FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN COMMENCED. RANGING.
124. A keeper nearly always breaks in his young dogs to "set," if their
ages permit it, on favorable days in Spring, when the partridges have
paired.[21] He gets plenty of points, and the birds lie well. But I cannot
believe it is the best way to attain great excellence, though the plan has
many followers: it does not cultivate the intelligence of his pupils, nor
enlarge their ideas by making them sensible of the object for which such
pains are taken in hunting them. Moreover, their natural ardor--a feeling
that it should be his aim rather to increase than weaken--is more or less
damped by having often to stand at game before they can be rewarded for
their exertions by having it killed to them,--it prevents, rather than
imparts, the zeal and perseverance for which Irish dogs are so remarkable.
Particularly ought a breaker, whose pupil is of nervous temperament, or
of too gentle a disposition, to consider well that the want of all
recompense for finding paired birds must make a timid dog far more likely
to become a "blinker," when he is checked for not pointing them, than when
he is checked for not pointing birds which his own impetuosity alone
deprives him of every chance of rapturously "touseling." The very fact
that "the birds lie well" frequently leads to mischief; for, if the
instructor be not very watchful, there is a fear that his youngsters may
succeed in getting too close to their game before he forces them to come
to a staunch point. A keeper, however, has but little choice--and it is
not a bad time to teach the back--if his master insists upon shooting over
the animals the first day of the season, and expects to find them what
some call "perfectly broken in." But I trust some of my readers have
nobler ends in view; therefore,
125. I will suppose your youngster to have been well grounded in his
initiatory lessons, and that you take him out when the crops are nearly
off the ground--by which time there will be few squeakers--on a fine cool
day in September,--alas! that it cannot be an August day on the moors,--to
show him birds for the first time. As he is assumed to be highly bred, you
may start in the confident expectation of killing partridges over him,
especially if he is a pointer. Have his nose moist and healthy. Take him
out when the birds are on the feed, and of an afternoon in preference to
the morning,--unless from an unusually dry season there be but little
scent,--that he may not be attracted by the taint of hares or rabbits.
Take him out alone, if he evince any disposition to hunt, which, at the
age we will presume him to have attained next season, we must assume that
he will do, and with great zeal. Be much guided by his temper and
character. Should he possess great courage and dash, you cannot begin too
soon to make him point. You should always check a wild dog in racing after
pigeons and small birds on their rising; whereas you should encourage a
timid dog--one who clings to "heel"--in such a fruitless but exciting
chase. The measures to be pursued with such an animal are fully detailed
in 111, 112.
126. I may as well caution you against adopting the foolish practice of
attempting to cheer on your dog with a constant low whistle, under the
mistaken idea that it will animate him to increased zeal in hunting. From
perpetually hearing the monotonous sound, it would prove as little of an
incentive to exertion as a continued chirrup to a horse; and yet if
habituated to it, your dog would greatly miss it whenever hunted by a
stranger. Not unregarded, however, would it be by the birds, to whom on a
calm day it would act as a very useful warning.
127. Though you have not moors, fortunately we can suppose your fields to
be of a good size. Avoid all which have recently been manured. Select
those that are large, and in which you are the least likely to find
birds, until his spirits are somewhat sobered, and he begins partly to
comprehend your instructions respecting his range. There is no reason why
he should not have been taken out a few days before this, _not to show him
birds_, but to have commenced teaching him how to traverse his ground.
Indeed, if we had supposed him of a sufficient age--111--he might by this
time be somewhat advanced towards a systematic beat. It is seeing birds
early that is to be deprecated, not his being taught how to range.
128. _Be careful to enter every field at the leeward_[22] side--about the
middle,--that he may have the wind to work against. Choose a day when
there is a breeze, but not a boisterous one. In a calm the scent is
stationary, and can hardly be found unless accidentally. In a gale it is
scattered to the four quarters.[23] You want not an undirected ramble,
but a judicious traversing beat under your own guidance, which shall leave
no ground unexplored, and yet have none twice explored.
129. Suppose the form of the field, as is usually the case, to approach a
parallelogram or square, and that the wind blows in any direction but
diagonally across it. On entering at the leeward side send the dog from
you by a wave of your hand or the word "On." You wish him, while you are
advancing up the middle of it, to cross you at right angles, say from
right to left,--then to run up-wind for a little, parallel to your own
direction, and afterwards to recross in front of you from left to right,
and so on until the whole field is regularly hunted. To effect this,
notwithstanding your previous preparatory lessons, you will have to show
him the way, as it were--setting him an example in your own person,--by
running a few steps in the direction you wish him to go--say to the
right,--cheering him on to take the lead. As he gets near the extremity of
his beat, when he does not observe you, he can steal a small advance in
the true direction of your own beat, which is directly up the middle of
the field meeting the wind. If perceiving your advance he turn towards
you, face him--wave your right hand to him, and, while he sees you, run on
a few paces in his direction--that is, _parallel_ to his true direction.
As he approaches the hedge--the one on your right hand, but be careful
that he does not get close to it, lest, from often finding game there, he
ultimately become a potterer and regular hedge hunter--face towards him,
and on catching his eye, wave your left arm. If you cannot succeed in
catching his eye, you must give one low whistle--the less you habituate
yourself to use the whistle, the less you will alarm the birds--study to
do all, as far as is practicable, by signals. You wish your wave of the
left arm to make the dog turn to the left--his head to the wind,--and that
he should run parallel to the side of the hedge for some yards--say from
thirty to forty--before he makes his second turn to the left to cross the
field; but you must expect him to turn too directly towards you on your
first signal to turn. Should he by any rare chance have made the turn--the
first one--correctly, and thus be hunting up-wind, on no account interrupt
him by making any signals until he has run up the distance you wish--the
aforesaid thirty or forty yards,--then again catch his eye, and, as
before--not now, however, faced towards him and the hedge, but faced
towards your true direction,--by a wave of the left arm endeavor to make
him turn to the left--across the wind. If, contrary to what you have a
right to suppose, he will not turn towards you on your giving a whistle
and wave of your hand, stand still, and continue whistling--eventually he
will obey. But you must not indulge in the faintest hope that all I have
described will be done correctly; be satisfied at first with an approach
towards accuracy; you will daily find an improvement, if you persevere
steadily. When you see that there is but little chance of his turning the
way you want, at once use the signal more consonant to his views, for it
should be your constant endeavor to make him fancy that he is always
ranging according to the directions of your hands. Be particular in
attending to this hint.
130. His past tuition--34--most probably will have accustomed him to watch
your eye for directions, therefore it is not likely, even should he have
made a wrong turn near the hedge--a turn down-wind instead of up-wind,
which would wholly have prevented the required advance parallel to the
hedge,--that he will cross in rear of you. Should he, however, do so,
retreat a few steps,--or face about, if he is far in the rear,--in order
to impress him with the feeling that all his work must be performed under
your eye. Animate him with an encouraging word as he passes. When he gets
near the edge to the left, endeavor, by signals--agreeably to the method
just explained--129--to make him turn to the--his--right, his head to the
wind, and run up alongside of it for thirty to forty yards, if you can
manage it, before he begins to recross the field, by making a second turn
to the right. If you could get him to do this, he would cross well in
advance of you.
131. Though most likely his turn--the first--the turn up-wind--will be too
abrupt--too much of an acute angle instead of the required right
angle,--and that consequently, in order to get ahead of you, he will have
to traverse the field diagonally, yet after a few trials it is probable he
will do so rather than not get in front of you. This would be better than
the former attempt--not obliging you to face about--express your approval,
and the next turn near the hedge may be made with a bolder sweep. Remember
your aim is, that no part be unhunted, and that none once commanded by his
nose should be again hunted. He ought to cross, say thirty yards in front
of you, but _much_ will depend upon his nose.
132. Nearly on every occasion of catching his eye, except when he is
running up-wind parallel to the hedge, give him some kind of signal. This
will more and more confirm him in the habit of looking to you, from time
to time, for orders, and thus aid in insuring his constant obedience.
After a while, judging by the way in which your face is turned, he will
know in what direction you propose advancing, and will guide his own
movements accordingly. Should he, as most probably he will for some time,
turn too sharply towards you when getting near the hedge, I mean at too
acute an angle, incline or rather face towards him. This, coupled with the
natural wish to range unrestrained, will make him hunt longer parallel to
the hedge, before he makes his second turn towards you.
133. You may at first strive to correct your dog's turning too abruptly
inwards--the first turn--by pushing on in your own person further ahead on
your own beat; but when he has acquired if merely the slightest idea of a
correct range, be most careful not to get in advance of the ground he is
to hunt; your doing so might habituate him to cross the field
diagonally--thereby leaving much of the sides of the fields unhunted,--in
order to get ahead of you; and, moreover, _you_ might spring birds you are
anxious _he_ should find. Should he, on the other hand, be inclined to
work too far upward before making his turn to cross the field, hang back
in your own person.
134. Though you may be in an unenclosed country, let him range at first to
no more than from seventy to eighty yards on each side of you. You can
gradually extend these lateral beats as he becomes conversant with his
business--indeed at the commencement rather diminish than increase the
distances just named, both for the length of the parallels and the space
between them. Do not allow the alluring title "a fine wide ranger" to
tempt you to let him out of leading strings. If he be once permitted to
imagine that he has a discretionary power respecting the best places to
hunt, and the direction and length of his beats, you will find it
extremely difficult to get him again well in hand. On the moors his range
must be far greater than on the stubbles, but still the rudiments must be
taught on this contracted scale or you will never get him to look to you
for orders. Do _you_ keep entire control over his beats; let _him_ have
almost the sole management of his drawing upon birds, provided he does not
puzzle, or run riot too long over an old haunt. Give him time, and after a
little experience his nose will tell him more surely than your judgment
can, whether he is working on the "toe" or "heel" of birds, and whether he
diverges from or approaches the strongest and most recent haunt--do not
flurry or hurry him, and he will soon acquire that knowledge.
135. As the powers of scent vary greatly in different dogs, the depth of
their turns--or parallels--ought to vary also, and it will be hereafter
for you to judge what distance between the parallels it is most
advantageous for your youngster ultimately to adopt in his general
hunting. The deeper its turns are, of course, the more ground you will
beat within a specified time. What you have to guard against is the
possibility of their being so wide that birds may be passed by unnoticed.
I should not like to name the distance within which good _cautious_ dogs
that carry their heads high will wind game on a favorable day.
136. If you design your pupil, when broken in, to hunt with a companion,
and wish both the dogs, as is usual, to cross you, you will, of course,
habituate him to make his sweeps--the space between the parallels--wider
than if you had intended him to hunt without any one to share his labors.
137. I need hardly warn you to be careful not to interrupt him whenever he
appears to be winding birds. However good his nose may be by nature, it
will not gain experience and discrimination unless you give him a certain
time to determine for himself whether he has really touched upon a faint
scent of birds, and whether they are in his front or rear, or gone away
altogether. Like every other faculty, his sense of smell will improve the
more it is exercised. But on the other hand, as I observed before, do not
let him continue puzzling with his nose close to the ground,--urge him
on,--make him increase his pace,--force him to search elsewhere, and he
will gradually elevate his head, and, catching the scent of other
particles, will follow up these with a nose borne aloft, unless he is a
brute not worth a twentieth part of the pains which you think of bestowing
upon him; for,
138. Besides the greatly decreased chance of finding them, birds that to a
certainty would become uneasy, and make off if pursued by a dog tracking
them, will often lie well to one who finds them by the wind. They are then
not aware that they are discovered, and the dog, from the information his
nose gives him, can approach them either boldly or with great wariness,
according as he perceives them to be more or less shy.
139. If, being unable to catch the dog's eye, you are forced to use the
whistle frequently, and he continues inattentive to it, notwithstanding
his previous tuition, stand still--make him lie down--by the word "drop,"
if he will not obey your raised left arm--go up to him--take hold of his
collar, and rate him, saying, "Bad, bad," cracking your whip over him--let
the whip be one that will crack loudly, not for present purposes, but
that, when occasion requires, he may hear it at a distance--and whistling
softly. This will show him--should you beat him, you would confuse his
ideas--that he is chidden for not paying attention to the whistle. Indeed,
whenever you have occasion to scold or punish him, make it a constant
rule, while you rate him, to repeat many times the word of command, or the
signal which he has neglected to obey. There is no other way by which you
will make him understand you _quickly_. You must expect that your young
dog will for some time make sad mistakes in his range;--but be not
discouraged. Doubtless there is no one thing,--I was going to say, that
there are no dozen things,--in the whole art of dog-breaking, which are so
difficult to attain, or which exact so much labor, as a high,
well-confirmed, systematic range. Nature will not assist you--you must do
it all yourself; but in recompense there is nothing so advantageous when
it is at length acquired. It will abundantly repay months of persevering
exertion. It constitutes the grand criterion of true excellence. Its
attainment makes a dog of inferior nose and action far superior to one of
much greater natural qualifications, who may be tomfooling about,
galloping backwards and forwards, sometimes over identically the same
ground, quite uselessly exerting his travelling powers; now and then,
indeed, arrested by the suspicion of a haunt, which he is not experienced
enough, or sufficiently taught, to turn to good account,--and occasionally
brought to a stiff point on birds accidentally found right under his nose.
It is undeniable, _coeteris paribus_, that the dog who hunts his ground
most according to rule must in the end find most game.
FOOTNOTES:
[21] In ordinary seasons immediately after St. Valentine's Day--before the
birds have made their nests. The first of September is the commencement of
partridge shooting in England, as the 26th of Oct. and the 1st of Nov. are
generally in America for quail.
All the breaking for partridge in this work, is applicable and must be
referred to quail in America. Grouse shooting on the moors in England is
applicable to our prairie shooting, and pheasant shooting to our ruffed
grouse shooting, when that may be had. The reader must, therefore,
transfer the months and seasons accordingly.--H.W.H.
[22] "Leeward"--a nautical phrase--here meaning the side towards which the
wind blows _from_ the field. If you entered elsewhere, the dog while
ranging would be tempted, from the natural bearing of his nose towards the
wind, to come back upon you, making his first turn inwards instead of
outwards.
[23] But, independently of these obvious reasons, scent is affected by
causes into the nature of which none of us can penetrate. There is a
contrariety in it that ever has puzzled, and apparently ever will puzzle,
the most observant sportsman--whether a lover of the chase or gun,--and
therefore, in ignorance of the doubtless immutable, though to us
inexplicable, laws by which it is regulated, we are contented to call it
"capricious." Immediately before heavy rain there frequently is none. It
is undeniable that moisture will at one time destroy it--at another time
bring it. That on certain days--in slight frost, for instance,--setters
will recognise it better than pointers, and, on the other hand, that the
nose of the latter will prove far superior after a long continuance of dry
weather, and this even when the setter has been furnished with abundance
of water--which circumstance pleads in favor of hunting pointers and
setters together. The argument against it, is the usual inequality of
their pace, and, to the eye of some sportsmen, the want of harmony in
their appearance. Should not this uncertainty respecting the recognition
of scent teach us not to continue hunting a good dog who is frequently
making mistakes, but rather to keep him at "heel" for an hour or two? He
will consider it a kind of punishment, and be doubly careful when next
enlarged. Moreover, he may be slightly feverish from overwork, or he may
have come in contact with some impurity,--in either of which cases his
nose would be temporarily out of order.