necessary part of your spaniel's

education.

[Page Header: SUPERFLUOUS ACCOMPLISHMENTS.]

554. In your part of the country none of these extra, or, as some

will say, always superfluous accomplishments may be required; but if

you consider that a pupil of yours attaining any one of them would be

serviceable, be not deterred from teaching it by the idea that you

would be undertaking a difficult task. Any one of them, I was nearly

saying all of them, could be taught a dog with far greater ease, and

in a shorter time, than a well-established, judicious range.

555. It would be quite unreasonable to expect a regular breaker

("mark," I do not say your gamekeeper) to teach your dog any of these

accomplishments. He may be fully aware of the judiciousness of the

system, and be sensible of its great advantages, but the many imperious

calls upon his time would preclude his pursuing it in all its details.

At the usual present prices it would not pay him to break in dogs so

highly.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BECKFORD. ST. JOHN. CONDITION. INOCULATION. VACCINATION. CONCLUSION.

556. Reflect on what is said.--557. Not to rest content with bad

dogs.--558. Beckford's opinion of the education that could be given to

Dog.--559. Education of the Buck-hound.--560, 561. St. John's opinion.

The old Show-woman's learned dog.--562. Hunting to be Dog's principal

enjoyment.--563. While young, not to have run of kitchen. To be in

kennel; not tied up; chain better than rope.--564. When older, more

liberty allowed, but never to "self-hunt;" old Dogs spontaneously

take _judicious_ liberties. Easier to teach accomplishments than cure

faults. "Self-hunter's" example most dangerous.--565. Fine range

and perseverance attained. Irish red setters.--566. Good condition;

exercise on road; attention to feet. In Note, Claws sometimes too long;

Claws of Tigress that ran into feet.--567. Diet to be considered;

muscle wanted; fat detrimental, except to Water Retrievers. In

Note, recipe for waterproofing boots.--568. Indian-corn meal; Mr.

Herbert's opinion of; feed of an evening.--569. Beef-soup brings

Mange in hot climates: Mutton better--meat necessary to prevent

disgusting habits.--570. Good condition of Nose most material;

Kennels.--571. Warmth necessary; Winter pups.--572. Pups inoculated

for Distemper.--573 to 575. Vaccinated for Distemper.--576. Blaine

and Colonel Cook thought it useless.--577. Old prejudice against

Vaccination.--578. Colonel Hawker advocates it.--579. Salt for

Distemper.--580. Easy to give medicine.--581. The method.--582. If

force is necessary.--583. Castor oil lapped up with milk.--584. Dog

not to be lent.--586. In Note, old sportsman's advice about choosing

a Keeper.--588. Education gradual; taught from the A, B, C. In Note,

Query, do Keepers find time to break in dogs of strangers, while their

masters' remain unfinished? Advantage of young Dog's accompanying

Keeper when he goes his rounds by day. "Snap" daily visiting the traps

for his master.--585 to 589. The Conclusion.

556. We have come to the concluding division (dignified by the name

of Chapter) of this little Work; for I have at length nearly finished

my prosing about dog-breaking. But reflect upon what I have said. The

more you do, the more, I think, you will be of opinion that I have

recommended only what is reasonable, and that but little attention

beyond the trouble usually bestowed, _if directed by good judgment_, is

required to give a dog the education which I have described.

[Page Header: BECKFORD--BUCKHOUND.]

557. I wish I could animate you with but a quarter of the enthusiasm

which I once felt on the subject. I am not desirous of making you

dissatisfied with anything that you possess, excepting your dogs, such

as, I fear, they most probably are, and that only because, if they

are young, a little judicious extra-exertion on your part will add as

much to their usefulness as to your own enjoyment. And I do not wish

them, or anything you have, or have not, to make you discontented; I

only pray you not to be supine. If you can get no more alluring drink

than cold water, reflect on its wholesomeness, and enjoy it, if you

can, with all the relish of a parched Arab; but I entreat you not to

be contented with a disorderly _noise-exciting_ cur, when a trifling

addition to your pains will ensure you an obedient, well-trained

animal,--one that will procure you twice as many shots as the other.

It will, indeed. Believe me, I am not too extravagant in my conception

of a perfect dog. You may not consider it worth your while to take the

trouble of giving him such an education; but it seems hardly reasonable

to say it could not be imparted. Naturally enough you may distrust

my judgment, but you cannot doubt the experience of the reflecting,

discriminating Beckford; and what does he say on the subject of canine

education?

558. "The many learned dogs and learned horses that so frequently

appear and astonish the vulgar, sufficiently evince what education

is capable of; and it is to education I must attribute the superior

excellence of the buckhound, since I have seen high-bred fox-hounds do

the same under the same good masters.

559. "Dogs that are constantly with their masters acquire a wonderful

degree of penetration, and much may be done through the medium of their

affections. I attribute the extraordinary sagacity of the buckhound to

the manner in which he is treated. He is the constant companion of his

instructor and benefactor--the man whom he was first taught to fear he

has since learned to love. Can we wonder that he should be obedient

to him? Oft have we viewed with surprise the hounds and deer amusing

themselves familiarly together on the same lawn,--living, as it were,

in the most friendly intercourse; and with no less surprise have we

heard the keeper give the word, when instantly the very nature of the

dog seemed changed; roused from his peaceful state, he is urged on

with a relentless fury, which only death can satisfy--the death of the

_very_ deer he is encouraged to pursue. The business of the day over,

see him follow, careless and contented, his master's steps, to repose

on the same lawn where the frightened deer again return, and are again

indebted to _his_ courtesy for their wonted pasture. Wonderful proofs

of obedience, sagacity, and penetration!"

560. If you have at hand St. John's "Tour in Sutherlandshire" (he is

the author of that most interesting work, "Wild Sports and Natural

History of the Highlands"), pray turn to the part in the second

volume, where he describes the old show-woman's learned dog. I would

transcribe the whole of the amusing account, were not this little book

already swollen to undue proportions--but I must quote the concluding

observations, as his opinion respecting the aptitude of dogs for

instruction so fully coincides with Beckford's.

[Page Header: SHOW-WOMAN'S DOG.]

561. "The tricks consisted of the usual routine of adding up figures,

spelling short words, and finding the first letter of any town

named by one of the company. The last trick was very cleverly done,

and puzzled us very much, as we--_i.e._ the grown-up part of the

audience--were most intently watching not him but his mistress, in

order to discover what signs she made to guide him in his choice of the

cards; but we could not perceive that she moved hand or foot, or made

any signal whatever. Indeed, the dog seemed to pay but little regard to

her, but to receive his orders direct from any one who gave them. In

fact, his teaching must have been perfect, and his intellect wonderful.

Now I dare say I shall be laughed at for introducing an anecdote of

a learned dog, and told that it was 'all trick.' No doubt it was

'all trick,' but it was a very clever one, and showed how capable of

education dogs are--far more so than we imagine. For here was a dog

performing tricks so cleverly that not one out of four or five persons,

who were most attentively watching, could find out how he was assisted

by his mistress."

562. In following Beckford's advice respecting your making, as far as

is practicable, your dog your "constant companion," do not, however,

forget that you require him to evince great diligence and perseverance

in the field; and, therefore, that his highest enjoyment must consist

in being allowed to hunt.

[Page Header: LIBERTIES PERMITTED.]

563. Now, it seems to be a principle of nature,--of canine as well as

human nature,--to feel, through life, most attachment to that pursuit,

whatever it may be, which is most followed in youth. If a dog is

permitted as a youngster to have the run of the kitchen, he will be

too fond of it when grown up. If he is allowed to amuse himself in

every way his fancy dictates, he will think little of the privilege of

hunting. Therefore, the hours he cannot pass with you (after you have

commenced his education), I am sorry to say it, but I must do so, he

ought to be in his _kennel_--loose in his kennel,[102] not tied up;

for straining at his collar would throw out his elbows, and so make

him grow up bandy-legged. If, however, he must be fastened, let it be

by a chain. He would soon learn to gnaw through a cord, especially if

a young puppy, who, from nature, is constantly using his teeth, and

thus acquire a trick that some day might prove very inconvenient were

no chain at hand. You would greatly consult his comfort by having the

chain attached, with a loose ring and swivel, to a spike fixed a few

paces in front of his kennel, so that he could take some exercise by

trotting round and round.

[Page Header: "SELF-HUNTING."]

564. When your dog has attained some age, and hunting has become with

him a regular passion, I believe you may give him as much liberty as

you please without diminishing his zeal,--but most carefully prevent

his ever hunting alone, technically called "self-hunting." At that

advanced time of life, too, a few occasional irregularities in the

field may be innocuously permitted. The steadiest dogs will, at

times, deviate from the usual routine of their business, sagaciously

thinking that such departure from rule must be acceptable if it tends

to obtain the game; and it will be advisable to leave an experienced

dog to himself whenever he evinces great perseverance in spontaneously

following some unusual plan. You may have seen an old fellow, instead

of cautiously "roading" and "pointing dead," rush forward and seize

an unfortunate winged bird, while it was making the best use of its

legs after the flight of the rest of the covey--some peculiarity in

the scent emitted having probably betrayed to the dog's _practised_

nose that the bird was injured. When your pup arrives at such years of

discrimination, you need not so rigorously insist upon a patient "down

charge," should you see a winged cock-pheasant running into cover.

Your dog's habits of discipline would be, I should hope, too well

confirmed by his previous course of long drill for such a temporary

departure from rule to effect any permanent mischief; but, oh! beware

of any such laxity with a _young_ pupil, however strongly you may be

tempted. In five minutes you may wholly undo the labour of a month.

On days, therefore, when you are anxious, _coûte qui coûte_, to fill

the game-bag, pray leave him at home. Let him acquire any bad habit

when you are thus pressed for birds, and you will have more difficulty

in eradicating it than you would have in teaching him almost any

accomplishment. This reason made me all along keep steadily in view

the supposition, that you had commenced with a dog unvitiated by evil

associates, either biped or quadruped; for assuredly you would find it

far easier to give a thoroughly good education to such a pupil, than

to complete the tuition (particularly in his range) of one usually

considered broken, and who must, in the natural order of things, have

acquired some habits more or less opposed to your own system. If, as a

puppy, he had been allowed to self-hunt and chase, your labour would

be herculean. And inevitably this would have been your task, had you

ever allowed him to associate with any dog who "self-hunted." The

oldest friend in your kennel might be led astray by forming an intimacy

with the veriest cur, if a "self-hunter." There is a fascination in

the vice--above all, in killing young hares and rabbits,--that the

steadiest dog cannot resist when he has been persuaded to join in

the sport by some vagabond of a poacher possessing a tolerable nose,

rendered keenly discerning by experience.

565. I hope that by this time we too well understand each other for

you now to wonder why I think that you should not commence hunting

your young dog where game is abundant. Professional breakers prefer

such ground, because, from getting plenty of points, it enables them

to train their dogs more quickly, and _sufficiently well_ to ensure an

early sale. This is _their_ object, and they succeed. _My_ object is

that you shall establish _ultimately_ great perseverance and a fine

range in your young dog, let birds be ever so scarce. If you show

him too many at first, he will subsequently become easily dispirited

whenever he fails in getting a point.

[Page Header: ENERGY OF IRISH DOGS.]

It is the general paucity of game in Ireland (snipe and woodcock

excepted) that makes dogs trained in that country show so much untiring

energy and indomitable zeal when hunted on our side of the Channel. But

the slight wiry Irish red setter (whom it is so difficult to see on the

moor from his colour), is naturally a dog of great pace and endurance.

There is, however, a much heavier sort.

566. Many dogs, solely from want of good condition, greatly disappoint

their masters at the beginning of the season. You could not expect

your hunter to undergo a hard day's work without a previous course of

tolerably severe exercise; and why expect it of your dog? A couple of

hours' quiet exercise in the cool of the morning or evening will not

harden his feet, and get him into the wind and condition requisite for

the performance you may desire of him some broiling day in the middle

of August or early in September. If you do not like to disturb your

game, and have no convenient country to hunt over, why should you not

give him some gallops before the beginning of the shooting-season, when

you are mounted on your trotting hackney? Think how greyhounds are by

degrees brought into wind and hard meat before coursing commences.

Such work on the road will greatly benefit his feet,[103] particularly

if, on his return home in wet weather, they are bathed with a strong

solution of salt and water. When the ground is hard and dry, they

should be washed with warm water and soap, both to soothe them and to

remove all dust and gravel. They might afterwards be gradually hardened

by applying the salt and water. When they are inflamed and bruised,

almost a magical cure might be effected by their being sponged with a

solution of arnica--ten parts of water to one of arnica. Should the dog

lick the lotion, dissolve a little aloes in it. If, by-the-bye, you

would make it a rule personally to ascertain that attention is always

paid to your dogs after a hard day's work, and not leave them to the

tender mercies of an uninterested servant, you would soon be amply

repaid for your trouble by their additional performance. Many men make

it a rule to send their dogs to the mountains a week or two before the

grouse-shooting; but they seldom even then get sufficiently exercised,

and their mettle is slacked (confessedly a temporary advantage with

half broken, _wild_ dogs), instead of being increased, by finding that,

however many points they may make (at squeakers under their nose), they

never secure a bird. A month's road-work, with alterative medicine, is

far better.

[Page Header: MUSCLE WANTED, NOT FAT.]

567. Dogs severely worked should be fed abundantly on a nutritious

diet. Hunters and stage-coach horses have an unlimited allowance,

and the work of eager setters and pointers (in a hilly country

particularly) is proportionately hard; but the constitutions of dogs

vary so greatly that the quantity as well as quality of their diet

should be considered; for it must be your aim to obtain the largest

development of muscle with the least superfluity of flesh,--that

enemy to pace and endurance in dog as surely as in horse and man. Yet

this remark does not apply to a water retriever: he should have fat.

It is a warm, well-fitting great coat, more impervious to wet than

a _Mackintosh_,--furnished by Providence to whales, bears, and all

animals that have to contend with cold; and obviously your patient

companion will feel the benefit of one when he is shivering alongside

you while you are lying _perdu_ in a bed of damp rushes.[104]

[Page Header: NOSE IN CONDITION.]

568. Having mentioned condition, I am led to observe, that in America

I saw a pointer, which, from being hunted, I may say daily, Sundays

excepted, could not be kept in condition on oatmeal and greaves,

but which was put in hard flesh, and did his work admirably, when

Indian-corn meal was substituted for the oatmeal. I have not seen

it used in this country, but I can fancy it to be a heating food,

better calculated for dogs at regular hard work than when they are

summering.[105] It is well known that no food should be given in a

very hot state,--not of a higher temperature than milk-warm; and that

evening is the proper feeding-time, in order that the dogs may sleep

immediately afterwards, and not be full when they are taken out for

their morning's work.

569. In India, I remember complaining to an old sportsman that I had

much difficulty in keeping my dogs free from mange. He at once asked

if I did not give them beef-tea with their rice. I acknowledged that

I did. He said it was of too heating a nature. I tried mutton-broth,

agreeably to his recommendation. Every vestige of mange vanished,

but yet I could hardly believe it attributable to so slight a change

in their diet, for very little meat was used. As the mutton was much

dearer, I again tried the beef. It would not do. The mange reappeared.

I was, therefore, obliged to return to the mutton, and continue it. The

teeth of dogs show that flesh is a natural diet; and if they are wholly

deprived of it when they are young, they will acquire most revolting

habits,--feeding upon any filth they may find, and often rolling in it.

The meat should be cooked.

570. The good condition of a dog's nose is far from being an immaterial

part of his conditioning, for on the preservation of its sensitiveness

chiefly depends your hope of sport. If it be dry from being feverish,

or if it be habituated to the villanous smells of an impure kennel, how

are you to expect it to acknowledge the faintest taint of game--yet

one that, if followed up by olfactory nerves in high order, would

lead to a sure find? Sweetness of breath is a strong indication of

health. Cleanliness is as essential as a judicious diet; and you may

be assured, that if you look for excellence, you must always have your

youngster's kennel clean, dry, airy, and yet sufficiently warm. The

more you attend to this, the greater will be his bodily strength and

the finer his nose.

In India the kennels are, of course, too hot; but in the best

constructed which fell under my observation, the heat was much

mitigated by the roofs being thickly thatched with grass. In England,

however, nearly all kennels--I am not speaking of those for hounds--are

far too cold in winter.

[Page Header: KENNELS. WARMTH NECESSARY.]

571. There must be _sufficient_ warmth. Observe how a petted dog,

especially after severe exercise, lays himself down close to the fire,

and enjoys it. Do you not see that instinct teaches him to do this?

and must it not be of great service to him? Why, therefore, deny him

in cold weather, after a hard day's work, a place on the hearth-rug?

It is the want of sufficient heat in the kennels, and good drying and

brushing after hard work, that makes sporting dogs, particularly if

they are long-coated ones, suffer from rheumatism, blear eyes, and many

ills that generally, but not necessarily, attend them in old age. The

instance given in 226 is a proof of this.

Winter pups, you are told, are not so strong as those born in summer.

They would be, if they were reared in a warm room. The mother's bodily

heat cannot warm them; for after a while, they so pull her about and

annoy her, that she either leaves them for a time, or drives them from

her.

[Page Header: VACCINATION FOR DISTEMPER.]

572. As I have casually touched on puppies, I will take the opportunity

of recommending, according to the plan adopted by some sportsmen,

and of which I have experienced the advantage, that you have a whole

litter, soon after it has been weaned, (provided it be in a healthy

state), inoculated for the distemper,--a small feather, previously

inserted in the nose of a diseased dog, being for an instant put up the

nostrils of the puppies. It will be necessary to keep them unusually

warm,[106] and feed them high, while they are suffering from the

effects of this treatment. It is not likely that you will lose any; but

if you should, the loss will be small compared with that of an educated

dog at a mature age. The extent of the mischief will probably be a

slight cough, with a little running at the nose for a few days.

573. Having heard that vaccination would greatly mitigate the

distressing symptoms of distemper, if not entirely remove all

susceptibility to infection, I endeavoured to possess myself with the

facts of the case. Circumstances were thus brought to my knowledge

which appear so interesting, that a brief detail of them may not be

unacceptable to some of my readers. It would seem that vaccination

might be made as great a blessing to the canine race as it has proved

to mankind:--that is to say, many experienced men are still of that

opinion. All that I heard of material import is nearly embodied in

letters I received, some years ago, from Mr. L----e, of Neat's Court,

Isle of Sheppey, an intelligent sportsman, much attached to coursing.

As I am sure he will not object to my doing so, I will quote largely

from his notes. He writes nearly _mot-à-mot_.

574. "It is with pleasure that I answer yours of this morning, and

give you what little information I can respecting the vaccination of

my puppies. Mr. Fellowes, who resided about eight years since at 34,

Baker Street, was the first person from whom I learned anything on the

subject. He was a great breeder of bull-dogs, of all the canine race

the most difficult to save in distemper, greyhounds being, perhaps, the

next on the list.[107] He told me that in twelve years he had lost but

two puppies, and those not, he believed, from distemper, and yet he had

regularly bred every year.

575. "I went to town purposely to see him operate upon a clutch. The

method is very simple. Take a small piece of floss silk, and draw

the end through a needle. On about the middle of the silk place some

matter (when in a proper state) extracted from a child's arm. Unfold

(throw back) the ear so as to be able to see the interior part near the

root. You will then perceive a little projecting knob or kernel almost

detached from the ear. With the needle pierce through this kernel.

Draw the silk each way till the blood starts. Tie the ends of the

silk, and the process is completed. You may let the silk remain there:

it will drop off after a time. The object is to deposit the matter

by this method, instead of employing a lancet. I have great faith in

the efficacy of the plan, simple as it appears. With me it has never

failed. For some years in succession I dropped a clutch of greyhounds

and two litters of setters, and not a single pup had the distemper more

severely than for the disease to be just perceptible. A little opening

medicine then quickly removed that slight symptom of illness. Perhaps

the best age to operate upon puppies is when they are well recovered

from their weaning."

576. The balance of testimony and experience is, in my opinion, quite

in favour of vaccination; but there are authorities of weight who think

that no good results from it. It is, however, certain that it cannot

be productive of harm. Blaine writes that, as far as his experience

went, "vaccination neither exempts the canine race from the attack of

the distemper, nor mitigates the severity of the complaint." He adds,

however, that the point was still at issue.

577. It appears right to observe that Blaine and Jenner were

contemporaries at a period when the medical world was greatly opposed

to the vaccination of children. It is not surprising, therefore, that

there should have been an unjust prejudice against the vaccination

of puppies. Youatt is altogether silent on the subject, although he

quotes Dr. Jenner's description of distemper. Colonel Cook, in his

observations on fox-hunting, &c., says, "Vaccination was tried in some

kennels as a preventive, but it failed, and was abandoned." Mayhew[108]

does not allude to it.

578. Not until after the foregoing remarks on vaccination were

written, was I aware that Colonel Hawker recommended the plan, or, of

course, I should, in former editions, have quoted such high authority.

Speaking in 1838, he observes, "I have ever since adopted the plan of

vaccination; and so little, if any, has been the effect of distemper

after it, that I have not lost a dog since the year 1816."--"This

remedy has been followed with great success both here and in the United

States. The plan adopted is to insert a small quantity of vaccine

matter under each ear, just as you would do in the human arm."

579. I know of many dogs in the south of England having been cured of

a regular attack of distemper by a lump of salt, about the size of a

common marble, being occasionally forced down their throats; say, for a

grown-up pointer, half a dozen doses, with an interval of two or three

hours between each. The salt acts as an emetic. Nourishing food and

warmth are very requisite.

[Page Header: MEDICINE, HOW GIVEN.]

580. To some few of my readers it may possibly be of use to observe,

that with a little management, it is very easy to trick a dog into

taking medicine.

581. If your patient is a large animal, make a hole in a piece of

meat, and having wrapped the physic in thin paper, shove it into the

hole. Throw the dog one or two bits of meat, then the piece containing

the medicine, and the chances are that he will bolt it without in the

least suspecting he has been deceived. A pill, enveloped in silver

paper, emits no smell. If a powder is well rubbed up with butter,

and a little at a time of the mixture be smeared over the animal's

nose, he will lick it off and swallow it. Powders can also be placed

between thin slices of bread and butter, and be so administered. If you

are treating a small pampered favourite, probably a little previous

starvation will assist you.

582. Should you fail in your stratagems, and force be necessary, it

will be best to lay the dog on his back, or place him in a sitting

posture between your knees, with his back towards you. In either

position his legs are useless to him, as they have no fulcrum. While

you are making him open his mouth, if you do this by forcing your thumb

and fingers between his grinders, you can effectually protect yourself

from a bite by covering them with the dog's own lips--any powders then

placed far back on the tongue near the throat must be swallowed on the

dog's mouth being firmly closed for a few seconds. He will not be able

to eject them as they will adhere to his moist tongue. If given with a

little dry sugar they will be the less nauseous, and therefore the dog

will be less disposed to rebel when next you have occasion to act the

part of a doctor.

583. Castor oil is a valuable medicine for dogs; and it is a good plan

to let a pup occasionally lap milk into which a little of this oil is

poured, as then he will not in after life dislike the mixture.

[Page Header: DOG NOT TO BE LENT.]

584. I have still one very important direction to give: _NEVER LEND

YOUR DOG_. It may seem selfish, but if you make him a really good

one, I strongly advise you never to lend him to any one not even to a

brother, unless, indeed, his method of hunting be precisely the same as

your's. If you are a married man, you will not, I presume, lend your

wife's horse to any one who has a coarse hand; you would at least do it

with reluctance; but you ought (I hope she will forgive my saying so)

to feel far more reluctance and far more grief, should you be obliged

to lend a good dog to an ignorant sportsman or to one who shoots for

the pot.

CONCLUSION.

585. Gentle Reader, according to the courteous phraseology of old

novels, though most probably I ought to say, Brother Sportsman;--if you

have had the patience to attend me through the preceding pages, while

I have been describing the educational course of a dog from almost his

infancy, up to maturity, I will hope that I may construe that patience

into an evidence that they have afforded you some amusement and,

perhaps, some useful instruction.

586. Though I may have failed in persuading you to undertake the

instruction of your dogs yourself, yet I trust I have shown you how

they ought to be broken in;[109] and if you are a novice in the field,

I hope I have clearly explained to you in what manner they ought to

be shot over,--a knowledge which no one can possess by intuition, and

which you will find nearly as essential to the preservation of the good

qualities of well-tutored dogs, as to the education of uninformed ones.

587. I believe that all I have said is perfectly true, and, as the

system which I have described advocates kind treatment of man's most

faithful companion, and his instruction with mildness rather than

severity, I trust that you will be induced to give it a fair trial, and

if you find it successful, recommend its adoption.

588. I dare not ask for the same favour at the hands of the generality

of regular trainers--I have no right to expect such liberality. They,

naturally enough, will not readily forgive my intruding upon what they

consider exclusively their own domain,--and, above all, they will not

easily pardon my urging every sportsman to break in his own dogs. They

will, I know, endeavour to persuade their employers that the finished

education which I have described is useless, or quite unattainable,

without a great sacrifice of time;[110] and that, therefore, the system

which I advocate is a bad one. They will wish it to be forgotten--that

I advise a gradual advance, step by step, from the A, B, C;--that

accomplishments have only been recommended _after_ the acquisition of

essentials--never at the expense of essentials;--that at any moment

it is in the instructor's power to say, "I am now satisfied with

the extent of my pupil's acquirements, and have neither leisure nor

inclination to teach him more;"--and that they cannot suggest quicker

means of imparting any grade of education, however incomplete; at least

they do not--I wish they would; few would thank them more than myself.

[Page Header: CAUSE OF AUTHOR'S WRITING.]

589. Greatly vexed at the erroneous way in which I saw some dogs

instructed in the north by one, who from his profession should have

known better, I promised, on the impulse of the moment, to write. If

I could have purchased any work which treated the subject in what I

considered a judicious and perspicuous manner, and, above all, which

taught by what means a _finished_ education could be imparted, I

would gladly have recommended the study of it,--have spared myself

the trouble of detailing the results of my own observations and

experience,--and not have sought to impose on any one the task of

reading them. When I began the book, and even when I had finished it,

I intended to put it forth without any token by which the writer might

be discovered. Mr. Murray, however, forcibly presented that unless

the public had some guarantee for the fidelity of the details, there

would be no chance of the little work being circulated, or proving

useful; therefore, having written solely from a desire to assist my

brother sportsmen, and to show the injudiciousness of severity, with a

wish that my readers might feel as keen a zest for shooting as I once

possessed, and with a charitable hope that they might not be compelled

to seek it in as varied climates as was my lot, I at once annexed my

address and initials to the manuscript, but with no expectation that my

pen could interest the public half as much as it would a favourite Skye

terrier, well known in Albemarle Street.

UNITED SERVICE CLUB,

PALL MALL.

[Illustration: BRISK.]

POSTSCRIPT

TO THE SECOND EDITION, REPRINTED IN THIS.

[Page Header: MR. L----G'S LETTER.]

Sometime after the foregoing sheets were numbered and prepared for the

press, I received a letter on the subject of dogs and dog-breaking from

Mr. L----g (spoken of in 183).

I had long ago requested him freely to make remarks upon my book,

assuring him that as I had only written from a wish to be serviceable,

I could not but take all his comments in good part, however much

they might be opposed to my pre-conceived ideas. I further promised

to mention his criticisms for the benefit of my future readers, if I

considered them judicious.

Every man is fully entitled to form an opinion for himself: and as

there are minor points--though on most we are fully agreed--in which

Mr. L----g and myself slightly differ, I think it the fairest plan

to let him explain his own views in his own way, and I have the

less hesitation in doing so as, to most sportsmen, a letter from a

clever sportsman on his favourite subject must always be more or less

interesting. He writes nearly word for word as follows:--

"7, HAYMARKET, January, 1850.

"SIR,--On perusing your book on dog-breaking I really find little, if

anything, to say that will assist you in your new edition; but I must

observe that I think you would be doing a service to the community,

if you would lend a helping hand to improve the breed of pointers; or

rather to get up a sort of committee of sportsmen (thorough judges) to

investigate into the pedigree of dogs, and express their opinion of the

make, nose, durability, &c., of the several animals submitted to them;

that prizes might be awarded, or stakes hunted for; and books kept of

the pedigree of the several competitors, much in the same way as such

matters are managed with greyhounds.

"It is of no consequence how fast a dog travels who is wanted for

the moors, or how wide he ranges; but such a dog would be worse than

useless in the south, and in all small enclosures. I feel assured that

dogs which are first-rate on grouse are not fitted for partridge. My

experience tells me that not one dog in twenty is worth keeping,--that

the generality do far more harm than good,--this I see almost every day

that I am out. There seem to be now-a-days no recognised thorough-bred

pointers, but those obtained from one or two kennels in Yorkshire.

I have shot over many north-country dogs, but found there was too

much of the fox-hound blood in them for the south,--they are too

high-couraged, and range much too far. After the first fortnight of

partridge-shooting you want quiet, close rangers who will never move

until told. In the turnip-fields in Norfolk you will get among lots of

birds, and you may then fill your bag any day, provided you can hunt

the field in perfect quiet; but with a rattling, blustering dog you

will hardly get a shot,--yet you want a dog that shall be neither too

large nor too heavy.

"Not one dog in fifty of the many I see, properly hunts his ground.

The reason is this. The keepers in the north,--yet none understand

their duties better,--take out a lot of dogs along with an old one; off

they all start like oiled lightning--some one way, the others just the

contrary: one gets a point, they all drop and stop. The keepers say, is

not that beautiful?--is it not a picture for Landseer? I have followed

the party on the moors over the self-same ground a dozen of times, and

obtained with my brace of close rangers and good finders double the

number of shots that they did, and three times the amount of game;

for I was walking at my ease, and giving my dogs time to make out the

birds--which is very essential in the middle of the day, when there is

a scorching sun.

"I recollect one instance in particular. Some years ago I had just

arrived at the top of a very stiff hill on the Bradfield Moors (in

Yorkshire), and was making for a certain spring where I had forwarded

my luncheon, and a fresh supply of ammunition, when I saw, immediately

before me, two gentlemen with their keepers, and four very good-looking

setters, hunting the precise ground I had to take to get to my

point--about a mile off. I therefore sat down for a quarter of an hour

to let them get well ahead. They found several straggling birds; but

there was such a noise from the keepers rating and hallooing to the

dogs, that, although they got five or six shots, they only bagged one

brace of birds. When they reached the spring, they observed me coming

over the very ground they had beat only a quarter of an hour before.

I got ten shots, every one to points, and killed nine birds. I was

highly complimented on the beautiful, quiet style of my dogs, &c.,

and was offered a goblet of as fine old sherry as man ever drunk. I

need not observe that I much relished it after my morning's walk. The

gentlemen said, that if I felt disposed to take the dogs to the Tontine

Inn, Sheffield, when I had done with them, I should find fifty guineas

there awaiting me; but I declined the offer, as on several occasions

I had repented having yielded to the temptation of a long price for

favourite dogs. The brace I refused to sell were young setters, bred

by Tom Cruddas, keeper to--Bowes, Esq., near Barnard Castle, Durham. I

subsequently found them very unfitted for the style of work required in

small fields and indifferent stubble, and I was well beaten in a trial

with them against a brace of Russian setters. I afterwards procured the

latter by exchanging my Englishmen for them. For two years I was much

pleased with the foreigners, and bred some puppies from them; they did

not, however, turn out to my satisfaction. I then tried a cross with

some of the best dogs I could get in England and from Russia, but could

never obtain any so good as the original stock. I have now got into a

breed of red and white pointers from the splendid stock of the late

Sir Harry Goodrich, and many and many another hundred head of game

should I have killed,--and in much greater comfort and temper should I

have shot,--had I possessed so perfect a breed twenty years ago.

"As a proof of what can be done with dogs, I will mention that I broke

in a spaniel to hunt (with my setters) in the open as well as in cover,

and made him 'point,' 'back,' and 'drop to charge,' as perfectly as any

dog you ever saw; and he would, when ordered, retrieve his game; the

setter, meanwhile, never moving until desired. I shot over them for two

years. They were a very killing pair, but had not a sporting look. In

September, '38, I took them with me to that excellent sportsman, Sir

Richard Sutton. The old Squire Osbaldiston, was there. They were both

much pleased with the dogs. By letting my poor pet 'Dash' run about, he

was bitten by a mad dog in the neighbourhood. Of course I lost him.

"Speaking of spaniels, I must say I think that there is no kind of dog

that retrieves birds so well in thick turnips, where so much dead and

wounded game is frequently left unbagged. With 'Dash' I seldom lost

a feather in the strongest turnips in the course of a whole day; but

I now rarely go out with sportsmen but that I see two or three birds

lost,--sometimes more,--from what are _said_ to be the best breed of

retrievers in the country. The constant loss of wounded birds is one

of the drawbacks to the Norfolk shooting, where, without doubt, the

finest shooting in England is to be obtained. Gentlemen there go out,

some four, five, or six in a line, with only one or two retrievers, and

a man to each to pick up the killed game. The sportsmen never stop to

load, for each has generally a man by his side with a spare gun ready

charged. If a bird is winged, or a hare wounded, the dogs go in at once

to fetch it. Were the sportsmen to divide into distinct parties, each

party taking one or two steady, close-ranging dogs, what much more true

sport and pleasure they would have!--and kill, too, quite as much game.

"You ask me wherein I differ from you in what you have written?

Certainly in very little,--and I have sent several gentlemen to

Murray's for copies of your book; but in page 3, you say that

'dog-breaking does not require much experience.' There I cannot agree

with you,--for how is it that there are so few who understand it? Not

one keeper or gentleman in a thousand, in my opinion. The reason is

that they have not sufficient practice and experience.[111]

"In another point I differ with you. I have seen some of the best

rangers I ever shot over made by being allowed to follow their mother

in the field, or some very old dog,[112]--what some people would term

a worn-out potterer. But I think it a yet better plan to attach a

lay-cord of about forty yards in length to the collar of the young

dog, and let a man or boy hold the other end. You will give a slight

whistle when he gets to the extremity of his range, and a wave of the

hand to turn him forward or back.[113] By such means I have seen dogs,

with a few days' constant shooting, made perfect in that,--the _most

essential_ thing in all dog-breaking.

"I observe that you condemn the check-collar[114] _in toto_. I think

you are wrong. I have seen dogs cured by it who would not drop to

shot, but would perpetually rush in, especially if a wounded bird was

fluttering near them, and who had been most unmercifully licked, to

no useful purpose. I recollect orders being given to destroy a dog

that appeared utterly incorrigible. As he was a beautiful 'finder,'

I begged that he might be allowed one more trial. I sent to town for

a check-collar, and in a few hours he was pulled head over heels

half-a-dozen times. He then found out what he was punished for,

squatted down accordingly, and never afterwards attempted to rush

forward, unless he was over-fresh. You speak of hares not annoying

your dogs in Scotland. I have been sadly annoyed by them when

grouse-shooting there. In one part, from hares jumping up every five

minutes, I had great difficulty in restraining my dogs from chasing;

and on this occasion I found the check-collar quite a blessing,--for

had I used the whip I should have been thrown off my shooting, and the

noise would have disturbed the birds. I had at the time two of the best

shots in England shooting against me, and I should to a certainty have

been beaten had I not been so prudent as to take out the collar.

"I remember selling to a young officer a brace of my puppies, or

rather young dogs (for they were eighteen months old), for twenty-five

guineas. They were well broken, but had not been shot over. He had not

been an hour on the moors before up started one of the small Scotch

sheep. Both the dogs gave chase, and on their return the keeper was

directed to give them a good dressing. One of them would not hunt for

them again, and became so timid that the officer desired the keeper to

get rid of it. It was given to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who

knew he could not be far away in accepting it, as it had been bred and

sold by me. He took it out a few times and soon found out its value.

The other dog the officer sold for 10_l._, and then wrote a very angry

letter to me, complaining of my having sold him such a brace as well

broken. A fortnight after this he invited the gentleman who had become

possessor of the shy puppy to come and shoot with him. The gentleman

made his appearance with, what he termed, his 'shy friend.' After many

protestations against taking out such a brute, it was agreed that it

should be done on the gentleman's offering to bet 5_l._ that his 'shy

friend' would get more points than either of the dogs they proposed

hunting; and another 5_l._ that he should prove himself the best broken

of the dogs, and never during the whole day offer to chase hare or

sheep. The bets were not made, but to show you the esteem in which his

late master afterwards held the animal, he offered fifty guineas to

get her back, but the money was refused. His brother also turned out a

magnificent dog--so much for want of patience.

"It is just possible that all I have written may be of no use,--but

should you find it of any, it is quite at your service. Since I

last saw you I have had many more opportunities of observing the

extraordinary nose of the dog I showed you--a quality in which I

fancy forty-nine out of fifty dogs are deficient. I sent him down to

Hickfield-place, Hants, for the Speaker, who is an excellent sportsman,

to use for a few times to see if he was not superior to his dogs. He

returned the dog with a very handsome basket of game, saying he was

one of the finest dogs he had ever seen hunted, and he begged me to

get him a brace of the same kind against next season; stating that

the price would be no consideration if they proved as good as mine. I

have tried him against many other old dogs, _said_ to be 'the best in

England,' but not one of them had a shadow of a chance against him. I

have refused a very long price for him. For beauty, style, symmetry,

nose, durability, and good temper (a great thing), none can beat him.

I should like to increase his breed for the sake of the shooting

community; yet I have no wish to keep him publicly as a sire, nor to

send him away. I think I should be doing a general benefit, if I gave

it out that his services could be obtained for three guineas: and that

the sums thus obtained were to be set aside as a prize for the best

dog, to be contended for by competitors who should give 3_l._ or 5_l._

each. Something of this kind, could, I think, be managed, and it would

greatly tend to improve our breed of pointers. I bought a bitch with

the view of getting some pups by him. She had nine, but not one like

the father, grandfather, or great-grandfather--so I sold her, puppies

and all. I have just purchased another; she comes of an excellent

stock, and has good shape. I shall see what luck I have with her. She

is a far more likely dam.

"I should have written to you long ago, had I not expected to meet the

person I term my Yorkshire breeder. He is _the best breaker I ever

saw_, and a man you can depend upon. He and his father, for sixty

years, have borne as high a character for honesty, as for excellence

in breaking. Many a time has he contended, and always come off victor,

against Mr. Edge's dogs--a good trial kennel, but the breed have savage

dispositions, bad tempers, and are very unmanageable when young. I have

tried many of them myself, and have no faith in them.

"On the moors, when the work is excessively fatiguing, and plenty of

water is generally to be found, you may with advantage employ setters:

but in a hot September, in England, when no water could be procured,

I have known some of the best setters I ever saw do nothing but put

up the birds. In mid-day, when there was but little scent, their nasal

organs seemed quite to fail them, and being fast they constantly ran

into coveys before they could stop themselves.

"I was once asked to be umpire in a match between a pointer and a

setter. It was to be decided by which of the dogs got most points in

the day. As this was the agreement, I was obliged to abide by it and

decide accordingly: but that is not the test by which the superiority

of dogs ought to be determined. I presume what is really wanted in a

dog is _usefulness to his master in killing game_. If so, that dog

ought to be considered best which gets his master most shots within

a rise not exceeding forty yards.[115] The setter being faster and

taking a much wider range, got by far the most points, therefore I

was compelled to award him the prize; but the pointer made twenty-two

points to which the party got twenty-one shots. The setter got thirty

points, but only sixteen of them could be shot to, and he put up thrice

as many birds as the pointer. I could mention twenty other similar

instances of trials between pointers and setters, but I should fill

half-a-dozen more sheets and not interest you. It is getting dark, so I

will conclude my long yarn.

"I am, Sir,

"Your obedient servant,

(Signed) "JOSH. LANG."

APPENDIX.

NOTE TO 65.--_Covers._--_Shooting._--_Loading._

What convenient covers they are--and what excellent shelter they

furnish for game, when planted with holly, laurel, and other

evergreens!--especially if the proprietor, in a moment of sporting

enthusiasm, has consented to his keeper's request, and had some of the

trees half-felled, so that the branches lying on the ground live and

grow, deriving nourishment from the sap still flowing through the uncut

bark. Perhaps gorse forms the best ground cover for the preservation

of game; but it is far from being the most agreeable to shoot in. It

has, however, a great merit--it is much disliked by poachers. There

should be good roosting-trees; and the different kinds of fir--spruce

particularly--give most security, their thick, spreading branches

affording much concealment at all seasons of the year. They are, too,

of quick growth. But the most favourably planted covers will prove

unattractive unless there is a constant supply of water within a

reasonable distance. An old brother officer of mine, who has property

in Suffolk, argues,--and most will think correctly,--that for the

preservation of game, beltings should not run round the external part

of an estate (as is often the case,) but lie well within it, and at

some distance from a high road.

Talking of beltings and pheasants, as some sporting Griffin (to use an

Indian expression) may come across this book, I may as well, for his

sake, mention, that pheasants are generally prevented from running to

the further end of a belting, and then rising in one dense cloud, by

a man sent ahead striking two sticks together, or making some other

slight noise which, without too much alarming the birds, yet prevents

their running past him. As the guns approach him he gets further

forward and takes up another position, keeping wide of the cover whilst

he is on the move. Should the Griffin make one of the shooting party,

he is advised to bear in mind that the guns should keep close to the

hedge (or rails), that any game on the point of "breaking" may not so

readily observe them, and in consequence beat a retreat. By-the-bye, my

young friend, should you wish your host to give you another invitation

to his covers never let him see you carrying your barrels horizontally.

If you are a bit of a soldier you will know what I mean when I say

that, combining due preparation for prompt action with security to

him who may be skirmishing near, your gun can be conveniently borne

across the open at the "Slope arms" of the sergeant's fusil. When you

are in cover (or your dog draws upon game), it might be carried much

in the position of "Port arms." At the moment you level, following the

example of the best pigeon shots, place your left hand well in advance

of the poise. If you have any fears of the barrels bursting, leave

them at home. Your steadiest position is with the elbow held nearly

perpendicularly under the gun: whereas your right elbow ought to be

almost in a horizontal line with your shoulder, thus furnishing a

convenient hollow for the reception of the butt. The firmer you grasp

the stock the less is the recoil. That amusing fellow Wanostrocht, in

his work on cricketing ("Felix on the Bat"), writes, "The attitude of

_en garde_ of the left-handed swordsman is the attitude of _play_ for

the right-handed batsman,"--and you, my supposed Griffin, may rest

assured that it is the best position your feet and legs can take on

a bird's rising, but the right foot might be with advantage a little

more to the right. Wanostrocht continues, "The knees are bent; and the

body, well balanced, is prepared," you may add, "to turn steadily to

the right or left according to the flight of the bird." In nine cases

out of ten the common advice to "keep both eyes open" when firing

is extremely judicious. But some men are "left-eyed;" a matter you

have probably little thought about; and yet it is of consequence, for

if you are "left-eyed," your aim from the right shoulder (both eyes

being open) cannot be correct. To determine whether or not you are

"right-eyed," look steadily, with both eyes open, at any small object

near you,--rapidly raise a finger (of either hand) perpendicularly,

endeavouring to cover the object. Instantly close the left eye. If you

find that your finger lies in the direct line between the object and

your right eye, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you are

"right-eyed;" but if your finger, instead of intercepting the object,

is wide of the mark, at once close the right eye and open the left,

when you will, in all probability, perceive that your finger lies

directly between your left eye and the object, thereby showing that

you are "left-eyed." I hope it may not be so, as, unless you can shoot

from the left shoulder, you ought to close the left eye when bringing

your gun to the poise, until from practice you become "right-eyed." The

odds are in favour of your being right-legged as well as right-eyed,

which important point will be settled, I hope to your satisfaction,

should you ever be under the disagreeable necessity of having to kick

an impertinent fellow downstairs. Never shoot in a hurry. Strive to

acquire coolness--in other words, strive to acquire such a command

over your trigger-finger that it shall never bend until so ordered by

your judgment. Your eye will inform your reason of the exact moment

when you ought to pull, and your finger, submissive to reason, ought

to wait for that precise moment, and not yield to any nervousness.

Look with the _greatest intensity_ at the bird as it rises, and coolly

observe its line of flight while deliberately bringing the barrels to

your shoulder. Steadiness will be increased by your not removing the

gun from your shoulder the instant you have fired. Never fire when

your shot can be of no more advantage than a single bullet. If you

have a bet about killing a jack snipe, seize the favourable moment for

pulling the trigger when the pellets will be spread over a disk of more

than a yard in diameter. He will then be zigzagging some thirty-five

or forty yards from you; and if your aim is taken at this moment a

full foot in advance of his _general_ line of flight, there is little

chance of his escaping unpeppered (and one grain will suffice), however

adroitly he may turn and twist. For any kind of bird flying at that

distance rapidly down wind and crossing you, your gun ought to be

pitched _much_ further forward. A still greater allowance should be

made if the distance be considerable: and greater elevation should be

then given to the barrels, as the grains of shot will become deflected.

The same rule holds with birds rising. Aim must be taken above them.

There is always more fear of your firing too much to the rear and too

low, than too much to the front and too high. Fancy that hares and

rabbits have only heads--and get into the habit of looking at no other

part,--nay, of looking yet further ahead. The best cover-shot I know

says, that he aims at a rabbit rushing through gorse or underwood

a yard in front of the spot where he last caught a glimpse of it.

Rabbits halt for a moment the instant they get hidden by cover--not so

hares. That their hands and eyes may work in unison, novices have been

recommended to hang on the flight of swallows with an unloaded gun. It

would be better practice to hang on a full foot or more in front of

the birds. To save your locks use snap caps, and pull the very instant

you think your aim is correct. No second aim can be so effective as

the first. The more you thus practise (and at game especially, in

order to overcome any nervous sensation occasioned by birds rising)

before you commence using powder, the more certain is it that you

will eventually become a cool, steady shot. After having commenced

the campaign in right earnest, should you be shooting unsteadily or

nervously, you would do well to have the philosophy to go up a few

times to your dog's point with uncapped nipples, and by taking (long

after the birds are on the wing, but yet within shot) a deliberate aim

reassure yourself of the folly of all hurry and precipitancy. Lest

you should (as often happens in spite of every previous resolution)

involuntarily pull the trigger sooner than you intend, keep your finger

off it until the very instant you wish to fire.[116] If you shoot

with a muzzle loader and carry one of Sykes's spring-shot pouches--at

present in such general use--by having its nozzle lengthened (some few

are made long),--I mean by having a cylinder of nearly three inches

in length welded to its end,--you will be able to load quicker than

most of your fellow-sportsmen--particularly if you use a loading-rod:

the best are of cane, because the material is light and tough. You

can make the long nozzle of the shot-pouch (its end being cut square,

_i.e._ at a right angle to its length) force the wad over the powder

so far down the barrel before you press the pouch-spring to pour in

the charge of shot, that you need not draw your ramrod to drive home

until after you have inserted the shot-wad. Using a long nozzle has

also this great advantage, that the shot is packed more densely than

the powder. In the new German copper cap musket (whose long range is

now, 1854, much spoken of,) to keep the powder loose when the charge

is rammed home, a thick peg, nearly one and a half inches long, is

fixed longitudinally in the centre of the chamber,--I mean, in the

direction of the axis of the bore. This cylindrical peg, which is much

like the _tige_ invented by Colonel Touvenin in 1828, arrests the

_jagged_ bullet at the precise moment when the powder is sufficiently

pressed to remove all chance of the _slightly_ six-grooved barrel's

bursting; and yet not so much pressed as to interfere with the complete

ignition of _every_ grain. These lie loose round the peg. The want of

this complete ignition (owing to the rapidity of explosion not giving

time for all the particles of closely-wedged powder being fired) has

been the only valid objection yet offered to the detonating system.

For strong shooting, the wad over the powder should be _much_ thicker

than the wad placed over the shot. The several waddings now sold

greased with some mercurial preparation undeniably retard leading--a

great gain. If the long nozzle of the shot-pouch fits close within the

barrel, on unloading your gun you can easily return the shot into the

pouch without losing a grain. As a concluding piece of advice let me

recommend you, my young friend, to make but a light breakfast whenever

you expect a heavy day's work,--take out, however, a few sandwiches for

luncheon.

NOTE TO 283.--_Trapping._--_Owl as decoy._--_Hen Harrier._--_Keeper's

Vermin dogs._--_Stoats._

A good book for gamekeepers on trapping is still a great desideratum.

It should be written by a practical man who is a bit of a naturalist;

for no trapper can be very successful unless he is well acquainted with

the haunts and habits of the many kinds of vermin it is his business

to destroy. Mr. C----e's gamekeeper, at R----n, Perthshire, who was

well aware of the great importance of diligently searching for their

nests in the breeding season, was at length amply repaid for often

watching the proceedings of a hen-harrier frequently seen hovering

over a small wood not far from his cottage. He could never perceive

that she alighted on any of the trees; but from the time of year, and

her so perseveringly returning to the spot, he felt convinced that

her nest was not far off. Ineffectual, however, was every search. At

length, one morning he was lucky enough to remark that something fell

from her. He hunted close in that direction,--found the nest, and the

young ones regaling on a snipe whose remains were still warm; evidently

the identical bird she had most adroitly dropped from a considerable

height into the middle of her hungry brood. It would have been very

interesting to have observed how she managed on a windy day. Probably

she would have taken an easy shot by sweeping close to the trees. In

Germany much winged vermin is destroyed with the aid of a decoy horned

owl. The keeper having selected a favourable spot on a low hillock

where the bird is likely to be observed, drives an upright post into

the ground, the upper part of which is hollowed. The bird is placed on

a perch much shaped like the letter =T=. A string is attached to the

bottom of the perpendicular part, which is then dropped into the hollow

or socket. The armed keeper conceals himself in a loopholed sentry-box,

prepared of green boughs, at a suitable distance, amidst sheltering

foliage. His pulling the string raises the perch. The owl, to preserve

its balance, flutters its wings. This is sure to attract the notice of

the neighbouring magpies, hawks, crows, &c. Some from curiosity hover

about, or, still chattering and peering, alight on the neighbouring

trees (of course, standing invitingly within gun-shot); others, having

no longer any reverence for the bird of Wisdom in his present helpless

condition, wheel round and round, every moment taking a sly peck at

their fancied enemy, while their real foe sends their death-warrant

from his impervious ambuscade.

Talking of vermin, I am reminded that J----s H----d, an old gamekeeper

with whom I am acquainted, avers that one of his craft can hardly be

worth his salt unless he possesses "a regular good varmint of a dog."

It should be of a dark colour, not to betray so readily the movements

of his master to interested parties. He says he once owned one, a

bull-terrier, that was, to again quote the old man's words, "worth his

weight in gold to a gamekeeper;" that it was incredible the quantity

of ground-vermin, of every kind, the dog killed, which included snakes

and adders--destroyers of young birds of every sort, and it is said

of eggs (but this it is difficult to conceive, unless we imagine them

to be crushed in the same manner as the boa-constrictor murders his

victims, a supposition without a shadow of proof--small eggs, however,

might be swallowed whole),--that he was perpetually hunting, but never

noticed game--had an excellent nose, and, on occasions when he could

not run into the vermin, would unerringly lead his master to the hole

in the old bank, tree, or pile of fagots where it had taken refuge;

when, if it was a stoat or weasel, and in a place where the report of

a gun was not likely to disturb game, the keeper would bring him into

"heel," wait patiently awhile, and then, by imitating the cry of a

distressed rabbit, endeavour to entice the delinquent to come forth and

be shot. If this _ruse_ failed, H----d quickly prepared a trap that

generally sealed the fate of the destructive little creature. As the

dog retrieved all he caught, the old barn-door was always well covered

with _recent_ trophies. Old trophies afford no evidence of a keeper's

diligence.

The dog invariably accompanied his master during his rounds at night,

and had great talents for discovering any two-legged intruder. On

finding one he would quietly creep up, and then, by running round

and round him as if prepared every moment to make a spring, detain

him until joined by the keeper; all the while barking furiously and

adroitly avoiding every blow aimed at his sconce.[117]

He was moreover (but this has little to do with his sporting habits),

a most formidable enemy to dogs of twice his power; for he would

cunningly throw himself upon his back if overmatched, and take the same

unfair advantage of his unfortunate opponent which Polygars are trained

to do when they are attacking the wild hog (445).

I relate this story about H----d and his bull-terrier because few

men ever were so successful in getting up a good show of game on

a property. It was a favourite observation of his that it was not

game,--it was vermin, that required looking after; that these did

more injury than the largest gang of poachers, as the depredations of

the latter could be stopped, but not those of the former. There are

few who, on reflection, will not agree with the old keeper. Stoats

are so bloodthirsty, that if one of them come across a brood of young

pheasants he will give each in succession a deadly gripe on the back

of the neck close to the skull, not to make any use of the carcasses,

but in the epicurean desire to suck their delicate brains. All who

are accustomed to "rabbiting" know that even tame ferrets evince the

same murderous propensities, and commit indiscriminate slaughter,

_apparently_ in the spirit of wanton destructiveness.

From all, however, that I have seen and heard, I fancy no animal so

much prevents the increase of partridges and pheasants, as the hooded

crow.

An intelligent man, C----s M----n (an admirable dresser of

salmon-flies), whose veracity I have no reason to distrust, assured

me that he had seen about the nest of a "hoodie" (as he called the

bird), the shells of not less than two hundred eggs, all nearly of the

partridge and pheasant. He told me that he once had an opportunity of

observing the clever proceedings of a pair of these marauders, bent

on robbing the nest on which a hen-pheasant was actually sitting. One

of the depredators by fluttering round her, and slily pecking at her

unprotected stern, at length so succeeded in irritating her, that she

got up to punish him. By a slow scientific retreat, he induced her to

pursue him for a few steps, thus affording his confederate, who had

concealed himself, the opportunity of removing certainly one egg,

perhaps two. By repetitions of this sham attack and retreat, the adroit

pilferers eventually managed to empty the nest.

The above mentioned man had been brought up as a gamekeeper in

Cumberland. He became an excellent trapper; and was afterwards employed

on an estate near the Cheviot Hills, where, in a short time, he got up

a decent stock of game by destroying the vermin. He found the grounds

swarming with "hoodies;" but it was not until their breeding season the

following spring, when he was favoured in his operations by a frost,

that he succeeded in capturing them in considerable numbers. On the

ground becoming hard, he, for nearly a fortnight, fed certain spots

on the banks of the Teviot with wood pigeons and rabbits, besides

any vermin that he contrived to shoot. By that time the "hoodies"

habitually resorted, without distrust, to those places for food. He

then set his traps baited with all such delicacies,--but he considered

a small rabbit, or a pigeon lying on its back with outstretched wings,

as the most tempting of his invitations; and it often happened that

he had scarcely disappeared before the click of the closing spring

apprised him of a capture. When his frequent success had rendered the

birds shy, he set his traps in the adjacent stream, covering their

sides with grass or rushes,--the attractive bait alone appearing above

the surface. For three reasons he regarded the banks of the river as

the best situation for his traps--he could, as just mentioned, conceal

them in the water on the birds becoming too suspicious--secondly,

streams are much resorted to by the "hoodie," who searches diligently

for any chance food floating on the water,--and lastly, the rooks,

of which there were many in that part of the country, from naturally

hunting inland, the reverse of the "hoodie," were the less likely to

spring his traps.

From the short, fuller neck,--the head bent peeringly downwards,--but,

above all, from the hawk-like movements of the wing, the sportsman will

be able to distinguish the hooded-crow from the rook at a moment when

he may be too distant to observe the black and more hooked bill,--and

never let him spare. He should be suspicious of every bird he sees

crossing and re-crossing a field,--in reality hunting it with as

regular a beat as a pointer's.

M----n killed a great many stoats and weasels with _unbaited_ traps.

As it is the habit of these little animals, when hunting a hedge-row,

to prefer running through a covered passage to turning aside, he used,

where the ground favoured him by slightly rising, to cut a short drain,

about a foot in breadth, and rather less in depth, parallel and close

to the hedge, covering it with the sods he had removed. At the bottom

of these drains he fixed his traps, as soon as the animals became

accustomed to the run, and rarely failed in securing every member of

the weasel family which had taken up its abode in the vicinity. The

best description of hutch-trap (which many prefer to the gin-trap) is

made entirely of wire, excepting the bottoms. All appears so light and

airy that little suspicion is awakened. The doors fall on anything

running over the floor. Of course, this trap is baited unless set in a

run. An enticing bait is _drawn_ towards it from several distant points.

To many keepers it _ought_ to be of much advantage to read Colquhoun's

advice on trapping, appended to "The Moor and the Loch."

NOTE TO 407.--_Rearing Pheasants._--_Cantelo._--_Pheasantries._--_Mr.

Knox._

With respect to rearing pheasants under a barn-door hen, he observed

that they required _meat_ daily. He said that he had been in the habit

of shooting rabbits for those he had brought up, and of giving them the

boiled flesh when cut up into the smallest pieces, mixed with their

other food. He remarked, farther, that the chicks ought to be allowed

to run upon the grass at _dawn_ of day--which was seldom regularly

done, such early rising being at times not equally congenial to the

taste of all the parties concerned.

The treatment he recommended seems reasonable, for those who have

watched the habits of pheasants must have remarked that, immediately

upon quitting their roosts, they commence searching in the moist grass

for food (greatly to the benefit of the farmer), and do not resort to

the corn-fields until after the dew is off the ground, and the rising

sun has warned the grubs, slugs, worms, and caterpillars to seek

concealment.

Ornithologists, and men who have studied the subject, are agreed that

partridges in a yet larger degree benefit the agriculturalist by

picking up, during the greater part of the year, myriads of worms and

insects; besides consuming immense quantities of weeds and their seeds.

They rival the ill-used mole in the number of wire-worm they destroy.

These facts have been incontrovertibly proved by an examination of the

crops of the birds at all seasons.

I am not wishing to fight any battles for hares and rabbits. They do

great mischief,--but in fairness it must be said for the hare, that

he commits far less waste and havoc than the other. A rabbit will

wander from turnip to turnip, nibbling a bit from each, whereby the

air is admitted[118] and the whole root destroyed; whereas a hare, if

undisturbed, will sit down before one head, and not move until she has

devoured the whole of its contents, merely leaving a rind not much

thicker than an egg-shell. It is, however, undeniable that both of them

do much mischief to young plantations at all seasons of the year, and

they will even eat the bark off, and so kill some kinds of full-grown

trees, when snow is on the ground and food scarce.

To the health of many, usually considered only grain-feeding birds,

a certain portion of animal food appears essential. It is not solely

for grain that the common fowl scrapes the dung-hill. Throw a bone

of a cooked brother or sister to a brood of chickens confined in

a poultry-yard, and see with what avidity they will demolish the

remains of their defunct relative. Fowls never fatten on board ship;

_occasionally_ owing to want of gravel,--_constantly_ to want of

animal food. In a long voyage a bird that dies in a coop is often

found by "Billyducks"[119] half eaten up; and it is questionable

whether a sickly companion be not occasionally sacrificed by his

stronger associates to appease their natural craving for flesh. In

the West Indies the accidental upsetting of an old sugar-cask in a

farm-yard, and its scattering forth a swarm of cock-roaches, sets all

the feathered tribe in a ferment. The birds that had been listlessly

sauntering about, or standing half-asleep in the friendly shade,

suddenly seem animated with the fury of little imps,--and, influenced

by a taste _in every way_ repugnant to our feelings, with outstretched

necks and fluttering wings race against each other for possession of

the offensive, destructive insects, evincing in the pursuit an agility

and a rapidity of movement of which few would imagine them to be

capable.

[Illustration: 'FOUL' FEEDING.]

The keeper just spoken of used to rear his pheasants within doors, or

rather in an outhouse, the floor of which was in part covered with

sods of turf,--but I think J----s T----n, another of the craft whom I

know well, pursues a better and far less troublesome plan. He selects

a piece of clover[120] facing the south, and sheltered from the north

and east winds by a contiguous small copse which he feels assured can

harbour no destructive vermin. On this grass-plat, if the weather is

fine, he places the common barn-door hens,--each with her brood the

moment they are hatched,--under separate small coops. Two or three

boards run from each coop, forming a temporary enclosure, which is

removed in about a week on the little inmates gaining strength. If he

has any fear of their being carried off by hawks, &c., he fixes a net

overhead. The hens had sat on the eggs in an outhouse.

The first food given to the chicks is soaked bread,--and white of

eggs cut up fine. The colour (is not that a bull?) catches their eye,

which is the alleged reason for all their food being given to them

white. Ants' nests are procured for them,--of the red ant first,--of

the larger kind, when the chicks become so strong that the insects

cannot injure them--later in the season, wasps' nests. When there is

a difficulty in procuring any of these nests, curd is often given;

but should it become sour, as frequently happens in hot weather, it

is likely to occasion dysentery,[121] therefore oatmeal porridge made

with milk is considered a safer diet. This is eagerly picked up when

scattered about, sprinkled as it were,--and the weaker chicks are thus

enabled to secure a fair share. T----n breeds a quantity of maggots for

them,--and at no expense,--in the adjacent copse. Whatever vermin he

kills (whether winged or four-footed) he hangs up under a slight awning

as a protection from the rain. On the flesh decaying the maggots drop

into the box placed underneath to receive them. The insects soon become

clean, if sand and bran is laid at the bottom of the box, and it is an

interesting sight to see the excited little birds eagerly hurrying from

all quarters to the grass-plat on the keeper striking the tray with his

knuckles to invite them to partake of some choice maggots, spread out

on sanded boards.

If a piece of carrion is placed under a wire netting near the coops,

the chicks will feed with avidity on the flies it attracts.

Change of food is beneficial:--therefore, boiled barley or rice, is

often substituted, or oatmeal, or Indian-corn meal,--mixed with the

flesh of boiled rabbits.

Saucers of clean water are placed about. Water in a dirty state is

very injurious. It is not of any depth, lest the chicks should wet

their feathers when standing in it. Occasionally iron saucers are used,

ingeniously designed on the ridge and furrow plan. The ridges are so

little apart, that the chicks can insert no more than their heads into

the furrows. As cleanliness must in all things be preserved, the coops

are shifted a few feet aside twice a day.

The chicks soon quit the hens to roost in the shrubs, which afford

welcome shade during the mid-day heat; but the imprisoned matrons are

still useful, as their plaintive call prevents the chicks from becoming

irreclaimable truants. As they have always the opportunity of running

in the grass and copse, where they find seeds and insects, they quickly

become independent, and learn to forage for themselves,--yet when fully

grown up they are not so likely to stray away as birds who have been

more naturally reared, and who have been made wanderers even in their

infancy. This is a great advantage.

That the chicks may come upon fresh ground for seeds and insects, the

situation of the coops may be occasionally changed. If liable to be

attacked by vermin at night, a board can be fixed in front of each coop.

Partridges may be reared by the same means. But instances are rare of

their laying while in a state of captivity.

That the young birds may be able to rid their bodies of vermin, they

should be provided with small heaps of sand protected from rain, and

dry earth, in which they will gladly rub themselves.

If you design rearing pheasants annually, always keep a few of the tame

hens and a cock at home. By judicious management these will supply a

large quantity of eggs for hatching,--eggs that you can ensure, when in

their freshest state, being placed under barn-door hens. Keep the eggs

in a cool place. I cannot believe that you will ever be guilty--for it

is guilt, great guilt--of the sin of _purchasing_ eggs. "Buyers make

thieves,"--and one sneaking, watching, unwinged pilferer on two legs

would do more mischief in the month of May than dozens of magpies or

hooded crows.

Pheasants so soon hunt for their own subsistence, that they are brought

to maturity at less expense than common fowls.

Since the publication of the second edition, I have had an opportunity

of talking to Mr. Cantelo, the clever inventor of the novel hatching

machine, whereby (following nature's principle) heat is imparted only

to the upper surface of eggs. He annually rears a large quantity of all

kinds of poultry, besides partridges and pheasants, and I believe no

one in England is so experienced in these matters.

He found it best not to give food to any kind of chicks for the two

first days after they were hatched. As they would not all break the

shell together, it is probable that in a state of nature many of them

would be for, at least, this period under the hen before she led them

forth to feed. To young turkeys and pheasants he gave no food for three

days. They would then eat almost anything voraciously, whereas, when

fed sooner, they become dainty and fastidious.

He recommends that the lean of raw beef, or any meat (minced fine, as

if for sausages) be given to partridge or pheasant chicks, along with

their other food,[122] or rather before their other food, and only in

certain quantities; for if they are fed too abundantly on what they

most relish, they are apt to gorge themselves, and they will seldom

refuse meat, however much grain they may have previously eaten. He said

that they should be liberally dieted, but not to repletion,--that once

a day they should be sensible of the feeling of hunger.

It certainly is most consonant to nature, that the flesh given to the

chicks should not be cooked; and Mr. Cantelo observed that it would

be immediately found on trial, that young birds prefer that which is

undressed,--nay, that which has a bloody appearance.

He considers maggots (gentles) an admirable diet, and he gave me a

valuable hint about them. This is, that they be fattened on untainted

meat, placed in the sand-box into which they fall. The pieces of meat

will soon be drilled like a honey-comb, and the little crawlers,

by becoming in a day or two large and fat, will prove a far more

nourishing diet than when given in the attenuated state to which they

are commonly reduced, by the present starving process of cleansing.

Mr. Cantelo has remarked that guinea-birds require food at an earlier

period after they are hatched than any other sort of chick,--and that

they and ducklings eat most meat,--turkey-poultry least.

Wet is injurious to all chickens (the duck-tribe excepted); and when

the hen, from being confined, cannot lead her brood astray, they will,

of themselves, return to her coop on finding the grass too damp.

Mr. Cantelo is strongly of opinion, that all diseases to which infant

birds are liable are contagious. He advises, in consequence, that the

moment any one of the brood is attacked with diarrhoea, sore eyes, or

sneezing, it be instantly separated from the others.

He considers all chickens safe from ordinary diseases on their gaining

their pen-feathers.

He has found that _nest_ eggs, not sat on for twelve hours, do not lose

their vitality. This shows that eggs taken by mowers should not be

hastily thrown away, in consequence of a considerable delay unavoidably

occurring before they can be placed under a hen to complete their

hatching.

Pheasants sit about five days longer than common fowls.

Mr. Cantelo recommends that eggs sent from a distance be packed in

oats. He had succeeded in hatching some he had kept, as an experiment,

upwards of two months in a temperate atmosphere, _turning them daily_.

This continued vitality is, however, seldom a consideration as regards

pheasants; for the earlier in the season the birds can be produced the

better. It is a great advantage to have five months' growth and feed in

them by the first of October.

Mr. Knox, in his interesting work on "Game-birds and Wildfowl," has

given some good advice about the rearing and preservation of pheasants.

I will make some extracts from it, and, I think, many would do well to

read the whole book.

With respect to a pheasantry for procuring eggs, he is of opinion that

in March,--the time when the cocks begin to fight,--the enclosure

containing the stock of birds should be divided, by high hurdles, or

wattles, into partitions, so that each cock may be told off with three

hens into a distinct compartment. He advises that no harem should

be greater in a state of confinement. His opportunities for forming

a correct judgment have probably been greater than mine; but I must

observe that I have known of ladies, kept in such small seraglios,

being worried to death. "The larger the compartments," he says, "the

better;" "a heap of bushes and a mound of dry sand in each;" an

attendant to visit them once (and but once) a day, to take in the food

of "barley, beans, peas, rice, or oats; boiled potatoes, Jerusalem

artichokes, and Swedish turnips;"[123] and to remove whatever eggs may

have been laid during the preceding twenty-four hours.

The accidental destruction of the net overhanging Mr. Knox's

pheasantry, and the escape of the cocks, led to his ascertaining a fact

of much importance; viz. that pinioned hens (one wing amputated at the

carpal joint--"the wounds soon healed") kept in an unroofed enclosure,

near a cover, into which (what are called) "tame-bred pheasants" have

been turned, will always attract sufficient mates--mates in a more

healthy state than confined birds,--and that the eggs will be more

numerous, and unusually productive.

I can easily imagine that such matrimonial alliances are sure to be

formed wherever the opportunity offers; and if I were establishing a

pheasantry, I would adopt the plan Mr. Knox recommends, unless withheld

by the fear that more than one cock might gain admittance to the hens;

for I am aware of facts which incline me to think, that, in such

instances, the eggs may be unserviceable. At a connexion's of mine,

where the poultry-yard lies close to a copse, hybrid chickens have

often been reared--the offspring of barn-door hens and cock-pheasants

_not tame-bred_.

Mr. Knox elsewhere observes, that the hen-pheasants kept in confinement

should be tame-bred; that is, be "birds which have been hatched and

reared under domestic hens, as those which are netted, or caught, in a

wild state, will always prove inefficient layers." "About the fourth

season a hen's oviparous powers begin to decline, although her maternal

qualifications, in other respects, do not deteriorate until a much

later period. It is, therefore, of consequence to enlist, occasionally,

a few recruits, to supply the place of those females who have completed

their third year, and who then may be set at large in the preserves."

Of course, not those birds who have had the forehand of a wing

amputated.

Talking of ants' eggs, which Mr. Knox terms "the right hand of the

keeper" in rearing pheasant chicks--it is the first food to be given to

them--Mr. Knox says, "Some persons find it difficult to separate the

eggs from the materials of the nest. The simplest mode is, to place as

much as may be required--ants, eggs, and all--in a bag or light sack,

the mouth of which should be tied up. On reaching home, a large white

sheet should be spread on the grass, and a few green boughs placed

round it on the inside, over which the outer edge of the sheet should

be lightly turned; this should be done during sunshine. The contents

of the bag should then be emptied into the middle, and shaken out

so as to expose the eggs to the light. In a moment, forgetting all

considerations of personal safety, these interesting little insects set

about removing their precious charge--the cocoons--from the injurious

rays of the sun, and rapidly convey them under the shady cover afforded

by the foliage of the boughs near the margin of the sheet. In less

than ten minutes the work will be completed. It is only necessary then

to remove the branches; and the eggs, or cocoons, may be collected by

handfuls, unencumbered with sticks, leaves, or any sort of rubbish."

Mr. Knox goes on to say, that "green tops of barley, leeks, boiled

rice, Emden groats, oatmeal, &c.," are excellent diet for the chicks,

but that this kind of food is "almost always given at too early a

period. In a state of nature, their food, for a long time, would be

wholly insectile." "Now, as it is not in our power to procure the

quantity and variety of small insects and larvæ which the mother-bird

so perseveringly and patiently finds for them, we are obliged to

have recourse to ants' eggs, as easily accessible, and furnishing

a considerable supply of the necessary sort of aliment in a small

compass."

"When the chicks are about a week or ten days old, Emden groats and

coarse Scotch oatmeal may be mixed with the ants' eggs; and curds,

made from fresh milk, with alum, are an excellent addition. If ants'

nests cannot be procured in sufficient quantities, gentles should

occasionally be given."

When more wasps' nests are obtained than are required for immediate

use, "it will be necessary to bake them for a short time in an oven.

This will prevent the larvæ and nymphs from coming to maturity,--in

fact, kill them--and the contents of the combs will keep for some weeks

afterwards. Hempseed, crushed and mingled with oatmeal, should be given

them when about to wean them from an insect diet. Hard boiled eggs,

also, form a useful addition, and may be mixed, for a long time, with

their ordinary farinaceous food."

"Young pheasants are subject to a kind of diarrhoea, which often proves

fatal. If the disease be taken in time, boiled milk and rice, in lieu

of any other diet, will generally effect a cure. To these chalk may

be added, to counteract the acidity which attends this complaint; and

should the symptoms be very violent, a small quantity of alum, as an

astringent."

This treatment appears reasonable. Many consider rice a judicious diet

in such cases; and I know of a surgeon's giving boiled milk with great

success, in the West Indies, to patients suffering from diarrhoea.

"But the most formidable disease from which the young pheasant

suffers is that known by the name of 'the gapes:'--so termed from

the frequent gaping efforts of the bird to inhale a mouthful of air.

Chickens and turkeys are equally liable to be affected by it; and

it may be remarked, that a situation which has been used, for many

successive seasons, as a nursery ground, is more apt to be visited

with this plague, than one which has only recently been so employed.

Indeed, I have observed that it seldom makes its appearance on a lawn

or meadow during the first season of its occupation; and, therefore,

when practicable, it is strongly to be recommended, that fresh ground

should be applied to the purpose every year: and when this cannot be

done, that a quantity of common salt should be sown broadcast over the

surface of the earth, after the birds have left it in the autumn."

He elsewhere describes the gapes as that "dreadful scourge, which,

like certain diseases that affect the human subject, seems to have

been engendered and fostered by excessive population within a limited

district."

"Dissection has proved that the latent cause of this malady is a minute

worm of the genius _fasciola_, which is found adhering to the internal

part of the windpipe, or trachea." Then Mr. Knox explains how this worm

may be destroyed; (and only by such means,--the most delicate operator

being unable to extract it without materially injuring the young

bird)--viz. by fumigating with tobacco-smoke, according to the method

(which he fully describes) recommended by Colonel Montagu. If the worm

is not destroyed, the death of the bird ensues "by suffocation from the

highly inflamed state of the respiratory apparatus."

I once kept many guinea-birds when abroad; and I am now convinced that

I should have succeeded in rearing a far greater number, had I adopted

more closely the mode of feeding, &c., here recommended for young

pheasants.

In July, '57, I saw in a large clover field at Sandling, East Kent, 820

pheasant chicks which had been reared by M----n under sixty-six common

hens. It was a very interesting sight. I accompanied him round all the

coops. They stood about twenty paces apart, and I could not detect a

single bird with a drooping wing or of sickly appearance. He told me

most positively that he had not lost one by disease, but a few had been

trodden under foot by careless, awkward hens, and, what seems curious,

some few chicks on quitting the shell had been intentionally killed by

the very hens which had hatched them. A hatching hen will sometimes

thus destroy ducklings,--but these are far more unlike her natural

progeny than are pheasant chicks. M----n found that game-fowls make the

best mothers--Cochin-china the worst. He has a prejudice,--how doctors

differ! against maggots and ants' nests. However, he has a right to his

notions, for he lost hardly any birds in the year '56, out of the 400

and upwards that broke the shell. He devotes himself to what, with

him, is a labour of love. He has great, and just pride in his success.

He maintains that pheasants can be reared cheaper than barn-door

fowls, wherever there are woods, as the chicks find their own food

at such an early age. The rearing of the birds that I saw and about

fifty partridge-chicks, occupied the whole of his time and that of an

assistant. There was also a boy to cook, &c. The chicks were fed every

two hours throughout the day with a mixture of hard boiled eggs,[124]

curds, bread-crumbs, rape and canary seed. The shutter of each hutch

doing duty as a tray for the food. After the chicks had fed M----n made

his rounds, and scraped into a pot all that was not consumed, being

careful that nothing was left to get sour. He gave a small portion of

these remains to the imprisoned matrons. He feeds the chicks liberally,

yet calculates to a great nicety what will be eaten, for on every

shutter a portion, but a very small portion of food was left. Water,

kept in earthenware pans made with concentric circles on the ridge

and furrow system, was placed at intervals between the hutches. Many

times a day he moved the several coops a few feet to fresh ground.

At night when all the chicks have joined the hens he fastens the

shutters, and does not remove them in the morning until the dew is

off the grass. How entirely is this practice opposed to the advice of

the Yorkshireman given at the commencement of this note! and yet it

might be possible to reconcile the contradictory recommendations by

supposing that as soon as the young birds have nearly reached maturity

they are allowed to search for insects at the earliest dawn. M----n's

last location for the hutches would be in the centre of the landlord's

property, and they would not be taken away until the hens were quite

abandoned by the young pheasants--which in general would be at the end

of August. Differing much from Mr. Knox, it was M----n's practice to

keep as many as five hens with one cock for the purpose of obtaining

eggs. I observed that some hutches possessed a disproportionate number

of inmates. This had arisen from the hutches having been placed in

too close proximity before the chicks had the sense to know their

respective foster-mothers.

Remarking once after a good battue in cover upon the fine condition

of the birds spread in a long array on the lawn for the inspection of

the ladies, I was told that the keeper greatly attributed their size

and weight to keeping ridge and furrow pans near their feeding places

constantly filled with bark-water. He used to boil from a quarter to

half a pound of oak-bark in two gallons of water until it was reduced

to half the quantity. After once tasting it the pheasants become fond

of it, their natural instinct telling them the advantages of the tonic.

A cross with the true China makes the young birds hardy and wild. The

brilliancy of the plumage is much increased but not the size of the

birds. However long Chinese pheasants may be kept in confinement they

will be alarmed at the sight of strangers.

NOTE TO 537.--_Setters._--_Poachers._--_Keepers._--_Netting

Partridges._--_Bloodhounds._--_Night-dogs._

It is far more easy to get a well broken pointer than a well broken

setter; but times may change, for clean farming, the sale of game,

poaching, and poisoning of seed-grain, are now carried on to such an

extent, and the present game-laws are so inefficacious, that, probably,

our children will much prefer the hard-working setter to the pointer.

What an encouragement to villany is it that poulterers will give a

higher price for game that appears perfectly uninjured, than for what

has been shot; and _seldom ask questions_! It is a pity that the sale

of such game cannot be rendered illegal. The destructive net sweeps off

whole coveys at a time. The darkest night affords no protection, for

the lantern attached to the dog's neck sufficiently shows when he is

pointing at birds. A friend of mine in Kent, some years ago, wanted a

partridge in order to break in a young bitch. Under a solemn promise of

secrecy he was taken to an attic in an old house, not far from London,

where he saw more than a hundred birds, ready for the market against

the approaching first of September, running among the sheaves of corn

standing in the corners of the room. To prevent the employment of the

net, it has been recommended that the fields frequented by partridges

should be staked, according to the method successfully followed in

some preserved streams: but there are French gamekeepers who adopt a

far less troublesome, and more effective plan. They themselves net the

coveys at night, as soon as the harvest is collected, and turn them out

again on the same ground the next evening, in the fullest confidence

that the birds are henceforth safe from the poacher's net: for, however

carefully they may have been handled, they will have been so alarmed,

that their distrust and wariness will effectually prevent their being

again caught napping. Talking of poaching, I am led to observe that one

well-trained bloodhound would be more useful in suppressing poaching

than half-a-dozen under-keepers; for the fear poachers naturally

entertain of being tracked to their homes at dawn of day, would more

deter them from entering a cover, than any dread of being assailed at

night by the boldest armed party. Even as compared with other dogs,

the sensitiveness of the olfactory nerves of the bloodhound appears

marvellous. Let one of pure breed but once take up the scent of a man,

and he will hold it under the most adverse circumstances. No cross

scents will perplex him.

At two o'clock on a frosty December morning in '44, when the wind blew

bitterly cold from the east, Mr. B----e, of S----d, Warwickshire, was

called up by the keepers of a neighbour, Mr. W----n, and informed that

some poachers were shooting pheasants in a plantation belonging to Mr.

B----e, whose keepers were on the look-out in a different direction.

They and Mr. W----n's had agreed to work in concert, and mutually

assist each other.

Mr. B----e instantly dressed, and went out with his brother (Captain

B----), and the butler, making a party of eight, including Mr. W----n's

keepers. They took with them a couple of trained bloodhounds in long

cords, a regular night-dog, and a young bloodhound which had broken

loose, and, unsolicited, had volunteered his services.

[Illustration: "One well-trained bloodhound will be more useful."--Page

344.]

On entering the plantation, it was found that the poachers, having

become alarmed, had made off. Two of the keepers remained to watch. The

bloodhounds were laid on the scent. They took it up steadily, and the

rest of the party followed in keen pursuit. As the poachers had not

been seen, their number was unknown, but it was supposed to be about

six from the report of the guns.

Notwithstanding the cold east wind and sharp frost the hounds hunted

correctly, for about three miles, across fields, and along foot-paths

and roads, until they came to a wood of three hundred acres. They took

the scent into the heart of it, evincing great eagerness. Here the hunt

became most exciting, for the poachers were heard in the front crashing

through the branches. A council of war was held, which unluckily ended,

as many councils of war do, in coming to a wrong decision. It was

resolved to divide forces, and endeavour to head the enemy. Captain

B----e, two men and one of the old hounds, turned down a ride towards

which the poachers seemed to be inclining; while the others continued

the direct chase. The poachers, however, soon broke cover, but had not

run across many fields ere they were overtaken. The clear, bright moon

showed eight well-armed men,--rather a disproportionate force for the

attacking three. A fight ensued. The young hound and the watch-dog

were shot. Mr. B----e was lamed, and his two men being a good deal

hurt, the poachers triumphed and resumed their flight. On Captain

B----e rejoining the baffled party the pursuit was renewed for nine

miles,--the dogs carrying the scent the whole way into Coventry, where

they were stopped.

It was now half-past seven. Many early risers were about the streets;

the police offered to point out the poachers, provided their

identity could be sworn to. The hounds were stopped. Two men were

apprehended--(a third escaped from the police)--were lodged in jail,

and subsequently convicted and sentenced to eighteen months' hard

labour. As they had not been seen until the time of the scuffle, which

took place fully five miles from Mr. B----e's plantation, the only

evidence to prove they had been poaching there was furnished in the

undeviating pursuit of the hounds. The remainder of the gang fled the

country.

A farmer, several years ago, sent to the same Mr. B----e to say, that

a sheep had been killed and carried off in the night. Six hours, to a

certainty,--probably many more,--had elapsed since the animal had been

stolen before Mr. B----e could put the only hound he had with him on

the scent. The dog, which was loose, hunted very slowly to a barn where

the hidden skin was found; and afterwards, without any hesitation,

held on the scent from the barn to the residence of a respectable

person so wholly beyond all suspicion that the hound was called off.

It was so late in the day, and along paths so much frequented, that

it was thought the dog must have been hunting other footsteps than

those of the real culprit. Mr. B----e at that moment was not aware

that the respectable householder had taken in a lodger. This lodger,

it subsequently appeared, was the thief, and in bed at the house at

the time. Did not the Squire get well laughed at in all the adjacent

beer-shops for his softness! However, this hunt, and another not very

dissimilar under the head-keeper, effectually suppressed sheep-stealing

in that neighbourhood.

The principal initiatory lesson for a bloodhound pup is to teach him

to "road" well, as described in 43. He should, too, be perfected in

following quietly at "heel." When commencing to teach him to follow

the footsteps of the runner sent on in advance, it will be your aim

to make the dog enjoy the scent and carry it on with eagerness.

Therefore, that the man's shoes may prove attractive, have them lightly

rubbed with tainted meat (or blood). The savoury application may be

progressively diminished in intensity, until at length the pup is

guided only by the natural effluvia escaping from the man's pores.

Whenever the dog gets up to him, let it be a rule that he instantly

reward the animal liberally with some acceptable delicacy.

After a time the fleetest and most enduring runner should be selected,

and the interval between the time of his starting, and the moment when

the hound is laid upon the scent, should be by degrees increased,

until, at length, an hour and more will intervene.

The first lessons should be given early in the morning, when the dew is

not quite off the grass; and the runner should be instructed to take

a direction not likely to be crossed by others. Gradually the hound

will be made to follow the scent under less favourable circumstances,

as respects the state of the ground and the chance of the trail being

interfered with.

It will be obvious that the example of an old well-trained hound would

be very beneficial to the pup; and, if it can be so managed, he should

not be thrown upon his own unaided resources, until he has acquired a

tolerable notion of his business.

A young dog that works too fast must be brought to pursue at a pace

regulated by your signals (end of IV. of 141). That completes his

education.

At night bloodhounds are generally held with a light cord, which

restraint appears to lessen their wish to give tongue. Of course, they

are checked if they do, that the poachers may not be warned of the

pursuit.

A trained bloodhound will seldom endeavour to carry on the scent he has

brought into a road, until he has tried the adjacent gates, gaps, and

stiles.

Bloodhounds not confined are peaceable and, _apparently_, cowardly.

They will rarely attack, unless provoked; but let them be once

roused by a blow, and they become extremely savage. They also soon

become savage if chained up, when they evince but little affection

or obedience. Should they, by accident, get loose, they will more

willingly allow a woman or a child to re-chain them than a man.

Bull-dogs have good noses. I have known of the cross between them and

the mastiff being taught to follow the scent of a man almost as truly

as a bloodhound. The dog I now particularly allude to was muzzled

during the day when accompanying the keeper; and the appearance of

the formidable-looking animal, and the knowledge of his powers, more

effectually prevented egg-stealing than would the best exertions

of a dozen watchers. He was the terror of all the idle boys in the

neighbourhood. Every lad felt assured that, if once "Growler" were put

upon his footsteps, to a certainty he would be overtaken, knocked down,

and detained until the arrival of the keeper. The dog had been taught

thus:--As a puppy he was excited to romp and play with the keeper's

children. The father would occasionally make one of them run away,

and then set the pup on him. After a time he would desire the child

to hide behind a tree, which gradually led the pup to seek by nose.

An amicable fight always ensued on his finding the boy; and, as the

pup grew stronger, and became more riotous than was agreeable, he was

muzzled, but still encouraged to throw down the child. It is easy to

conceive how, in a dog so bred, the instincts of nature eventually led

to his acting his part in this game more fiercely when put upon the

footsteps of a stranger.

INDEX.

A.

Accomplishments or Refinements:--

Distinguishing dog-whistle, 501.

Dog to back the gun, 509.

-- to head running birds, 525.

-- to hunt without gun, 522.

-- to retreat and resume point, 512.

Regular retrievers to beat, 550.

Setter to retrieve, 536.

Water-retriever to fetch cripples, 553.

Affection an incentive, &c., 167, 259, 497, 559.

-- gained by first attentions, 167.

Age for education, 15, 62, 132.

Age of game, 7 _n._ 236 _n._ 338 _n._

Albania, cock-shooting in, 84.

Anecdotes. _See_ Instances.

Antelope--sagacity of fawn, 509 _n._

Antelopes and cheeta, 284.

Ants' nests, Guinea-chicks, 471 _n._

Arnica, lotion for bruises, 566.

Assistant with wild dog, 282.

Australia, kangaroo-hunting, 469.

Author's writing, cause of, 589.

Axioms, 274, 359.

B.

Back turned brings dog away, 223.

"Backing" how taught, 350, 353.

-- initiatory lesson in, 50.

-- the gun, 509.

"Bar," for wild dog, 299.

Bark of Oak--tonic for pheasants--end of note to 407.

Barbuda--Creole and cur, 471.

Beagles shot over, 80.

Bear at perfumer's, 461.

Bears killed in India, 444.

"Beat," a, range taught, 132, 133, 171, 175-179.

-- bad, hard to cure, 283.

-- good, difficult, but invaluable, 189.

-- Herbert's opinion, 232.

-- without gun, 522.

-- of five or six dogs, 245-248.

-- of four dogs, 244.

-- of three, 242, 243.

-- of two, 238-240.

-- taught following old dog, 191.

Beaters in India, 446.

Beckford, Education of buckhound, 558, 559.

-- Gentlemen hunting hounds, 413.

"Beckon," why useful signal, 37.

-- and "Heel," differ, 44.

Beef, heating in hot climates, 569.

Begging, how taught, 149.

Bell rang by dog, 417.

Bells, to rope of beaters in India, 446.

-- put on dogs, 63, 74, 401.

Beltings of wood, spaniels, 65.

"Ben," a capital retriever, 121.

Bermuda, militia, 200 _n._

Best dogs err, concise hints, 383.

Bird dead, loss of discourages dog, 312.

-- dead, seized and torn by dog, 321.

-- shot on ground, steadies dog, 340.

-- shot, search for, 266, 307, 309, 317. 322, 544.

-- shot, signal heel, 269.

-- winged, shoot on ground, 308.

Birds, lie well, dog winding them, 186.

-- lie, induced to, 401.

-- old, cunning of, 229, 232, 236.

-- wounded, scent differs, 545.

-- wild, intercepted, 384, 400, 525, 533.

-- wounded, first retrieved, 553.

-- wounded, make off towards covey, 544.

-- wounded, found evening, 316.

-- wounded, the search for, 266.

-- wounded, observed by dog, 113.

Bit for bloodsucker, 117.

Blackcock pointed three times, 289.

-- dog drawing on his first, 297.

Black too conspicuous a colour, 93.

Blacksmith shoeing kicker, 60.

Blind man, and Tweed-side spaniel, 385.

Blinking dead bird, 257.

-- from punishment, 165, 344.

Blinking, initiatory lessons prevent, 17.

B----k, Sir George, 481.

Bloodhounds, training of; poachers, 537 _n._ App.

Boar, wild; encounter with, 468.

Brace of dogs, sufficient if good, 137.

Break in dogs yourself, 3, 408, 409.

Breaker, qualifications required, 6.

-- one, better than two, 14.

Breakers in fault, not dogs, 493.

-- regular, displeased, 588.

-- hunt too many, 191, 362.

-- idle, dislike bold dogs, 198.

Breakers' accomplishments, 555.

"Breaking fence" prevented, 222.

Breeding and breaking, fetch money, 376.

-- in and in, bad, 279.

-- superior nose sought, 370.

Brougham's story of fox, of dog, 431 _n._

Buck-hound, Beckford's story of, 559.

Bull, strike horns, 283 _n._ App.

Bull-dogs, keepers, 546 _n._ App.

-- cross with, 137.

Bull-terrier, keeper's, 283 _n._ App.

Buying dogs. _See_ Purchasers.

C.

Calling constantly, injudicious, 148.

Cantelo on rearing birds, 407 _n._ App.

"Captain," Lord M----f's dog, 491.

Cards selected by "Munito," 414, 436.

"Care," signal for, 39.

Carrots, for horses, 10, 11, 33.

"Carrying" and "fetching," differ, 153.

-- how taught, 96, 109.

Cats and dogs returning home, 221.

"Caution," taught to fast dogs, 197.

-- in excess, 287;

-- cure for, 293.

Cautious and wild dog contrasted, 194.

-- dog, rarely too fast, 194.

Chain better than rope, 563.

Checkcord, 53, 54, 262, 282.

-- spike to, 25, 281, 335.

Cheeta and antelopes, 284.

-- how trained, 284 _n._

Child lost, fed by dog, 432.

China Pheasant, cross with, end of note to 407, page 343.

Circle wide when heading dog, 265.

Cirque National de Paris, 11.

Claws of dogs pared, 566 _n._

Clothes, dog sleeping on, 167 _n._

Clumber spaniels, 75.

Cock-shooting, 37, 84, 397.

Cocking, young man's pursuit, 72.

Cockroaches eaten by fowls, 407 _n._ App.

Collar, a light one on dog, 259.