[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?