[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.