CHAPTER XI.

FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONCLUDED. BAR. LEG STRAP. SPIKE COLLAR.

202. After a few trials you will, I hope, be able to dispense with the peg

recommended in 194, and soon after with the checkcord also. But if your

dog possesses unusually high spirits, or if he travels over the ground at

a pace which obviously precludes his making a proper use of his nose, it

may be advisable to fasten to his collar a bar, something like a

diminutive splinter-bar, that it may, by occasional knocking against his

shins, feelingly admonish him to lessen his stride. If he gets it between

his legs and thus finds it no annoyance, attach it to both sides of his

collar from points near the extremities. One of his forelegs might

occasionally be passed through the collar; but this plan is not so good as

the other; nor as the strap on the hind leg--56. These means--to be

discarded, however, as soon as obedience is established--are far better

than the _temporary_ ascendancy which some breakers establish by low diet

and excessive work, which would only weaken his spirits and his bodily

powers, without eradicating his self will, or improving his intellect. You

want to force him, when he is in the highest health and vigor, to learn by

experience the advantage of letting his nose dwell longer on a feeble

scent.

203. I have made no mention of the spiked collar, because it is a brutal

instrument, which none but the most ignorant or unthinking would employ.

It is a leather collar, into which nails, much longer than the thickness

of the collar, have been driven, with their points projecting inwards. The

French spike-collar is nearly as severe. It is formed of a series of

wooden balls,--larger than marbles,--linked--about two and a half inches

apart--into a chain by stiff wires bent into the form of hooks. These

sharp pointed hooks punish cruelly when the checkcord is jerked.

204. We have, however, a more modern description of collar, which is far

less inhuman than either of those I have mentioned, but still I cannot

recommend its adoption, unless in extreme cases; for though not so

severely, it, likewise, punishes the unfortunate dog, more or less, by the

strain of the checkcord he drags along the ground: and it ought to be the

great object of a good breaker as little as is possible to fret or worry

his pupil, that all his ideas may be engaged in an anxious wish to wind

birds. On a leather strap, which has a ring at one end, four wooden

balls--of about two inches in diameter--are threaded like beads, at

intervals from each other and the ring, say, of two inches--the exact

distance being dependent on the size of the dog's throat. Into each of the

balls sundry short pieces of thickish wire are driven, leaving about

one-sixth of an inch beyond the surface. The other end of the strap--to

which the checkcord is attached--is passed through the ring. This ring

being of somewhat less diameter than the balls, it is clear, however

severely the breaker may pull, he cannot compress the dog's throat beyond

a certain point. The effect of the short spikes is rather to crumple than

penetrate the skin.

205. I have long been sensible of the aid a spiked collar would afford in

reclaiming headstrong, badly educated dogs, if it could be used at the

moment--and only at the precise moment when punishment was required,--but

not until lately did it strike me how the collar could be carried so that

the attached cord should not constantly bear upon it, and thereby worry,

if not pain the dog. And had I again to deal with an old offender, who

incorrigibly crept in after pointing, or obstinately "rushed into dead,"

I should feel much disposed to employ a slightly spiked collar in the

following manner.

206. That the mere carrying the collar might not annoy the dog, I would

extract or flatten the nails fixed on the top of the collar, on the part,

I mean, that would lie on the animal's neck. This collar I would place on

his neck, in front of his common light collar. I would then firmly fasten

the checkcord, in the usual way, to the spiked collar; but, to prevent any

annoyance from dragging the checkcord, at about five or six inches from

the fastening just made I would attach it to the common collar, with very

slight twine--twine so slight that, although it would not give way to the

usual drag of the checkcord, however long, yet it would readily break on

my having to pull strongly against the wilful rush of an obstinate dog,

when, of course, the spikes would punish him, as the strain would then be

borne by the spiked collar alone.

207. Guided by circumstances, I would afterwards either remove the spiked

collar, or, if I conceived another bout necessary, refasten the checkcord

to the common collar with some of the thin twine, leaving, as before, five

or six inches of the checkcord loose between the two collars.

208. If you should ever consider yourself forced to employ a spiked

collar, do not thoughtlessly imagine that the same collar will suit all

dogs. The spikes for a thin coated pointer ought to be shorter than for a

coarse haired setter! You can easily construct one to punish with any

degree of severity you please. Take a common leather collar; lay its inner

surface flat on a soft deal board: through the leather drive with a hammer

any number of tacks or flat-headed nails: then get a cobbler to sew on

another strap of leather at the back of the nails, so as to retain them

firmly in position.

209. I have supposed that your dog has _scented_ the birds before they

rose, but if he springs them without having previously noticed them--as in

some rare cases happens even to well-bred dogs--you _must_ bring him back

to the spot at which you feel assured that he ought to have been sensible

of their presence, and _there_ make him "Toho." Afterwards endeavor to

make him aware of the haunt by encouraging him to sniff at the ground that

the birds have just left. The next time watch very carefully for the

_slightest_ indication of his feathering, and then instantly call out

"Toho." After a few times he will, to a certainty, understand you.

210. You should kill outright the few first birds at which you fire. I

would infinitely prefer that you should miss altogether than that one of

the two or three first birds should be a runner. Afterwards you have full

leave to merely wing a bird; but still I should wish it not to be too

nimble. This is a good trial of _your_ judgment as well as the dog's. I

hope he is to leeward of the bird, and that it will not catch his eye. See

he touches on the haunt. Do not let him work with his nose to the ground.

"Up, up," must be your encouraging words,--or "On, on," according to

circumstances,--whilst with your right hand--IV. of 119--you are

alternately urging and restraining him, so as to make him advance at a

suitable pace. From his previous education, not being flurried by any

undue dread of the whip, he will be enabled to give his undisturbed

attention, and devote all his faculties to follow unerringly the

retreating bird. But from inexperience he may wander from the haunt. On

perceiving this, bring him, by signals, back to the spot where he was

apparently last aware of the scent. He will again hit it off. If you view

the bird ever so far ahead, on no account run. I hope you will at length

observe it lie down. Head it, if possible, and strike it with your whip,

if you think you will be unable to seize it with your hand. Endeavor to

prevent its fluttering away;--it is too soon to subject the youngster to

such a severe trial of his nerves and steadiness. Then,--having put the

poor creature out of its misery, by piercing its skull, or rapping its

head against your gun, as before--180--show your dog the gratifying prize

which your combined exertions have gained.

211. Should he unluckily have caught sight of the running bird, and, in

spite of all your calls, have rushed forward and seized it, you ought to

have proceeded as described in 221. Clearly, however, you would not have

dragged the dog back to the place where he "down charged," but merely to

the spot from which he had made his unlawful rush. If the bird had been

very active, it would have been far better to have fired at it a second

time--while it was running--than to have incurred the risk of making your

dog unsteady by a wild pursuit. Suppose that it was not winged, but rose

again on your approaching it, and fluttered off,--a hard trial for the

young dog,--you must, however, have made him bear it, and obey your loud

command to "drop,"--you would--or should--have taken another shot, and

have proceeded in exactly the same manner as if this had been your first

find--179, 180.

212. As the wounded bird was to windward of the dog, the course to follow

was obvious,--it was plain sailing; but the case would have varied greatly

if the dog had been to windward. Had you pursued the usual plan, he must

have roaded the bird by the "foot;" and the danger is, that in allowing

him to do so, you may create in him the evil habit of hunting with his

nose close to the ground, which is, above all things, to be deprecated.

You have another mode--you can "lift" the dog--I suppose you know the

meaning of that hunting term,--and make him take a large circuit, and so

head the bird, and then proceed as if it had fallen to windward.

213. The latter plan would avoid all risk of your making him a potterer,

and it is, I think, to be recommended, if you find him naturally inclined

to hunt low. But the former method, as a lesson in "footing," must be

often resorted to, that he may learn unhesitatingly to distinguish the

"heel" from the "toe," and how to push an old cock-grouse, or to flush a

pheasant running through cover, or the red-legged, I was nearly saying,

the everlasting-legged partridge;[35] and, indeed, generally, how to draw

upon his birds, and with confidence lead you to a shot, when they are upon

the move and running down wind.--See end of 98; and for further

directions, and for "seeking dead" with two dogs, look at 296. The heavy

Spanish pointer, from his plodding perseverance and great olfactory

powers, was an excellent hand at retrieving a slightly injured bird on a

broiling, bad scenting day.

214. When I advised you--180--to let the dog "have plenty of time to make

out the bird," I spoke from personal experience, and from a vivid

recollection of errors committed in my novitiate. A young hand is too apt

to imagine that every bird which falls to his gun is killed outright, and

lying dead on the spot where it fell. He will, therefore, often

impatiently, and most injudiciously, call away the dog who, at a little

distance, may have hit-off the trail of the winged bird, and be "footing"

it beautifully.

215. If in these lessons you should lose one or two wounded birds, though

it might not be a matter of any moment to yourself personally, it would be

extremely vexatious on the dog's account, because, in this early stage of

his education, it would tend to discourage him. The feeling which you must

anxiously foster in him is this, that after the word "find"[36] the

search must never be relinquished, even though he be constrained to hunt

from morning till night. And it is clear that to make an abiding, valuable

impression, this lesson must be inculcated on the several first occasions

with unremitting, untiring diligence.

216. Persevere, therefore, for an hour, rather than give up a wounded

bird. Join in the search yourself. Even if you see where it lies, do not

pick it up hastily. On the contrary, leave it, but mark well the spot.

Keep on the move. Hold your gun as if in expectation of a rise. Pretend to

seek for the bird in every direction, even for a good half hour, if you

can encourage your dog to hunt so long. If, indeed, you see him flag, and

get wearied and dispirited, gradually bring him close, but to leeward of

the spot where the bird lies, in order to make him "point dead" and be

rewarded for all his diligence by finding it himself. Let him, also, have

a good sniff at it and nose it--but let there be no biting or

mouthing--before you put it into the bag. Otherwise, what return has he

for the pains he has taken?

217. It is no conclusive argument against the practice of allowing him to

"nose," that many first-rate dogs have never been so indulged. It is

certain that they would not have been worse if they had; and many a dog,

that would otherwise have been extremely slack, has been incited to hunt

with eagerness from having been so rewarded. There are dogs who, from

having been constantly denied all "touseling," will not even give

themselves the trouble of searching for any bird which they have seen

knocked over, much less think of pointing it. They seem satisfied with

this ocular evidence of its death; for, odd to say, these very dogs will

often zealously obey the order to hunt for any bird whose fall they have

not noticed; but on winding it they will indulge in no more than a passing

sniff,--which sniff, unless you are watchful, you may not observe, and so

lose your bird. Never fail, therefore, to let your pupil ruffle the

feathers a little, while you bestow on him a caress or kind word of

approbation. You then incite to perseverance, by, even with dogs, a very

abiding motive,--"self-interest;" but mind the important rule, that his

"nosing" be only _when_ the bird is in your possession, not _before_ it is

in your possession. If you wish to establish for ever a confirmed

perseverance in "seeking dead," you must sacrifice _hours_--I say it

seriously--rather than give up any of the first wounded birds. Be

persuaded that every half hour spent in an unremitting search for _one_

bird, if ultimately successful, will more benefit the young dog than your

killing a _dozen_ to him, should you bag them the moment you are reloaded.

Of course you would not, when you are giving such a lesson in

perseverance, fire at another bird, even if it sprang at your feet,--for

your doing so, whether you missed or killed, would unsettle the young dog,

and make him relinquish his search. Be stimulated to present exertion by

the conviction, that if he be not _now_ well instructed, you must expect

him to lose, season after season, nearly every bird only slightly disabled

by a merely tipped wing.

218. I hope you will not say, as would most of our neighbors[37] on the

other side of the Channel: "But if, instead of waiting to load, I had gone

after the winged bird just as it fell, when first I saw it start off

running, the evil you have now spoken of--215--could not have occurred,

for there would have been but little risk of losing it." Probably not, but

you would almost have ruined your dog; and to secure this one bird, in all

likelihood you would subsequently lose a hundred.[38] How could you with

justice blame him if, when next you killed, he rushed headlong after the

bird--instead of dropping patiently to the "down charge"--and so sprung a

dozen birds while you were unloaded?

219. Perhaps you will say, "You tell me to fire at a running bird, but

when a winged cock-pheasant or red-legged partridge is racing off _out of

shot_, how am I to get it if I proceed in the slow, methodical manner you

advise? May it not lead me an unsuccessful dance for an hour, if I do not

allow the dog to shoot ahead and seize?" It may--but I hope months will

pass before you witness such agility--and this shows that those who do not

employ a retriever, and yet are sticklers for a setter's--or

pointer's--never being permitted to touch a feather, must on such

occasions get into a dilemma; and, unless they are willing to lose the

bird, must plead guilty to the inconsistency of being pleased--however

loudly they may roar out "Toho," "ware dead,"--when they see their dog, in

defiance of all such calls, disable it by a sudden grip. This plan, though

frequently followed, cannot be correct. They blame the dog for doing what

they really wish! and if he be too tender-mouthed to injure the bird, he

keeps them at top speed, while he is alternately picking up the

unfortunate creature--acting on his natural impulses--and letting it fall,

on being rated. I therefore repeat, that even if you do not wish your dog

constantly to retrieve--292--you would still act judiciously in teaching

him as a puppy to fetch--86--for then he will give chase to the winged

bird, and bring it to you _on getting the order_, instead of permitting

it to escape for a fresh _burst_, or carrying it off, as I have seen done.

You thus maintain discipline. The dog will do what you wish, in obedience

to orders,--not in opposition to orders. The sticklers for dogs never

being allowed to nose a feather ought, unless they are quite willing to

give up slightly-winged birds, not to shrink from the difficult task of

teaching their pupils to stop and retain with their paws.

220. We have only spoken of instances 180, 210, 212, in which all has gone

on smoothly, the dog most obediently dropping to shot and permitting _you_

to take up the bird notwithstanding the poor creature's death-struggles.

Suppose, however, and this may probably happen, that he does not restrain

himself at the "down charge," but, in spite of all your calls and signals,

rushes forward, yet yields to your menaces and halts in mid-career. It is

well--your course is clear; you have to lug him back and threaten and

lecture him. But should he not check himself until he sniffs the game, his

stop then becomes a "point;" and if he is of a timid disposition, or has

ever evinced any disposition to blink, you dare not force him to retrace

his steps lest he should mistake your motives, and fancy himself

encouraged to abandon his point. If you merely make him "down charge," you

violate the axiom named in 255. In short you are in a difficulty. It is a

nice case, in which your own judgment of the dog's character can alone

decide you.

221. But, if from inadequate initiatory instruction--for I will maintain

that such marked rebellion can arise from no other cause--in the

excitement of the moment he actually rushes in and seizes the bird, he

must be punished, I am sorry to say it; but however much we may deplore

it, _he must_; for he has been guilty of great disobedience, and he well

knows that he has been disobedient. But the temptation was strong, perhaps

too strong, for canine nature--that is to say, for canine nature not early

taught obedience. The wounded bird was fluttering within sight and

hearing--it was, too, the first he had ever seen,--and this is almost his

first glaring act of disobedience; be therefore merciful, though firm.

Make him "drop." Get up to him at once. Probably he will relinquish his

grip of the bird; if not, make him give it up to you, but do not pull it

from him: that would only increase the temptation to tear it. Lay it on

the ground. Then drag him back to the spot from which he rushed; there

make him lie down. Rate him. Call out "Toho."[39] Crack the whip over

him--and, I am pained to add, make use of it--but moderately, not

severely. Three or four cuts will be enough, provided he has not torn the

bird; if he has, his chastisement must be greater. Let him now have one

nibble without punishment, and soon a whole carcase will not suffice for

his morning's meal. Do not strike him across the body, but lengthwise.

222. An ill-tempered dog might attempt to bite you. Prevent the

possibility of his succeeding, by grasping and twisting his collar with

your left hand, still keeping him at the "down." Consider coolly whether

you are flagellating a thick-coated dog, or one with a skin not much

coarser than your own. Pause between each cut; and, that he may comprehend

why he is punished, call out several times, but not loudly,

"Toho--bad--toho," and crack your whip. Let your last strokes be milder

and milder, until they fall in the gentlest manner--a manner more

calculated to awaken reflection than give pain. When the chastisement is

over stand close in front of him, the better to awe him, and prevent his

thinking of bolting. Put the whip quietly in your pocket, but still remain

where you are, occasionally rating and scolding him while you are loading;

gradually, however, becoming milder in manner that he may be sensible that

though your dissatisfaction at his conduct continues, his punishment is

over--241 to 242. Indeed, if you have any fear of his becoming too timid,

you may at length fondle him a little, provided that while you so

re-encourage him, you continue to say "Toho--toho," most

impressively--then, giving him the wind, go up together to the bird and

make him "point dead" close to it. Take it up, and let him fumble the

feathers before you loop it on the bag.

223. Never let a dog whom you have been forced to chastise bolt or creep

away until you order him. If he is ever allowed to move off at _his_ wish,

he will improve upon the idea, and on the next occasion will far too soon

anticipate _yours_. And do not send him off until he has given some

evidence of having forgiven you, and of his desire to be reconciled, by

crawling towards you, for instance, or wagging his tail. On no

occasion--under circumstances of ever such great provocation--be so weak

or irritable--but I hope you do not need the warning--as to give him a

kick or a blow when he is going off. He ought to have stood with reassured

confidence alongside of you, for perhaps a minute or so, before you

sanctioned his departure; and the severer his punishment the longer should

have been the detention. You are always to part tolerable friends, while

he feels perfectly convinced that his chastisement is over. If you do not,

you may find it rather difficult to catch him when he commits another

fault. It will be owing to your own injudiciousness if he ever becomes

afraid of approaching you after making a blunder. Should he be so, sit

down. He will gradually draw near you; then quietly put your hand on his

collar.

224. If a man cannot readily get hold of any dog under his tuition whom he

desires to rate or punish, you may be certain that he fails either in

temper or judgment; perhaps in both. He may be an excellent man; but he

cannot be a good dog-breaker. There are men who get quite enraged at a

dog's not coming instantly to "heel," on being called. When at length the

poor brute does come within reach, he gets a blow, perhaps a licking--a

blow or licking, he has the sense to see he should have longer avoided had

he stayed longer away. Thus the punishment increases instead of remedying

the evil.

225. Never correct or even rate a dog, in the mere _belief_ that he is in

error; be first _convinced_ of his guilt. If you have good reason to

suspect that unseen by you he has wilfully sprung birds, still rather give

him an earnest caution than any severer rebuke. It is not easy to repair

the mischief occasioned by unjust punishment. When from his sheepish look,

or any other cause, you imagine that he has raised game, either through

heedlessness or from their being unusually wild, be sure to give him a

short lecture, and accompany him to the haunt. A lingering bird may

occasionally reward you. If his manner has led you to form an incorrect

opinion, your warning can have no other effect than to increase his

caution--rarely an undesirable result;--and if you are right the

admonition is obviously most judicious.

226. Let me caution you against the too common error of punishing a dog by

pulling his ears. It has often occasioned bad canker. Some men are of

opinion that it is frequently the cause of premature deafness. When you

rate him you may lay hold of an ear and shake it, but not with violence.

227. I would strongly recommend you always to make your young dog "drop"

for half-a-minute or so, when he, sees a hare; or when he hears a bird

rise.[40] To effect this, stand still yourself. After a few seconds you

can either hie him on, or, which is yet better, get close to him if you

expect other birds to spring. You will thus, especially in potatoes or

turnips, often obtain shots at birds which would have made off, had he

continued to hunt, and early in the season be frequently enabled to bag

the tail-bird of a covey. This plan will also tend to make him cautious,

and prevent his getting a habit of blundering-up birds, and cunningly

pretending not to have noticed their escape. It will also make him less

inclined to chase hares and rabbits, or rush at a fallen bird.

228. On approaching a piece of turnips, you may have heard, "Let us couple

up all the dogs excepting Old Don:" the veteran's experience having shown

him, that the only effect of his thundering through them would be to scare

every bird and make it rise out of shot. _You_, on the contrary, when your

pupil is well confirmed in his range, and has some knowledge of his

distance from game, ought to wish the other dogs kept to

"Heel"--especially when the seed has been broadcast,--that by the word

"Care" and the right hand slightly raised you may instil into him the

necessary caution and so, by judicious tuition, give him the benefit of

your own experience. Most probably you would be obliged to employ the

checkcord,[41] which I presume to be always at hand ready for occasional

use. Or you might strap your shot-belt round his throat, for it is

essential that he traverse such ground slowly, and greatly contract his

range--see 145. The several cross scents he will encounter should afford

him a valuable lesson in detecting the most recent, and in discriminating

between the "heel and toe" of a run. Be patient,--give him time to work,

and consider what he is about. It is probable that he will frequently

overrun the birds on their doubling back, and imagine that they are gone.

Should he do so, bring him again on the spot where he appeared to lose the

scent. He now rushes up the adjacent drill. "Slower, slower," signals your

right arm; "go no faster than I can walk comfortably." On the other hand,

the birds may lie like stones. Not until you have remained nearly a minute

alongside of him let him urge them to rise; and make him effect this, not

by a sudden dash, but by steadily pressing on the scent. Bear in mind, as

before warned--143--that the confidence with which he can here creep on to

a near find may lead, if he is now mismanaged, to his springing on future

occasions, from want of care, many a bird at which he ought to get you a

shot.

229. If you can contrive it, let your pupil have some little experience in

the field before you give him a real lesson in "Gone"--or "Flown." Instead

of being perplexed, he will then comprehend you. Should you, therefore,

during the first few days of hunting him, see birds make off in lieu of

taking him to the haunt--as many breakers erroneously do,--carefully keep

him from the spot. You cannot let him run riot over the reeking scent

without expecting him to do the same when next he finds; and if, in

compliance with your orders, he points, you are making a fool of

him--there is nothing before him; and if he does not fancy you as

bewildered as himself, he will imagine that the exhilarating effluvia he

rejoices in is the sum total you both seek. This advice, at first sight,

may appear to contradict that given in 111 and 209; but look again, and

you will find that those paragraphs referred to peculiar cases. Should

your young dog be loitering and sniffing at a haunt which he has _seen_

birds quit, he cannot well mistake the meaning of your calling out, "Gone,

gone."

FOOTNOTES:

[35] The speed with which one of these extremely beautiful, but in every

other respect far, far inferior partridges will run, when only slightly

wounded, is quite marvellous.

[36] The force of the word "Dead"--preceding the command "Find"--that

joyous, exciting note of triumph--ought never to be lessened by being

employed, as I have heard it, to stimulate a dog to hunt when no bird is

down; or, like the shepherd-boy's cry of "Wolf! wolf!" it will have little

influence at the moment when it should most animate to unremitting

exertions.

[37] In favor of such unsportsman-like haste they ingeniously argue that a

continued noise after firing makes birds lie, from attracting their

attention. They say that a sudden change to quiet--and a great change it

must be, for a _chasseur_ is always talking--alarms the birds. As an

evidence of this, they adduce the well-known fact of its frequently

happening that a partridge gets up the moment the guns have left the spot,

though no previous noise had induced it to stir.

[38] Had you lost the bird from there being but little scent, it is

probable you might have found it by renewing your search on your return

homewards in the evening. If a runner, it would most likely have rejoined

the covey.

[39] "Toho," rather than "Drop,"--your object now being to make him stand

at, and prevent his mouthing game; for you are satisfied that he would

have "down charged" had the bird been missed.

[40] Of course, with the proviso that he is not pointing at another

bird--187.

[41] Lest the cord should cut the turnip-tops, it might be better to

employ the elastic band spoken of in 56.

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