[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.