Life in the kennels is far from being devoid of evidence of the finer virtues. The sight of a pack of hounds on their benches, each with his head pillowed on one of his fellows, tells of mutual love and trust, and the sympathy and pity with which one hound will lick a sore place on another are not to be mistaken. On the other hand, there are hatreds and enmities, and there are hounds that can never be trusted together. Something of the old spirit of tribal rule is also shown in the occasional ostracising of some one member of the pack. The hound thus treated as an outcast is not necessarily more stupid or less well inclined than are his judges, so far as can be seen, though I have heard that in one case, at least, the general award of condemnation was justified by unworthy conduct in the field. But, whatever the cause, from the verdict there is no appeal. A hound that has been sentenced by his fellows will have a short life and a bitter one if he does not find another home, for hound justice is rough and demands the death of the accused. In older times the method had its advantages in keeping up the level of the tribal band, for good feeling and good-will among its members were vital to its existence. Nowadays we give the outcast another chance in different surroundings, where the verdict of his former companions is by no means always endorsed. At the same time we may believe that no such verdict is ever given without a cause, with which, could we understand it in all cases, we should be in complete agreement.
IV
“The capacity to understand is as good a proof of vocal intelligence, though in an inferior degree, as the capacity to speak.”
FROM the kennel we will follow the hound into the field. Here he has definite work for which all the events of his life are one long preparation. That he delights in it, no one can doubt who watches him. If indeed there be anything to say against hunting, from the point of view of the fox and the hare, as there certainly is against some of the methods of man used in the chase, to the hound it is pure, unmixed enjoyment. As a lover of animals I hate to think of any unnecessary suffering caused in the hunting field. But when the excitement of the uncertain issue is over, the death, if it comes, is merciful and sudden, and though I have never but once actually seen the end—and then when I was surprised out of power of turning away—I was astounded at the instantaneous despatch of the hunted fox. That every man, and above all every woman, should set their faces sternly against the faintest touch of cruelty, I have no doubt at all. The most brilliant run of the season would be dearly bought if fox and hound were not pitted in fair and open warfare, and every one worthy the name of sportsman should blush to take an unfair advantage of the creature whose wiles it will tax all the intelligence of his followers, human and canine, to unravel.
Our very soul revolts from the tales of cruel maiming of which we have heard a good deal of late. That these are true of the practice of any but a few scattered countries, I do not believe. But, on the other hand, that they undoubtedly occur in some hunts is beyond question. Sport has to be shown; the followers at all costs must be given that for which they have come out. If hounds do not taste blood, they will become slack, and lose their interest in the chase. The hunt servants come from a class of which some members are incapable of understanding the sufferings of a lower order of life than their own. If they realised the agony of the broken or maimed limb with which the quarry is sometimes sent to make his last gallant bid for life, they would no more give the secret wrench that makes their own success assured than would the man whose wider outlook enables him to grasp the depth of suffering inflicted. In saying this, I would not for a moment imply that all, or nearly all, our hunt servants have the callous indifference to pain that such a course implies. On the contrary, the love of their hounds, so plainly shown both in the kennel and in the field, and their own innate love of all animal life, are a sufficient testimony to the humanity of the great body of those who show us sport. As a rule our huntsmen are of a far higher level of intelligence than others of their own class, or they would never have risen to the place they hold. But the danger comes from those who have the mental gifts without the moral background. With these the brilliant execution of their own work is everything; the rights of the lower creatures to humane treatment at their hands are non-existent. And this, as I have said, is because they do not, and cannot from their very nature, enter into the feelings of another order of beings.
But as the huntsman and his underlings are the servants of the Master, the responsibility for unsportsmanlike conduct in the field must ultimately rest with him. Not many, when spoken to on such a matter, will give the callous answer, worthy of a stage of civilisation left long ages behind, that one M. F. H. did: “I don’t care what they do, so long as they show sport, and don’t tell me how they do it.” But that such a view can be held, and that a man of such a type may have those under his orders who will be prompt to take advantage of the implied permission, is a direct danger to hunting, and one against which all true lovers of the sport should be on their guard. A careless master, and still more an indifferent one, may bring discredit on the national pastime that gives health and happiness to thousands of its followers, and causes the fox to be treated throughout his life as a favoured partner in the chase instead of as a noxious beast of prey.
About one thing there is no doubt. Any man or woman who continues to hunt in a country where cruelty is practised makes himself or herself responsible for what is done there. The reason of the cruelty is the desire to show sport, and the only check that can be imposed is that of public opinion. To this, Masters of Hounds and Hunt servants alike are peculiarly sensitive, the reputation of both, and the very livelihood of the latter, depending on it. If then such deeds of cruelty are passed over, or ignored as not being the business of those in whose interests they are done, the future of fox hunting will suffer from a deadly peril. If indeed the hunting field cannot be cleared from the reproach that must cling to it while cruelty in any form is practised, and the fight is not a fair and open one between hounds and their quarry, our many enemies will have a powerful weapon to use against us.
I am indeed far from thinking that Ruskin’s advice to gentlemen “to mow their own fields instead of riding over other people’s” can be followed. The words could only have been penned by one who was at once ignorant of the health-giving joys of the hunting-field, and of the natural sequence of country occupations. But though I lay myself open to the charge of cruelty from those who only see in hunting a relic of a bygone barbarism, and on the other hand may rouse the anger of those whose tastes I share, by pointing to the dark spots that tarnish the glories of our national pastime, I must e’en take a stand with the hounds in hoping for a continuance of their joy in sport, and with the fox in pleading that a fair and open fight is allowed him.