NOSES.
W. E. WATT.
THE Rev. Sam Jones says of a trained bird dog that he once saw in the tall grass jumping up to get signals from his master's hand, moving to the right or left, or lying down without a word spoken: "When I saw the faithfulness of that animal in carrying out the wishes of its human master I was ashamed of myself in the presence of the dog."
A hunting dog is busy with eye and ear. Every nerve seems strained to catch the slightest indication of game. But those who know the dog best know he is mainly occupied with his nose. That delicate organ dilates and adjusts itself constantly to every breath of air.
The bird dog knows of the presence of a game bird before he can see it. He scents its location at long range. He is trained to "stand" when he recognizes the scent. With one paw lifted, his nose and tail stretched out to their greatest reach, he points his master to the spot where the game is to be found. At the word of command he moves cautiously forward towards the bird, and when his master is ready another word causes the dog to "flush" the bird, or make it take wing.
The hound upon the track of fox or deer has remarkable power, not only of following the exact track made by the pursued animal, even when some hours have elapsed since the game passed that way, but his scent is so keen that in many instances he is able to tell, when he comes upon such a track, which way the deer or fox was running. Sometimes the hound "takes the back track," but the best dogs are usually so positive in this sense that they make no mistakes as to which way the animal has traveled.
It is common knowledge, but none the less marvelous, that an ordinary dog is usually able to follow his master by scent alone through the crowded streets of the city or across fields where a thousand fragrant flowers and grasses seem to arise on purpose to baffle him.