If a man is so weak and infirm of purpose, or so ignorant of the first principles of his art, as to be unable to control his setters, he must, I suppose, use a slow pointer; but it cannot matter what dog such a man uses, he never can be a sportsman.
If there be a hundred birds lying, and lying well on one acre of feeding-ground, the birds can be killed without a dog, or with a slow dog, as you will; any man who can pull a trigger must fill his bag.
If there be a hundred birds scattered, wild, over five hundred acres of ground, where are you with your slow dog, or your no dog? Just no where. While you are painfully picking up your three or four birds with your slow pointer, your true sportsman, and slashing walker, with his racing up-head and down-stern setters, will have found fifty, and bagged twenty-five or thirty.
There are ten days in a season when birds are wild and sparse, for one when they are congregated and lie hard; and the argument comes to this, that when birds can be killed with ease, even without a dog at all, a slow pointer is the best; when they are difficult to find, and hard to kill, even by a crack shot, the slow pointer is no where, and of no use, while the racing setters will fill the bag to a certainty.
For my own part, I can say to a certainty, that I have had more sport, and killed more birds, by many, many times, when birds have been widely scattered, and difficult to find, and when I have walked half or a quarter of a mile between every shot fired, than I ever have when birds have lain close, and jumped up at every pace under my feet; and for a simple reason, that the places in which birds so rise and lie, are rare and of small extent, and the days on which they do so few and far apart.
Therefore I say, friend—for all true sportsmen I hold friends—choose well thy day, when the air is soft and genial, the wind south-westerly, the meadows green with succulent and tender grasses, and moist with the deposit of subsiding waters—select thy grounds carefully; in such a time as I have named, the wide and open marsh meadows; but if the wind be from the eastward, cold, squally and snow laden, then try the bushy, briary brakes, where cattle poach the soil, and the marsh waters creep, or the verge of the meadows, under the lea of the maple swamp, or at the worst the very grounds where you would beat for woodcock in July—begin from the farthest windward point of thy beat, casting thy brace of setters off from thy heel, to the right and left, and so often as they have diverged one hundred yards, taming them with a whistle and a wave of the hand, so that they shall cross continually before thy face, down wind of thee, at some thirty paces distant; and so persevere—if birds be plenty and lie well, walking not to exceed two miles the hour; if they be rare and wild, four miles, or by ’r lady! five, if thou mayest compass it. If one dog stand, while the other’s back is turned, whistle, that he shall turn his head, then hold thy hand aloft, with one quiet “toho!” but no shooting; if he be broke, he shall stand like a carved stone. Then walk up to the point leisurely, be sure that thou go down wind, making a circuit if needs be, with thy gun at half-cock, the ball of thy thumb on the hammer, and the nail of thy fore-finger inside the guard, but not upon the trigger. When the bird rises, cock your gun, and down him! If thy dogs do their devoir, they shall drop to the charge unbidden; if they do not, raise thy hand with an imperious gesture, and cry coolly and calmly “down charge;” but however ill they behave, nay! even if they run in and eat thy bird, move not till thy gun is loaded; then calmly walk up to them, drag them, pitilessly scourging them all the way, to the place where they should have charged, and rate them in the best of thy dog-language. I say “scourging them pitilessly,” because that is, in truth, the merciful course; for so one or two whippings will suffice, instead of constant small chastisement and irritation, which spoil a dog’s temper and break his spirit, without conquering his obstinacy, or gaining the ascendancy over him.
If, on the contrary, they charge as decent dogs should and do charge, so soon as thy gun be loaded, lift them, with a “Hold up, good lads!” and cast them gently onward, checking them with a “Steady, dogs!” if they show disposition to be rash, until they point the dead bird, if killed, or draw on him, if running. Then, with a “Toho! Steady!” walk to their point; pick up the bird under their noses, praising them the while, or bid them “Fetch!” according to the circumstances of the case; but if they retrieve the bird without pointing him, or even after pointing him, until told to “fetch,” let chastisement not hide her head.
This, rest assured, friend is the way to do it.
For the rest, whether thou wear fen-boots, or shoes and trowsers, or, as I use, by deliberate preference, arch-boots, corduroy shorts, and leggins, suit thine own fancy; but let thy shooting-jacket be roomy on the chest and shoulders, and well supplied with ample pockets. Let thy gun be—for my choice—of 31 inches, 12 or 14 gauge, 7¾ to 8 pounds. Let thy powder be Brough’s diamond grain, or John Hall’s glass—on no account any other—thou mayest get it of Henry T. Cooper, in Broadway, New York—thy shot No. 8—thy caps Starkey’s central fire, or Moore & Gray’s, or Westley Richards’—by no means French, or Walker’s, the first of which fly, while the latter are, I think, corrosive. Forget not to have in thy pocket a dog-whip, a stout knife, a yard or two of strong cord, a pocket-flask, replenished, as thou wilt, with old Otard, or as I recommend thee, Ferintosh or Glenlivat whisky—stick in the seam of thy waistcoat a strong darning-needle, headed with sealing-wax, it is the only true and responsible gun-picker; and so, good sport to thee, and health and temper to enjoy it!—as good sport, gentle reader, as I trust myself to enjoy this coming week of April, the rain-gods and the river-gods permitting, and the nymphs remembering us, as their long-time adorer, in their kind orisons.
The Cedars, March 25, 1850.