He should also be taught to follow closely on at the sportsman’s heel when they are out together; this may be done by saying, “back, back!” and striking him gently with the whip when he attempts to press forward. Any hunting dog may be taught to retrieve notwithstanding the complaints some sportsmen make to the contrary. Great patience is required to teach the dog, but the result of careful training amply compensates for the trouble. Hooper recommends that, after the dog has learned the preceding lessons, he be made to practice them often, playing with a ball.
LESSONS IN THE FIELD.
After the dog has been thoroughly drilled in the preliminary exercises we have described, it will be necessary to teach him their practical application. Much of the future value and usefulness of the dog depends upon his first day’s shooting and the manner in which he is initiated into the sport. We again avail ourselves of Mr. Hooper’s instructions for managing him the first day he is taken out:
“When you observe Dash more excited than usual, you may reasonably expect a bevy near. They will not probably be far off, as he has not become accustomed to the familiar and welcome scent that will enable him to wind them at a distance. Now comes the trying hour for master and pupil. The former should be perfectly cool, and should consider the killing of game a secondary affair—let him give his attention to Dash. The dog seems too eager for the scent—you cry ‘steady! steady!’—if he is apparently near the game, and you are afraid he will flush, you cry ‘toho!’ You approach and find the quail do not raise—you tell him to close on, which he does by moving rather rapidly—you check him by crying ‘steady! steady!’ he points, ‘toho!’ You now approach and flush the bevy; be sure you bring down one bird, and it will be well that you only fire one barrel, that you may have more time to look after Dash, who of course scampers after the whirring bevy. You immediately cry ‘toho! come in!’—on, on he goes; in his wild excitement he disregards your will entirely. You now use your whistle. By this time the birds are out of sight (but you, of course, have marked them), and he is running helter skelter. You must soon get hold of his collar, drag him rather roughly back to where he pointed—lashing him slightly—and make him ‘charge,’ and keep his position until you reload; after which you will take him to where your bird has fallen—indicate the place with your hand, crying ‘hie, fetch! fetch! fetch!’ From his previous lessons he will know that you wish him to look for something, and his nose will soon tell him what it is. Do not let him mouth or toy with it, or he will soon get in the habit of roughly mouthing your game, than which I scarcely know a worse habit.
“You may now rest for a short time, that the bevy may get over their fright; after which they will be more easily found, for if they have been very much frightened, they will not give out sufficient odor to enable your pupil to point well, and he may consequently flush them, thereby doing great harm. You cannot do better than to spend your time in repeating your house training with the dead quail: casting it from you, telling him to ‘close on! steady! charge! hie on! fetch!’ Cast it some distance unobserved—waft your hand in the proper direction, and tell him ‘hie, fetch! fetch! fetch!’ After a short time has elapsed, you may take Dash to where you have marked the birds. When near the birds, keep Dash near you, that he may be the more easily controlled. If he seem too eager he only needs the command of ‘steady!’ to control him. Let the command be in rather an undertone—never get into the snobbish habit of bawling at your dog. Apart from its being an ungentlemanly habit, it frightens the quail more or less, and they will not lie so well to the dog. Ha! but Dash has come down to a point most beautifully, ‘toho!’ You carefully approach, flush and shoot the bird, and immediately give your attention to the dog, crying ‘charge!’ in a strong and emphatic tone; if he breaks, get hold of his collar as soon as possible and lash him, and at the same time drag him to his ‘point’ and make him ‘charge’ and keep his position until you reload. You then cry ‘hie up,’ make friends with him, and cast him off—he soon points again. You manage to get very near the dog, and when you fire, immediately cry ‘charge!’ and it would be well to accompany ‘the word with a blow,’ at this juncture. You make him charge, reload, cry ‘hie up,’ indicate the point where the bird has fallen, and command him to ‘hie fetch!’ You cast him off again, and always manage to control him after you fire—never, never suffering him to break shot without feeling the lash. Remember this is the most critical time for yourself and dog. Never suffer yourself to become excited; do not for some time fire more than one barrel, that you may sooner give your attention to Dash, and you will accomplish much if you can be near enough to Dash to give him the lash as he first springs from the point, at the same time crying ‘charge!’ If you do not suffer yourself to become excited, and lose sight of your dog after your shot, you will soon have him drop at the report of the gun; but rest assured, if you let him have his own way a few times, in your eagerness to secure game, you will rue it for many a day to come. You cannot have this fact too strongly impressed upon yourself. If you control him from the first, your object will be attained. If Dash evinces unusual perverseness in this, it will be well to make him ‘charge’ while on a ‘point.’ Even should he see a dead bird fall, he should not retrieve without permission.”
It is a maxim in hunting never to allow a dog to run ahead of another in a point, but either to make him back, or come in to heel. Besides the danger of flushing your game, it would be permitting an unfair advantage to be taken of the dog doing his duty in the lead, of both which a dog of nice sensibility will show himself to be conscious. It happened, some years since, that a party was out, near Old Point Comfort in Virginia, with a fine pointer belonging to Mr. A——. A small terrier had accompanied them, and whenever the pointer would take his stand, the terrier would rush by him, and put up the birds. Repeating this vexatious, ungentlemanly conduct several times, the pointer was seen to grow impatient. At last having found another bevy, as the terrier attempted to pass him, the pointer seized him, and placing his fore paws on him, held him fast, growling to keep him quiet, and maintaining his point until the sportsmen came up.
WATER DOGS.
The Newfoundland is unquestionably the water dog par excellence, and probably the best individuals of the variety are the celebrated dogs used for duck shooting on the margin of Chesapeake Bay and commonly called the Chesapeake Bay Water Dog. These animals being derived from ancestors of pure breed, and the constant training from generation to generation having caused the transmission of their excellent qualities in increased measure to each successive generation, are probably unrivalled by any other in their particular forte. Owing to thoughtless and injudicious mixing of breeds a true Newfoundland is rarely seen. Although the purer the breed the better water dog he will be, yet many dogs of mixed breeds possessing considerable Newfoundland blood, make excellent dogs for ordinary aquatic sporting.
On breeding the water dog little need be said, for, like Dogberry’s reading and writing, his education “comes by nature.” In his infancy he may be taught to bring a glove and lay it down at your feet as he should do; and, by practice, the comprehension and fulfillment of his various duties will soon follow. He will be found, with judicious encouragement and exercise of authority, more docile than a child. They have been known at four months old to fetch a duck, but lest the constitution be impaired, they should not be put too early at hard service.
“Canton,” a celebrated Newfoundland, owned by Dr. Stewart, of Sparrow’s Point—a great sportsman in his day—was noted for a number of remarkable feats in securing “canvas backs” on the Chesapeake. She surpassed her species generally in unrivalled devotion to the water, and to the sport of ducking, as carried on by the doctor’s colored man, Varnell, with his murderous swivel gun. Her patience and endurance were almost incredible. She was the heroine of many desperate encounters with wounded swans, often pursuing them for miles, and many were her exploits among rotten and floating ice, in pursuit of wounded ducks, sometimes, in fogs and darkness. On one occasion she brought out twenty-two or twenty-three ducks, all killed or wounded by Varnell at a single shot. A good deal of time was lost in pursuing these wounded ducks, and at the close of this pursuit, it being then dark, Varnell gave up the slut as lost, so many hours had she been engaged in bringing out her game; but after Varnell had sorrowfully turned his face homeward, she overtook him with one or two ducks in her mouth; and the old doctor stated that he remembered Varnell saying that at one time, when she was most fatigued, she climbed on a cake of floating ice, and after resting herself on it, renewed the pursuit of the ducks.