COL. W.N. HUTCHINSON,
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.—463.
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. QUALIFICATIONS, IN BREAKER—IN DOG.
[1]. Dog-Breaking an Art easily acquired. [2]. Most expeditious mode of imparting every Degree of Education. Time bestowed determines Grade of Education. In note, Col. Hawker's opinion. [3]. Sportsmen recommended to break in their own Dogs. [4]. Men of property too easily satisfied with badly-broken Dogs. Keepers have no excuse for Dogs being badly broken. [5]. Great Experience in Dog-breaking, or Excellence in Shooting, not necessary. Dispositions of Dogs vary. [6]. What is required in an instructor. [7]. Early in a Season, any Dog will answer, a good one necessary afterwards. Hallooing, rating Dogs, and loud whistling spoils Sport. [8]. What a well-broken Dog ought to do. [9]. Severity reprobated. [10]. Astley's Method of teaching his Horses. [11]. Initiatory Lessons recommended—to be given when alone with Dog—given fasting. [12]. Success promised if rules be followed. Advantages of an expeditious Education. Autumn shooting not sacrificed.
CHAPTER II.—470.
INITIATORY LESSONS WITHIN DOORS. SHOOTING PONIES.
[13]. One Instructor better than two. [14]. Age at which Education commences. In-door breaking for hours, better than Out-door breaking for weeks. [15]. To obey all necessary Words of Command, and all Signals, before shown Game. [16]. Unreasonableness of not always giving Initiatory Lessons—leads to Punishment—thence to Blinking. [17]. Dog to be your constant Companion, not another's. [18], 19, 20. Instruct when alone with him. Initiatory Lessons in his Whistle—in "Dead"—"Toho"—"On." [21]. All Commands and Whistling to be given in a low tone. [22] to 25. Lessons in "Drop."—Head between fore-legs—Setters crouch more than Pointers. [26]. Slovenly to employ right Arm both for "Drop" and "Toho." [27]. Lessons in "Down-charge."—Taught at Pigeon-match—Rewards taken from Hand. [27]. Cavalry Horses fed at discharge of Pistol—Same plan pursued with Dogs. [28]. Dog unusually Timid to be coupled to another. [29]. Lessons at Feeding Time, with Checkcords.
CHAPTER III.—480.
INITIATORY LESSONS CONTINUED. SPANIELS.
[30], 31. Initiatory Lessons in "Dead" and "Seek," continued. [32]. In Signals to hunt to the "right"—"left"—"forward." [33]. In the "Beckon." Woodcock Shooting in America. [34]. In looking to you for instructions. [35]. In "Care." [36]. Always give a reward. [37]. In "Up"—saves using Puzzle-peg. [38]. Dog to carry Nose high. [39]. Initiatory Lesson in "Footing a scent". [40]. In "Heel." [41]. In "Gone" or "Away." [42]. In "Fence" or "Ware-fence." [43]. "No" a better word than "Ware." [44]. Accustomed to couples. [45]. Initiatory Lesson in-doors with a Companion—when one "drops," the other to "drop." [46]. Makes "Backing" quickly understood. [47]. Initiatory Lessons with a Companion in the Fields. [48]. Initiatory Lessons save time—make Dogs fond of Hunting. [49]. Checkcord described. Wildest Dogs possess most energy. [50]. Advantages of Checkcord explained. Spaniels broken in by it. [51]. Lad to act as Whipper-in. [52]. Retriever that acted as Whipper-in. [53]. Jealousy made him act the part. Might be taught to Retrieve. [54]. Instead of "down charge," coming to "heel." [55]. As Puppies kept close to you, not to "self-hunt"—"broke" from hare. [56]. Blacksmith straps Horse's Leg above Hock—Dog's similarly confined—Shot-belt round the necks of wildest. [57]. Hunted in Gorse. [58]. Age when shown Game. Example of good Spaniels advantageous. [59]. Perfected in "Drop"—taught to "seek dead"—to "fetch"—entered at Hedge-rows and lightest Covers. Bells to Collars. [60]. To hunt farther side of Hedge. [61]. How Sportsmen may aid Keeper. [62]. Experienced Spaniels slacken pace on Game. [63]. Difficult to work young ones in Silence. [64]. Spaniels that Pointed. [65]. Game first accustomed to, most liked. [66]. Principal requisites in Spaniels. [67]. The signal "to point with finger." [68]. Following Cockers a Young Man's work. [69]. Education differs in different Teams. [70]. One and a half couple of large Spaniels sufficient. One of the Team to retrieve. [71]. Clumbers procuring more shots in Turnips than Pointers. [72]. Lord P——n's highly-broken Team. [73]. Of small Cockers three couple a Team. What constitutes Perfection. [74]. Retriever with Team. Duke of Newcastle's Keepers. [75]. Some Teams allowed to hunt flick. [76]. Markers necessary with wild Spaniels. [77]. Old Sportsmen prefer mute Spaniels. [78]. Handy old Setters capital in light cover. Attention necessary when first entered. [79]. C——e's Pointers as good in cover as on the stubble. [80]. Pointer that ran to opposite side of Thicket to flush Game towards Gun. [81]. Water Spaniels, how broken. [82]. Shepherd's Forward Signal best for Water Retrievers. [83]. Wild Fowl reconnoitred with Telescope. [84]. Qualities required in Water Retriever. In Note, Poachers in Snow. Beast or Man of one uniform color easily detected. [85]. Steady Spaniels in Rice Lakes.
CHAPTER IV.—510.
LESSONS IN "FETCHING." RETRIEVERS.
[86]. Lessons in "fetching" recommended. Dog, not taught to retrieve, bringing dead Bird he had found. [87]. Taught to deliver into your hand; never pick up a Bird yourself; Dog which often lost winged Birds she had lifted. [88]. Retrievers taught to carry something soft; injudiciousness of employing a stone. [89]. How encouraged to plunge into Water. [90]. Diving, how taught. [91]. "Fetching" taught with a Pincushion; with a Bunch of Keys. [92]. Made to deliver instantly. [93]. Practised to carry things of the size and weight of a Hare. [94]. "Fetching," how taught at commencement. [95]. Regular Retrievers taught to fetch Birds; to "foot" Rabbits and Winged Game. [96]. Retriever observes when a Bird is struck; a quality particularly useful in a Water Retriever. [97]. Pigeons and small Birds shot to Retrievers. [98]. Injudiciousness of aiding a young Dog when retrieving; makes him rely on Gun rather than his own Nose. [99]. Fatigue of carrying Hare tempts young Retriever to drop it; taught to deliver quickly by rewards of hard boiled liver. [100]. If he taste blood, put on Wire snaffle; how made. [101]. Retriever how taught to pursue faster; should commence to "road" slowly, but "follow up" rapidly. [102]. Why Land Retrievers should "down charge". [103]. Some Retrievers may "run on shot," but those for sale should "down charge." [104]. Retrievers not to be of a heavy build, yet strong and thick-coated. [105]. Cross between Newfoundland and Setter makes best Retriever; the real Newfoundland described. [106]. Cross from heavy Setter best Retriever. [107]. Most Dogs can be taught more or less to Retrieve. [108]. Young Retriever to lift Woodcock and Landrail. [109]. Retrievers never to kill Rats, lift vermin, or wounded Heron, &c.
CHAPTER V.—527.
INITIATORY LESSONS OUT OF DOORS. TRICKS.
[110]. Lessons in Country Walks. [111]. "Instruction in quartering;" hunted where least likely to find Game; taught while young. In Note, Bitch shot over when seven months old. [112]. If unreasonably long before taking to hunting, the remedy. [113]. Utility of Initiatory Lessons; taught without punishing. [114]. Self-confidence of timid Dogs increased. [115]. The more Dogs learn, the more readily they learn. [116]. Two superior Dogs better than half-a-dozen of the ordinary sort; Action of Dogs; their Feet; Loins; dash of Foxhound gives endurance; cross with Bull hunts with nose too low; Reliefs desirable; best Dog reserved for evening. [117]. Memorandum, never to ride through gate with gun athwart-ship; instance of Dog's behaving admirably the first day shown Game. [118]. Proves the value of Initiatory Lessons. [119]. Summary of knowledge imparted by them. [120]. Why to signal with right hand. [121]. One word only of command; dogs attend to the general Sound, not to the several Words. [122]. Names of Dogs not to end in "O;" to be easily called; to be dissimilar. [123]. "Drop" better word of command than "Down;" use words of command least likely to be employed by others; when purchasing a Dog ascertain what words he is accustomed to.
CHAPTER VI—537.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN COMMENCED. RANGING.
[124]. Regular Breakers make Dogs "point" paired Birds in Spring, tends to Blinking. [125]. Better not to see Game until shot over; taken out alone on a fine day in Autumn. [126]. Perpetually whistling to animate Dogs, injudicious. [127]. Beat largest fields, and where least likely to find Game. [128]. Commence from leeward; scent bad in a calm or gale. [129] to 133. Instructions in "ranging." [134]. Kept from hedge; Range greater on moors than stubble. [135]. Distance between Parallels dependent on tenderness of nose. [136]. If the Dog is to hunt with another, the Parallels to be farther apart. [137]. No interruption when winding Birds, yet not allowed to puzzle; Nose to gain Experience. [138]. Birds lie well to Dog that "winds," not "foots" them. [139]. Inattentive to Whistle, made to "drop," &c.; when rating or punishing, the disregarded order or signal to be often repeated; Whip to crack loudly. The attainment of a scientific Range difficult, but of surpassing value; the best ranger must in the end find most Game.
CHAPTER VII.—549.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. CAUTION.
[140]. Dog to be hunted alone. [141]. Many Breakers exactly reverse this. [142]. Turnips, Potatoes, &c., avoided; Range of dogs broken on moors most true. [143]. In Turnips, &c., young Dogs get too close to Birds. [144]. Cautious Dogs may with advantage be as fast as wild ones; the two contrasted. In Note, injudiciousness of teaching a Puppy to "point" Chickens. [145], 6. A Dog's nose cannot be improved, but his caution can, which is nearly tantamount; how effected. [147]. How to make fast Dogs cautious. [148], 149. The cause why wild Dogs ultimately turn out best. [150]. The day's Beat commenced from the leeward. [151]. Wonderful Dogs, which find Game without hunting. [152]. Reason why Dogs should be instructed separately, and allowed Time to work out a scent; young Dogs generally too much hurried.
CHAPTER VIII.—556.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. CUNNING OF AGE—RANGE OF FROM TWO TO SIX DOGS.
[153]. Your Dog not to "break fence;" how taught; Birds often sprung while you are scrambling over hedge. [154]. Turning one's back upon a Dog to bring him away; stooping down, &c., to make him hunt close. [155]. Dog, when fatigued, not to be hunted; leads to false points. [156]. Sent home, brushed, and allowed a warm berth; not to follow all day at "heel." [157] to 159. Beat of two Dogs, how regulated. [160]. Whatever number hunted, all should look to the Gun for orders. [161]. Mr. Herbert's opinion in his "Field Sports in United States." [162], 163. Beat of three Dogs. [164]. Of four Dogs. [165] to 167. Of five or six Dogs. [168]. Great precision impracticable, but the necessity of a system maintained; System particularly essential where Game is scarce; Dogs to be brigaded, not to be employed as a pack. [169]. When each keeper hunts a brace. [170]. A brigade of fine rangers worth from fifty to sixty guineas a brace. [171]. Fastest walkers do not necessarily beat most country. [172]. Nor do always the fastest Dogs. [173]. How slow Dogs may hunt more ground than faster.
CHAPTER IX.—565
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. "POINT" NOT RELINQUISHED FOR "DOWN CHARGE."
[174]. Affection makes Dog anxious to please—when he rushes in to be dragged back. [175]. Rule pressed. [176]. Reasons for Rule—Experience anticipated. [177]. To "stand" far off. [178]. Patience enjoined—Not to part as enemies. [179]. The first good point—Remain yourself stationary. [180]. "Heading" Dog—Your circle to be wide. The first Bird killed. [181]. Finding dead Bird, it being to leeward. [182]. Pointing it—Blinking it. The cause. [183]. Bird killed, the Dog to go to "heel." [184]. Supposed objection. [184]. Answered. [185]. Temptation to run after fallen Bird greater than to run to "heel." [186]. Dog pointing one Bird, and after "down charge," springing the others. The cause. [187]. The preventive. Dog never to discontinue his point in order to "down charge." How taught. [188]. Its advantages exemplified. [189]. Decide whether Dog goes direct to Bird, or first to you. [190]. Dog which performed well—Snipe shooting on banks of Richelieu. [191]. Coolness recommended—Inconsistency deprecated.
CHAPTER X.—579.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. ASSISTANT
[192]. Some Dogs will not point readily. Breeding in and in, error of. [193]. Dogs more inclined to point at first than afterwards. [194]. Checkcord employed—spike attached to it. [195]. With wild Dog assistant useful—Signals to. [196]. How particularly useful with a badly-broken Dog. [197]. "Heading" Dog at his point—not practised too often—Dog to acquire a knowledge of his distance from Game. [198]. Constantly "Heading" Dog may make him too immovable. [199]. A fault often caused by over-punishment. [200]. False points caused by over-punishment—Self-confidence and experience only cures for over-caution. [201]. Dog's manner shows position of Birds.
CHAPTER XI.—585.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONCLUDED. BAR. LEG STRAP. SPIKE COLLAR.
[202]. Bar cure for too high spirits. A leg strapped up. Why these remedies are better than starvation and excessive work. [203]. The regular Spike Collar described. French Spike Collar. [204]. One less objectionable. [205] to 208. How, in extreme cases, the Spike Collar may be employed. [209]. Dog springing Birds without noticing them; how to be treated. [210]. The first Birds fired at to be killed outright; the search for winged Birds, Dog being to leeward. [211]. Had the Dog seized. Firing at running Bird. [212]. The search for winged Bird, Dog being to windward. [213]. "Lifting" a Dog, when recommended. "Footing" a scent. In Note, Speed of Red-legged Partridge. [214]. Evil of a young Sportsman always thinking his Birds killed outright; often calls away Dog improperly. [215]. Loss of dead Bird discouraging to Dog. [216]. Perseverance in seeking, how fostered. [217]. "Nosing" Bird allowed. [218]. Error of picking up winged Bird before loading. In Note, Ingenious argument in its favor; Bird picked up in the evening; rejoins covey. [219]. If a winged Bird be a fast runner, and out of shot. [220]. If Dog rushes forward, yet yields to menaces and stops. [221]. If he seizes the dead Bird; if he has torn it.—How to administer Punishment. [222]. Part good friends. Your own temper not to be ruffled. [223]. Your own temper not to be ruffled. [224]. He is no Breaker who cannot always get hold of Dog. [225]. Be certain of Dog's guilt before punishing. [226]. Dog's ears not to be pulled violently. [227]. To "drop" whenever Bird or Hare rises. [228]. Lesson in Turnips. [229]. Real Lesson in "Gone" or "Flown" given after Dog has had some experience; reason why.
CHAPTER XII.—604.
SHOOTING HARES. COURAGE IMPARTED. "BACKING" TAUGHT.
[230]. Shooting Hares not recommended; shooting Rabbits strongly condemned. In Note, why superior Grouse-Dog better than superior Partridge-Dog. Dog brought from strange country always hunts to disadvantage. [231]. Put off killing Hares as long as possible. [232]. Dogs not to quit faint scent of Birds for strong scent of Hare. [233]. Dog after Hare; no racing after Dog; Puss gone down wind. [234]. Checkcord employed. Drive in spike on "toho-ing" Hare. [235]. Impropriety of firing at Dog. [236]. Hares scarce, visit Rabbit-warren. [237]. Morning, hunt where no Hares; evening, where plentiful. Mountain Hares. [238]. Killing Hare in its form. [239]. Shooting Bird on ground. [240]. Dog taught to pursue wounded Hare. [241]. Whip carried, saves punishment. Detention of Dog at crouching posture, saves Whip. [242]. Few cuts, but severe ones. [243]. Instance of timidity cured. Range imparted by giving Dog feet of Partridge. [244]. Punishment, not defective Nose, causes Blinking. [245]. Courage imparted to timid Dogs. [246]. Dogs expect Punishment for faults; vexed when Birds are not fired at. [247]. What Dog select to teach yours to "Back." [248]. Example has great influence. [249]. "Backing" old Dog. [250]. "Finder" to "road" to a "rise;" his intrusive companion described. [251]. To "back" by Eye, not Nose. [252]. Encourage old Dog before rating the other. [253]. "Finder" not to advance, even if passed by other Dog. [254]. The "Backer" should "down charge." [255]. Dog when pointing never to "down charge;" how taught.
CHAPTER XIII.—619.
HINTS TO PURCHASERS. SHEEP KILLING.
[256]. The "back" being taught, young Dog again hunted alone. [257]. Breakers hunt too many together. Why injudicious. [258]. One hour's instruction alone, better than a day's in company. [259]. Case in point. [260]. Rushing in to "dead," how cured. [261]. Dogs shot over "single-handed." Jealousy decreases with intimacy. Independence and self-reliance, how imparted. [262]. Best Dogs; summary of rules for making, concisely given. The best will make mistakes. [263]. Dog that always ran riot when out of sight. [264]. Killing sheep; cure attempted. [265]. Another plan. [266], 267. Third attempt at remedy. [267]. Muzzle Dog likely to worry Sheep. [268]. Killing Fowls; the cure.
CHAPTER XIV.—628.
DISTINGUISHING WHISTLES. "BACKING" THE GUN. RETREAT FROM AND RESUMPTION OF POINT. RANGE UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN. HEADING RUNNING BIRDS.
[271]. A distinguishing whistle for each Dog; disadvantage of employing but one whistle for several Dogs; supposed case. [272]. Another case. [273]. Third case. [274]. Dissimilar whistles, or distinct notes on one whistle. [275]. General rule for whistling [276]. Dog to back the Gun; how taught; it creates caution. [277]. Advantage of Dog backing the Gun. [278]. American Wood-Duck. [279]. Dog to retreat from point and resume it. [280]. How taught. [281]. Shows Dog object for which he is hunted. [282]. Not taught too early. [283]. Dog's consciousness of its object. [284]. Dog to hunt from leeward to windward, unaccompanied by Gun; how taught. [285]. A careful Dog running down wind would not spring Birds. [286]. The great advantages of the accomplishment. [287]. Dog to head running Birds; could be taught. [288]. How Dog taught to hunt "unaccompanied by Gun." [289]. The accomplishment taught by "lifting;" not commenced first season. [290]. Could be taught as easily as Shepherds' collies are instructed. [291]. Particularly useful where the red-legged Partridge is found.
CHAPTER XV.—638.
SETTER TO RETRIEVE. BLOODHOUNDS. RETRIEVERS TO "BEAT." WOUNDED WILD FOWL RETRIEVED FIRST.
[292]. Setter to retrieve; obtain thereby in one Dog the services of two; necessity of having some Dog that retrieves. [293]. Predilection for Setters confessed; Reasons given. [294]. One Dog only to retrieve. [295]. Let "retrieving" be done by "Finder." [296]. Seeking Dead with two Dogs; Winged Bird searched for in direction of covey's flight. [297]. Scent differs of wounded and unwounded Birds. [298]. Three dead Snipe lifted in succession; Setter that stood fresh Birds while carrying a dead one; Pointer that pointed Partridge while carrying a Hare; Retriever refusing to relinquish chase of wounded Hare. [299]. Injudiciousness of retrieving Setter pointing dead. [300]. Argument against employing retrieving Setters holds against using regular Retrievers. [301]. Regular Retrievers to beat; its advantages; one Dog does the duty of two. [302]. Water Retrievers, or Water Spaniels, to retrieve crippled before picking up dead Wild Fowl; how taught. [303]. None of these accomplishments so difficult to teach as a good range. [304]. Might be taught by your Gamekeeper, but not to be expected of regular Breaker.
DOG-BREAKING.
CHAPTER I.
PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. QUALIFICATIONS, IN BREAKER—IN DOG.
[1]. Dog-breaking, so far from there being any mystery in it, is an art easily acquired when it is commenced and continued on rational principles.
[2]. I think you will be convinced of this if you will have the patience to follow me, whilst I endeavor to explain what, I am satisfied, is the most certain and rapid method of breaking in your dogs, whether you require great proficiency in them, or are contented with an inferior education. No quicker system has yet been devised, however humble the education may be. The education in fact of the peasant, and that of the future double-first collegian, begin and proceed on the same principle. You know your own circumstances, and you must yourself determine what time you choose to devote to them; and, as a consequence, the degree of excellence to which you aspire. I can only assure you of my firm conviction, that no other means will enable you to gain your object so quickly, and I speak with a confidence derived from long experience in many parts of the world, on a subject that was, for several years, my great hobby.[2]
[3]. Every writer is presumed to take some interest in his reader; I therefore feel privileged to address you as a friend, and will commence my lecture by strongly recommending, that, if your occupations will allow it, you take earnestly and heartily to educating your dogs yourself. If you possess temper and some judgment, and will implicitly attend to my advice, I will go bail for your success, and, much as you may now love shooting, you will then like it infinitely more. Try the plan I recommend, and I will guarantee that the Pointer or Setter Pup which I will, for example sake, suppose to be now in your kennel, shall be a better dog by the end of next season—I mean a more killing dog—than probably any you ever yet shot over.
[4]. Possibly you will urge, that you are unable to spare the time which I consider necessary for giving him a high education—brief as that time is, compared with the many, many months wasted in the tedious methods usually employed—and that you must, perforce, content yourself with humbler qualifications. Be it so, I can only condole with you, for in your case this may be partly true; mind, I only say partly true. But how a man of property, who keeps a regular gamekeeper, can be satisfied with the disorderly, disobedient troop to which he often shoots, I cannot understand. Where the gamekeeper is permitted to accompany his master in the field, and hunt the dogs himself, there can be no valid excuse for the deficiency in their education. The deficiency must arise either from the incapacity, or from the idleness of the keeper.
[5]. Unlike most other arts, dog-breaking does not require much experience; but such a knowledge of dogs, as will enable you to discriminate between their different tempers and dispositions, I had almost said characters—and they vary greatly—is very advantageous. Some require constant encouragement; some you must never beat; whilst, to gain the required ascendancy over others, the whip must be occasionally employed. Nor is it necessary that the instructor should be a very good shot; which probably is a more fortunate circumstance for me than for you. It should even be received as a principle that birds ought to be now and then missed to young dogs, lest some day, if your nerves happen to be out of order, or a cockney companion be harmlessly blazing away, your dog take it into his head and heels to run home in disgust, as I have seen a bitch, called Countess, do more than once, in Haddingtonshire.
[6]. The chief requisites in a breaker are:—Firstly, command of temper, that he may never be betrayed into giving one unnecessary blow, for with dogs, as with horses, no work is so well done as that which is done cheerfully; secondly, consistency, that in the exhilaration of his spirits, or in his eagerness to secure a bird, he may not permit a fault to pass unreproved, I do not say unpunished, which at a less exciting moment he would have noticed—and that, on the other hand, he may not correct a dog the more harshly because the shot has been missed, or the game lost; and lastly, the exercise of a little reflection, to enable him to judge what meaning an unreasonable animal is likely to attach to every word and sign, nay to every look.
[7]. With the coarsest tackle, and worst flies, trout can be taken in unflogged waters, while it requires much science, and the finest gut, to kill persecuted fish. It is the same in shooting. With almost any sporting-dog game can be killed early in the season, when the birds lie like stones, and the dog can get within a few yards of them; but you will require one highly broken to obtain many shots when they are wild. Then any incautious approach of the dog, or any noise, would flush the game, and your own experience will tell you that nothing so soon puts birds on the run, and makes them so ready to take flight, as the sound of the human voice, especially now-a-days, when farmers generally prefer the scythe to the sickle, and clean husbandry, large fields, and trim narrow hedges—affording no shelter from wet—have forced the partridge—a short-winged[3] bird—unwillingly to seek protection, when arrived at maturity, in ready flight rather than in concealment. Even the report of a gun does not so much alarm them as the command, "Toho," or "Down charge," usually too, as if to make matters worse, hallooed to the extent of the breaker's lungs. There are anglers who recommend silence as conducive to success, and there are no experienced sportsmen who do not acknowledge its great value in shooting. Rate or beat a dog at one end of a field, and the birds at the other will lift their heads, become uneasy, and be ready to take wing the moment you get near them. "Penn," in his clever maxims on Angling and Chess, observes to this effect, "if you wish to see the fish, do not let him see you;" and with respect to shooting, we may as truly say, "if you wish birds to hear your gun, do not let them hear your voice." Even a loud whistle disturbs them. Mr. O——t of C——e says a gamekeeper's motto ought to be,—"No whistling—no whipping—no noise, when master goes out for sport."
[8]. These observations lead unavoidably to the inference, that no dog can be considered perfectly broken, that does not make his point when first he feels assured of the presence of game, and remain stationary where he makes it, until urged on by you to draw nearer—that does not, as a matter of course, lie down without any word of command the moment you have fired, and afterwards perseveringly seek for the dead bird in the direction you may point out—and all this without your once having occasion to speak, more than to say in a low voice, "Find," when he gets near the dead bird, as will be hereafter explained. Moreover, it must be obvious that he risks leaving game behind him if he does not hunt every part of a field, and, on the other hand, that he wastes your time and his strength, if he travels twice over the same ground, nay, over any ground which his powers of scent have already reached. Of course I am now speaking of a dog hunted without a companion to share his labors.
[9]. You may say, "How is all this, which sounds so well in theory, to be obtained in practice without great severity?" Believe me, with severity it never can be attained. If flogging would make a dog perfect, few would be found unbroken in England or Scotland, and scarcely one in Ireland.
[10]. Astley's method was to give each horse his preparatory lessons alone, and when there was no noise or anything to divert his attention from his instructor. If the horse was interrupted during the lesson, or his attention in any way withdrawn, he was dismissed for that day. When perfect in certain lessons by himself, he was associated with other horses whose education was further advanced. And it was the practice of that great master to reward his horses with slices of carrot or apple when they performed well.
[11]. Astley may give us a useful hint in our far easier task of dog-breaking. We see that he endeavored by kindness and patience to make the horse thoroughly comprehend the meaning of certain words and signals before he allowed him any companion. So ought you, by what may be termed "initiatory lessons," to make your young dog perfectly understand the meaning of certain words and signs before you hunt him in the company of another dog—nay, before you hunt him at all; and, in pursuance of Astley's plan, you ought to give these lessons when you are alone with the dog, and his attention is not likely to be withdrawn to other matters. Give them, also, when he is fasting, as his faculties will then be clearer, and he will be more eager to obtain any rewards of biscuit or other food.
[12]. Be assured that by a consistent adherence to the simple rules which I will explain, you can obtain the perfection I have described, [8], with more ease and expedition than you probably imagine to be practicable; and, if you will zealously follow my advice, I promise, that, instead of having to give up your shooting in September—for I am supposing you to be in England—while you break in your pup, you shall then be able to take him into the field, provided he is tolerably well bred and well disposed, perfectly obedient; and, except that he will not have a well-confirmed, judicious range, almost perfectly made; at least so far made, that he will only commit such faults as naturally arise from want of experience. Let me remind you also that the keep of dogs is expensive, and supplies an argument for making them earn their bread by hunting to a useful purpose so soon as they are of an age to work without injury to their constitution. Time, moreover, is valuable to us all, or most of us fancy it is. Surely, then, that system of education is best which imparts the most expeditiously the required degree of knowledge.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] It may be satisfactory to others to know the opinion of so undeniable an authority as Colonel Hawker. The Colonel, in the Tenth Edition of his invaluable Book on Shooting, writes—page 285—"Since the publication of the last edition, Lieut.-Col. Hutchinson's valuable work on 'Dog-breaking' has appeared. It is a perfect vade mecum for both Sportsmen and Keeper, and I have great pleasure in giving a cordial welcome to a work which so ably supplies my own deficiencies."
[3] The American Quail so closely resembles the English partridge in all its habits, except that it takes to covert in large woodlands, and occasionally trees, that all the rules of hunting and beating for it, shooting it, and breaking dogs for its pursuit, are entirely identical.—H.W.H.
CHAPTER II.
INITIATORY LESSONS WITHIN DOORS. SHOOTING PONIES.
[13]. It is seldom of any advantage to a dog to have more than one instructor. The methods of teaching may be the same; but there will be a difference in the tone of voice and in the manner that will more or less puzzle the learner, and retard rather than advance his education. If, therefore, you resolve to break in your dog, do it entirely yourself; let no one interfere with you.
[14]. As a general rule, let his education begin when he is about six or seven months old[4]—although I allow that some dogs are more precocious than others, and bitches always more forward than dogs—but it ought to be nearly completed before he is shown a bird ([111]). A quarter of an hour's daily in-door training—called by the Germans "house-breaking"—for three or four weeks will effect more than a month's constant hunting without preliminary tuition.
[15]. Never take your young dog out of doors for instruction, until he has learnt to know and obey the several words of command which you intend to give him in the field, and is well acquainted with all the signs which you will have occasion to make to him with your arms. These are what may be called the initiatory lessons.
[16]. Think a moment, and you will see the importance of this preliminary instruction, though rarely imparted. Why should it be imagined that at the precise moment when a young dog is enraptured with the first sniff of game, he is, by some mysterious unaccountable instinct, to understand the meaning of the word "Toho?" Why should he not conceive it to be a word of encouragement to rush in upon the game, as he probably longs to do; especially if it is a partridge fluttering before him, in the sagacious endeavor to lure him from her brood, or a hare enticingly cantering off from under his nose? There are breakers who would correct him for not intuitively comprehending and obeying the "Toho," roared out with stentorian lungs; though, it is obvious, the youngster, from having had no previous instruction, could have no better reason for understanding its import than the watch-dog chained up in the adjacent farm-yard. Again he hears the word "Toho"—again followed by another licking, accompanied perhaps by the long lecture, "Ware springing birds, will you?" The word "Toho" then begins to assume a most awful character; he naturally connects it with the finding of game, and not understanding a syllable of the lecture, lest he should a third time hear it, and get a third drubbing, he judges it most prudent, unless he is a dog of very high courage, when next aware of the presence of birds, to come in to heel; and thus he commences to be a blinker, thanks to the sagacity and intelligence of his tutor. I do not speak of all professional dog-breakers,—far from it. Many are fully sensible that comprehension of orders must necessarily precede all but accidental obedience. I am only thinking of some whom it has been my misfortune to see, and who have many a time made my blood boil at their brutal usage of a fine high-couraged young dog. Men who had a strong arm and hard heart to punish—but no temper and no head to instruct.
[17]. So long as you are a bachelor, you can make a companion of your dog, without incurring the danger of his being spoilt by your wife and children; the more, by-the-bye, he is your own companion and nobody else's the better: and it is a fact, though you may smile at the assertion, that all the initiatory lessons can be, and can best be inculcated in your own breakfast-room.
[18]. Follow Astley's plan. Let no one be present to distract the dog's attention. Call him to you by the whistle you propose always using in the field. Tie a slight cord a few yards long to his collar. Throw him a small piece of toast or meat, saying at the time, "Dead, dead." Do this several times, chucking it into different parts of the room, and let him eat what he finds. Then throw a piece, always as you do so saying, "Dead," and the moment he gets close to it, check him by jerking the cord, at the same time saying, "Toho," and lifting up your right arm almost perpendicularly. By pressing on the cord with your foot, you can restrain him as long as you please. Do not let him take what you have thrown until you give him the encouraging word, "On," accompanied by a forward movement of the right arm and hand, somewhat similar to the swing of an under-hand bowler at cricket.
[19]. Let all your commands be given in a low voice. Consider that in the field, where you are anxious not to alarm the birds unnecessarily, your words must reach your dogs' ears more or less softened by distance, and, if their influence depends on loudness, they will have the least effect at the very moment when you wish them to have the most. For the same reason, in the initiatory lessons, be careful not to whistle loudly.
[20]. After a few trials with the checkcord, you will find yourself enabled, without touching it, and merely by using the word "Toho," to prevent his seizing the toast or meat, until you say "On," or give him the forward signal. When he gets yet more perfect in his lesson, raising your right arm only, without employing your voice, will be sufficient, especially if you have gradually accustomed him to hear you speak less and less loudly. If he draw towards the bread before he has obtained leave, jerk the cord, and drag him back to the spot from which he stirred. He is not to quit it until you order him, occupy yourself as you may. Move about, and occasionally go from him, as far as you can, before you give the command "On." This will make him less unwilling hereafter to continue steady at his point while you are taking a circuit to head him, and so get wild birds between him and your gun,—[179], [196]. The signal for his advancing, when you are facing him, is the "beckon"—see [33].
[21]. At odd times let him take the bread the moment you throw it, that his eagerness to rush forward to seize it may be continued, only to be instantly restrained at your command.
[22]. Your left arm raised perpendicularly, in a similar manner, should make the young dog lie down. Call out "Drop," when so holding up the left hand, and press him down with the other until he assumes a crouching position. If you study beauty of attitude, his fore-legs should be extended and his head rest between them. Make him lie well down, occasionally walking round and round him, gradually increasing the size of the circle—your eyes on his. Do not let him raise himself to a sitting posture. If you do, he will have the greater inclination hereafter to move about: especially when you want to catch him in order to chide or correct him. A stop is all you require for the "Toho," and you would prefer his standing to his point, rather than his lying down,[5] as you then would run less risk of losing sight of him in cover, heather, or high turnips, &c. Setters, however, naturally crouch so much more than Pointers, that you will often not be able to prevent their "falling" when they are close to game. Indeed, I have heard some sportsmen argue in favor of a dog's dropping, "that it rested him." An advantage, in my opinion, in no way commensurate with the inconvenience that often attends the practice.
[23]. If you are satisfied with teaching him in a slovenly manner, you can employ your right arm both for the "Toho" and "Drop;" but that is not quite correct, for the former is a natural stop—being the pause to determine exactly where the game is lying, preparatory to rushing in to seize it—which you prolong by art,[6] whilst the other is wholly opposed to nature. The one affords him great delight, especially when, from experience, he has learnt well its object: the latter is always irksome. Nevertheless, it must be firmly established. It is the triumph of your art. It ensures future obedience. But it cannot be effectually taught without creating more or less awe, and it should create awe. It is obvious, therefore, that it must be advantageous to make a distinction between the two signals—especially with a timid dog—for he will not then be so likely to blink on seeing you raise your right hand when he is drawing upon game. Nevertheless, there are breakers so unreasonable as not only to make that one signal, but the one word "Drop," or rather "Down," answer both for the order to point, and the order to crouch! How can such tuition serve to enlarge a dog's ideas?
[24]. To perfect him in the "Down," that difficult part of his education,—difficult, because it is unnatural,—practise it in your walks. At very uncertain, unexpected times catch his eye, having previously stealthily taken hold of the checkcord—a long, light one, or a whistle to call his attention, and then hold up your left arm. If he does not instantly drop, jerk the checkcord violently, and, as before, drag him back to the exact spot where he should have crouched down. Admit of no compromise. You must have implicit, unhesitating, instant obedience. When you quit him, he must not be allowed to crawl an inch after you. If he attempt it, drive a spike into the ground, and attach the end of the checkcord to it, allowing the line to be slack; then leave him quickly, and on his running after you he will be brought up with a sudden jerk. So much the better; it will slightly alarm him. As before, take him back to the precise place he quitted—do this invariably, though he may have scarcely moved. There make him again "Drop"—always observing to jerk the cord at the moment you give the command. After a few trials of this tethering, say less than a dozen, he will be certain to lie down steadily, until you give the proper order or a signal—[20]—let you run away, or do what you may to excite him to move. One great advantage of frequently repeating this lesson, and thus teaching it thoroughly, is that your dog will hereafter always feel, more or less, in subjection whenever the cord is fastened to his collar. He must be brought to instantly obey the signal, even at the extreme limit of his beat.
[25]. Most probably he will not at first rise when he is desired. There is no harm in that—a due sense of the inutility of non-compliance with the order of "Drop," and a wholesome dread of the attendant penalty, will be advantageous. Go up to him—pat him—and lead him for some paces, "making much of him," as they say in the cavalry. Dogs which are over-headstrong and resolute can only be brought under satisfactory command by this lesson being indelibly implanted—and I think a master before he allows the keeper to take a pup into the field to show him game, should insist upon having ocular demonstration that he is perfect in the "Drop."
[26]. When he is well confirmed in this all-important lesson, obeying implicitly, yet cheerfully, you may, whilst he is lying down—in order to teach him the "down charge"—go through the motions of loading, on no account permitting him to stir until you give him the forward signal, or say, "On." After a few times you may fire off a copper cap, and then a little powder, but be very careful not to alarm him. Until your dog is quite reconciled to the report of a gun, never take him up to any one who may be firing. I have, however, known of puppies being familiarized to the sound, by being at first kept at a considerable distance from the party firing, and then gradually and by slow degrees brought nearer. This can easily be managed at a rifle or pigeon match, and the companionship of a made-dog would much expedite matters. Whenever, in the lessons, your young dog has behaved steadily and well, give him a reward. Do not throw it to him: let him take it from your hands. It will assist in making him tender-mouthed, and in attaching him to you.
[27]. In some cavalry regiments in India, the feeding-time is denoted by the firing off of a pistol. This soon changes a young horse's first dread of the report into eager, joyous expectation. You might, if you did not dislike the trouble, in a similar manner, soon make your pup regard the report of a gun as the gratifying summons to his dinner, but coupled with the understanding that, as a preliminary step, he is to crouch the instant he hears the sound. After a little perseverance you would so well succeed, that you would not be obliged even to raise your hand. If habituated to wait patiently at the "drop," however hungry he may be, before he is permitted to taste his food, it is reasonable to think he will remain at the "down charge," yet more patiently before he is allowed to "seek dead."
[28]. If your pupil is unusually timid, and you cannot banish his alarm on hearing the gun, couple him to another dog which has no such foolish fears, and will steadily "down charge." The confidence of the one will impart confidence to the other. Fear and joy are feelings yet more contagious in animals than in man. It is the visible, joyous animation of the old horses, that so quickly reconciles the cavalry colt to the sound of the "feeding-pistol."
[29]. A keeper who had several dogs to break, would find the advantage of pursuing the cavalry plan just noticed. Indeed, he might extend it still further, by having his principal in-door drill at feeding-time, and by enforcing, but in minuter details, that kennel discipline which has brought many a pack of hounds to marvellous obedience. He should place the food in different parts of the yard. He should have a short checkcord on all his pupils; and, after going slowly through the motions of loading (the dogs having regularly "down-charged" on the report of the gun), he should call each separately by name, and by signals of the hand send them successively to different, but designated feeding-troughs.[7] He might then call a dog to him which had commenced eating, and after a short abstinence, make him go to another trough. He might bring two to his heels and make them change troughs, and so vary the lesson, that, in a short time, with the aid of the checkcords, he would have them under such complete command that they would afterwards give him comparatively but little trouble in the field. As they became more and more submissive he would gradually retire further and further, so as, at length, to have his orders obeyed when at a considerable distance from his pupils. The small portion of time these lessons would occupy compared with their valuable results should warn him most forcibly not to neglect them.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] But from his very infancy you ought not to have allowed him to be disobedient. You should have made him know—which he will do nearly intuitively—that a whip can punish him, though he ought never to have suffered from it. I have heard of pups only four months old being made quite au fait to the preliminary drill here recommended. This early exercise of their intelligence and observation must have benefited them. The questionable point is the unnecessary consumption of the instructor's time.
[5] This is one reason for giving initiatory lessons in the "Toho" before the "Drop." Another is that the dog may acquire the "Toho" before he has run the chance of being cowed in learning the "Drop." If the latter were taught first, he might confound the "Toho" with it.
[6] I know of a young man's reading the first edition of this book, and taking it into his head to teach his Terrier to point according to the method just recommended. He succeeded perfectly. Some Terriers have been made very useful for cover shooting.
[7] There is often such a similarity in the names of hounds, that a person cannot but be much struck, who for the first time sees them go to their meals, one by one as they are called.
CHAPTER III.
INITIATORY LESSONS CONTINUED. SPANIELS.
[30]. When your young dog is tolerably well advanced in the lessons which you have been advised to practise, hide a piece of bread or biscuit. Say "Dead, dead." Call him to you. ([40].) Let him remain by you for nearly a minute or two. Then say "Find," or "Seek." Accompany him in his search. By your actions and gestures make him fancy you are yourself looking about for something, for dogs are observing, one might say, imitative, creatures.[8] Stoop and move your right hand to and fro near the ground. Contrive that he shall come upon the bread, and reward him by permitting him to eat it.
[31]. After a little time—a few days I mean—he will show the greatest eagerness on your saying, at any unexpected moment, "Dead." He will connect the word with the idea that there is something very desirable concealed near him, and he will be all impatience to be off and find it; but make him first come to you—for reason, see [182].—Keep him half a minute.—Then say "Find," and, without your accompanying him, he will search for what you have previously hidden. Always let him be encouraged to perseverance by discovering something acceptable.
[32]. Unseen by him, place the rewards—one at a time—in different parts of the room,—under the rug or carpet, and more frequently on a chair, a table, or a low shelf. He will be at a loss in what part of the room to search. Assist him by a motion of your arm and hand. A wave of the right arm and hand to the right, will soon show him that he is to hunt to the right, as he will find there. The corresponding wave of the left hand and arm to the left, will explain to him, that he is to make a cast to the left. The underhand bowler's swing of the right hand and arm, will show that he is to hunt in a forward direction.[9] Your occasionally throwing the delicacy—in the direction you wish him to take,—whilst waving your hand, will aid in making him comprehend the signal. You may have noticed how well, by watching the action of a boy's arm, his little cur judges towards what point to run for the expected stone.
[33]. When the hidden object is near you, but between you and the dog, make him come towards you to seek for it, beckoning him with your right hand. When he is at a distance at the "Drop," if you are accustomed to recompense him for good behavior, you can employ this signal to make him rise and run towards you for his reward—and according to my judgment he should always join you after the "down charge,"—[184]. By these means you will thus familiarize him with a very useful signal; for that signal will cause him to approach you in the field, when you have made a circuit to head him at his point—knowing that birds will then be lying somewhere between you and him—and want him to draw nearer to the birds and you, to show you exactly where they are. This some may call a superfluous refinement, but I hope you will consider it a very killing accomplishment, and, being easily taught, it were a pity to neglect it. When a Setter is employed in cock-shooting, the advantage of using this signal is very apparent. While the dog is steadily pointing, it enables the sportsman to look for a favorable opening, and, when he has posted himself to his satisfaction, to sign to the Setter—or if out of sight to tell him—to advance and flush the bird: when, should the sportsman have selected his position with judgment, he will generally get a shot. I have seen this method very successfully adopted in America, where the forests are usually so dense that cocks are only found on the outskirts in the underwood.
[34]. After a little time he will regularly look to you for directions. Encourage him to do so; it will make him hereafter, when he is in the field, desirous of hunting under your eye, and induce him to look to you, in a similar manner, for instructions in what direction he is to search for game. Observe how a child watches its mother's eye; so will a dog watch yours, when he becomes interested in your movements, and finds that you frequently notice him.
[35]. Occasionally, when he approaches any of the spots where the bread lies hidden, say "Care," and slightly raise your right hand. He will quickly consider this word, or signal, as an intimation that he is near the object of his search.
[36]. Never deceive him in any of these words and signs, and never disappoint him of the expected reward. Praise and caress him for good conduct; rate him for bad. Make it a rule throughout the whole course of his education, out of doors as fully as within, to act upon this system. You will find that caresses and substantial rewards are far greater incentives to exertion than any fears of punishment.
[37]. Your pup having become a tolerable proficient in these lessons, you may beneficially extend them by employing the word "Up," as a command that he is to sniff high in the air to find the hidden bread or meat, lying, say on a shelf, or on the back of a sofa. He will, comparatively speaking, be some time in acquiring a knowledge of the meaning of the word, and many would probably term it an over-refinement in canine education; but I must own I think you will act judiciously if you teach it perfectly in the initiatory lessons; for the word "Up," if well understood, will frequently save your putting on the puzzle-peg. For this you might be tempted to employ, should your dog be acquiring the execrable habit of "raking," as it is termed, instead of searching for the delicious effluvia with his nose carried high in the air.
[38]. Whenever birds can be sought for in the wind, the dog should thus hunt the field—and the higher he carries his nose the better—for, independently of the far greater chance of finding them, they will allow the dog to come much nearer than when he approaches them by the foot: but of this more anon.
[39]. Setters and Pointers naturally hunt with their noses sufficiently close to the ground—they want elevating rather than depressing. Notwithstanding, you will do well to show your pupil a few times out of doors how to work out a scent, by dragging a piece of bread unperceived by him down wind through grass, and then letting him "foot" it out. Try him for a few yards at first; you can gradually increase the length of the drag. You must not, however, practise this initiatory lesson too frequently, lest you give him the wretched custom of pottering.
[40]. The word "Heel," and a backward low wave of the right hand and arm to the rear—the reverse of the underhand cricket-bowler's swing—will, after a few times, bring the dog close behind you. Keep him there a while and pat him, but do not otherwise reward him. The object of the order was to make him instantly give up hunting, and come to your heels. This signal cannot be substituted for the "beckon." The one is an order always obeyed with reluctance—being a command to leave off hunting—whereas the "beckon" is merely an instruction in what direction to beat, and will be attended to with delight. The signal "heel," however, when given immediately after loading, is an exception; for the instructions about "Dead" in xi. of [141], will show that without your speaking it may be made to impart the gratifying intelligence of your having killed. See also [190].
[41]. To teach him to attach a meaning to the word "Gone," or "Away," or "Flown,"[10]—select which you will, but do not ring the changes—you may now rub a piece of meat—if you have no one but your servant to scold you—in some place where the dog is accustomed frequently to find, and when he is sniffing at the place say "Gone," or "Away." This he will, after some trials, perceive to be an intimation that it is of no use to continue hunting for it.
[42]. You will greatly facilitate his acquiring the meaning of the command "Fence," or "Ware-fence," if, from time to time, as he is quitting the room through the open door or garden window, you restrain him by calling out that word.
[43]. Whenever, indeed, you wish him to desist from doing anything, call out "Ware,"—pronounced "War"—as it will expedite his hereafter understanding the terms "Ware sheep," "Ware chase," and "Ware lark." The last expression to be used when he is wasting his time upon the scent of anything but game—a fault best cured by plenty of birds being killed to him. However, the simple word "No," omitting "Chase" or "Fence," might be substituted advantageously for "Ware." All you want him to do is to desist from a wrong action. That sharp sound—and when necessary it can be clearly thundered out—cannot be misunderstood.
[44]. That your young dog may not hereafter resist the couples, yoke him occasionally to a stronger dog, and for the sake of peace, and in the name of all that is gallant, let it be to the one of the other sex who appears to be the greatest favorite.
[45]. When he is thus far advanced in his education, and tolerably obedient, which he will soon become if you are consistent, and patient, yet strict, you can, in further pursuance of Astley's plan, associate him in his lessons with a companion. Should you be breaking in another youngster—though one at a time you will probably find quite enough, especially if it be your laudable wish to give him hereafter a well confirmed scientific range—they can now be brought together for instruction. You must expect to witness the same jealousy which they would exhibit on the stubble. Both will be anxious to hunt for the bread, and in restraining them alternately from so doing, you exact the obedience which you will require hereafter in the field, when in their natural eagerness they will endeavor, unless you properly control them, to take the point of birds from one another; or, in their rivalry, run over the taint of a wounded bird, instead of collectedly and perseveringly working out the scent. You can throw a bit of toast, and make them "Toho" it, and then let the dog you name take it. In the same way you can let each alternately search for a hidden piece, after both have come up to you, on your saying "Dead." I would also advise you to accustom each dog to "drop," without any command from you, the moment he sees that the other is down.
[46]. Those lessons will almost ensure their hereafter instantly obeying, and nearly instantly comprehending the object of the signal to "back" any dog which may be pointing game.
[47]. When you take out two youngsters for exercise, while they are romping about, suddenly call one into "heel." After a time again send him off on his gambols. Whistle to catch the eye of the other, and signal to him to join you. By working them thus alternately, while they are fresh and full of spirits, you will habituate them to implicit obedience. When the birds are wild, and you are anxious to send a basket of game to a friend, it is very satisfactory to be able merely by a sign, without uttering a word, to bring the other dogs into "heel," leaving the ground to the careful favorite. Teach the present lesson well, and you go far towards attaining the desired result.
[48]. I trust you will not object to the minutiæ of these initiatory lessons, and fancy you have not time to attend to them. By teaching them well you will gain time,—much time,—and the time that is of most value to you as a sportsman; for when your dog is regularly hunting to your gun his every faculty ought to be solely devoted to finding birds, and his undisturbed intellects exclusively given to aid you in bagging them, instead of being bewildered by an endeavor to comprehend novel signals or words of command. I put it to you as a sportsman, whether he will not have the more delight and ardor in hunting, the more he feels that he understands your instructions? and, further, I ask you, whether he will not be the more sensitively alive to the faintest indication of a haunt, and more readily follow it up to a sure find, if he be unembarrassed by any anxiety to make out what you mean, and be in no way alarmed at the consequences of not almost instinctively understanding your wishes?
[49]. In all these lessons, and those which follow in the field, the checkcord will wonderfully assist you. Indeed it may be regarded as the instructor's right hand. It can be employed so mildly as not to intimidate the most gentle, and it can, without the aid of any whip, be used with such severity, or I should rather say perseverance, as to conquer the most wild and headstrong, and these are sure to be dogs of the greatest travel and endurance. The cord may be from ten to twenty-five[11] yards long, according to the animal's disposition, and may be gradually shortened as he gets more and more under command. Even when it is first employed you can put on a shorter cord if you perceive that he is becoming tired. In thick stubble, especially if cut with a sickle, the drag will be greater, far greater than when the cord glides over heather. The cord may be of the thickness of what some call strong lay-cord, but made of twelve threads. Sailors would know it by the name of log-line or cod-line. To save the end from fraying it can be whipped with thread, which is better than tying a knot, because it is thus less likely to become entangled.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Imitative creatures! who can doubt it? If you make an old dog perform a trick several times in the sight of a young one who is watching the proceedings, you will be surprised to see how quickly the young one will learn the trick, especially if he has seen that the old dog was always rewarded for his obedience.
[9] Obedience to all such signals will hereafter be taught out of doors at gradually increased distances; and to confirm him in the habit of sniffing high in the air ([37]) for whatever you may then hide, put the bread or meat on a stick or bush, but never in a hedge. With the view to his some day retrieving, as instanced in [190], it will be your aim to get him not to seek immediately, but to watch your signals, until by obeying them you will have placed him close to where the object lies, at which precise moment you will say energetically "Find," and cease making any further signs.
[10] The least comprehensive and logical of the expressions, yet one often used. A dog being no critical grammarian, understands it to apply to fur as well as feather.
[11] With a resolute, reckless, dashing dog you may advantageously employ a thinner cord of double that length,—whereas, the shortest line will sometimes prevent a timid animal from ranging freely. By-the-bye, the thinner the cord the more readily does it become entangled—as a rule, a checkcord cannot be too firmly twisted—a soft one quickly gets knotted and troublesome. (See note to [177].)
[50]. Hunted with such a cord, the most indomitable dog, when he is perfectly obedient to the "drop," is nearly as amenable to command as if the end of the line were in the breaker's hand. By no other means can
SPANIELS
be quickly broken in. The general object of the trainer is to restrain them from ranging at a distance likely to spring game out of gun-shot, and to make them perfect to the "down charge." If one of these high-spirited animals will not range close when called to by whistle or name, the breaker gets hold of the cord and jerks it; this makes the dog come in a few paces; another jerk or two makes him approach closer, and then the breaker, by himself retiring with his face towards the spaniel, calling out his name—or whistling,—and occasionally jerking the cord, makes him quite submissive, and more disposed to obey on future occasions.
[51]. In training a large team it is of much advantage to the keeper to have a lad to rate, and, when necessary, give the skirters a taste of the lash—in short, to act as whipper-in. The keeper need not then carry a whip, or at least often use it, which will make his spaniels all the more willing to hunt close to him.
[52]. Lord A——r's head gamekeeper was singularly aided—he possessed a four-legged whipper-in. Three years since while Mr. D——s—M.P. for a South Eastern County—was with a shooting party at his Lordship's, the keeper brought into the field a brace of powerful retrievers, and a team of spaniels, among which were two that had never been shot over. On the first pheasant being killed all the old spaniels dropped to shot, but one of the young ones rushed forward and mouthed the bird. The person who had fired ran on to save the bird, but the keeper called aloud, and requested him not to move. The man then made a signal to one of the retrievers to go. He did so instantly, but, instead of meddling with the bird, he seized the spaniel, lifted him up, and shook him well. The moment the pup could escape he came howling to the "heels" of the keeper, and lay down among his companions. The keeper then confessed that a couple of the spaniels had never been shot to—but he confidently assured the sportsmen they would see before the day was over that the pups behaved fully as steadily as the old dogs, and explained to the party how the retriever did all the disagreeable work, and indeed nearly relieved him of every trouble in breaking in the youngsters. On the next few shots this novel schoolmaster was again deputed to show his pupils that he would not allow his special duties as a retriever to be interfered with. Both the young dogs, having been thus well chastised, became more careful—made only partial rushes to the front, when a recollection of their punishment and a dread of their four-footed tutor brought them slinking back to their older companions. As the keeper had averred, they soon learned their lesson completely—gave up all thought of chasing after shot, and quietly crouched down with the other dogs.
[53]. I can easily imagine that it was a feeling of jealousy which first prompted the retriever to thrash some spaniel who was endeavoring to carry off a bird, and that the clever keeper encouraged him in doing so, instantly perceiving the value of such assistance. It is worth a consideration whether it would not be advisable to train the retriever employed with a team to give this assistance. A dog of a quarrelsome disposition could be taught, by your urging him, to seize any spaniel who might be mouthing a bird, in the same manner you would set on a young terrier to fly at a rat.
[54]. Doubtless it is the highest training to teach a team to "down-charge," but most breakers make their spaniels come into "heel," or rather gather close around them—by the word "round"—whenever a gun is discharged. This plan, though so injudicious in the case of pointers or setters, is but little objectionable in the case of spaniels, for spaniels in their small sweep inwards are not likely to spring game while the guns are unloaded. It certainly possesses this merit, that it is readily taught to puppies—with the aid of a whipper-in—by the trainer's giving them some delicacy on their rejoining him. It may be urged too that the method much removes any necessity for noise in calling to a dog—whereas, with a team trained to the "down-charge," however highly broken, it will occasionally happen that the keeper—or assistant—has to rate some excited skirter for not instantly "dropping." Moreover, in thick cover, an infraction of the irksome rule to "down charge" may sometimes escape detection, which might lead to future acts of insubordination. Prince Albert's team of Clumbers "down-charge," but the greatest attention is paid to them. They are admirably broken, and I may add, are shot over by a first-rate hand.
[55]. When exercising young spaniels it is a good plan to habituate them, even as puppies, never to stray further from you than about twenty yards. With them, even more than with other kinds of dogs trained for the gun, great pains should be taken to prevent their having the opportunity of "self-hunting." If it is wished to break from hare, the method to be followed is mentioned in [233], &c., for with spaniels as with setters—or pointers—it is always advisable to drag them back to the spot from which they started in pursuit.
[56]. Occasionally you may see a country blacksmith when preparing to shoe the hind legs of a cart horse that appears disposed to make a disagreeable use of his heels, twist the long hair at the end of his tail,—raise the foot that is to be shod,—pass the twisted hair round the leg immediately above the hock, and by these means press the tendon close to the bone. The tail assists in retaining the leg in position, and thus, for the time, the limb is rendered powerless. Acting much upon this coercive principle, but discarding the aid of the tail, some breakers slightly confine a hind-leg of their most unruly spaniels with a soft bandage, shifting it from one leg to the other about every hour. Possibly a loop of vulcanized india-rubber, being elastic, would best answer the purpose. Restrained in this manner a dog is less likely to tumble about, and become injured, than if one of his fore legs had been passed through his collar. Other breakers, when hunting many couple together, fasten a belt with a few pounds of shot round the necks of the wildest. But the sooner such adjuncts to discipline can be safely discarded the better; for "brushing" a close cover is severe work. Gorse is the most trying[12]. Its prickles are so numerous and fine that the ears and eyes of every spaniel hunted in it ought to be separately examined on returning home, and well bathed in warm water. Their eyes are peculiarly liable to be injured by dust and gravel from their hunting so close to the ground.
[57]. To give young spaniels sufficient courage to face the most entangled cover, a judicious trainer will occasionally introduce them to thick brakes, or gorse, early in the morning, or in the evening, when the noise of his approach will have made the pheasants feeding in the neighborhood run far into it for shelter. The effluvia of the birds will then so excite the young dogs, especially if cheered with good companionship—which always creates emulation—that they will utterly disregard the pricks and scratches of the strongest furze.
[58]. If the time of year will permit, they should be shown game when about nine or ten months old. At a more advanced age they would be less amenable to control. Happily the example of a riotous pup will not be as detrimental to the discipline of the rest of the team as the example of an ill-conducted companion would be to a pointer—or setter—for the influence of thoroughly steady spaniels makes the pup curtail his range sooner than might be expected. Finding that he is not followed by his associates he soon rejoins them.
[59]. A judicious breaker will regard perfection in the "drop"—[22 to 25]—as the main-spring of his educational system. He will teach his young spaniels to "seek dead"—[30], [31], [39]—where directed by signs of the hand. He will instruct them in "fetching"—[92], [94]. &c.—with the view to some of them hereafter retrieving. He will accustom them to hunt hedge-rows, and light open copses—because always under his eye—before taking them into closer cover. Nor until they are under some command, and well weaned from noticing vermin and small birds, will he allow them to enter gorse or strong thickets, and then he will never neglect—though probably he will have used them before—to attach bells of different sounds to the collars of his several pupils—one to each—so that his ear may at all times detect any truant straying beyond bounds, and thus enable him to rate the delinquent by name. In this manner he establishes the useful feeling elsewhere spoken of—[262]—that whether he be within or out of sight he is equally aware of every impropriety that is committed.
[60]. Young spaniels, when they have been steadily broken in not to hunt too far ahead on the instructor's side of the hedge, may be permitted to beat on the other—and this when only one person is shooting is generally their most useful position, for they are thus more likely to drive the game towards the gun.
[61]. If a keeper is hunting the team, while you and a friend are beating narrow belts or strips of wood, should you and he be placed, as is usual, on the outside, a little ahead of the keeper—one to his right, the other to his left—you would much aid him in preventing the young spaniels from ranging wildly were you to turn your face towards him whenever you saw any of them getting too far in advance, for they will watch the guns as much as they will him.
[62]. Among spaniels the great advantage of age and experience is more apparent than in partridge-dogs. A young spaniel cannot keep to a pheasant's tail like an old one. He may push the bird for forty or fifty yards if judiciously managed. After that he is almost sure from impatience either to lose it, or rush in and flush out of shot, whereas an old cocker, who has had much game shot over him, is frequently knowing enough to slacken his pace, instead of increasing it, when he first touches on birds, apparently quite sensible that he ought to give the gun time to approach before he presses to a flush.
[63]. Even good spaniels, however well bred, if they have not had great experience, generally road too fast. Undeniably they are difficult animals to educate, and it requires much watchfulness, perseverance, and attention at an early age, so to break in a team of young ones that they shall keep within gun range without your being compelled to halloo or whistle to them. But some few are yet more highly trained.
[64]. Mr. N——n, when in France, had a lively, intelligent, liver and white cocker which would work busily all day long within gun-shot; and which possessed the singular accomplishment of steadily pointing all game that lay well, and of not rushing in until the sportsman had come close to him. But this is a case of high breaking more curious than useful, for spaniels are essentially springers, not pointers, and the little animal must frequently have been lost sight of in cover. Our grandfathers used to apply the term springers solely to large spaniels—never to the Duke of Marlborough's small breed, which was greatly prized.
[65]. A dog is generally most attached to that description of sport, and soonest recognises the scent of that game, to which he has principally been accustomed in youth. He will through life hunt most diligently where he first had the delight of often finding. The utility therefore is obvious of introducing spaniels at an early age to close covers and hedge-rows, and setters and pointers to heather and stubble.
[66]. In spaniels, feathered sterns and long ears are much admired, but obviously the latter must suffer in thick underwood. The chief requisite in all kinds of spaniels, is, that they be good finders, and have noses so true that they will never overrun a scent. Should they do so when footing an old cock[13] pheasant, the chances are that he will double back on the exact line by which he came. They should be high-mettled,—as regardless of the severest weather as of the most punishing cover, and ever ready to spring into the closest thicket the moment a pointed finger gives the command.
[67]. A comprehension of the signal made by the finger—which is far neater than the raising of the hand described in [30], but not so quickly understood—might with advantage be imparted to all dogs trained for the gun, in order to make them hunt close exactly where directed. It is usually taught by pointing with the fore-finger of the right hand to pieces of biscuit, previously concealed, near easily recognised tufts of grass, weeds, &c. It is beautiful to see how correctly, promptly, yet quietly, some spaniels will work in every direction thus indicated.
[68]. Breasting a strong cover with cockers, is more suited to young, than to old men. The gun must follow rapidly, and stick close when a dog is on the road of feather. A shot will then infallibly be obtained, if a good dog be at work; for the more closely a bird is pressed, the hotter gets the scent. If a pheasant found in thick cover on marshy ground near water—a locality they much like in hot weather—is not closely pushed, he will so twist, and turn, and double upon old tracks that none but the most experienced dogs will be able to stick to him.
[69]. The preceding observations respecting spaniels apply to all descriptions employed on land-service, whether of the strong kind, the Sussex breed and the Clumber, or the smallest cockers, Blenheims and King Charles'. But whether they are to be trained not to hunt flick[14]—the most difficult part of their tuition, and in which there is generally most failure,—and whether they shall be bred to give tongue, or run mute, will depend much upon the nature of the country to be hunted, and yet more upon the taste of the proprietor. No fixed rules can be given for a sport that varies so much as cover-shooting.
[70]. Of the large kind, most sportsmen will think a couple and a half a sufficient number to hunt at a time. Certainly one of them should retrieve: and they ought to be well broken in not to notice flick. These dogs are most esteemed when they run mute. If they do, they must be hunted with bells in very thick cover; but the less bells are employed the better, for the tinkling sound, in a greater or smaller degree, annoys all game. Such dogs, when good, are very valuable.
[71]. I once shot over a team of Clumber spaniels belonging to Mr. D——z.[15] The breed—the Duke of Newcastle's, taking their name from one of his seats—are mostly white with a little lemon color, have large, sensible heads, thick, short legs, silky coats, carry their sterns low, and hunt perfectly mute. The team kept within twenty or twenty-five yards of the keeper, were trained to acknowledge rabbits, as well as all kinds of game; and in the country Mr. D——z was then shooting over afforded capital sport. One of the spaniels was taught to retrieve. He would follow to any distance, and seldom failed to bring. A regular retriever was, however, generally taken out with them. Mr. D——z told me that they required very judicious management, and encouragement rather than severity, as undue whipping soon made them timid. They are of a delicate constitution. He rather surprised me by saying that his spaniels from working quietly and ranging close,—therefore, alarming the birds less,—procured him far more shots in turnips than his pointers; and he had three that looked of the right sort. He explained matters, however, by telling me that it was his practice to make a circuit round the outskirts of a turnip or a potato field before hunting the inner parts. This of course greatly tended to prevent the birds breaking. A juvenile sportsman would rejoice in the services of the spaniels, for many a rabbit would they procure for him without the aid of powder and shot.
[72]. When Colonel M——, who died in Syria, was stationed with his troop of Horse Artillery at Pontefract, he was asked to shoot partridges at Lord P——n's seat in Yorkshire. On meeting the gamekeeper, according to appointment, he found him surrounded by a team of Clumber spaniels. Colonel M——, in some surprise at seeing no setters or pointers, remarked that he had expected some partridge shooting. "I know it," answered the man, "and I hope to show you some sport." To the inquiry why one of the spaniels was muzzled, the keeper said that his master had threatened to shoot it should it again give tongue, and, as it possessed a particularly fine nose, he—the keeper—was anxious not to lose it. They walked on, and soon the man told M—— to be prepared, as the spaniels were feathering. A covey rose. The Colonel, who was a good shot, killed right and left. All the spaniels dropped instantly. When he was reloading the keeper begged him to say which of the dogs should retrieve the game. M—— pointed to a broad-headed dog lying in the middle, when the keeper directed by name the spaniel so favored to be off. It quickly fetched one of the birds. The keeper then asked M—— to choose some other dog to bring the remaining bird—a runner. He did so, and the animal he selected to act as retriever performed the duty very cleverly; the rest of the team remaining quite still, until its return.
The Colonel had capital sport, killing nearly twenty brace, and the dogs behaved beautifully throughout the day. When afterwards relating the circumstances, he observed that, although an old sportsman, he had seldom been so gratified, as it was a novel scene to him, who had not been accustomed to shoot over spaniels.
[73]. Of small cockers, three couple appear ample to form a team. Some teams of small springers greatly exceed this number, and many sportsmen shoot over more than a couple and a half of the larger spaniels; but it is a question whether, in the generality of cases, the gun would not benefit by the number being diminished rather than increased. The smaller in number the team, the greater is the necessity that none of them should stick too close to "heel." The difficulty is to make them hunt far enough, and yet not too far. At least one of the number should retrieve well. If they give tongue, it ought to be in an intelligible manner; softly, when they first come on the haunt of a cock, but making the cover ring again with their joyous melody, when once the bird is flushed. A first rate cocker will never deceive by opening upon an old haunt, nor yet find the gun unprepared by delaying to give due warning before he flushes the bird. When cocks are abundant, some teams are broken, not only to avoid flick, but actually not to notice a pheasant, or anything besides woodcock. Hardly any price would tempt a real lover of cock-shooting, in a cocking country, to part with such a team. Hawker terms the sport, "the fox-hunting of shooting." Some sportsmen kill water-hens to young spaniels to practise them in forcing their way through entangled covers, and get them well in hand and steady against the all-important cocking season.
[74]. When a regular retriever can be constantly employed with spaniels, of course it will be unnecessary to make any of them fetch game—certainly never to lift anything which falls out of bounds—though all the team should be taught to "seek dead." This is the plan pursued by the Duke of Newcastle's keepers, and obviously it is the soundest and easiest practice, for it must always be more or less difficult to make a spaniel keep within his usual hunting limits, who is occasionally encouraged to pursue wounded game, at his best pace, to a considerable distance.
[75]. Other teams are broken no more than to keep within range, being allowed to hunt all kinds of game, and also rabbits; they, however, are restricted from pursuing wounded flick further than fifty or sixty yards. Where rabbits are abundant, and outlying, a team thus broken affords lively sport—nothing escapes them.
[76]. Wild spaniels, though they may show you most cock, will get you fewest shots, unless you have well-placed markers. There are sportsmen who like to take out one steady dog to range close to them, and a couple of wild ones to hunt on the flanks, one on each side, expressly that the latter may put up birds for the markers to take note of.
[77]. An old sportsman knows mute spaniels to be most killing: a young one may prefer those which give tongue—if true from the beginning owning nothing but game,—because, though undeniably greater disturbers of a cover, they are more cheerful and animating. The superiority of the former is, however, apparent on a still calm day, when the least noise will make the game steal away long before the gun gets within shot. But it is not so in all countries.
[78]. In very thick covers it is obvious, the height of setters being greatly against them, that spaniels are far preferable: but in light covers, and when the leaves are off the trees, handy old setters—if white, all the better—that will readily confine themselves to a restricted range, and will flush their game when ordered—IV. and VII. of [119] and [196]—afford quite as much sport, if not more. Setters do not, to the same degree, alarm birds; and there is, also, this advantage, that they can be employed on all occasions, excepting in low gorse or the closest thickets, whereas spaniels, from their contracted "beat," are nearly useless in the open when game is scarce. You will be prepared, when first you hunt a setter in cover, to sacrifice much of your sport. There must be noise; for it is essential to make him at once thoroughly understand the very different "beat" required of him, and this can only be effected by constantly checking and rating him, whenever he ranges beyond the prescribed limits. He should hunt slowly and carefully to the right and left, and never be much in advance of the guns. In a short time he will comprehend matters, if you are so forbearing and judicious as invariably to call him away from every point made the least out of bounds. A less severe test of your consistency will not suffice. The few first days will either make or mar him as a cover-dog. You must naturally expect that hunting him much in cover will injure his range in the open, and make him too fond of hedge-rows.
[79]. But there is a man in Yorkshire, who will not willingly admit this.[16] C——e, Sir George A——e's gamekeeper—and a good one he is, for he has a particularly difficult country to protect, one intersected with "rights of way" in every direction—makes his pointers as freely hunt the cover as the open. You never lose them, for they are sure to make their appearance when they think they have given you ample time to go to them if you choose. This cover work does not the least unsteady them, but it is right to state that C—— is an unusually good breaker, and works his dogs with singular temper and patience. They are very attached to him, and appear to listen anxiously to what he says when he talks to them—which, I own, he does more than I recommend.
[80]. Pointers, however, are manifestly out of place in strong cover, though an unusually high-couraged one may occasionally be found, who will dash forward in defiance of pricks and scratches; but it is not fair to expect it. In a very light cover I have often shot over one belonging to a relation of mine, which was so clever, that when I came close to her as she was pointing, she would frequently run around to the other side of the thicket, and then rush in to drive the game towards me. This killing plan had in no way been taught her; she adopted it solely of her own sagacity. Having been much hunted in cover when young, she was so fond of it ([65]) as to be, comparatively speaking, quite unserviceable on the stubbles.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] There is no gorse in America. It is a prickly shrub, severe enough, but nothing to compare to catbriars, or even to the hollies of Southern Jersey.—H.W.H.
[13] The only bird which we have in America, at all analogous in habit to the pheasant, though totally different in species and appearance, is the Ruffed Grouse, erroneously called Pheasant in the South, and Partridge in the Eastern States. It is, however, for cock and quail shooting in covert, that the Spaniel would be of such inestimable service to sportsmen in North America.—H.W.H.
[14] For the benefit of those who have the good fortune, or the bad fortune, as the case may be, of always living within the sound of Bow bells, "Flick," be it observed, is a synonym for "Fur," thereby meaning Hare or Rabbit.
[15] Contrary to my usual system, I preserve these anecdotes, as relating to the Clumber Spaniels, which are so little known, and which I so much desire to see introduced in America.—H.W.H.
[16] I leave these two anecdotes, contrary to my usual system, as we use setters and pointers so generally in cover in America, that the idea of their being utterly unfit for cover work seems strange. Yet such is the opinion in England, and where they are chiefly used in the open it does operate to spoil their range.—H.W.H.
WATER SPANIELS (OR WATER RETRIEVERS).
[81]. A young water spaniel might, with advantage, occasionally be indulged with a duck hunt in warm weather. It would tend to make him quick in the water, and observant. The finishing lessons might conclude with your shooting the bird and obliging him to retrieve it. He should be made handy to your signals—IV. to VII. and X. of [119]—so as to hunt the fens and marshes, and "seek dead" exactly where you may wish.
[82]. This obedience to the hand is particularly required; for when the spaniel is swimming he is on a level with the bird, and therefore is not so likely to see it—especially if there is a ripple on the water—as you, who probably are standing many feet above him on the shore. As you may frequently, while he is retrieving, have occasion to direct his movements when at a considerable distance from him, you probably would find it more advantageous to teach him the forward signal used by shepherds, than the one described in IV. of [119].
[83]. A water spaniel should also be taught to fetch—[86], [87], [91] to [94]—be accustomed to follow quietly close to your heels,—be broken in, not to the "down charge"—[26]—but to the "drop"—[22] to [25]—the instant you signal to him, while you are noiselessly stalking the wild-fowl previously reconnoitred, with the aid of your Dollond, from some neighboring height; nor should he stir a limb, however long he and you may have to await, ensconced behind a favoring bush, the right moment for the destructive raking discharge of your first barrel, to be followed by the less murderous but still effective flying shot. On hearing the report, it is his duty to dash instantly into the water, and secure the slain as rapidly as possible.
[84]. A really good water retriever is a scarce and valuable animal. He should be neither white nor black, because the colors are too conspicuous, especially the former—a hint by-the-bye for your own costume;[17]—he should be perfectly mute; of a patient disposition, though active in the pursuit of birds; of so hardy a constitution as not to mind the severest cold,—therefore no coddling while he is young near a fire,—and possess what many are deficient in, viz. a good nose: consequently a cross that will improve his nose, yet not decrease his steadiness, is the great desideratum in breeding. He should swim rapidly, for wild fowl that are only winged, will frequently escape from the quickest dog if they have plenty of sea-room and deep water—see also [96], [302].
[85]. In the wild-rice lakes, as they are commonly called, of America, a brace of highly-trained spaniels will sometimes, on a windy day, afford you magnificent sport. The cover is so good that, if it is not often beaten, the birds will frequently get up singly, or only a couple at a time. The dogs should keep swimming about within gun shot, while you are slowly and silently paddling, or probably poling your canoe through the most likely spots. Relays of spaniels are requisite, for it is fatiguing work. If, by any rare chance, you are situated where you can get much of this delightful shooting, and you are an enthusiast in training, it may be worth your while to consider whether there would not be an advantage in making the dogs perfect in the "down charge," as they would then cease swimming the instant you fired. But this long digression about spaniels has led us away from your pup, which we assumed—[3]—to be a pointer, or setter.
FOOTNOTES:
[17] But when the moors are covered with snow, poachers, who emerge in bands from the mines, often put a shirt over their clothes, and manage to approach grouse at a time when a fair sportsman cannot get a shot; but this is the only occasion on which one uniform color could be advantageous. A mass of any single color always catches, and arrests the eye. Nature tells us this; animals that browse, elephants, buffaloes, and large deer, as well as those which can escape from their enemies by speed, are mostly of one color. On the contrary, the tiger kind, snakes, and all that lie in wait for, and seize their prey by stealth, wear a garment of many colors, so do the smaller animals and most birds, which are saved from capture by the inability of their foes to distinguish them from the surrounding foliage or herbage. The uniform of our rifle corps is too much of one hue.
CHAPTER IV.
LESSONS IN "FETCHING."—RETRIEVERS.
[86]. Though you may not wish your young pointer (or setter) to perform the duties of a regular retriever ([292]), still you would do well to teach him, whilst he is a puppy, to fetch and deliver into your hand anything soft you may occasionally throw for him, or leave behind you in some place where he will have observed you deposit it, while he is following at your heels. In a little time you can drop something without letting him see you, and afterwards send him back for it. A dog thus made, who is your intimate companion, becomes so conversant with every article of your apparel, and with whatever you usually carry about you, that, should you accidentally drop anything, the observant animal will be almost certain to recover it. On receiving your order to "be off and find" he will accurately retrace your footsteps for miles and miles, diligently hunting every yard of the ground. Of course the distances to which you at first send your dog will be inconsiderable, and you should carefully avoid persevering too long a time, lest he get sick of the lesson. Indeed, in all his lessons—as well in-doors as out—but particularly in this, let it be your aim to leave off at a moment when he has performed entirely to your satisfaction; that you may part the best of friends, and that the last impression made by the lesson may be pleasing as well as correct, from a grateful recollection of the caresses which he has received. In wild-duck shooting you may be in situations where you would be very glad if the dog would bring your bird; and when it is an active runner in cover, I fear you will be more anxious than I could wish—[221]—that the dog should "fetch." It is probable that he will thus assist you if he be practised as I have just advised; and such instruction may lead, years hence, to his occasionally bringing you some dead bird which he may come across, and which you otherwise might have imagined you had missed, for its scent might be too cold, and consequently too changed, for the dog to have thought of regularly pointing it.
[87]. Mark my having said "deliver into your hand," that your young dog may not be satisfied with only dropping, within your sight, any bird he may lift, and so, perhaps, leave it on the other side of a trout stream, as I have seen dogs do more than once, in spite of every persuasion and entreaty. With a young dog, who retrieves, never pick up a bird yourself, however close it may fall to you. Invariably, make him either deliver it into your hand or lay it at your feet. The former is by far the better plan. If the dog has at one moment to drop the bird at your will, he is likely to fancy himself privileged to drop it at another time for his own convenience. In other respects, too, the former is the safest method. I have a bitch now in my recollection, who frequently lost her master slightly winged birds,—which she had admirably recovered—by dropping them too soon on hearing the report of a gun, or coming on other game—for off they ran, and fairly escaped, it being impracticable, by any encouragement, to induce her to seek for a bird she had once lifted.
[88]. I observed it was something soft which you should teach your dog to fetch. Probably you have seen a retriever taught to seek and bring a stone, upon which, in a delicate manner, the tutor has spit. Does it not stand to reason that the stone must have tended to give his pupil a hard mouth? And what may, later in life, cause him much misery, in dashing at a bounding stone, he may split a tooth. Dogs of an advanced age suffer more in their mouths than most of us suspect.
[89]. Should your pup be unwilling to enter water, on no account push him in, under the mistaken idea that it will reconcile him to the element—it will but augment his fears. Rather, on a warm day, throw some biscuit for him, when he is hungry, close to the edge of the bank, where it is so shallow as merely to require his wading. Chuck the next piece a little further off, and, by degrees, increase the distance until he gets beyond his depth, and finds that nature has given him useful swimming powers. On no occasion will the example of another dog more assist you. Your youngster's diving can never be of service; therefore throw in only what will float. Otherwise he might have a plunge for nothing, and so be discouraged; and evidently it should be your constant aim to avoid doing anything likely to shake his confidence in you.
[90]. If you ever have occasion to teach a dog to dive and retrieve, first accustom him, on land, to fetch something heavy, of a conspicuous color. When he brings it eagerly, commence your diving lesson by throwing it into the shallowest parts of the stream. Only by slow degrees get to deep water, and let your lessons be very short. Never chuck in a stone. The chances are twenty to one that there are several at the bottom not very dissimilar, and the young dog ought not to be subjected to the temptation of picking up one of them in lieu of that he was sent for. Should he on any occasion do so, neither scold nor caress him; quietly take what he brings, lay it at your feet, to show him that you want it not, and endeavor to make him renew his search for what you threw in; do this by signs, and by encouragement with your voice, rather than by chucking stones in the right direction, lest he should seek for them instead of searching for what you originally sent him.
[91]. Some teachers make a young dog fetch a round pin cushion, or a cork ball, in which needles are judiciously buried; nor is it a bad plan, and there need be no cruelty in it, if well managed. At least it can only be cruel once, for the dog's recollection of his sufferings will prevent his picking up the offending object a second time. Others, after he is well drilled into "fetching," and takes pleasure in it, will make him bring a bunch of keys. There are few things a dog is less willing to lift. Most probably they gave him some severe rebuffs when first heedlessly snatching at them; and the caution thereby induced tends to give him a careful, tender mouth. A fencing master, I knew in France, had a spaniel, singularly enough for a Frenchman, called "Waterloo," that would take up the smallest needle.
[92]. When your dog has picked up what you desired, endeavor to make him run to you quickly. Many who teach a dog to fetch, praise and encourage him while he is bringing what he was sent after. Clearly this is an error. It induces the dog to loiter and play with it. He thinks he is lauded for having it in his mouth and carrying it about. Reserve your encomiums and caresses until he has delivered it. If you walk away, the fear of your leaving him will induce him to hurry after you. Let a dog retrieve ever so carelessly, still, while on the move, he will rarely drop a bird.
[93]. Dogs that retrieve should be gradually brought to lift heavy, flexible things, and such as require a large grasp, that they may not be quite unprepared for the weight and size of a hare; otherwise they may be inclined to drag it along by a slight hold of the skin, instead of balancing it across their mouths. Thus capacious jaws are obviously an advantage in retrievers. The French gamekeepers, many of whom are capital hands at making a retriever—excepting that they do not teach the "down charge,"—stuff a hare or rabbit skin with straw, and when the dog has learned to fetch it with eagerness, they progressively increase its weight by burying larger and larger pieces of wood in the middle of the straw: and to add to the difficulty of carrying it, they often throw it to the other side of a hedge or thick copse. If the dog shows any tendency to a hard mouth they mix thorns with the straw.
[94]. I ought to have mentioned sooner that you should commence teaching a puppy to "fetch" by shaking your glove—or anything soft—at him, and encouraging him to seize and drag it from you. Then throw it a yard or two off, gradually increasing the distance, and the moment he delivers it to you, give him something palatable. Should you, contrary to every reasonable expectation, from his having no inclination to romp or play with the glove, not be able to persuade him to pick it up, put it between his teeth—force him to grasp it by tightly pressing his jaws together, speaking all the while impressively to him—scold him if he is obstinate and refuses to take hold of the glove. After a little time retire a few paces, keeping one hand under his mouth—to prevent his dropping the glove,—while you lead or drag him with the other. When you halt, be sure not to take the glove immediately from him—oblige him to continue holding it for at least a minute—lest he should learn to relinquish his grip too soon,—before you make him yield at the command "give;" then bestow a reward. Should he drop it before he is ordered to deliver it, replace it in his mouth and again retreat some steps before ordering him to "give." He will soon follow with it at your heels. If you have sufficient perseverance you can thus make him earn all his daily food. Hunger will soon perfect him in the lesson. Observe that there are four distinct stages in this trick of carrying—the first, making the dog grasp and retain—the second, inducing him to bring, following at your heels—the third, teaching him not to quit his hold when you stop—the fourth, getting him to deliver into your hands on your order. The great advantage of a sporting dog's acquiring this trick is that it accustoms him to deliver into your hands; and it often happens that you must thus teach a dog to "carry" as a preparative to teaching him to "fetch." It certainly will be judicious in you to do so, if the dog is a lively, riotous animal; for the act of carrying the glove—or stick, &c.—quietly at your heels will sober him, and make him less likely to run off with it instead of delivering it when you are teaching him to fetch. As soon as he brings the glove tolerably well, try him with a short stick. You will wish him not to seize the end of it, lest he should learn to "drag" instead of "carry." Therefore fix pegs or wires into holes drilled at right angles to each other at the extremities of the stick. He will then only grasp it near the middle.
[95]. This drill should be further extended if a
REGULAR LAND RETRIEVER
be your pupil. Throw dead birds of any kind for him to bring—of course one at a time,—being on the alert to check him whenever he grips them too severely. If he persists in disfiguring them, pass a few blunted knitting needles through them at right angles to one another. When he fetches with a tender mouth, you will be able to follow up this method of training still further by letting him "road"—or "foot," as it is often termed—a rabbit in high stubble, one—or both, if a strong buck—of whose hind legs you will have previously bandaged in the manner described in [56]. Be careful not to let him see you turn it out, lest he watch your proceedings and endeavor to "hunt by eye." Indeed it might be better to employ another person to turn it out. Keep clear of woods for some time—the cross scents would puzzle him. If by any chance you have a winged pheasant or partridge, let him retrieve it. You will not, I presume, at the commencement select a morning when there is a dry cold wind from the north-east, but probably you will wish to conclude his initiatory lessons on days which you judge to possess least scent. The more he has been practised as described in [39], the better will he work; for he cannot keep his nose too perseveringly close to the ground. With reference to the instructions in that paragraph, I will here remark, that before you let the dog stoop to hunt, you should have placed him by signal ([31]) near the spot from which you had begun dragging the bread. In paragraph [190] an instance is given of the manner in which a dog who retrieves should be put upon a scent; and why that mode is adopted is explained in [184].
[96]. It is quite astonishing how well an old dog that retrieves knows when a bird is struck. He instantly detects any hesitation or uncertainty of movement, and for a length of time will watch its flight with the utmost eagerness, and, steadily keeping his eye on it, will as surely as yourself mark its fall. To induce a young dog to become thus observant, always let him perceive that you watch a wounded bird with great eagerness; his imitative instinct will soon lead him to do the same. This faculty of observation is particularly serviceable in a water retriever. It enables him to swim direct to the crippled bird, and, besides the saving of time, the less he is in the water in severe weather, the less likely is he to suffer from rheumatism.
[97]. As an initiatory lesson in making him observant of the flight and fall of birds, place a few pigeons, or other birds, during his absence, each in a hole covered with a tile. Afterwards come upon these spots apparently unexpectedly, and, kicking away the tiles—or, what is better, dragging them off by a previously adjusted string,—shoot the birds for him to bring; it being clearly understood that he has been previously tutored into having no dread of the gun. As he will have been taught to search where bidden—IV. to VIII. of [119],—nothing now remains but to take him out on a regular campaign, when the fascinating scent of game will infallibly make him search—I do not say deliver—with great eagerness. When once he then touches upon a scent, leave him entirely to himself—not a word, not a sign. Possibly his nose may not be able to follow the bird, but it is certain that yours cannot. Occasionally you may be able to help an old retriever ([296]), but rarely, if ever, a young one. Your interference, nay, probably your mere presence, would so excite him as to make him overrun the scent. Remain, therefore, quietly where you are until he rejoins you.
[98]. When we see a winged pheasant racing off, most of us are too apt to assist a young dog, forgetting that we thereby teach him, instead of devoting his whole attention to work out the scent, to turn to us for aid on occasions when it may be impossible to give it. When a dog is hunting for birds, he should frequently look to the gun for signals, but when he is on them he should trust to nothing but his own scenting faculties.
[99]. If, from a judicious education, a retriever pup has had a delight in "fetching" rapidly, it is not likely he will loiter on the way to mouth his birds; but the fatigue of carrying a hare a considerable distance may, perhaps, induce a young dog to drop it in order to take a moment's rest. There is a risk that when doing so he may be tempted to lick the blood, and, finding it palatable, be led to maul the carcase. You see, therefore, the judiciousness of employing every means in your power to ensure his feeling anxious to deliver quickly, and I know not what plan will answer better—though it sounds sadly unsentimental—than to have some pieces of hard boiled liver[18] at hand to bestow upon him the moment he surrenders his game, until he is thoroughly confirmed in an expeditious delivery. Never give him a piece, however diligently he may have searched, unless he succeeds in bringing. When you leave off these rewards do so gradually. The invariable bestowal of such dainties during, at least, the retriever's first season, will prevent his ever dropping a bird on hearing the report of a gun—as many do—in order to search for the later killed game.
[100]. Should a young retriever evince any wish to assist the cook by plucking out the feathers of a bird; or from natural vice or mismanagement before he came into your possession,[19] show any predisposition to taste blood, take about two feet (dependent upon the size of the dog's head) of iron wire, say the one-eighth of an inch in diameter, sufficiently flexible for you, but not for him to bend. Shape this much into the form of the letter U, supposing the extremities to be joined by a straight line. Place the straight part in the dog's mouth, and passing the other over his head and ears, retain it in position by a light throat lash passed through a turn in the wire, as here roughly represented. The flexibility of the wire will enable you to adjust it with ease to the shape of his head. When in the kennel he ought to be occasionally thus bitted, that he may not fret when he is first hunted with it. It will not injure his teeth or much annoy him if it lie on his grinders a little behind the tushes.
[101]. Sometimes a retriever, notwithstanding every encouragement, will not pursue a winged bird with sufficient rapidity. In this case associate him for a few days with a quicker dog, whose example will to a certainty animate him and increase his pace. It is true that when he is striving to hit off a scent he cannot work too patiently and perseveringly; but, on the other hand, the moment he is satisfied he is on it, he cannot follow too rapidly. A winged bird, when closely pressed, seems, through nervousness, to emit an increasing stream of scent; therefore, though it may sound paradoxical, the retriever's accelerated pace then makes him (his nose being close to the ground) the less likely to overrun it; and the faster he pursues the less ground must he disturb, for the shorter will be the chase.
[102]. Retrievers are generally taught to rush in the instant a bird falls. This plan, like most other things, has its advocates and its opponents. I confess to being one of the latter, for I cannot believe that in the long run it is the best way to fill the bag. I think it certain that more game is lost by birds being flushed while the guns are unloaded, than could be lost from the scent cooling during the short period the dog remains at the "down charge." Unquestionably some retrievers have so good a nose, that the delay would not lead to their missing any wounded game however slightly struck; and the delay has this great advantage, that it helps to keep the retriever under proper subjection, and diminishes his anxiety to rush to every part of the line where a gun may be fired, instead of remaining quietly at his master's heels until signalled to take up the scent. Moreover, a retriever by neglecting the "down charge," sets an example to the pointers or setters who may be his companions, which it is always more or less difficult to prevent the dogs, if young, from following. But I once shot over a retriever which I could hardly wish not to have "run on shot." On a bird being hit he started off with the greatest impetuosity, kept his eye immovably fixed on its flight, and possessed such speed that a winged bird scarcely touched the ground ere it was pinned. He would, too, often seize a slightly injured hare before it had acquired its best pace. The pursuit so soon terminated that possibly less game escaped being fired at than if the retriever had not stirred until the guns were reloaded. On a miss he was never allowed—indeed appeared little inclined—to quit "heel." Of course a trainer's trouble is decreased by not breaking to the "down charge," which may induce some to recommend the plan; though it is to be observed, that this class of dogs is more easily than any other perfected in it, because the breaker nearly always possesses the power of treading upon or seizing the checkcord the instant a bird is sprung.
[103]. The nature of your shooting will much influence you in deciding which of the two methods to adopt; but should you select the one which the generality of good sportsmen consider to be most according to rule, and to possess the greatest beauty, viz., the "down charge," rather lose any bird, however valuable, so long as your retriever remains young, than put him on the "foot" a second before you have reloaded. Undoubtedly it ought to be taught to every dog broken for sale, as the purchaser can always dispense with it should he judge it unnecessary—it can soon be untaught. It is clear that not "quitting heel" until ordered is tantamount to the regular "down charge," but I think the last is the easiest to enforce constantly. It is the more decided step.
[104]. Large retrievers are less apt to mouth their game than small ones: but very heavy dogs are not desirable, for they soon tire. And yet a certain medium is necessary, for they ought to have sufficient strength to carry a hare with ease through a thicket, when balanced in their jaws, and be able to jump a fence with her. They should run mute. And they should be thick coated: unless they are so,—I do not say long coated,—they cannot be expected to dash into close cover, or plunge into water after a duck or snipe when the thermometer is near zero.
[105]. It is usually allowed that, as a general rule, the best land retrievers are bred from a cross between the setter and the Newfoundland—or the strong spaniel and Newfoundland. I do not mean the heavy Labrador, whose weight and bulk is valued because it adds to his power of draught, nor the Newfoundland, increased in size at Halifax and St. John's to suit the taste of the English purchaser,—but the far slighter dog reared by the settlers on the coast,—a dog that is quite as fond of water as of land, and which in almost the severest part of a North American winter will remain on the edge of a rock for hours together, watching intently for anything the passing waves may carry near him. Such a dog is highly prized. Without his aid the farmer would secure but few of the many wild ducks he shoots at certain seasons of the year. The patience with which he waits for a shot on the top of a high cliff—until the numerous flock sail leisurely underneath—would be fruitless, did not his noble dog fearlessly plunge in from the greatest height, and successfully bring the slain to shore.
[106]. Probably a cross from the heavy, large headed setter, who, though so wanting in pace, has an exquisite nose; and the true Newfoundland, makes the best retriever. Nose is the first desideratum. A breaker may doubt which of his pointers or setters possesses the greatest olfactory powers, but a short trial tells him which of his retrievers has the finest nose.
[107]. Making a first-rate retriever is a work of time, but his being thoroughly grounded in the required initiatory lessons facilitates matters surprisingly. Indeed after having been taught the "drop"—[22], [24], [25],—to "fetch"—[92] to [94]—and "seek dead" in the precise direction he is ordered—XI of [119],—almost any kind of dog can be made to retrieve. The better his nose is, the better of course he will retrieve. Sagacity, good temper, quickness of comprehension, a teachable disposition, and all cultivated qualities are almost as visibly transmitted to offspring as shape and action; therefore the stronger a dog's hereditary instincts lead him to retrieve, the less will be the instructor's trouble; and the more obedient he is made to the signals of the hand, the more readily will he be put upon a scent. Dogs that are by nature quick rangers do not take instinctively to retrieving. They have not naturally sufficient patience to work out a feeble scent. They are apt to overrun it. A really good retriever will pursue a wounded bird or hare as accurately as a bloodhound will a deer or man; and if he is put on a false scent, I mean a scent of uninjured flick or feather, he will not follow it beyond a few steps—experience will have shown him the inutility of so doing. ([297].)
[108]. Avail yourself of the first opportunity to make a young retriever lift a woodcock, lest in after life, from novel scent, he decline touching it, as many dogs have done to the great annoyance of their masters. Ditto, with the delicate landrail.
[109]. The directions given about "fetching" led me to talk of retrievers; and, having touched upon the subject, I thought it right not to quit it, until I had offered the best advice in my power. I have but one more recommendation to add before I return to your setter—or pointer—pup: carefully guard a young retriever—indeed any dog bred for the gun—from being ever allowed to join a rat-hunt. Rat-hunting would tend to destroy his tenderness of mouth, nay, possibly make him mangle his game. But this is not all. It has often gradually led good dogs to decline lifting hares or rabbits, apparently regarding them more in the light of vermin than of game. Some dogs, however, that are not bad retrievers, are capital ratters, but they are exceptions to the general rule. Indeed, you should never permit your dog to retrieve any kind of ground or winged vermin. If the creature were only wounded it might turn upon him. He in self-defence would give it a grip, and he might thus be led to follow the practice on less pardonable occasions. Remember, that a winged bittern or heron might peck out his eye.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] A drier and cleaner article than you may suppose, and which can be carried not inconveniently in a Mackintosh, or oil-skin bag—a toilet sponge bag.
[19] If a retriever has the opportunity, while prowling about, of gnawing hare or rabbit-skins thrown aside by a slovenly cook, it will not be unnatural in him, when he is hungry, to wish to appropriate to himself the hide, if not the interior, of the animals he is lifting.
CHAPTER V.
INITIATORY LESSONS OUT OF DOORS.—TRICKS.
[110]. As I before observed, you can practise most of the initiatory lessons in your country walks. Always put something alluring in your pocket to reward your pupil for prompt obedience. Do not take him out unnecessarily in bad weather. On no account let him amuse himself by scraping acquaintance with every idle cur he meets on the way; nor permit him to gambol about the lanes. Let him understand by your manner that there is business at hand. Never let him enter a field before you. Always keep him at your heels, until you give him the order to be off. You will find him disposed to presume and encroach. According to the old adage, "Give him an inch, and he will take an ell." He will be endeavoring to lead rather than to follow, and, if he fancies himself unobserved, he will most perseveringly steal inch upon inch in advance. Be ever on the watch, ready to check the beginning of every act of disobedience. Implicit obedience in trifles will insure it in things of more importance.
[111]. For some time, but the period is uncertain—say from his being eight months old until double that age[20]—he will merely gallop and frisk about, and probably will take diligently to persecuting butterflies. Let him choose what he likes. Don't think he will prize small beer, when he can get champagne. He will leave off noticing inferior articles as he becomes conversant with the taste of game. It is now your main object to get him to hunt; no matter what, so that he is not perpetually running to "heel." And the more timid he is the more you must let him chase, and amuse himself as his fancy dictates. When you see that he is really occupying himself with more serious hunting, eagerly searching for small birds, especially larks, you must begin instructing him how to quarter his ground to the greatest advantage, under your constant direction. Should any one join you, or anything occur likely to prevent your giving him your strictest attention, on no account permit him to range—keep him to "heel" until you are quite prepared to watch and control all his movements. Hunt him where he is least likely to find game, for he will take to quartering his ground far more regularly, under your guidance, where his attention is least distracted by any scent. The taint of partridge would be almost sure to make him deviate from the true line on which you are anxious he should work. Labor now diligently, if possible daily, though not for many hours a day; for be assured a good method of ranging can only be implanted when he is young.
[112]. Should your pup be so long before taking to hunting that your patience becomes exhausted, let an older dog accompany you a few times. When he finds birds, gradually bring the young one upon them from leeward, and let him spring them. Encourage him to sniff the ground they have quitted, and allow him to run riot on the haunt. After that enjoyment, the example of the old dog will most likely soon make him range, and employ his nose in seeking a repetition of what has afforded him such unexpected delight. If it does not, and the old dog is steady and good-humored enough to bear the annoyance cheerfully, couple the young one to him. Before this he should have learned to work kindly in couples—[44]. But I am getting on too fast, and swerving from the track I had marked for myself. By-and-by I will tell you how I think you should instruct your youngster to quarter his ground to the best advantage—[127], &c.
[113]. Common sense shows that you ought not to correct your dog for disobedience, unless you are certain that he knows his fault. Now you will see that the initiatory lessons I recommend must give him that knowledge, for they explain to him the meaning of almost all the signs and words of command you will have to employ when shooting. That knowledge, too, is imparted by a system of rewards, not punishments. Your object is not to break his spirit, but his self-will. With his obedience you gain his affection. The greatest hardship admissible, in this early stage of his education, is a strong jerk of the checkcord, and a sound rating, given, when necessary, in the loudest tone and sternest manner; and it is singular how soon he will discriminate between the reproving term "bad"—to which he will sensitively attach a feeling of shame—and the encouraging word "good"—expressions that will hereafter have a powerful influence over him, especially if he be of a gentle, timid disposition.
[114]. In educating such a dog—and there are many of the kind, likely to turn out well, if they are judiciously managed, often possessing noses so exquisite—perhaps I ought to say cautious—as nearly to make up for their general want of constitution and powers of endurance—it is satisfactory to think that all these lessons can be inculcated without in the slightest degree depressing his spirit. On the contrary, increasing observation and intelligence will gradually banish his shyness and distrust of his own powers; for he will be sensible that he is becoming more and more capable of comprehending your wishes, and therefore less likely to err and be punished ([245]).
[115]. I fear you may imagine that I am attributing too much reasoning power to him. You would not think so if you had broken in two or three dogs. What makes dog-teaching, if not very attractive, at least not laborious, is the fact that the more you impart to a dog, the more readily will he gain further knowledge. After teaching a poodle or a terrier a few tricks, you will be surprised to see with what increasing facility he will acquire each successive accomplishment. It is this circumstance which, I think, should induce you not to regard as chimerical the perfection of which I purpose to speak by-and-by, under the head of "refinements in breaking." Indeed I only adopt this distinction in deference to what I cannot but consider popular prejudice; for I well know many will regard such accomplishments as altogether superfluous. It is sad to think that an art which might easily be made much more perfect, is allowed, almost by universal suffrance, to stop short just at the point where excellence is within grasp.
[116]. Far more dogs would be well-broken, if men would but keep half the number they usually possess. The owner of many dogs cannot shoot often enough over them, to give them great experience.
[117]. I am, however, wandering from our immediate subject. Let us return to the lecture, and consider how much knowledge your pupil will have acquired by these preliminary instructions. We shall find that, with the exception of a systematically confirmed range, really little remains to be learned, save what his almost unaided instinct will tell him.
[118]. For it is wonderful how much you can effect by initiatory instruction: indeed, afterwards, you will have little else to do than teach and confirm your dog in a judicious range—his own sagacity and increasing experience will be his principal guides—for consider how much you will have taught him.
[119]. He will know—
I. That he is to pay attention to his whistle—the whistle that you design always to use to him. I mean that, when he hears one low blast on his whistle he is to look to you for orders, but not necessarily run towards you, unless he is out of sight, or you continue whistling ([18]).
II. That "Toho," or the right arm raised nearly perpendicularly, means that he is to stand still ([19] to [21]).
III. That "Drop," or the left arm raised nearly perpendicularly, or the report of a gun, means that he is to crouch down with his head close to the ground, between his feet, however far off he may be ranging. Greater relaxation in the position may be permitted after he has been a little time shot over ([22 to 26]).
IV. That "On,"—the shortest word for "hie-on,"—or the forward underhand swing of the right hand, signifies that he is to advance in a forward direction—the direction in which you are waving. This signal is very useful. It implies that you want the dog to hunt ahead of you. Yon employ it also when you are alongside of him at his point, and are desirous of urging him to follow up the running bird or birds, and press to a rise. If he push on too eagerly, you restrain him by slightly raising the right hand—XII. of this paragraph ([18 to 21]).
V. That a wave of the right arm and hand—the arm being fully extended and well to the right—from left to right, means that he is to hunt to the right. Some men wave the left hand across the body from left to right, as a direction to the dog to hunt to the right; but that signal is not so apparent at a distance as the one I have described ([32]).
VI. That a wave of the left arm from right to left—the arm being fully extended and well to the left—means that he is to hunt to the left ([33]).
VII. That the "Beckon," the wave of the right hand towards you, indicates that he is to hunt towards you ([33]. See also [67]).
VIII. That the word "Heel," or a wave of the right hand to the rear—the reverse of the underhand, cricket-bowler's swing,—implies that he is to give up hunting, and go directly close to your heels ([40]).
IX. That "Fence" means that he is not to leave the place where you are. After being so checked a few times when he is endeavoring to quit the field, he will understand the word to be an order not to "break fence" ([42], [43]).
X. That "Find" or "Seek" means that he is to search for something which he will have great gratification in discovering. When he is in the field he will quickly understand this to be game ([30], [31]).
XI. That "Dead"—which it would be well to accompany with the signal to "Heel," means that there is something not far off, which he would have great satisfaction in finding. On hearing it, he will come to you, and await your signals instructing him in what direction he is to hunt for it. When, by signals, you have put him as near as you can upon the spot where you think the bird has fallen, you will say "Find;" for, until you say that word, he ought to be more occupied in attending to your signals than in searching for the bird. When you have shot a good many birds to him, if he is within sight, in order to work more silently, omit saying "Dead," only signal to him to go to "Heel" ([18], [30], [31], [40]).
XII. That "Care" means that he is near that for which he is hunting. This word, used with the right hand slightly raised—the signal for the "Toho," only not exhibited nearly so energetically—will soon make him comprehend that game is near him, and that he is therefore to hunt cautiously. You will use it when your young dog is racing too fast among turnips or potatoes ([35]).
XIII. That "Up" means that he is to sniff with his nose high in the air for that of which he is in search ([37]).
XIV. That "Away"—or "Gone," or "Flown"—is an indication that the thing for which he was hunting and of which he smells the taint, is no longer there. This word is not to be used in the field until your young dog has gained some experience ([41]).
XV. That "Ware"—pronounced "War"—is a general order to desist from whatever he may be doing. "No" is perhaps a better word; it can be pronounced more distinctly and energetically. If the command is occasionally accompanied with the cracking of your whip, its meaning will soon be understood ([43]).
XVI. He will also know the distinction between the chiding term "Bad" and the encouraging word "Good"; and, moreover, be sensible, from your look and manner, whether you are pleased or angry with him. Dogs, like children, are physiognomists ([36], end of [104]).
[120]. You will perceive that you are advised to use the right hand more than the left. This is only because the left hand is so generally employed in carrying the gun.
[121]. You will also observe, that when the voice is employed—and this should be done only when the dog will not obey your signals—I have recommended you to make use of but one word. Why should you say "Come to heel," "Ware breaking fence," "Have a care?" If you speak in sentences, you may at times unconsciously vary the words of the sentence, or the emphasis on any word; and as it is only by the sound that you should expect a dog to be guided, the more defined and distinct in sound the several commands are the better.
[122]. This consideration leads to the remark that, as, by nearly universal consent, "Toho" is the word employed to tell a dog to point, the old rule is clearly a judicious one, never to call him "Ponto," "Sancho," or by any name ending in "o." Always, too, choose one that can be hallooed in a sharp, loud, high key. You will find the advantage of this whenever you lose your dog, and happen not to have a whistle. Observe, also, if you have several dogs, to let their names be dissimilar in sound.
[123]. I have suggested your employing the word "Drop" instead of the usual word "Down," because it is less likely to be uttered by any one on whom the dog might jump or fawn; for, on principle, I strongly object to any order being given which is not strictly enforced. It begets in a dog, as much as in the nobler animal who walks on two legs, habits of inattention to words of command, and ultimately makes greater severity necessary. If I felt certain I should never wish to part with a dog I was instructing, I should carry this principle so far as to frame a novel vocabulary, and never use any word I thought he would be likely to hear from others. By the bye, whenever you purchase a dog, it would be advisable to ascertain what words of command and what signals he has been accustomed to.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] I once had a pointer pup whose dam was broken in (after a fashion) and regularly shot to when seven months old. Without injury to her constitution, she could not have been hunted for more than an hour or two at a time. She ought not to have been taken to the field for regular use until fully a year old.
CHAPTER VI.
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, cœteris 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.
CHAPTER VII.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. CAUTION.
[140]. If it is your fixed determination to confirm your dog in the truly-killing range described in last Chapter, do not associate him for months in the field with another dog, however highly broken. It would be far better to devote but two hours per diem to your pupil exclusively, than to hunt him the whole day with a companion.
[141]. Many breakers do exactly the reverse of this. They take out an old steady ranger, with the intention that he shall lead the young dog, and that the latter, from imitation and habit, shall learn how to quarter his ground. But what he gains by imitation will so little improve his intellects, that, when thrown upon his own resources, he will prove a miserable finder. On a hot, dry day he will not be able to make out a feather, nor on any day to "foot" a delicate scent. I grant that the plan expedites matters, and attains the end which most professional trainers seek; but it will not give a dog self confidence and independence, it will not impart to him an inquiring nose, and make him rely on its sensitiveness to discover game, rather than to his quickness of eye to detect when his friend touches upon a haunt; nor will it instruct him to look from time to time towards the gun for directions. It may teach him a range, but not to hunt where he is ordered; nor will it habituate him to vary the breadth of the parallels on which he works, according as his master may judge it to be a good or bad scenting day.
[142]. To establish the rare, noble beat I am recommending,—one not hereafter to be deranged by the temptation, of a furrow in turnips or potatoes,—you must have the philosophy not to hunt your dog in them until he is accustomed in his range to be guided entirely by the wind and your signals, and is in no way influenced by the nature of the ground. Even then it would be better not to beat narrow strips across which it would be impossible for him to make his regular casts. Avoid, too, for some time, if you can, all small fields—which will only contract his range,—and all fields with trenches or furrows, for he will but too naturally follow them instead of paying attention to his true beat. Have you never, in low lands, seen a young dog running down a potato or turnip trench, out of which his master, after much labor, had no sooner extracted him than he dropped into the adjacent one? It is the absence of artificial tracks which makes the range of nearly all dogs well broken on the moors, so much truer than that of dogs hunted on cultivated lands.
[143]. Moreover, in turnips, potatoes, clover, and the like thick shelter, birds will generally permit a dog to approach so closely, that if he is much accustomed to hunt such places, he will be sure to acquire the evil habit of pressing too near his game when finding on the stubbles—instead of being startled as it were into an instantaneous stop the moment he first winds game,—and thus raise many a bird out of gun-shot that a cautious dog—one who slackens his pace the instant he judges that he is beating a likely spot—would not have alarmed.
[144]. "A cautious dog!" Can there well be a more flattering epithet?[24] Such a dog can hardly travel too fast[25] in a tolerably open country, where there is not a superabundance of game, if he really hunt with an inquiring nose;—but to his master what an all-important "if" is this! It marks the difference between the sagacious, wary, patient, yet diligent animal, whose every sense and every faculty is absorbed in his endeavor to make out birds, not for himself but the gun, and the wild harum-scarum who blunders up three-fourths of the birds he finds. No! not finds, but frightens,—for he is not aware of their presence until they are on the wing, and seldom points unless he gets some heedless bird right under his nose, when an ignoramus, in admiration of the beauty of the dog's sudden attitude, will often forget the mischief which he has done.
[145]. Though you cannot improve a dog's nose, you can do what is nearly tantamount to it—you can increase his caution. By watching for the slightest token of his feathering, and then calling out "Toho," or making the signal, you will gradually teach him to look out for the faintest indication of a scent, and point the instant he winds it, instead of heedlessly hunting on until he meets a more exciting effluvia. See [174 to 176], and [228].
[146]. If from a want of animation in his manner you are not able to judge of the moment when he first winds game, and you thus are not able to call out "Toho" until he gets close to birds, quietly pull him back from his point "dead to leeward" for some paces, and there make him resume his point. Perseverance in this plan will ultimately effect your wishes, unless his nose is radically wrong. A dog's pointing too near his game more frequently arises from want of caution—in other words, from want of good instruction—than from a defective nose.
[147]. Slow dogs readily acquire this caution; but fast dogs cannot be taught it without great labor. You have to show them the necessity of diminishing their pace, that their noses may have fair play. If you have such a pupil to instruct, when you get near birds you have marked down, signal to him to come to "heel" Whisper to him "Care," and let him see by your light, slow tread, your anxiety not to alarm the birds. If he has never shown any symptoms of blinking, you may, a few times, thus spring the birds yourself while you keep him close to you. On the next occasion of marking down birds, or coming to a very likely spot, bring him into "heel," and after an impressive injunction to take "care," give him two or three very limited casts to the right or left, and let him find the birds while you instruct him as described in [228]. As there will be no fear of such a dog making false points, take him often to the fields where he has most frequently met birds. The expectation of again coming on them, and the recollection of the lectures he there received, will be likely to make him cautious on entering it. I remember a particular spot in a certain field that early in the season constantly held birds. A young dog I then possessed never approached it afterwards without drawing upon it most carefully, though he had not found there for months. At first I had some difficulty in preventing the "draw" from becoming a "point."
[148]. I have elsewhere observed that fast dogs, which give most trouble in breaking, usually turn out best: now if you think for a moment you will see the reason plainly. A young dog does not ultimately become first-rate because he is wild and headstrong, and regardless of orders, but because his speed and disobedience arise from his great energies,—from his fondness for the sport, from his longing to inhale the exhilarating scent and pursue the flying game. It is the possession of these qualities that makes him, in his anxious state of excitement, blind to your signals and deaf to your calls. These obviously are qualities that, under good management,[26] lead to great excellence and superiority,—that make one dog do the work of two. But they are not qualities sought for by an idle or incompetent breaker.
[149]. These valuable qualities in the fast dog, must, however, be accompanied with a searching nose. It is not enough that a dog be always apparently hunting, that is to say, always on the gallop—his nose should always be hunting. When this is the case, and you may be pretty certain it is if, as he crosses the breeze, his nose has intuitively a bearing to windward, you need not fear that he will travel too fast, or not repay you ultimately for the great extra trouble caused by his high spirits and ardor for the sport.
[150]. You have been recommended invariably to enter every field by the leeward side. This you can generally accomplish with ease, if you commence your day's beat to leeward. Should circumstances oblige you to enter a field on the windward side, make it a rule, as long as your dog continues a youngster, to call him to "heel," and walk down the field with him until you get to the opposite side—the leeward—then hunt him regularly up to windward.
[151]. I have read wondrous accounts of dogs, who, without giving themselves the trouble of quartering their ground, would walk straight up to the birds if there were any in the field. It has never been my luck, I do not say to have possessed such marvellous animals, but even to have been favored with a sight of them. I therefore am inclined to think, let your means be what they may, that you would find it better not to advertise for creatures undoubtedly most rare, but to act upon the common belief that, as the scent of birds, more or less, impregnates the air, no dog, let his nose be ever so fine, can, except accidentally, wind game unless he seeks for the taint in the air—and that the dog who regularly crosses the wind must have a better chance of finding it than he who only works up wind—and that down wind he can have little other chance than by "roading."
[152]. It is heedlessness—the exact opposite of this extreme caution—that makes young dogs so often disregard and overrun a slight scent; and since they are more inclined to commit this error from the rivalry of companionship, an additional argument is presented in favor of breaking them separately, and giving them their own time, leisurely and methodically, to work out a scent, provided the nose be carried high. I am satisfied most of us hurry young dogs too much.
FOOTNOTES:
[24] Provided always he be not perpetually pointing, as occasionally will happen—and is the more likely to happen if he has been injudiciously taught as a puppy to set chickens, and has thereby acquired the evil habit of "standing by eye;" which, however, may have made him a first-rate hand at pointing crows.
[25] With the understanding that the pace does not make him "shut up" before the day is over.
[26] The more resolute a dog is, the more pains should be taken, before he is shown game, to perfect him in the instant "drop"—[25]—however far off he may be ranging.
CHAPTER VIII.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. CUNNING OF AGE. RANGE OF FROM TWO TO SIX DOGS.
[153]. Of course you will not let your pupil "break fence," or get out of your sight. Be on the watch to whistle or call out "Fence," the instant you perceive that he is thinking of quitting the field. Do not wait until he is out of sight; check him by anticipating his intentions. Should he, unperceived, or in defiance of your orders, get into a field before you, call him back—by the same opening, if practicable, through which he passed, the more clearly to show him his folly;—and do not proceed further until he has obeyed you. A steady adherence to this rule will soon convince him of the inutility of not exercising more patience, or at least forbearance; then signal to him "away" in the direction you choose, not in the direction he chooses. It is essential that you should be the first over every fence. In the scramble, birds, at which you ought to have a shot, are frequently sprung. If he is not obedient to your orders make him "drop," and rate him as described in [139].
[154]. A dog from his own observation so much feels,—and in a greater or less degree, according to his education,—the necessity of watching in what direction you are walking, that if he is habituated to work under your eye,—I mean, is never allowed to hunt behind you,—by turning your back upon him when he is paying no attention to your signals, you will often be able to bring him away from a spot where he is ranging—perhaps down wind—against your wishes, at a time when you are afraid to whistle, lest you should alarm the birds. Waving your hand backwards and forwards near the ground, and stooping low while walking slowly about, as if in search of something, will often attract the attention of an ill-taught, self-willed dog; and his anxiety to participate in the find, and share the sport which he imagines you expect, will frequently induce him to run up, and hunt alongside of you for any close lying bird.
[155]. Never be induced to hunt your young dog,—nor indeed any dog,—when he is tired. If you do, you will give him a slovenly carriage and habits, and lessen his zeal for the sport. In order to come in for a sniff, at a time when he is too fatigued to search for it himself, he will crawl after his companion, watching for any indication of his finding. As they become wearied you will have a difficulty in keeping even old well-broken dogs separate—much more young ones, however independently they may have ranged when fresh. You may also, to a certainty, expect false points; but what is of far more consequence, by frequently overtasking your dog, you will as effectually waste his constitution as you would your horse's by premature work.
[156]. If he is very young when first entered, two or three hours' work at a time will be sufficient. When he is tired, or rather before he is tired, send him home with the man who brings you a relief. Do not fancy your dog will be getting a rest if he is allowed to follow at your heels for the remainder of the day, coupled to a companion. His fretting at not being allowed to share in the sport he sees, will take nearly as much out of him as if you permitted him to hunt. If you can persuade John always to rub him down, and brush and dry him—nay even to let him enjoy an hour's basking in front of the fire—before he shuts him up in the kennel, you will add years to his existence; and remember that one old experienced dog, whose constitution is uninjured, is worth two young ones.
[157]. When you hunt a brace of dogs, to speak theoretically, they should traverse a field in opposite directions, but along parallel lines, and the distance between the lines should be regulated by you according as it is a good or a bad scenting day, and according to the excellence of the dogs' noses. Mathematical accuracy is, of course, never to be attained, but the closer you approach the better.
[158]. You should attempt it—on entering the field to leeward, as before directed—by making one dog go straight ahead of you to the distance which you wish the parallel lines to be apart from each other, before you cast him off—say—to the right; then cast off his companion to the left. If the dogs are nearly equal in pace, the one ahead, so long as he does not fancy he winds game, should continue to work on a parallel more advanced than the other.
[159]. Should you not like to relinquish, for the sake of this formal precision, the chance of a find in the neglected right-hand corner of the field, cast off one dog to the right and the other to the left, on entering it, and make the one that soonest approaches his hedge take the widest sweep—turn—and so be placed in the advanced, parallel.
[160]. With regard to hunting more than a brace—when your difficulties wonderfully multiply—your own judgment must determine in what manner to direct their travelling powers to the greatest advantage. Much will depend upon the different speed of the dogs; the number you choose from whim, or otherwise, to hunt; the kind of country you beat; and the quantity and sort of game you expect to find. It is, however, certain you must wish that each dog be observant of the direction in which your face is turned, in order that he may guide his own movements by yours;—that he from time to time look towards you to see if you have any commands; and that he be ever anxious to obey them.
[161]. Herbert writes as follows, in his work on shooting in the United States:[27] his words ought to have influence, for manifestly he is a good sportsman; but I own I cannot quite agree with him as to the facility with which a range can be taught: "It is wonderful how easily dogs which are always shot over by the same man—he being one who knows his business—will learn to cross and re-quarter their ground, turning to the slightest whistle, and following the least gesture of the hand. I have seen old dogs turn their heads to catch their master's eye, if they thought the whistle too long deferred; and I lately lost an old Irish setter, which had been stone deaf for his last two seasons, but which I found no more difficulty in turning than any other dog, so accurately did he know when to look for the signal."
[162]. To beat your ground systematically with three dogs, you should strive to make them cross and recross you each on a different parallel, as just described for two dogs; but each dog must make a proportionally bolder sweep—turn—or,
[163]. If you have plenty of space, you can make one dog take a distinct beat to the right, another a separate beat to the left, and direct the third—which ought to be the dog least confirmed in his range—to traverse the central part,—and so be the only one that shall cross and recross you. If one of your dogs is a slow potterer, and you prefer this method to the one named in [162], give him the middle beat, and let his faster companions take the flanks. In our small English fields you have not space enough, but on our moors, and in many parts of the Continent, it cannot be want of room that will prevent your accomplishing it. To do this well, however, and not interfere with each other's ground, how magnificently must your dogs be broken! In directing their movements, the assistance that would be given you by each dog's acknowledging his own particular whistle, and no other—[275]—is very apparent.
[164]. It is difficult enough to make three dogs traverse across you on tolerably distinct parallels; and at a judicious distance between the parallels you will find it hopeless to attempt it with more than three; and one can hardly imagine a case in which it would be advantageous to uncouple a greater number of good rangers. If, however, the scarcity of game, and the extensiveness of your beat, or any peculiar fancy, induce you habitually to use four dogs, hunt one brace to the right, the other to the left; and, so far as you can, let those which form a brace be of equal speed.[28] Your task will be facilitated by your always keeping the same brace to one flank—I mean, by making one brace constantly hunt to your right hand; the other brace to your left. The same reasoning holds with regard to assigning to each dog a particular side when hunting three, according to the mode described in last paragraph. It should, however, be borne in mind, that constantly hunting a dog in this manner on one and the same flank, tends to make him range very disagreeably whenever employed single-handed.
[165]. If you hunt five dogs, four of them ought to work by braces to the right and left, and the fifth—the dog whose rate of speed most varies from the others—should have a narrow beat assigned him directly in advance of you.
[166]. If three brace are to be used, let the third brace hunt the central ground, as recommended for the fifth dog—or they could be worked in leashes, one on the right of the gun, the other on the left.
[167]. These are the correct theoretical rules, and the more closely you observe them, the more truly and killingly will your ground be hunted.
[168]. Probably you will think that such niceties are utterly impracticable. They must be impracticable if you look for mathematical precision; but if you hope to shoot over more than mere rabble, you should work upon system. If you do not, what can you expect but an unorganized mob?—an undrilled set, perpetually running over each other's ground,—now grouped in this part, now crowded in that,—a few likely spots being hunted by all (especially if they are old dogs), the rest of the field by none of them; and to control whose unprofitable wanderings, why not employ a regular huntsman and a well-mounted whip? Doubtless it would be absurd to hope for perfect accuracy in so difficult a matter as a systematic range in a brigade of dogs; but that you may approach correctness, take a true standard of excellence. If you do not keep perfection in view, you will never attain to more than mediocrity. I earnestly hope, however, that it cannot be your wish to take out a host of dogs—but should you have such a singular hobby, pray let them be regularly brigaded, and not employed as a pack. In my opinion, under no circumstances can more than relays of leashes be desirable; but I should be sorry in such matters to dispute any man's right to please himself; I only wish him, whatever he does, to strive to do it correctly.
[169]. Some men who shoot on a grand scale make their keepers hunt each a distinct brace of dogs,—the gun going up to whatever dog points. It is the most killing plan to adopt; but that is not the matter we were considering. The question was, what method a man ought to pursue who had a fancy to himself hunt many dogs at a time.
[170]. If a professional breaker could show you a brigade of dogs well trained to quarter their ground systematically, and should ask from fifty to sixty guineas[29] a brace for them, you ought not to be surprised. What an extent of country they could sweep over in an hour and not leave a bird behind! And consider what time and labor must have been spent in inculcating so noble a range. He would have been far better paid if he had received less than half the money as soon as they "pointed steadily," both at the living and the dead; "down charged;" "backed:" and were broken from "chasing hare," or noticing rabbits.
[171]. Some men fancy that the faster they walk, the more country they hunt. This is far from being always the case. Dogs travel at one rate, whether you walk fast or slow, and the distance between the parallels on which they work—being determined by the fineness of their noses, and the goodness of the scent—ought not to be affected by your pace. Suppose, therefore, that you shoot in an unenclosed country, whether you walk quickly, or merely crawl along, the only difference in the beat of your dogs ought to be that, in the latter case, they range further to the right and the left. You thus make up in your breadth what you lose in your length of beat.
[172]. Nor do the fastest dogs, however well they may be broken, always truly hunt the most ground. The slower dogs have frequently finer olfactory nerves than their fleeter rivals,—therefore the parallels on which the former work may correctly be much wider apart than the parallels of the latter. The finer nose in this manner commands so much more ground that it beats the quicker heels out and out.
[173]. You will see, then, how judicious it is to show forbearance and give encouragement to the timid, but high-bred class[30] of dogs described in [114]; for it is obvious that, though they may travel slower, yet they may really hunt properly, within a specified time, many more acres of ground than their hardier and faster competitors; and it is certain that they will not so much alarm the birds. Dogs that are most active with their heels are generally least busy with their noses.
FOOTNOTES:
[27] Entitled, "Field Sports in the United States and British Provinces, by Frank Forester."
[28] A rule to be followed whenever you employ relays of braces.
[29] 250 to 300 dollars. This would be by no means an extraordinary price here, however extraordinary it might be to see dogs so qualified.—H.W.H.
[30] It is admitted, however, that they are often difficult animals to manage; for the least hastiness on the part of the instructor may create a distrust that he will find it very hard to remove.
CHAPTER IX.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. "POINT" NOT RELINQUISHED FOR "DOWN CHARGE."
[174]. To proceed, however, with our imaginary September day's work. I will suppose that your young dog has got upon birds, and that from his boldness and keenness in hunting you need not let him run riot on a haunt, as you were recommended (in [111]) when you wished to give courage and animation to a timid dog. You must expect that his eagerness and delight will make him run in and flush them, even though you should have called out "Toho" when first you perceived his stern begin feathering, and thence judged that his olfactory nerves were rejoicing in the luxurious taint of game. Hollo out "Drop" most energetically. If he does not immediately lie down, crack your whip loudly to command greater attention. When you have succeeded in making him lie down, approach him quietly: be not angry with him, but yet be stern in manner. Grasping the skin of his neck, or, what is better, putting your hand within his collar—for he ought to wear a light one—quietly drag him to the precise spot where you think he was first aware of the scent of the birds. There make him stand—if stand he will, instead of timidly crouching—with his head directed towards the place from which the birds took wing, and by frequently repeating the word "Toho," endeavor to make him understand that he ought to have pointed at that identical spot. Do not confuse him by even threatening to beat him. The chances are twenty to one that he is anxious to please you, but does not yet know what you wish. I assume also that he is attached to you, and his affection, from constantly inducing him to exert himself to give satisfaction, will greatly develope his observation and intelligence.
[175]. Consider it a golden rule never to be departed from—for I must again impress upon you a matter of such importance—invariably to drag a dog who has put up birds incautiously, or wilfully drawn too near them, and so sprung them—or, what is quite as bad,—though young sportsmen will not sufficiently think of it,—endangered their rising out of shot—to the exact spot at which you judge he ought to have pointed at first, and awaited your instructions.
[176]. Think for one moment what could be the use of chiding—or beating, as I have seen some ***** do—the poor animal at the spot where he flushed the birds. You are not displeased with him (or ought not to be) because the birds took wing,—for if they had remained stationary until he was within a yard of them, his fault would have been the same: nor are you angry with him because he did not catch them—which interpretation he might, as naturally as any other, put upon your rating him at the spot where he flushed them—you are displeased with him for not having pointed at them steadily the moment he became sensible of their presence. This is what you wish him to understand, and this you can only teach him by dragging him, as has been so often said, to the spot at which he ought to have "toho-ed" them. Your object is to give the young dog, by instruction, the caution that most old dogs have acquired by experience. Doubtless experience would in time convince him of the necessity of this caution; but you wish to save time,—to anticipate that experience; and by a judicious education impart to him knowledge which it would take him years to acquire otherwise. What a dog gains by experience is not what you teach him, but what he teaches himself.
[177]. Many carelessly-taught dogs will, on first recognising a scent, make a momentary point, and then slowly crawl on until they get within a few yards of the game—if it be sufficiently complaisant to allow of such a near approach—and there "set" as steady as a rock by the hour together. Supposing, however, that the birds are in an unfriendly, distant mood, and not willing to remain on these neighborly terms, "your game is up," both literally and metaphorically,—you have no chance of getting a shot. This is a common fault among dogs hastily broken in the spring.
[178]. But to resume our supposed lesson. You must not be in a hurry—keep your dog for some time—for a long time, where he should have pointed. You may even sit down alongside him. Be patient; you have not come out so much to shoot, as to break in your dog. When at length you give him the wave of the hand to hie him on to hunt, you must not part as enemies, though I do not say he is to be caressed. He has committed a fault, and he is to be made sensible of it by your altered manner.
Suppose that, after two or three such errors, all treated in the way described, he makes a satisfactory point. Hold up your right hand, and the moment you catch his eye, remain quite stationary, still keeping your arm up. Dogs, as has been already observed, are very imitative; and your standing stock still will, more than anything else, induce him to be patient and immovable at his point. After a time—say five minutes, if, from the hour of the day and the dog's manner, you are convinced that the birds are not stirring—endeavor to get up to him so quietly as not to excite him to move. Whenever you observe him inclined to advance,—of which his lifting a foot or even raising a shoulder, or the agitation of his stern will be an indication,—stop for some seconds, and when by your raised hand you have awed him into steadiness, again creep on. Make your approaches within his sight, so that he may be intimidated by your eye and hand. If you succeed in getting near him without unsettling him, actually stay by him, as firm as a statue, for a quarter of an hour by one of Barwise's best chronometers. Let your manner, which he will observe, show great earnestness. Never mind the loss of time. You are giving the dog a famous lesson, and the birds are kindly aiding you by lying beautifully and not shifting their ground.
[179]. Now attempt a grand coup, in which if you are successful, you may almost consider your dog made staunch for ever. Keeping your eye on him, and your hand up—of course the right one—make a circuit, so that the birds shall be between him and you. Be certain that your circle is sufficiently wide—if it is not, the birds may get up behind you, and so perplex him that at his next find he will feel doubtful how to act. Fire at no skirter, or chance shot. Reserve yourself for the bird or birds at which he points; a caution more necessary on the moors than on the stubbles, as grouse spread while feeding. When you have well headed him, walk towards him and spring the birds. Use straight shooting-powder. Take a cool aim well forward, and knock down one. Do not flurry the dog by firing more than a single barrel, or confuse him by killing more than one bird. If you have been able to accomplish all this without his stirring—though, to effect it, you may have been obliged to use your voice—you have every right to hope, from his previous education, that he will readily "down-charge" on hearing the report of your gun. Do not hurry your loading:—indeed, be unnecessarily long, with the view of making him at all such times patient and steady. If, in spite of all your calls and signals, he ever gives chase to the sprung birds, make him "drop,"—instantly if possible—and proceed much as described in [174], dragging him back to the place where he should have "down-charged."
[180]. When you have loaded, say "Dead,"[31] in a low voice, and signalling to "heel" make him come up to you, yourself keeping still. By signs—XI. of [119]—place him as near as you can, but to leeward of the dead bird. Then, and not till then, say, "Find;" give him no other assistance. Let him have plenty of time to make out the bird. It is not to be find and grip, but find and point,[32] therefore the moment you perceive he is aware that it is before him, make him—by word of command—"toho:"—go up to him, stay for a while alongside him, then make a small circuit to head him, and have the bird between you and him; approach him. If he attempt to dash in, thunder out "No," and greet him with at least the sound of the whip: slowly pick up the dead bird; call the dog to you; show him the bird; but on no account throw it to him, lest he snatch at it; lay it on the ground, encourage him to sniff it; let him—for reason why see [216]—turn it over with his nose—teeth closed—say to him, "Dead, dead;" caress him; sit down; smoothe the feathers of the bird; let him perceive that you attach much value to it; and after a while loop it on the game bag, allowing him all the time to see what you are doing. After that, make much of him for full five minutes: indeed with some dogs it would be advisable to give a palatable reward, but be not invariably very prodigal of these allurements; you may have a pupil whose attention they might engross more than they ought. Then walk about a little time with him at your heels. All this delay and caressing will serve to show him that the first tragedy is concluded, and has been satisfactorily performed. You may now hie him on to hunt for more birds.
[181]. Pray mind what is said about making your youngster point the dead bird staunchly, the moment you perceive that he first scents it. Should he be allowed to approach so near as to be able to touch it—instead of being made to point the instant he finds,—the chances are, that if hard-mouthed he will give it a crunch, if tender-mouthed a fumbling of the feathers; and either proceeding satisfying him, that he will quit it, and not further aid you in a search. As "pointing" is only a natural pause—prolonged by art—to determine exactly where the game is lying, preparatory to rushing forward to seize, it would be unreasonable to expect him willingly to make a second point at game he has not only found but mouthed—the evil, however, does not rest here. There is such a disagreeable thing as blinking a dead bird, no less than blinking a sound one. For mouthing the bird you may possibly beat the dog, or for nosing it and not pointing you may rate him harshly, either of which, if he be not of a bold disposition, may lead, on the next occasion, to his slinking off after merely obtaining a sniff. You ought, in fact, to watch as carefully for your pupil's first "feathering" upon the dead bird, as you did—[174]—upon his first coming upon the covey. You see, then, that your teaching him to "point dead" is absolutely indispensable; unless, indeed, you constantly shoot with a retriever. Pointing at a live bird or at a dead one should only differ in this, that in the latter case the dog makes a nearer point. Begin correctly, and you will not have any difficulty; but you may expect the greatest if you let your dog go up to one or two birds and mouthe them, before you commence making him point them. The following season, should you then permit him to lift his game, it will be time enough to dispense with his "pointing dead." I dwell upon this subject because many excellent dogs, from not having been properly taught to "point dead," often fail in securing the produce of a successful shot, while, on the contrary, with judiciously educated dogs it rarely happens that any of the slain or wounded are left on the field. Moreover, the protracted search and failure—as an instance see [217]—occasions a lamentable loss of time. Were a sportsman who shoots over dogs not well broken to "point dead"—or retrieve—to calculate accurately, watch in hand, he would, I think, be surprised to find how many of his best shooting hours are wasted in unprofitable searching for birds of the certainty of whose untimely fate his dogs had probably long before fully convinced themselves.
[182]. As to the word "Dead," whether you choose to continue using it immediately after loading, or, as I have recommended—XI. of [119]—after a time omit it, and merely let the signal to "heel" intimate that you have killed, always make your dog go to you before you allow him to seek for the fallen bird.
[183]. Some may say, "As a dog generally sees a bird fall, what is the use of calling him to you before you let him seek?—and even if he does not see the bird, why should any time be lost? Why should not you and he go as direct to it as you can?"
[184]. Provided you have no wish that the "finder"—see [295]—rather than any of his companions, should be allowed the privilege of "seeking dead," I must admit that in the cultivated lands of England, when a dog "sees a bird fall," he might in nine cases out of ten go direct to it without inconvenience. Even here, however, there are occasions when intervening obstacles may prevent you observing what the dog is about; and in cover, so far from being able to give him any assistance by signalling, you may be ignorant whether or not he has seen the bird knocked over, or is even aware of the general direction in which he ought to seek. But in the oft-occurring cases in which "he does not see the bird fall," it is obvious—particularly when he happens to be at the extremity of his beat,—that you will far more quickly place him where you wish, if you make him, at first, run up to you, and then advance from you, straight to the bird, by your forward signal—[190]. These good results at least will follow, if you remain stationary, and make him join you. You do not lose sight of the spot where you marked that the bird or birds fell. The foil is not interfered with by your walking over the ground—a matter of much importance, especially on bad-scenting days. The dog, if habituated to "seek" without your companionship, will readily hunt morasses and ravines, where you might find it difficult to accompany him. He will feel the less free to follow his own vagaries; and this consciousness of subjection will dispose him to pay more watchful attention to your signals. He will the more patiently wait at the "down charge;" and when you are reloaded will not be so tempted to dash recklessly after the bird, regardless whether or not he raises others on the way. If he is dragging a cord, you can the more easily take hold of its end, in order to check him, and make him point when he first winds the dead bird—and, should you be shooting over several dogs, by none of them being permitted to run direct to the fallen bird they will the less unwillingly allow you to select the one who is to approach close to you before "seeking dead."
[185]. The opponents of this method argue, that the practice may give the dog the bad habit of running immediately after the "down charge" to the gun, instead of recommencing to hunt; particularly if he is shot over by a first-rate performer. Granted; but is not the temptation to bolt off in search of a dead bird still stronger? To check the former evil, endeavor to make the coming to "heel" an act of obedience rather than a voluntary act, by never failing, as soon as you are re-loaded, to give the customary signal—VIII. of [119]—when you have killed, or the signal to "hie on" should you have missed.
[186]. Moreover, you will sometimes meet with a dog who, when a bird has been fired at, though it be the first and only one sprung of a large covey, commences "seeking dead" immediately after the "down charge," apparently considering that his first duty. This sad, sad fault—for it frequently leads to his raising the other birds out of shot—is generally attributable to the dog's having been allowed to rush at the fallen bird, instead of being accustomed to the restraint of having first to run up to the gun.
[187]. To prevent your pupil ever behaving so badly, often adopt the plan of not "seeking dead" immediately after loading, especially if the birds are lying well. Mark accurately the spot where your victim lies, and closely hunt for others, endeavoring to instil great caution into the dog, much in the manner—being guided by his disposition and character—described in [144], [145], and [228]. As long as any of the covey remain unsprung, you ought not to pick up one dead bird, though you should have a dozen on the ground. Your dog ought not even to "down charge" after you have fired, if he is fully aware that more birds are before him. To impart to him the knowledge that, however important is the "down charge," his continuing at his point is still more so, you may, when the birds are lying well and he is at a fixed point, make your attendant discharge a gun at a little distance while you remain near the dog, encouraging him to maintain his "toho." If you have no attendant, and the birds lie like stones, fire off a barrel yourself while the dog is steadily pointing. He will fancy you see birds which he has not noticed, and, unless properly tutored and praised by you, will be desirous to quit those he has found, to search for the bird he conceives you have shot.
[188]. It is a fine display of intelligence in the dog, and of judicious training in the breaker—may it be your desert and reward ere long to witness it in your pupil,—when a pointer—or setter—in goodly turnips or strong potatoes draws upon birds which obligingly rise one after the other, while by continuing his eloquent attitude he assures you that some still remain unsprung, to which he is prepared to lead you if you will but attend to them and him, and, instead of pot-hunting after those you have killed, wait until his discriminating nose informs him that, having no more strangers to introduce, he is at liberty to assist you in your search.
[189]. To revert, however, to the point particularly under discussion, viz., whether you prefer that your dog go direct to the fallen bird, or—as I strongly recommend—that he first join you, pray be consistent, exact which you will, but always exact the same, if you are anxious to obtain cheerful unhesitating obedience.
[190]. I have seen the advantage of the latter method very strikingly exemplified in America, in parts of which there is capital snipe-shooting.[33] In the high grass and rushes on the banks of the Richelieu, many a bird have I seen flushed and shot at, of which the liver and white pointer, ranging at a little distance, has known nothing. As he was well broken in, on hearing the report of the gun, he, of course, dropped instantly. His master, when he had reloaded, if the bird had fallen, used invariably to say "Dead,"[34] in a low tone of voice, on which the dog would go up to him; and then his master, without stirring from the spot where he had fired, directed him by signals to the place where the bird had tumbled, and in proceeding thither, the dog often had to swim the stream. His master then said "Find." At that word, and not before it, his intelligent four-footed companion commenced the search for the bird, nor did he ever fail to find and bring; and so delicate was his mouth that I have often seen him deliver up a bird perfectly alive, without having deranged a feather, though, very probably, he had swam with it across one of the many creeks which intersect that part of the country. If the shot was a miss, his master's silence after reloading, and a wave of his arm to continue hunting—or the command to "Hie on," if the dog was hidden by the rushes—perhaps a low whistle would have been better,—fully informed his companion of the disappointment. He was quite as good on the large quail, and small wood-cock found in Canada, which latter makes a ringing noise on rising, not unlike the sound of a distant soft bell; but reminiscences of that capital old dog are leading me away from your young one.
[191]. For some days you cannot shoot to your pupil too steadily and quietly—I had well nigh said too slowly. By being cool, calm, and collected yourself, you will make him so. I am most unwilling to think that you will be too severe, but I confess I have my misgivings lest you should occasionally overlook some slight faults in the elation of a successful right and left. Filling the game-bag must be quite secondary to education. Never hesitate to give up any bird if its acquisition interfere with a lesson. Let all that you secure be done according to rule, and in a sportsmanlike manner.
FOOTNOTES:
[31] As he acquires experience he will wish to rise the moment he observes that your loading is completed. Do not allow him to move, however correctly he may have judged the time. Let his rising be always in obedience to signal or word. You may make a mistake in charging, or your friend may not load as expeditiously as yourself.
[32] Never being allowed to grip conduces so much to making him tender-mouthed, that, should he hereafter be permitted to lift his game, it is probable he will deliver it up perfectly uninjured.
[33] I reserve this anecdote on account of its interest and applicability to American readers.—H.W.H.
[34] In order to work in silence, I advised—XI. of [119]—that the signal to "heel" whenever the dog could observe it, should supersede the word "dead." It might be necessary to sing out with a boat-swain's voice should the dog be far off.
CHAPTER X.
FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. ASSISTANT.
[192]. It is proper you should be warned that you must not always expect a dog will "toho" the first day as readily as I have described, though most will, and some—especially pointers—even more quickly, if they have been previously well-drilled, and have been bred for several generations from parents of pure blood.
I do not say bred in and in. Breeding in and in, to a certainty, would enfeeble their intellects as surely as their constitutions. In this way has many a kennel been deprived of the energy and endurance so essential in a sportsman's dog.
[193]. As in the present instance, it often occurs that a dog is less inclined to dash in at first than when he is more acquainted with birds. He is suddenly arrested by the novelty of the scent, and it is not until he is fully assured from what it proceeds that he longs to rush forward and give chase. In autumnal breaking the dog gets his bird—it is killed for him—he is satisfied—and therefore he has not the same temptation to rush in as when he is shown birds in the spring.
[194]. If you find your dog, from excess of delight and exuberance of spirits, less under general command than from his initiatory education you had expected, and that he will not "toho" steadily at the exact spot at which you order him, at once attach a checkcord to his collar. It will diminish his pace, and make him more cautious and obedient. The moment you next see him begin to feather, get up quickly, but without running, to the end of the cord, and check him with a sudden jerk, if you are satisfied that game is before him and that he ought to be pointing. If from his attitude and manner you are positive that there is game, drive a spike—or peg—into the ground, and tie the cord to it. I only hope the birds will remain stationary. If they do, you can give him a capital lesson by remaining patiently alongside of him and then heading him and the birds in the manner before described—[178], [179].
[195]. As a general rule, an attendant or any companion cannot be recommended, because he would be likely to distract a young dog's attention; but an intelligent fellow who would readily obey your signals, and not presume to speak, would doubtless, with a very wild dog, be an advantageous substitute for the spike. You could then employ a longer and slighter cord than usual, and, on the man's getting hold of the end of it, be at once free to head and awe the dog. Whenever you had occasion to stand still, the man would, of course, be as immovable as yourself.
Your signals to him might be:—
The gun held up,—"Get near the dog."
Your fist clenched,—"Seize the rope."
Your fist shaken,—"Jerk the cord."
Your hand spread open,—"Let go the cord."
Or any signs you pleased, so that you understood each other without the necessity of speaking.
[196]. Should it ever be your misfortune to have to correct in a dog evil habits caused by past mismanagement, such an attendant, if an active, observant fellow, could give you valuable assistance, for he sometimes would be able to seize the cord immediately the dog began "feathering," and generally would have hold of it before you could have occasion to fire. But the fault most difficult to cure in an old dog is a bad habit of ranging. If, as a youngster, he has been permitted to beat as his fancy dictated, and has not been instructed in looking to the gun for orders, you will have great, very great difficulty in reclaiming him. Probably he will have adopted a habit of running for a considerable distance up wind, his experience having shown him that it is one way of finding birds, but not having taught him that to seek for them by crossing the wind would be a better method.
The great advantage of teaching a dog to point the instant he is sensible of the presence of birds—[175]—and of not creeping a foot further until he is directed by you, is particularly apparent when birds are wild. While he remains steady, the direction of his nose will lead you to give a tolerable guess as to their "whereabouts," and you and your companion can keep quite wide of the dog—one on each side,—and so approach the birds from both flanks. They, meanwhile, finding themselves thus intercepted in three directions, will probably lie so close as to afford a fair shot to at least one gun, for they will not fail to see the dog and be awed by his presence. Raise your feet well off the ground to avoid making a noise. Walk quickly, but with no unnecessary flourish, of arms or gun.
[197]. You must not, however, too often try to work round and head your pupil when he is pointing. Judgment is required to know when to do it with advantage. If the birds were running, you would completely throw him out, and greatly puzzle and discourage him, for they probably would then rise out of shot, behind you if they were feeding up wind,—behind him if they were feeding down wind. Far more frequently make him work out the scent by his own sagacity and nose, and lead you up to the birds, every moment bristling more and more, at a pace entirely controlled and regulated by your signals. These being given with your right hand will be more apparent to him if you place yourself on his left side. It is in this manner that you give him a lesson which will hereafter greatly aid him in recovering slightly winged birds,—in pressing to a rise the slow-winged, but nimble-heeled rail,—or in minutely following the devious mazes through which an old cock pheasant, or yet more, an old cock grouse, may endeavor to mislead him. And yet this lesson should not be given before he is tolerably confirmed at his point, lest he should push too fast on the scent; and make a rush more like the dash of a cocker than the sober, convenient "road" of a setter. As his experience increases he will thus acquire the valuable knowledge of the position of his game—he will lead you to the centre of a covey, or what is of greater consequence—as grouse spread—to the centre of a pack,—instead of allowing himself to be attracted to a flank by some truant from the main body,—and thus get you a good double shot, and enable you effectually to separate the birds—he will, moreover, become watchful, and sensible of his distance from game—a knowledge all important, and which, be it remarked, he never could gain in turnips, or potatoes, or any thick cover.
[198]. There is another and yet stronger reason why you should not consider it a rule always to head your young dog at his point. You may—although at first it seems an odd caution to give—make him too stanch. This, to be sure, signifies less with partridges than with most birds; but if you have ever seen your dog come to a fixed point, and there, in spite of all your efforts, remain provokingly immovable—plainly telling you of the vicinity of birds, but that you must find them out for yourself—your admiration of his steadiness has, I think, by no means reconciled you to the embarrassing position in which it has placed you. I have often witnessed this vexatious display of stanchness, although the owner cheered on the dog in a tone loud enough to alarm birds two fields off.
[199]. A keeper will sometimes praise his dog for such stanchness; but it is a great fault, induced probably by over-severity for former rashness,—and the more difficult to be cured, if the animal is a setter, from the crouching position he often naturally assumes when pointing.
[200]. I here desire to warn you against the too common error of fancying that a young dog is making false points if birds do not get up directly. They may have taken leg-bail, and thus have puzzled him in his inexperience. Dogs not cowed by punishment will, after a little hunting, seldom make false points, while they are unfatigued. To a certainty they will not draw upon a false point for any distance: therefore, never punish what is solely occasioned by over-caution. Your doing so would but increase the evil. Self-confidence and experience are the only cures for a fault that would be a virtue if not carried to excess. Even a good dog will occasionally make a point at larks from over-caution when birds are wild; but see the first note to [144].
[201]. After you have shot over a dog a short time, his manner and attitude will enable you to guess pretty accurately whether birds are really before him; whether they are far off or near; and whether or not they are on the move. Generally speaking, the higher he carries his head, and the less he stiffens his stern, the further off are the birds. If he begins to look nervous, and become fidgety, you will seldom be wrong in fancying they are on the run. But various, and at times most curious, are the methods that dogs will adopt, apparently with the wish to show you where the birds are, and certainly with the desire to get you a shot.
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].
CHAPTER XII.
SHOOTING HARES. COURAGE IMPARTED.—"BACKING" TAUGHT.
[230]. Probably you may be in a part of the country where you may wish to kill hares to your dog's point. I will, therefore, speak about them, though I confess I cannot do it with much enthusiasm. Ah! my English friend, what far happier autumns we should spend could we but pass them in the Highlands! Then we should think little about those villanous hares. We should direct the whole undivided faculties of our dogs, to work out the haunt of the noble grouse.[42] As for rabbits, I beg we may have no further acquaintance, if you ever even in imagination, shoot them to your young dog. Should you be betrayed into so vile a practice, you must resign all hope of establishing in him a confirmed systematic range. He will degenerate into a low potterer,—a regular hedge-hunter. In turnips he will always be thinking more of rabbits than birds. It will be soon enough to shoot the little wretches to him when he is a venerable grandfather. The youngster's noticing them—which he would be sure to do if you had ever killed one to him—might frequently lead to your mis-instructing him, by earnestly enforcing "Care" at a moment when you ought to rate him loudly with the command "Ware"—or "No." But to our immediate subject.
[231]. Defer as long as possible the evil day of shooting a hare over him, that he may not get too fond—[65]—of such vermin—I beg pardon, I mean game—and when you do kill one, so manage that he may not see it put into the bag. On no account let him mouthe it. You want him to love the pursuit of feather more than of fur, that he may never be taken off the faintest scent of birds by coming across the taint of a hare. I therefore entreat you, during his first season, if you will shoot hares, to fire only at those which you are likely to kill outright; for the taint of a wounded hare is so strong that it would probably diminish his zeal, and the sensitiveness of his nose, in searching for a winged bird.
[232]. The temptation is always great to quit for a strong scent of hare—which any coarse-nosed dog can follow—a feeble one of birds; therefore it is a very satisfactory test of good breaking to see a dog, when he is drawing upon birds, in no way interrupted by a hare having just crossed before him. If you aim at such excellence, and it is frequently attained in the Highlands, it is certain you must not shoot hares over your youngster.
[233]. I hope that he will not see a hare before you have shot a few birds over him. The first that springs up near him will test the perfection to which he has attained in his initiatory lessons. Lose not a moment. It is most essential to restrain instantaneously the naturally strong impulse of the dog to run after four-footed game. Halloo out "Drop" to the extent of your voice,—raise your hand,—crack your whip,—do all you can to prevent his pursuing. Of course you will not move an inch. Should he commence running, thunder out "No," "no." If, in spite of everything, he bolts after the hare, you have nothing for it but patience. It's no use to give yourself a fit of asthma by following him. You have only half as many legs as he has—a deficiency you would do well to keep secret from him as long as possible. Wait quietly where you are—for an hour if necessary. You have one consolation,—puss, according to her usual custom, has run down wind,—your dog has lost sight of her, and is, I see, with his nose to the ground, giving himself an admirable lesson in reading out a haunt. After a time he will come back looking rather ashamed of himself, conscious that he did wrong in disobeying, and vexed with himself from having more than a suspicion forced upon him, that he cannot run so fast as the hare. When he has nearly reached you, make him "drop." Scold him severely, saying, "Ware chase"—a command that applies to the chase of birds as well as of hares.—Pull him to the place where he was when first he got a view of the hare,—make him lie down—rate him well,—call out "No," or "Hare," or "Ware chase," or any word you choose, provided you uniformly employ the same. Smack the whip and punish him with it, but not so severely as you did when we assumed that he tore the bird—end of [221]. You then flogged him for two offences: first, because he rushed in and seized the bird; secondly, because he tore it and tasted blood. If you had not then punished him severely, you could never have expected him to be tender-mouthed. On the next occasion he might have swallowed the bird, feathers and all.
[234]. Should he persist in running after hares, you must employ the checkcord. If you see the hare, at which he is pointing, in its form, drive a peg firmly into the ground, and attach the cord to it, giving him a few slack yards, so that after starting off he may be arrested with a tremendous jerk. Fasten the line to the part of the spike close to the ground, or he may pull it out.
[235]. I have known a dog to be arrested in a headlong chase by a shot fired at him—an act which you will think yet more reprehensible than the previous mismanagement for which his owner apparently knew no other remedy than this hazardous severity.
[236]. When you are teaching your dog to refrain from chasing hares, take him, if you can, where they are plentiful. If they are scarce, and you are in the neighborhood of a rabbit-warren, visit it occasionally of an evening. He will there get so accustomed to see the little animals running about unpursued by either of you, that his natural anxiety to chase fur, whether it grow on the back of hare or rabbit, will be gradually diminished.
[237]. In Scotland there are tracts of heather where one may hunt for weeks together and not find a hare; indeed, it is commonly observed, that hares are always scarce on those hills where grouse most abound. In other parts they are extremely numerous. Some sports men in the Highlands avail themselves of this contrasted ground in order to break a young dog from "chasing." They hunt him, as long as he continues fresh, where there are no hares; and when he becomes tired, they take him to the Lowlands, where they are plentiful. By then killing a good many over him, and severely punishing him whenever he attempts to follow, a cure is often effected in two or three days. In the yet higher ranges, the mountain-hares, from possessing a peculiarly strong scent, and not running to a distance, are a severe trial to the steadiest dog.
[238]. Killing a sitting hare to your dog's point will wonderfully steady him from chasing; but do not fire until he has remained stanch for a considerable time. This will show him that puss is far more likely to be bagged by your firing than by his pursuing.
[239]. For the same object,—I mean to make your young dog stanch,—I would recommend your killing a few birds on the ground to his point were it not that you rarely have the opportunity.
[240]. When you have made your dog perfectly steady from chasing you may—supposing you have no retriever at hand,—naturally enough, inquire how you are to teach him to follow any hare you may be so unlucky as merely to wound. I acknowledge that the task is difficult. I would say, at once resolve to give up every wounded hare during his first season.[43] The following year, provided you find that he remains quite steady, on your wounding an unfortunate wretch, encourage your dog to pursue it by running yourself after it. When he gets hold of it, check him if he mauls it, and take it from him as quickly as possible. As I cannot suppose that you are anxious to slaughter every hare you see, let the next two or three go off without a shot. This forbearance will re-steady him, and after a while his own sagacity and nose—[297]—will show him that the established usage was departed from solely because puss was severely struck.
[241]. As you wish to flog your dog as little as possible, never go out without your whip, paradoxical as this may appear. The dog's salutary awe of the implement which he sees in your possession, like a horse's consciousness of your heel being armed with a spur, will tend to keep him in order. If your dog is a keen ranger, you may much spare the whip by making him crouch at your feet for several minutes after he has committed a fault. The detention will be felt by him, when he is all anxiety to be off hunting, as a severe punishment. If he is a mettlesome, high-couraged animal, he will regard as a yet severer punishment his being compelled to follow at your heels for half-an-hour, while the other dogs are allowed the enjoyment of hunting.
[242]. Excess of punishment has made many a dog of good promise a confirmed blinker; and of far more has it quenched that keen ardor for the sport, without which no dog can be first-rate. For this reason, if not from more humane motives, make it a rule to give but few cuts; let them, however, be tolerably severe. Your pupil's recollection of them, when he hears the crack of the whip, will prevent the necessity of their frequent repetition.
[243]. I knew of a young fellow's purchasing a pointer of an excellent breed from a gamekeeper for a few shillings merely, as the animal had become so timid from over-chastisement, that she not only blinked her game, but seldom quitted the man's heels. The lad had the good sense to treat the bitch, at all times, with the greatest kindness: and in order to induce her to hunt, he used to break off the feet of every bird he killed, and give them to her to eat along with the sinews. The plan succeeded so well that she eventually became an unusually keen and fast ranger. This would be a hazardous step to take with a dog wanted to retrieve. There are few, if any dogs who may not be tempted by hunger to eat game. A gentleman told me, that, to his great astonishment, he one day saw an old tender-mouthed retriever, that he had possessed for years, deliberately swallow a partridge. Before he could get up to the dog even the tail-feathers had disappeared. On inquiry it turned out that, through some neglect, the animal had not been fed.
[244]. Some argue that blinking arises from a defective nose, not from punishment; but surely it is the injudicious chastisement following the blunders caused by a bad nose that makes a dog, through fear, go to "heel" when he winds birds. A bad nose may lead to a dog's running up birds from not noticing them, but it cannot naturally induce him to run away from them. Possibly he may be worthless from a deficiency in his olfactory powers; but it is hard to conceive how these powers can be improved by a dread of doing mischief when he finds himself near game. Some dogs that have been unduly chastised do not even betray themselves by running to "heel," but cunningly slink away from their birds without giving you the slightest intimation of their vicinity. I have seen such instances. When a young dog, who has betrayed symptoms of blinking, draws upon birds, head him, if you can, before you give him the order to "toho:" he will then have such a large circuit to make, that he will feel the less tempted to run to your heels.
[245]. Obedience and intelligence are, as I have already remarked, best secured by judicious ratings and encouragements—scoldings for bad conduct,—praise, caresses, and rewards for good. Never forget, therefore, to have some delicacy in your pocket to give the youngster whenever he may deserve it. All dogs, however, even the most fearful, ought to be made able to bear a little punishment. If, unfortunately, your dog is constitutionally timid—I cannot help saying unfortunately, though so many of the sort have fine noses—the whip must be employed with the greatest gentleness, the lash being rather laid on the back than used, until such forbearance, and many caresses before his dismissal, have gradually banished the animal's alarm, and ultimately enabled you to give him a very slight beating, on his misconducting himself, without any danger of making him blink. By such means, odd as it may sound, you create courage, and with it give him self-confidence and range.
[246]. A judiciously-educated dog will know as well as you do whether or not he has earned a chastisement, and many a one is of so noble a nature that he will not wish to avoid it if he is conscious that he deserves it. He will become as anxious for good sport as you are, and feel that he ought to be punished, if from his own misconduct he mars it. Indeed, he will not have much opinion of your sagacity if you do not then give him a sound rating, or let him have a taste of the lash, though it matters not how slight. Clearly this feeling, which it will be right to foster, must have arisen from his belief that you are always conscious of his actions—[262]—therefore never check him for coming towards you on his committing any unseen error. Moreover, when he has been but a little shot to, you will find that if you abstain from firing at a bird which through his fault he has improperly flushed, although in its flight it affords you an excellent shot, you will greatly vex him; and this will tend to make him-more careful for the future.
[247]. When, after a few weeks, you perceive that the youngster has confidence in himself, and is likely to hunt independently, not deferentially following the footsteps of an older companion, take out a well-broken dog with him, that you may have the opportunity of teaching him to "back." Be careful to choose one not given to make false points; for if he commits such mistakes, your pupil will soon utterly disregard his pointing. Select also one who draws upon his birds in a fine, determined attitude; not one to whose manner even you must be habituated to feel certain he is on game. Be watchful to prevent your dog ever hunting in the wake of the other, which, in the humility of canine youth, he probably will, unless you are on the alert to wave him in a different direction, the moment you observe him inclined to seek the company of his more experienced associate. By selecting a slow old dog you will probably diminish the wish of the young one to follow him; for it is likely that the youngster's eagerness will make him push on faster, and so take the lead.
[248]. The example for a few days—but only for a few days—of a good stanch dog who is not a hedge-hunter,—has no bad habits, and does not require being called to—will be advantageous to your inexperienced animal.
[249]. On the old dog's pointing, catch the eye of the young one. If you cannot readily do so, and are not afraid of too much alarming the birds, call to the old fellow by name, and desire him to "toho." The order will make the young one look round, and awaken him to a suspicion of what is going forward. Hold up your right arm—stand still for a minute—and then, carrying your gun as if you were prepared momentarily to fire, retreat, or move sideways in crab-like fashion towards the old dog, continuing your signal to the other to remain steady, and turning your face to him, so that he may be restrained by the feeling that your eye is constantly fixed upon him. He will soon remark the attitude of the old dog, and almost intuitively guess its meaning. Should the old one draw upon his game, still the other dog must remain stationary. If he advance but an inch, rate him. Should he rush up—which is hardly to be expected—at him at once;—having made him drop, catch hold of him, and drag him to the place at which he should have backed—there—if you judge such strong measures necessary—peg him down until after you have had your shot and are reloaded. If by heading the birds you can drive them towards the young dog, do so; and aim at the one most likely to fall near him. Endeavor to make him comprehend that any sign or word to urge on or retard the leading dog in no way applies to him. This he will soon understand, if he has been properly instructed with an associate in the initiatory lesson described in [45]. After you have picked up the bird let him sniff at it.
[250]. It is most important that the dog which first winds birds should be allowed to "road" them to a spring without being flurried, or in any way interfered with by another dog. Few things are more trying to your temper as a sportsman, than to see a self-sufficient cub, especially when birds are wild, creep up to the old dog whom he observes pointing at a distance, or cautiously drawing upon a covey. The young whipper-snapper pays no attention to your most energetic signals: you are afraid to speak lest you should alarm the birds, and before you can catch hold of the presumptuous jackanapes, he not only steals close to the good old dog, but actually ventures to head him; nay, possibly dares to crawl on yet nearer to the birds in the hope of enjoying a more intoxicating sniff.
[251]. All dogs but the "finder" should stand wholly by sight,—just the reverse of pointing. Your dog's nose ought to have nothing to do with backing. If you permit it, he will get the abominable habit of creeping up to his companions in the manner just described—[250]—when he observes them to be winding birds; and though he may not presume to take the lead, nay, even keep at so respectful a distance as in no way to annoy the "finder," yet a longing to inhale the "grateful steam"—as that good poet and capital sportsman, Somerville, terms it—will make him constantly watch the other dogs, instead of bestowing his undivided attention and faculties upon finding game for himself. It is quite enough if he backs whenever you order him, or he accidentally catches sight of another dog either "pointing" or "roading;" and the less he is looking after his companions, the more zealously will he attend to his own duties.
[252]. If you have any fears that the old dog when he is on birds will not act steadily, should you have occasion to chide the young one, be careful to give the old dog a word expressive of your approval, before you commence to rate the other.
[253]. When your youngster is hereafter hunted in company, should he make a point, and any intrusive companion, instead of properly backing him, be impertinently pressing on, the youngster should not be induced—however great may be the trial upon his patience and forbearance—to draw one foot nearer to the game than his own knowledge of distance tells him is correct; not even if his friend, or rather, jealous rival, boldly assumes the front rank. Your pupil will have a right to look to you for protection, and to expect that the rash intruder, however young, be at the least well rated.
[254]. It is a matter of little moment whether the "backer" attends to the "down charge," or continues to back as long as the other dog remains at his point. It appears, however, best that he should "drop," unless he is so near that he winds the game, when he would be rather pointing than backing—and should, consequently, behave as explained in [187];—for the fewer exceptions there are to general rules the more readily are the rules observed.
[255]. Should both dogs make separate points at the same moment, it is clear that neither can back the other. They must act independently—each for himself. Moreover, your firing over one should not induce the other to "down charge," or in any way divert his attention from his own birds. He ought to remain as immovable as a statue. Some dogs, whose high courage has not been damped by over-correction, will do this from their own sagacity; but to enable you to teach them to behave thus steadily, game should be plentiful. When you are lucky enough to observe both dogs pointing at the same time, let your fellow-sportsman—or your attendant—flush and fire at the birds found by the older dog, while you remain stationary near the young one, quietly but earnestly cautioning him to continue firm. When your companion has reloaded and picked up his game—and made the other dog "back,"—let him join you and knock over the bird at which your pupil is pointing. It will not be long before he—your young dog—understands what is required of him, if he has been practised—as recommended in [187]—not to "down charge" when pointing unsprung birds. In short, it may be received as an axiom, that nothing ought to make a dog voluntarily relinquish a point so long as he winds birds; and nothing but the wish to continue his point should make him neglect the "down charge" the instant he hears the near report of a gun.
FOOTNOTES:
[42] A superior dog on grouse more easily becomes good on partridge than a superior partridge-dog becomes good on grouse. Grouse run so much, both when they are pairing, and after the first flight of the young pack, that a dog broken on them has necessarily great practice in "roading,"—"roading," too, with the nose carried high to avoid strong heather—a valuable instructor,—whereas the dog broken on partridge often becomes impatient, and breaks away when he first finds grouse. The former dog, moreover, will learn not to "break fence," and the necessity of moderating his pace when hunting stubbles and turnips, sooner than the latter will acquire the extensive fast beat so desirable on heather, where he can work for hours uninterrupted by hedge, ditch, or furrow; making casts to the right and left a quarter of a mile in length. First impressions are as strong in puppyhood as in childhood; therefore the advantage of having such ground to commence on must be obvious. There are, however, favored spots in Perthshire, &c., where game so abounds that close rangers are as necessary as when hunting in England. Alas! even the grouse-dog will take far too quickly to hedge hunting; and pottering when on the stubbles. It is, of course, presumed that he is broken from "chasing hare"—a task his trainer must have found difficult—though none are ever shot to him—from the few that, comparatively speaking, his pupil could have seen. Independently, however, of want of pace and practice in roading, it never would be fair to take a dog direct from the Lowlands to contend on the Highlands with one habituated to the latter,—and vice versâ, for the stranger would always be placed to great disadvantage. A faint scent of game which the other would instantly recognise, he would not acknowledge from being wholly unaccustomed to it. Sometimes, however, a grouse dog of a ticklish temper will not bear being constantly called to on "breaking fence." A fine, free-ranging pointer, belonging to one of the brothers Hy, when brought to an enclosed country, became quite subdued and dispirited. He could not stand the rating he received for bounding over the hedges, and he evidently derived no enjoyment from the sport, though there were plenty of birds. On returning to the Highlands, he quite recovered his animation and perseverance. He added another to the many evidences that dogs are most attached to, and at home on, the kind of country they first hunted.
This note is applicable to the pointer, used to the pinnated grouse on the Prairies, when brought into close shooting on quail, &c. H.W.H.
[43] This appears extremely cruel; remember, however, that I entreated you to abstain entirely from shooting hares; but if you would not make this sacrifice, at least "only to fire at those which you were likely to kill outright"—[231].
CHAPTER XIII.
HINTS TO PURCHASERS. SHEEP KILLING.
[256]. When your dog has been properly taught the "back," fail not to recommence hunting him alone, if it is your object to establish a perfect range.
[257]. Professional dog-breakers, I have remarked, almost invariably hunt too many dogs together. This arises, I suppose, from the number which they have to train; but the consequence is, that the younger dogs are spectators rather than actors, and, instead of ranging independently in search of game, are watching the manœuvres of their older associates.
[258]. A glimmering of knowledge may be picked up in this way; but no one will argue that it is likely to create great excellence. Doubtless the young ones will be good backers; and to the inexperienced a troop of perhaps a dozen dogs, all in chiselled form, stanchly backing an old leader, is a most imposing sight—but if the observer were to accompany the whole party for a few hours, he would remark, I will bet any money, that the same veterans would over and over again find the birds, and that the "perfectly" broken young ones in the rear would do nothing but "back" and "down charge." What can they know of judicious quartering? Of obeying the signals of the hand? Of gradually drawing upon the faintest token of a scent—only perceptible to a nose carried high in the air—until they arrive at a confident point? Of perseveringly working out the foil of a slightly-winged bird, on a hot still day, to a sure "find?" Nothing, or next to nothing,—nearly all is to be taught; and yet the breaker will show off those raw recruits as perfectly drilled soldiers. Would they not have had a much better chance of really being so, if he had given a small portion of his time each day to each? He well knows they would; but the theatrical display would not be half so magnificent. If he had truly wished to give his pupils a good systematic range, without a doubt he would have devoted one hour in the field exclusively to each dog, rather than many hours to several at once—and not have associated any together in the field until he had gained full command over each separately. And this he would have done—because it would have tended to his interest,—had he supposed that his dog's qualifications would be investigated by judges—by those who would insist on seeing a dog hunted singly—in order to observe his method of ranging,—or with but one companion, before they thought of definitively purchasing.
[259]. At the beginning of a partridge season, I unexpectedly wanted to purchase a dog. An old gamekeeper—one on whose judgment I could rely, and who, I knew, would not willingly deceive me,—saw a setter in the field that he thought would please, and accordingly sent it to my kennel. I greatly liked the looks of the animal. He quartered his ground well—was obedient to the hand—carried a high and apparently tender nose—pointed, backed, and down-charged steadily. Unquestionably he had been well broken. I thought myself in great luck, and should not have hesitated to complete the purchase, but that fortunately I had an opportunity of shooting a bird over him, when to my horror he rushed at it with the speed of a greyhound. As, in spite of all my remonstrances, shouted in the most determined manner, he repeated this manœuvre whenever a bird fell, I returned him. I afterwards heard he had just been shot over by a party on the moors, who, no doubt, had spoilt him by their ignoble, pot-hunting propensities.
[260]. Had I chosen to sacrifice my shooting in order to reclaim him—which I must have done, had I too hastily concluded the purchase,—I ought to have sent home the other dogs, and proceeded, but with greater severity, much in the manner described in [220] and [222]. I ought not, however, to have gone after him when first he bolted; I ought merely to have endeavored to check him with my voice, for it would have been most important to set him a good example by remaining immovable myself, and he might have misconstrued any hasty advance on my part into rivalship for possession of the bird; in short, into a repetition of one of the many scrambles to which he had recently been accustomed, and in which I feel sure he must invariably have come off victorious. I ought, when loaded, to have walked calmly up to him, and, without taking the slightest notice of the disfigured bird, have dragged him back, while loudly rating him, to the spot where he should have "down charged." After a good flagellation—a protracted lecture—and a long delay,—the longer the better,—I ought to have made him cautiously approach the bird; and by a little scolding, and by showing him the wounds he had inflicted, have striven to make him sensible and ashamed of his enormities. Probably, too, had the birds lain well, the moment he pointed I should have employed the checkcord[44] with a spike, giving him a liberal allowance of slack line—[234]. Had I thus treated him throughout the day, I have little doubt but that he would have become a reformed character; though an occasional outbreak might not unreasonably have been expected. See [205 to 208].
[261]. To create a feeling of self-dependence, obviously there is no better plan than for a considerable time to take out the dog by himself, and thus force him to trust for sport to his own unaided powers; and when he is at length hunted in company, never to omit paying him the compliment of attending to every indication he evinces of being upon birds, even occasionally to the unfair neglect of confirmed points made by the other dogs.
[262]. I conceive those dogs must be considered the best which procure a persevering sportsman most shots in a season and lose him fewest winged birds.[45] If you are anxious for your pupil to attain this superlative excellence,—I will repeat it, at the risk of being accused of tautology,—you must be at all times consistently strict but never severe. Make him as much as you can, your constant companion; you will thereby much develope his intelligence, and so render him a more efficient assistant in the field, for he will understand your manner better and better, and greatly increase in affection as well as observation. Many men would like so faithful an attendant. Teach obedience at home—to obtain it in the field. Consider the instantaneous "drop," the moment he gets the signal, as all-important,—as the very key-stone of the arch that conducts to the glorious triumphs of due subordination. Notice every fault, and check it by rating, but never punish with the whip unless you judge it absolutely necessary. On the other hand, following Astley's plan—[10]—reward, or at least praise, every instance of good behavior, and you will be surprised how quickly your young dog will comprehend your wishes, and how anxious he will be to comply with them. Remember that evil practices, unchecked until they become confirmed habits, or any errors in training committed at the commencement of his education, cannot be repaired afterwards without tenfold—nay, twentyfold—trouble. Never let him hunt from under your eye. Unceasingly endeavor to keep alive in him as long as possible his belief that you are intuitively aware as fully when he is out of sight as within sight of every fault he commits, whether it arise from wilfulness or mere heedlessness. This is a very important admonition. Remember, however, that the best dogs will occasionally make mistakes when they are running down wind—especially if it blows hard,—and that there are days when there is scarcely any scent.—Note to [128].
[263]. Attend most carefully to the injunction not to let your dog hunt out of sight. It is essential that you do so.
[264]. Notwithstanding Beckford's capital story of the hounds making a dinner of the old ram which his lordship had left in their kennel to intimidate them, if your dog be unhappily too fond of mutton or lamb of his own killing, perhaps no better cure can be attempted, provided you superintend the operation, than that of muzzling him, and letting a strong ram give him a butting at the time that you are administering the lash, and hallooing out "Ware" or "Sheep." But, unfortunately, this too often fails.
[265]. If you do not succeed, you must hang or drown him,—the latter is probably the less painful death, but a charge of shot well lodged behind the ear in the direction of the brain would be yet better. Therefore you will not mind giving him another chance for his life, though confessedly the measure proposed is most barbarous. Procure an ash-pole about five feet long. Tie one extremity of the pole to a strong ram, by the part of the horns near the forehead. To the opposite extremity of the pole attach a strong spiked collar, and strap it round the dog's throat, to the audible tune of "Ware" or "Sheep." To prevent the possibility of the cord slipping, through each end of the pole burn a hole. The continued efforts of the ram for some hours either to free himself from his strange companion, or to attack him, will possibly so worry and punish the dog as to give him a distaste ever afterwards for anything of a woolly nature. The pole will so effectually separate these unwilling—but still too intimate—associates, that you need not muzzle the dog.
[266]. There is yet another remedy, which I will name, as it sounds reasonable, though I cannot speak of its merits from personal observation, never having seen it tried.
[267]. Wrap a narrow strip of sheep-skin, that has much wool on it, round the dog's lower jaw, the wool outwards, and fasten it so that he cannot get rid of it. Put this on him for a few hours daily and there is a chance that he will become as thoroughly disgusted as even you could wish, with every animal of the race whose coat furnished such odious mouthfuls; but prevention being better than cure, pay great attention to your dog's morals during the lambing season. Dogs not led away by evil companionship rarely commence their depredations upon sober full-grown sheep. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred,[46] they have previously yielded to the great temptation of running down some frisking lamb, whose animated gambols seemed to court pursuit.
[268]. If ever you have fears that you may be unable to prevent a dog's breaking away to worry sheep, hunt him in a muzzle of a size that will not interfere with his breathing, and yet effectually prevent the wide extension of his jaws.
[269]. The killing of fowls is more easily prevented. The temptation, though equally frequent, is not so great—he will only have tasted blood, not revelled in it. Take a dead fowl—one of his recent victims, if you can procure it—and endeavor, by pointing to it, while you are scolding him, to make him aware of the cause of your displeasure. Then secure him to a post, and thrash him about the head with the bird, occasionally favoring his hide with sundry applications of a whip, and his ears with frequent repetitions of the scaring admonition, "Ware fowl," "Fowl—fowl—fowl." Whenever you afterwards catch him watching poultry, be sure to rate him.
FOOTNOTES:
[44] I am glad to say I have never had occasion to adopt so severe a remedy as the following; but I have heard of an otherwise incorrigible taste for blood being cured by a partridge pierced transversely with two knitting-pins being adroitly substituted for the fallen bird which the dog had been restrained by a checkcord from bolting. The pins were cut to a length somewhat less than the diameter of its body, and were fixed at right angles to one another. Several slight wires would, I think, have answered better.
[45] And if hares are shot to him, fewest wounded hares.
[46] In the remaining odd case—one out of a hundred—the propensity may be traced to the animal's belonging to a vicious stock—in short, to hereditary instinct.
CHAPTER XIV.
DISTINGUISHING WHISTLES. "BACKING" THE GUN. RETREAT FROM AND RESUMPTION OF POINT. RANGE UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN. HEADING RUNNING BIRDS.
A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG.
[271]. Though you may have only begun to shoot last season, have you not often wished to attract the attention of one of your two dogs, and make him hunt in a particular part of the field, but for fear of alarming the birds, have been unwilling to call out his name, and have felt loath to whistle to him, lest you should bring away at the same time the other dog, who was zealously hunting exactly where you considered him most likely to find birds?
[272]. Again: have the dogs never been hunting close together instead of pursuing distinct beats; and has it not constantly happened, on your whistling with the view to separate them, that both have turned their heads in obedience to the whistle, and both on your signal changed the direction of their beat, but still the two together? And have you not, in despair of ever parting them by merely whistling and signalling, given the lucky birds—apparently in the most handsome manner, as if scorning to take any ungenerous advantage—fair notice of the approach of the guns by shouting out the name of one of the dogs.
[273]. Or, if one dog was attentive to the whistle, did he not gradually learn to disregard it from observing that his companion was never chidden for neglecting to obey it?—and did not such laxity more and more confirm both in habits of disobedience?
[274]. I believe several of my readers will be constrained to answer these questions in the affirmative; and, further, I think their own experience will remind them of many occasions, both on moor and stubble when birds were wild, on which they have wished to attract the notice of a particular dog—perhaps running along a hedge, or pottering over a recent haunt; or hunting down wind towards marked game—by whistling instead of calling out his name, but have been unwilling to do so, lest the other dogs should likewise obey the shrill sound to which all were equally accustomed.
[275]. Now, in breaking young dogs, you could, by using whistles of dissimilar calls, easily avoid the liability of these evils; and by invariably employing a particular whistle for each dog to summon him separately to his food—[29]—each would distinguish his own whistle as surely as every dog knows his own master's whistle, and as hounds learn their names. Dogs not only know their own names, but instantly know by the pronunciation when it is uttered by a stranger. To prevent mistakes, each dog's name might be marked on his own whistle. You might have two whistles, of very different sound, on one short stock. Indeed, one whistle would be sufficient for two dogs, if you invariably sounded the same two or three sharp short notes for one dog, and as invariably gave a sustained note for the other. Nay, the calls could thus be so diversified, that one whistle might be used for even more than two dogs.
But whatever whistle you choose to employ, be sure, both in and out of the field, to sound it softly whenever the dog is near you. Indeed, you would act judiciously to make it a constant rule, wherever he may be, never to whistle louder than is really requisite, otherwise—as I think I before remarked—he will, comparatively speaking, pay little attention to its summons, when, being at a distance, he hears it but faintly.
TO BACK THE GUN.
[276]. In shooting, especially late in the season, you will often mark down a bird, and feel assured that you stand a better chance of getting a shot at it if the dogs cease hunting whilst you approach it. You can teach your dog to do this by holding up your right hand behind you when you mark down a bird, saying at the same time, "Toho," in an earnest, quiet voice, and carrying your gun as if you were prepared to shoot. He will soon begin, I really must say it to back you,—for he actually will be backing you, ludicrous as the expression may sound. After a few times he will do so on the signal, without your speaking at all; and he will be as pleased, as excited, and as stanch, as if he were backing an old dog. Making him "drop" will not effect your object, for, besides that it in no way increases his intelligence, you may wish him to follow at a respectful distance, while you are stealing along the banks of some stream, &c. Ere long he will become as sensible as yourself that any noise would alarm the birds, and you will soon see him picking his steps to avoid the crisp leaves, lest their rustling should betray him. I have even heard of a dog whose admirable caution occasionally led him, when satisfied that his point was observed, to crawl behind a bush, or some other shelter, to screen himself from the notice of the birds.
[277]. The acquisition of this accomplishment—and it is easily taught to a young dog previously made steady in backing another—it should not be attempted before—will often secure you a duck, or other wary bird, which the dog would otherwise, almost to a certainty, spring out of gun-shot. If you should "toho" a hare, and wish to kill one, you will have an excellent opportunity of practising this lesson.
[278]. In America there is a singular duck, called, from its often alighting on trees, the Wood-duck. I have killed some of these beautiful, fast-flying birds, while they were seated on logs overhanging the water, which I could not have approached within gun-shot had the dog not properly backed the gun when signalled to, and cautiously crept after me, still remaining far in the rear.
TO RETREAT FROM A POINT AND RESUME IT.
[279]. Amidst coppices, osiers, or broom—indeed, some times on a rough moor—you will occasionally lose sight of a dog, and yet be unwilling to call him, feeling assured that he is somewhere steadily pointing; and being vexatiously certain that, when he hears your whistle, he will either leave his point, not subsequently to resume it, or—which is far more probable—amuse himself by raising the game before he joins you. There are moments when you would give guineas if he would retreat from his point, come to you on your whistling, lead you towards the bird, and there resume his point.
[280]. This accomplishment—and in many places abroad its value is almost inappreciable—can be taught him, if he is under great command, by your occasionally bringing him in to your heel from a point when he is within sight and near you, and again putting him on his point. You will begin your instruction in this accomplishment when the dog is pointing quite close to you. On subsequent occasions, you can gradually increase the distance, until you arrive at such perfection that you can let him be out of sight when you call him. When he is first allowed to be out of your sight, he ought not to be far from you.
[281]. You may, for a moment, think that what is here recommended contradicts the axiom laid down in [255]; but it is there said, that nothing ought to make a dog "voluntarily" leave his point. Indeed, the possession of this accomplishment, so far from being productive of any harm, greatly awakens a dog's intelligence, and makes him perceive, more clearly than ever, that the sole object for which he is taken to the field is to obtain shots for the gun that accompanies him. When he is pointing on your side of a thick hedge, it will make him understand why you call him off;—take him down wind, and direct him to jump the fence: he will at once go to the bird, and, on your encouraging him, force it to rise on your side.
[282]. You will practise this lesson, however, with great caution, and not before his education is nearly completed, lest he imagine that you do not wish him always to remain stanch to his point. Indeed, if you are precipitate, or injudicious, you may make him blink his game.
[283]. After a little experience, he will very likely some day satisfactorily prove his consciousness of your object, by voluntarily coming out of thick cover to show you where he is, and again going in and resuming his point.
TO HUNT REGULARLY FROM LEEWARD TO WINDWARD WITHOUT THE GUN.
[284]. In paragraph [147] I observed, that when you are obliged, as occasionally must be the case, to enter a field to windward with your pupil, you ought to go down to the leeward side of it, keeping him close to your heels, before you commence to hunt. After undeviatingly pursuing this plan for some time, you can, before you come quite to the bottom of the field, send him ahead—by the underhand bowler's swing of the right-hand, IV. of [119],—and, when he has reached the bottom, signal to him to hunt to the right—or left. He will be so habituated to work under your eye—[130]—that you will find it necessary to walk backwards—up the middle of the field,—while instructing him. As he becomes, by degrees, confirmed in this lesson, you can sooner and sooner send him ahead—from your heel—but increase the distances very gradually,—until at length he will be so far perfected, that you may venture to send him down wind to the extremity of the field—before he commences beating,—while you remain quietly at the top awaiting his return, until he shall have hunted the whole ground, as systematically and carefully as if you had accompanied him from the bottom. By this method you will teach him, on his gaining more experience, invariably to run to leeward, and hunt up to windward—crossing and recrossing the wind—whatever part of a field you and he may enter. What a glorious consummation! and it can be attained, but only by great patience and perseverance. The least reflection, however, will show you that you should not attempt it until the dog is perfected in his range.
[285]. A careful dog, thus practised, will seldom spring birds, however directly he may be running down wind. He will pull up at the faintest indication of a scent, being at all times anxiously on the look-out for the coveted aroma.
[286]. Not only to the idle or tired sportsman would it be a great benefit to have a field thus beaten, but the keenest and most indefatigable shot would experience its advantages in the cold and windy weather customary in November, when the tameness of partridge-shooting cannot be much complained of; for the birds being then ever ready to take wing, surely the best chance, by fair means, of getting near them would be to intercept them between the dog and yourself.
[287]. Here the consideration naturally arises, whether dogs could not be taught—when hunting in the ordinary manner with the gun in the rear—
TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.
Certainly it could be done. There have been many instances of old dogs spontaneously galloping off, and placing themselves on the other side of the covey—which they had pointed—as soon as they perceived that it was on the run,—and by good instruction you could develope or rather excite, that exercise of sagacity.
[288]. If dogs are taught to "hunt from leeward to windward without the gun," they become habituated to seeing game intercepted between themselves and their masters,—and then their spontaneously heading running birds—though undeniably evincing great intelligence—would not be very remarkable. They would but reverse matters by placing themselves to windward of the birds while the gun was to leeward. This shows that the acquisition of that accomplishment would be a great step towards securing a knowledge of the one we are now considering. Indeed there seems to be a mutual relation between these two refinements in education, for the possession of either would greatly conduce to the attainment of the other.
[289]. This accomplishment—and hardly any can be considered more useful—is not so difficult to teach an intelligent dog as one might at first imagine; it is but to lift him, and make him act on a larger scale, much in the manner described in [212] and [296]. Like, however, everything else in canine education—indeed, in all education—it must be effected gradually; nor should it be commenced before the dog has had a season's steadying, then practise him in heading every wounded bird, and endeavor to make him do so at increased distances. Whenever, also, he comes upon the "heel" of a covey which is to leeward of him—instead of letting him "foot" it—oblige him to quit the scent and take a circuit—sinking the wind—so as to place himself to leeward of birds. He will thereby head the covey, and you will have every reason to hope that after a time his own observation and intellect will show him the advantage of thus intercepting birds and stopping them when they are on the run, whether the manœuvre places him to leeward or to windward of them.
[290]. If you could succeed in teaching but one of your dogs thus to take a wide sweep when he is ordered, and head a running covey before it gets to the extremity of the field—while the other dogs remain near you—you would be amply rewarded for months of extra trouble in training, by obtaining shots on days when good sportsmen, with fair average dogs, would hardly pull a trigger. And why should you not? Success would be next to certain if you could as readily place your dog exactly where you wish, as shepherds do their collies. And whose fault will it be if you cannot? Clearly not your dog's, for he is as capable of receiving instruction as the shepherd's.
[291]. Manifestly it would be worth while to take great pains to teach this accomplishment, for in all countries it would prove a most killing one when birds become wild; and it would be found particularly useful wherever the red-legged partridge abounds,—which birds you will find do not lie badly when the coveys are, by any means, well headed and completely broken. But there are other accomplishments nearly as useful as those already detailed; the description of them, however, we will reserve for a separate Chapter.
CHAPTER XV.
SETTER TO RETRIEVE. BLOODHOUNDS. RETRIEVERS TO "BEAT." WOUNDED WILD FOWL RETRIEVED FIRST.
SETTER TO RETRIEVE.
[292]. Undeniably there is some value in the extra number of shots obtained by means of highly-broken dogs; and nearly as undeniable is it that no man, who is not over-rich, will term that teaching superfluous which enables him to secure in one dog the services of two. Now, I take it for granted—as I cannot suppose you are willing to lose many head of killed game—that you would be glad to be always accompanied in the field by a dog that retrieves. Unless you have such a companion, there will be but little chance of your often securing a slightly winged bird in turnips. Indeed, in all rough shooting, the services of a dog so trained are desirable to prevent many an unfortunate hare and rabbit from getting away to die a painful, lingering death; and yet, if the possession of a large kennel is ever likely to prove half as inconvenient to you as it would to me, you would do well, according to my idea of the matter, to dispense with a regular retriever, provided you have a highly-broken setter who retrieves well.
[293]. I say setter rather than pointer, not on account of his more affectionate, and perhaps more docile disposition—for certainly he is less liable to sulk under punishment,—but because, thanks to his long coat, he will be able to work in any cover, and that from nature he "roads" quicker.
I must, however, plead guilty—for many good sportsmen will think I evince bad taste—to a predilection for setters—meaning always cautious setters—a partiality, perhaps, attributable to having shot more over wild, uncertain ground than in well-stocked preserves. Doubtless, in a very inclosed country, where game is abundant, pointers are preferable, far preferable,—more especially should there be a scarcity of water; but for severe and fast work, and as a servant of all work, there is nothing, I humbly conceive, like the setter. He may be, and generally is, the more difficult to break; but, when success has crowned your efforts, what a noble, enduring, sociable, attached animal you possess. I greatly, too, admire his long, stealthy, blood-like action,—for I am not speaking of the large heavy sort before which in old days whole coveys used to be netted,—and the animated waving of his stern, so strongly indicative of high breeding; though strange to say, in gracefulness of carriage, the fox, when hunting, and actually on game, far excels him. But we are again getting astray beyond our proper limits; let us keep to the subject of dog-breaking.
[294]. As it will be your endeavor, during your pupil's first season, to make him thoroughly stanch and steady, I cannot advise you, as a general rule—liable, of course, to many exceptions—one of which is named in [219]—to let him retrieve—by retrieve I always mean fetch—until the following year. There is another advantage in the delay. His sagacity will have shown him that the design of every shot is to bag the game—when, therefore, he has once been permitted to pick up a bird, he will be desirous of carrying it immediately to you, and will resist the temptation to loiter with it, mouthing and spoiling it; and however keenly he may have heretofore "sought dead," he will henceforth search with redoubled zeal, from the delight he will experience in being permitted to carry his game. Moreover, the season's shooting, without lifting, will have so thoroughly confirmed him in the "down charge," that the increased[47] inclination to bolt off in search of a falling bird will be successfully resisted. If he has been taught while young to "fetch"—[92], [94], &c.,—he will be so anxious to take the birds to you, that instead of there being any difficulty in teaching him this accomplishment, you will often, during his first season, have to restrain him from lifting when he is "pointing dead." The least encouragement will make him gladly pick up the birds, and give them, as he ought, to no one but yourself.
[295]. You need hardly be cautioned not to let more than one dog retrieve the same bird. With more dogs than one the bird would, almost to a certainty, be torn; and if a dog once becomes sensible of the enjoyment he would derive in pulling out the feathers of a bird, you will find it difficult to make him deliver it up before he has in some way disfigured it. 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.
[296]. 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 that 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 [98].
[297]. 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 vast, 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,
[298]. In North America I once saw, lying on the ground, three snipe, 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.[48] 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 judgment.
[299]. Some good sportsmen maintain that a retrieving setter—or pointer—on finding a dead bird ought to point it until desired 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 [298].
[300]. 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.
FOOTNOTES:
[47] "Increased:" the gratification of carrying being far greater than that of merely "pointing dead."
[48] I retain this anecdote because every one of the occurrences related has happened to myself. The first many times in the United States; the second once in the United States when my dog Chavee pointed a fresh woodcock with a dead bird in his mouth, and a winged bird under his fore paw; the last, many times in England over an old Russian setter, Charm.—H.W.H.
REGULAR RETRIEVER TO BEAT.
[301]. 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 for general shooting if one of your setting dogs will retrieve well. 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[49]—particularly when you employ beaters[50]—but even then he need not be the idle rascal 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—[292]—make one dog perform the work of two; and, besides its evident advantage in thick cover, if he accompany you in your every-day 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.
FOOTNOTES:
[49] Of course, a regular retriever is absolutely necessary when a team of spaniels is hunted, none of which are accustomed to retrieve.
[50] Regular retrievers are never used in America except on the Chesapeake bay for fowl-shooting.—H.W.H.
WATER RETRIEVERS—OR WATER SPANIELS—TO RETRIEVE WOUNDED BEFORE PICKING UP DEAD WILD FOWL.
[302]. 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 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 [81 to 85]. 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 neighborhood where you have good opportunities of following it, you should regard this accomplishment as a necessary part of your spaniel's education.
[303]. 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.
[304]. It would be quite unreasonable to expect a regular breaker—"mark" I do not say your game-keeper—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.
[305]. 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.
[306]. 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,[51] 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.
[307]. 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 vigorously 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 labor 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 labor 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.
[308]. 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.
[309]. 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.
[310]. 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.
FOOTNOTES:
[51] Twice a day he should be allowed to run out, that he may not be compelled to adopt habits wholly opposed to his natural propensities. If he has acquired the disagreeable trick of howling when shut up, put a muzzle on him.
CONCLUSION.
[311]. 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.
[312]. 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: 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.
[313]. 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.
[314]. I dare not ask for the same favor 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, endeavor to persuade their employers that the finished education which I have described is useless, or quite unattainable, without a great sacrifice of time; 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.
[315]. 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 represented 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.
W.N.H.
United Service Club,
Pall Mall.
EDITOR'S NOTE.
In section [299], page [643], Col. Hutchinson argues against a retrieving Pointer or Setter, pointing a dead bird when ordered "find," and not lifting it until ordered to "fetch." This is the single rule of breaking in which I wholly differ from the Colonel; but here I differ so widely, that I would not own a dog which did not point until ordered to "fetch;" and I consider that one which "fetches" without pointing, when simply ordered to "find," is worthless.
Col. Hutchinson argues that there is a difference in the scent of a wounded and an unwounded bird, which enables a dog certainly to discriminate between the two, so that he may be trusted to point all the live birds he may meet in the way to find his dead bird, and yet to rush upon the latter and pick him up without making any pause. On the other hand, he argues as if there were no difference in the scent of the two, when he says that if the dog be taught to point until ordered to "fetch," and chance to point a live bird before finding the dead, he will flush the live bird on being ordered to "fetch" the dead. I admit that there is a difference of scent at all times to the best nosed dogs, but very faint, even to the best, in bad scenting weather; but that difference will more easily make the dog refuse to flush a live bird, if he do point before fetching, than make him pause to point a live one, if allowed to rush in upon dead ones. The only rule that will keep a dog always up to his business is, that he shall always "point" every game bird or animal he comes upon, dead or living, and always "drop," when it runs or rises, whether a shot be fired or not. I have always shot over dogs broken to point before fetching. I have often been deceived in supposing a fresh bird newly pointed to be the killed one, but have always found my dogs to hesitate so distinctly, before obeying the order to "fetch," as to make it evident that I was in error, and allow me to correct it.
For the better comprehension of the above admirable treatise on breaking, I wish to add, for the benefit of the American sportsmen, that, wherever Col. Hutchinson speaks of the partridge, it is the English bird which he intends, which, in its habits, is closely analogous to our quail; and that all his precepts as to breaking on partridge hold good precisely for the quail with us. In the same way all his precepts for grouse-shooting apply, letter for letter, to our prairie-fowl-shooting; and his precepts for pheasant-shooting to the hunting and shooting of our ruffed grouse, called in the northern states the partridge, and in the southern and western the pheasant. When he speaks of the rabbit as distinct from the hare, he alludes to a European animal which does not exist in America, the original stock of the tame rabbit, which has the habit of burrowing in the ground and dwelling in great communities, known as warrens. We have two kinds of hare, the small one commonly known as the rabbit, and the large Canadian hare, which turns white in winter; but no genuine rabbit. Hutchinson's rules as to breaking, in regard to the English hares and rabbits, hold good of both our varieties.
I will only say farther, that when he speaks of shooting in turnips or potatoes, we may apply his rules to any tall-growing vegetable covert, such as clover, rag weed, wild meadow-grass, or the like, those crops not being so extensively cultivated with us as to be haunted in general by game. Similarly, when he mentions breaking spaniels to gorse, we may substitute hollies, black-brush, cat-briers, and any other thorny covert common in any section of the country; but, in fact, no especial breaking is needed with us, as we have no brake which exactly compares with furze. H.W.H.
INDEX.
A.
Abscess, about the tail, [283], [284].
treatment of, [284]
in the flap of the ear, [427].
treatment of, ib.
Accomplishments or Refinements—
distinguishing dog whistles, [629].
dog to back the gun, [630].
to head running birds, [635].
to hunt without gun, [633].
to retreat and resume point, [632].
regular retrievers to beat, [644].
setter to retrieve, [638].
water retriever to fetch cripples, [645].
Action of physic on dogs, [107].
Acute purgation, [263].
treatment of, [264].
rheumatism, [274].
treatment of, [276].
Administration of medicine, [106].
Advice to practitioners, [80].
Affection an incentive, [565].
After-discharge, [394].
Age for education, [470], [495], [527].
Aids to promote labor, [376].
Assistance, when to be afforded during pupping, [360].
Asthma, [218].
treatment of, [220].
Attention, necessary, for the sucking bitch, [400].
necessary, to the teeth of the dog, [183].
Author's cause of writing, [653].
Avoid having a battle with a dog, [82].
Axioms, [576], [618].
B.
Back, turned brings dog away, [557].
Backing, how taught, [614], [615].
initiatory lesson in, [488].
the gun, [630].
Battle, avoid having one with a dog, [82].
Beagles, [21].
Beat, a range, taught, [527], [529], [538], [541], [544].
bad, hard to cure, [581].
Beat, good, difficult but invaluable, [548]
Herbert's opinion, [560].
without gun, [633].
of five or six dogs, [562].
of four dogs, [561].
of three dogs, [560].
of two dogs, [558].
taught following dog, [549].
Beef-tea, how to make, [97].
Beckon, why useful signal, [482].
and "Heel" differ, [485].
Bitch, in use, [24].
in pup, [26].
Bells put on dogs, [496].
Best dogs err, concise hints, [623].
Bird, dead, loss of discourages dog, [592]
dead, seized and torn by dog, [597].
shot on ground steadies dog, [610].
shot, search for, [570], [589], [591], [593], [597], [641].
shot, signal heel, [573].
winged, shoot on ground, [591].
Birds, lie well, dog winding them, [547].
wild, intercepted, [635], [636].
wounded, scent differs, [641].
wounded, first retrieved, [645].
wounded, make for covey, [641].
wounded, found evening, [595].
wounded, the search for, [570].
wounded, observed by dog, [518].
Black too conspicuous a color, [508].
Blacksmith shoeing kicker, [494].
Blinking dead bird, [571].
from punishment, [611].
initiatory lessons prevent, [471].
Bones of the dog not rightly placed in the skeleton at the London Veterinary College, [109].
stones and bricks not good for dogs, [185].
when large, do not injure dogs, [91].
Boots, to render waterproof, [57].
Bowel diseases, [56], [246].
Brace of dogs sufficient, if good, [137].
Breaking of young dogs, [29].
Break in dogs yourself, [464].
Breaker, qualifications required, [466].
one better than two, [470].
Breaker, hunt too many, [475], [620].
idle, dislike bold dogs, [554].
Breaking fence prevented, [556].
Breeding in-and-in bad, [579].
Breeding, [15], [21], [25].
Bronchocele, [148].
treatment of, [199].
Bruises, remedy for, [55].
Bull-dogs, remarks upon, [402].
C.
Cancer of the scrotum, [319].
of the teats, [408].
of the vagina, [344].
Canker, within and without the ear, [53], [54], [419].
causes, ib.
external, [421].
treatment of, [423].
internal, [424].
former accounts of, ib.
treatment of, [423].
of the mouth, [189].
treatment of, [190].
Capped hock or elbow, [452].
treatment for, [453].
Care, necessary for the pups, [378].
required after pupping, [391].
signal for, [484].
Carrots for horses, [469].
Carrying, how taught, [510].
Carts, dog, [442].
Cases, details of various, [61]
Castor oil, [116].
Castration, [323].
Cataract, [429].
causes of, [430].
Catheter, passing of the, [329], [377].
Caution, taught to fast dogs, [516], [552].
in excess, [583].
cure for, [584].
Cautious and wild dog contrasted, [551].
dog rarely too fast, [551].
Chain better than cord, [647].
Check cord, [489], [490], [581], [588].
spike to, [476], [580], [609].
Chemists to be avoided as doctors for dogs, [196].
Choice of a male, [347].
Chronic diarrhœa, [265].
treatment of, [266].
Chronic hepatitis, [221].
symptoms of, [222].
treatment of, [225].
Circle wide when heading dog, [569].
Claws, [437].
to cut, [438].
dew, [437].
falling off of the, [439].
sinuses up the, [440].
Clean, to, the dog's teeth, [186].
Clumber spaniels, [502].
Cock shooting, [482].
Cocker, the, [20].
Cold or coriza, [209].
Colic, [252].
symptoms of, [258].
treatment of, [255].
Collar and chain, [102].
a light one on dog, [565].
Colors for concealment, [508].
Commands, given in a low tone, [473].
understood before seeing game, [471].
Comb and brush, [101].
Companion, dog to be yours, [473].
initiatory lessons with, [487], [488].
Condition, [42].
Confidence of the dog, how to gain, [82].
Consistency necessary, [466], [578].
Coolness recommended, [578].
Costiveness, [247].
treatment of, [250].
Cough, [202].
treatment of, [203].
Couple to older dog, [479].
Couples, accustomed to, [487].
Courage, created, [530], [614].
Covert, pointers in, [506].
Cripples, first retrieved, [645].
Crochet, [384].
D.
Danger of domestic remedies, [77].
Dead bird, blinking of, [571].
lifted by you, error of, [511].
loss of, discourages dog, [592].
rushing into, [597], [622].
search for, [626], [647], [649].
search for, with two dogs, [641].
the first killed, [569].
to be pointed, [571].
but not by retrieving pointer, &c., [643].
torn by dog, [597].
Dead, initiatory lesson in, [473], [480].
Death of unborn pups, sign of, [383].
Dew-claws, [437].
Diarrhœa, [261].
Digestive discharge, [313].
symptoms of, [314].
treatment of, [316].
Diseases dependent on internal organs, [240].
of the limbs, [437].
Distance, between parallels, [546].
dog's knowledge of, [582].
Distemper, [46], [58], [120].
brain not subject to disease in, [138].
chorea in, [145].
disposition of dogs to gnaw their bodies in, [143].
dogs may have the disease many times, [135].
the dogs that most escape its attacks, [126].
Distemper, earliest symptoms of, [126].
eruption in, [142].
exercise and food influence the disorder, [126].
eyes in, [132].
fainting fits in, [149].
fearful cries in, [137].
fits in, [140].
its causes undiscovered, [124].
importance of diet in, [152].
liver involved in, [134].
lungs diseased in, [133].
morbid appetite during the fits in, [167].
ordinary treatment for, [121].
paralysis of the hind legs in, [145].
periods when it attacks animals, [125].
popular remedies for, [122].
resembles continued fever, [123].
skin peels after an attack of, [149].
stomach and intestinal diseases in, [135].
symptoms when it abates, [132].
treatment for, [154].
tumours in, [144].
very treacherous, [130].
when the disease is established, [127].
Distribution of the dog, [73].
Diving, how taught, [513].
Dog-carts, [442].
Dog's tooth-brush, [188].
Dogs, are generally misunderstood, [76].
are very intelligent, [103].
shape of, [639].
slow beating, more than faster, [503].
wildest, most energetic, [489], [531].
Down, see "[Drop]."
charge, dog pointing not to, [618].
initiatory lesson in, [478].
why retrievers should, [521].
"Drop," a better word than "down," [536].
dog, to another dropping, [488].
dog, to game rising, [601].
Initiatory lessons in, [474], [476], [478].
unnatural, "Toho," natural, [476].
Dropsy of the chest, [217].
treatment of, [217].
of the uterus, [345].
of the perinæum, [289].
treatment of, [291].
Duck, wood duck of America, [631].
shooting, in wild rice, [509].
Ducks, wounded, first retrieved, [645].
Dysentery, [261].
E.
Ear, canker within and without, [53], [54], [419].
causes, [420].
torn, [56].
rounding of the dog's, [422].
Ears, not pulled violently, [601].
Eating, dogs have lively sympathies for, [95].
of the young by the mother, [393].
Education, age when commenced, [471].
best conducted by one, [470].
commenced from A B C, [652].
expeditious, economical,489.
Ejection of the eye, [435].
treatment for, [436].
Emetics, [117].
Energy, wildest dogs have most, [489], [531].
Enlargement of the testicle, [335].
treatment of, ib.
Enteritis, [257].
symptoms of, [258].
treatment of, [259].
Ergot of rye not a good uterine excitant to the bitch, [365].
Examination of a dog, how to conduct, [81].
Example, advantageous, [615].
especially to spaniels, [495].
yours, has influence, [569], [622].
Exercise, [42], [90].
on the road, [493].
Experiments, [108].
External canker, [421].
treatment of, [423].
Eye, the, [429].
films over, [56].
ejection of, [435].
treatment for, [436].
F.
Falling off of the claw, [439].
of the vagina, [402].
Fastest dogs not beating most, [502].
walkers not beating most, [564].
Fasting, initiatory lessons in, [469].
Fatigued, dog not hunted when, [557].
Faults, punishment expected for, [614].
Feeding time, lessons at, [479].
pistol fired at, [478].
Feet, [53].
ailments of, [437]-443.
of partridges given to dogs, [642].
Fence, not to be broken, [556].
"ware fence," initiatory lesson in, [486].
Fetching, evil of not, [638].
lessons in, [510], [512].
Fevers, bilious, [55].
Fields, largest beat, [539].
Films over the eyes, [56].
"Find," initiatory lessons, [480], [481].
"Finder" not to advance, [617].
"Finder" retrieves, [641].
Fire, dog to bask before, [558].
First good point, [568].
bird killed, [569].
Fits in the dog, [55], [295].
sucking, [396].
what to do when they occur, [296].
treatment of, [297].
Flap of the ear, abscess in, [427].
treatment of, ib.
Flapper shooting, [647].
Fleas, remedy for, [56].
Flogging, how administered, [598].
reprobated, [468], [611].
"Flown," initiatory lesson, [486].
real, [603].
Fluids, to give, [118].
Food for a diseased dog, [96].
proper for dogs, [40], [90].
Foot-sore, [53], [440].
Footing a scent, [487], [511], [581].
Forceps ought not to be used during parturition, [371].
Form desirable in a bitch for breeding, [349].
Forward initiatory lesson, [481].
"Foul," [239].
Fowls, killing of, the cure, [627].
Fractures, [444].
treatment for, [446].
Fungoid tumours, [340].
G.
Gain, to, the confidence of a dog, [82].
Game book, form of, [68].
lies too close in turnips, [551].
not shown too soon to dog, [471], [588].
spring toward gun, [496], [508].
Gastritis, [233].
what dogs most liable to, [234].
treatment of, [236].
Generative organs, female, [337].
male, [313].
Give, to, solids, [111].
fluids [113].
Glans, swelling of, [327].
Gone, initiatory lesson, [486].
real, [603].
Gorse, spaniels to be habituated to, [495].
Greyhounds, food for, in training, [56].
Growths, morbid, in the bitch, [338].
Gun, dog to back the, [630].
first over fence, not dog, [556].
game flushed toward the, [496], [508], [603].
Guns, a few words on, [41].
to preserve the barrels from rust of salt water, [57].
water-proofing for the locks, [58].
Gutta Serena, [431].
causes, ib.
H.
Hæmaturia, [326].
Hand, bird delivered into,
[511].
Hand, rewards taken from, [478].
Hare, chase of, checked, [607], [608].
heavy, tempts dog to drop, [519].
killed in form, steadies dog, [610].
scent of strong, [607].
shooting of condemned, [604].
wounded, dog may pursue, [610].
Haste, when imperative, during pupping, [383].
Heading birds, [635].
dog, making too stanch, [583].
circle wide, [509].
Heat, [55], [353].
Hedge, farthest side hunted, [496].
rows not to be hunted, [542].
Heel, signal to, on killing, [573], [577].
signal to, [482], [485].
Hepatitis, [221].
chronic, ib.
symptoms of, [223].
treatment of, [225].
Herbert's Field Sports in the United States, [560].
Hereditary instincts, [525], [597].
Horses how taught at Astley's, [468].
fed on firing, [478].
Hot bath kills during parturition, [364].
I.
Imitative, dogs are, [568].
In-and-in breeding injudicious, [579].
Independence imparted, [623].
Indigestion, [237], [282].
symptoms of, [228].
treatment of, [229].
Inflammation of the bowels, [56].
of the lungs, [211].
treatment of, [215].
Initiatory lessons important, [469], [471], [480], [529], [532].
Injuries to the tongue, [195].
treatment of, ib.
Instrument, parturition, recommended, [381].
Instruments, certain, when lawful to employ them in pupping, [372].
as a rule deadly in parturition, [368].
Internal canker, [424].
former accounts of, ib.
treatment for, [425].
Intestines, peculiarity of, [246].
Introsusception, [268].
Inversion of the womb, [404].
K.
Kennel, the, [44].
dog ought to be in his, [646].
Killing fowls, the remedy, [627].
sheep, cure attempted, [625].
Kind of dogs alluded to in this book, [89].
L.
Labor pains, false, [361].
Large bone may be given to dogs, [91].
Larynx, [201].
Leeward, beat from, [555].
Left hand signals "down charge," [476].
less than right, [535].
side of dog, keep on, [583].
signal for dog to go on the, [481].
Lessons, initiatory, reasonable, [469], [471], [488], [529].
walking in the fields, [527].
Lice, [27], [55], [105].
Lifting a dog, [591], [636], [642].
Limbs, diseases of the, [437].
Liver, a mild laxative to dogs, [93].
hard-boiled, [519].
Lungs, inflammation of, [211].
treatment of, [215].
Luxuries hurt the teeth of dogs, [182].
M.
Make beef-tea, how to, [97].
Mange, a general term only, [410].
a second description of, [412].
treatment for, [413].
true, ib.
treatment for, ib.
another form, [414].
treatment for, [51], [415].
a fourth sort, [417].
treatment for, ib.
a fifth kind, ib.
treatment for, ib.
Markers used with spaniels, [505].
Medicine, how to administer, [50], [106].
generally alluded to, [119].
Milk, how to draw from a bitch, [401].
Morbid growths in the bitch, [338].
Mouth, how to hold open, [111].
teeth, tongue, gullet, &c., [179].
canker of the, [189].
treatment of, [190].
Mute spaniels, old sportsmen prefer, [506].
Muzzle, to, the dog with tape for operations, [428].
N.
Names ending in "O" dissimilar, [536].
Nervous diseases, [295].
system, [299].
Nipping the teeth off, [193].
"No," Better word than "ware," [487].
Noise spoils sport, [466], [473], [539].
Nose carried high, [485], [547].
Nosing allowed, [593].
Number of pups a bitch can rear, [26], [395].
Numerous pretenders to cure the dog's diseases, [76].
O.
Œstrum, [353].
Old dog allowed liberties, [648].
range taught with, [549].
"On," initiatory lesson in, [473], [474].
Opening pills, [116].
Operations, [450].
mode of performing, [451].
Ophthalmia, simple, [432].
symptoms of, ib.
treatment for, [433].
Original of the dog inquired after, [73].
P.
Parallels, distance between, [546], [547].
Paralysis, [270].
treatment of, [273].
of the tongue, [193].
Parturition, [346].
what is necessary at, [359].
Passing the catheter, [330].
Patience enjoined, [568].
required at a pupping, [376].
Peculiarity of the intestines, [246].
Peg or spike on a check-cord, [580], [609].
Perseverance and range attained, [649].
in seeking taught, [593].
Perinæum, dropsy of, [345].
Physic, how to administer, [50], [106].
action of, on dogs, [107].
Piles, [278].
treatment of, [281].
Pills, opening, [116].
Pincushion, retrievers fetch, [513].
Pistol, horse fed at discharge of, [478].
Point, dead, [570].
left and resumed, [633].
not quitted for down charge, [576], [618].
the first good one, [568].
Pointers, [16], [28].
out of place in strong cover, [506].
points, [638].
Pointing, dog not soon, [528], [580], [589].
dog when not to down, [618].
origin of, [476].
Poisoning, what to do in case of, [55].
Polypus, [341].
how to recognise, [342].
Pot-hunting sportsmen ruin dogs, [621].
Preparatory lessons, important, [469], [471], [529], [522], [563].
Presentations, false, rare in the bitch, [375].
Pretenders are numerous in the cure of canine diseases, [76].
Protrusion of the rectum, [287].
treatment of, ib.
Punishment avoided by lessons, [471].
causes blinking, [611].
decreases, whip carried, [611].
not shunned by dogs, [614].
how administered, [598].
making dogs too stanch, [583].
not inflicted on suspicion, [601].
Punishment, reprobated, [468], [611].
Pupping, [346].
Pups, when they may be felt in the mother, [356].
when broken difficult to bring away, [379].
feeding and weaning, [27], [397].
Purchasers of dogs, hints to, [536].
Purgation, acute, [263].
treatment of, [264].
Purgatives, [53], [115].
Puzzle-peg saved by the word "up," [484].
"Puzzling" with nose to ground, [547].
Q.
Quail, large in Canada, [578].
Qualities expected in good dog, [468].
Quarter ground, see [Beat].
Quartering, how taught, [33].
R.
Rabbit-shooting reprobated, [604].
Rabies, [299].
"Range," see [Beat].
Ranging, how taught, [30].
Receipts, various, [50].
See the names of diseases for which remedies are sought.
Rectum, [278].
protrusion of, [287].
treatment of, ib.
Refinements, see [Accomplishments].
Regularity essential in the feeding of dogs, [94].
Relays desirable, not a pack, [563].
Remedies, domestic, the danger of, [77].
Requisites in a dog, [467].
in a breaker, [466].
Respiratory organs, [200].
Retention of urine, [328].
Retriever, the, [21].
bit for one that mouths, [521].
evil of assisting, [519].
footing scent, lesson in, [517].
for water, qualities in, [508].
made whipper in, [492].
observes struck bird, [518].
to "down charge," or not, [521].
Retrievers, shape, &c. of, [523].
to beat, [644].
to fetch, taught, [514].
to pursue faster, [521].
water, to fetch cripples first, [645].
how fed, [524].
Retrieving, not taught first season, [640].
pointers or setters not to point dead, [643], [654].
setters not pointers, [639].
Rewards always given, [478], [481].
Rheumatism, [274].
acute, ib.
treatment of, [276].
Rice, wild lakes, duck-shooting in [509].
Right, the signal to go toward, [482].
hand for "toho" and "drop," [476].
signals more than left, [536].
Rounding dogs' ears, [422].
Rope to dog, [647].
Running bird, firing at, [590].
Rushing in to "dead" cured, [622].
S.
Saint Vitus's dance, [240].
symptoms of, [241].
treatment of, [242].
Scent bad in calm or gale, [540].
differently recognized by pointers or setters, [541].
of birds not left for hare, [607].
"footing," an initiatory lesson in, [485].
of wounded and unwounded birds differs, [641].
Scrotum, cancer of the, [319].
Search, "dead," [570].
with two dogs, [641].
for wounded bird to leeward, [589].
to windward, [591].
Seeking dead, how taught, [593].
Self-hunting, prevent, [647].
Servant useful in the field, [580].
Seton, to make a, [54].
Setter, the, [18], [25], [28].
the Russian, [10].
to retrieve, [638].
Setters crouch more than pointers, [475].
for covert shooting, [506].
points in, [639].
Shoes, to render waterproof, [57].
Shooting excellence in breaker, not necessary, [465].
Shot-belt on spaniels and setters, [496], [602].
Shy birds to be intercepted, [582], [635], [636].
Sight, dog not to be out of, [625].
Sign when parturition is concluded, [390].
Silence enjoined, [467], [539].
Simple ophthalmia, [432].
symptoms of, ib.
treatment for, [433].
Single-handed, shot to, [623].
Sinuses up the claws, [440].
Skin diseases, [410].
Slow dog associate for young one, [615].
hunting more than fast one, [564].
Snake, bite of a, [57].
Snipes, three lifted in succession, [642].
Snoring, [207].
Snorting, ib.
Spaniel, [20].
Spaniels, age when shown game, [495].
hunted in gorse, ib.
mute preferred, [504].
numbers for a team, [500], [508].
Spaniels, requisites in, [498].
shot-belt on wildest, [494].
that pointed, [498].
water, how broken in, [508].
Spike-collar, [586].
fastened to check-cord, [580], [609].
Sportsmen to break dogs, [464].
Spring, dogs broken in, [537].
Springing the other birds after pointing one, [575].
Staggers, [55].
Stanch, made too by heading, [583].
Stone, error of retrieving with, [512].
in the bladder, [325].
Stoppage, [268].
Strain, remedy for, [54].
Strangulation, [267].
Substances fit for sick dogs, [96].
Summary imparted by lessons, [532].
Swelling of the glans, [327].
T.
Tape, to make a muzzle of, for operations, [428].
Tapes, their use objected to when giving medicine, [114].
Teats, swelling, [56].
cancer of the, [408].
Teeth of the dog are hurt by luxuries, [182].
to clean the dog's, [188].
nipping off the, [193].
Temperament of the dog, [79].
Temper, hereditary, [525].
in breaker necessary, [466].
Temporary teeth, how to extract them, [184].
Testicle, the absence of, [333].
enlargement of, [335].
treatment of, ib.
Thorns, to extract, [51].
Time proper for putting to the dog, [355].
given determines education, [463].
saved by initiatory lessons, [488].
Timidity cured, [530], [612], [613].
"Toho," first good one in the field, [568].
initiatory lessons in, [473], [474], [476].
Tongue, paralysis, [193].
injuries to, [195].
treatment of, ib.
Tooth-brush, [188]
To tell when the bitch is in pup, [357].
Tranquillity, how to ascertain when the dog has recovered it, [83].
Tumours, fungoid, [340].
Turning back brings dog away, [577].
Two dogs, beat of, [558], [559].
U.
"Up," signal for, initiatory lesson, [484].
Uterus, dropsy of, [345].
form of the, [372].
V.
Vagina, cancer of the, [344].
falling of the, [402].
Vermin, [104].
W.
Walkers, fastest, not beating most, [564].
Ware not so good a word as "No," [487].
Warmth necessary for dog, [318].
Water-brash, [231].
spaniels, [507].
retrievers, how broken, [508].
observe struck bird, [518].
qualities in, [508].
dog taught to plunge in, [512].
Whip carried saves punishment, [611].
to crack loudly, [548].
Whistle, low, [473], [630].
dissimilar notes on one, [629].
distinguishing for each dog, [628].
inattentive to, how to punish, [548].
initiatory lesson in, [473].
Whistling, to animate, injudicious, [466], [539].
White too conspicuous a color, [508].
Wild birds intercepted, [582], [635], [636].
Wild dog compared with cautious, [551].
dogs turning out best, [553].
Wild fowl, wounded, retrieved first, [645]
reconnoitred with glass, [508].
Winged birds, see [Bird winged].
Womb, shape of, [372]
inversion of, [404].
treatment for, [405]
Worming, [192].
Worms, [51].
Wounds, [53].
Wounded birds, see [Bird wounded].
Y.
Youth, game followed in, liked, [498].
occupation followed in, liked [647].
Transcriber's notes
The following typographical errors have been corrected as noted below.
Page [57] headed corrected to healed
Page [66] Rhubard corrected to Rhubarb
Page [87] membrance corrected to membrane
Page [90] greese corrected to grease
Page [243] vonica corrected to vomica
Page [394] pleaseed corrected to pleased
Page [457] SHOOITNG corrected to SHOOTING
Page [658] Crotchet corrected to Crochet
Page [660] Hane corrected to Hand
Errors in Table of contents and List of Illustration descriptions have not been corrected.