“You mean Dobson ran with your grandmother, and together they trailed the assistant.”
“Yes. Dobson kept changing his assistant, so she wouldn’t get familiar with him. He would make him strip off his coat, and run. Then grandmother would smell his coat, the older the coat the higher the smell, and Dobson would run with her, and encourage her to trail him. The assistant used to have other men cross his trail, he would wade in creeks, and walk along fences, but grandmother nearly always got him, even when she had to work out a cold scent.”
“I would like to have seen that fine Lady Gray,” I said enthusiastically.
“I am said to look exactly like her,” said King Harry with a melancholy smile, “but alas! I was stolen when a puppy, and I can do only amateur work at trailing. However, if you just want to see my grandmother, look at me.”
I smiled, and he went on. “Next thing came the taking up of a trail with which grandmother was unacquainted. Dobson had the man who was to be trailed go to an old stable with an earth floor. He would walk about a few minutes, throw down his hat, and leave the place. In ten minutes, Dobson would take grandmother there, keeping every one else out, let her smell the hat, then hunt up the owner.”
“How interesting all this is,” I exclaimed. “I had no idea such pains was taken with the training of bloodhound puppies. I thought the trailing gift came by instinct.”
“Everything that’s worth anything costs trouble,” said King Harry. “Grandmother said as soon as she learned how to take a trail freely and eagerly, she was entered to horse and man trailing.”
“How do they do that?” I enquired.
“The assistant led the horse thirty yards, being right out in front of him, so the horse would be on his trail, then he mounted, rode thirty feet, dismounted, led the horse fifty feet, mounted, rode one hundred feet, dismounted and led.”
“Well,” I said, “no wonder your grandmother became so clever.”