Another wild dog, which had committed devastation among the sheep, near Wooler, in the same county (Northumberland) was on the 6th of June, 1799, advertised to be hunted on the Wednesday following by three packs of hounds, which were to meet at different places; the aid of men and firearms was also requested, with a reward promised of twenty guineas to the person killing him. This dog was described by those who had seen him at a distance, as a large greyhound, with some white in his face, neck, and one foreleg white, rather grey on the back, and the rest a jet black; an immense concourse of people assembled at the time appointed, but the chase was unprosperous; for he eluded his pursuers among the Cheviot Hills, and what is singular returned that same night to the place from whence he had been hunted in the morning, and worried an ewe and her lamb. During the whole summer he continued to destroy sheep, but changed his quarters, for he infested the fells, sixteen miles south of Carlisle, where upwards of sixty sheep fell victims to his ferocity. In September, hounds and fire-arms were again employed against him, and after a run from Carrock Fell, which was computed to be thirty miles, he was shot whilst the hounds were in pursuit, by Mr. Lewel of Wedlock, who laid in ambush at Moss Dale. During the chase, which occupied six hours, he frequently turned upon the headmost hounds, and wounded several so badly as to disable them. Upon examination he appeared of Newfoundland breed, of a common size, wire-haired, and extremely lean. This description does not tally with the dogs so injurious to the farmers in Northumberland, although from circumstances there is little doubt but it was the same animal.—Daniel.
Wildfire, s. A composition of inflammable materials, easy to take fire, and hard to be extinguished.
Wild Fowl Shooting, s. To shoot water fowl.
During the time of long frosts, if going on the water or into the marshes, after the wild fowl, does not suit the shooter’s convenience or choice, by attending the brooks and small rivers that are only partially frozen early of a morning, and following their course, he may frequently find diversion, and be almost certain of meeting with wild ducks searching both for food and fresh water; he will be also equally sure to get shots, for they will not rise until he is close upon them. In extreme severity of frost, with hard and permanent snow, the warm springs which do not freeze are spots that then seldom fail, as the wild ducks are confined to these places in order to procure the aquatic herbs growing there, and which are almost the sole food that remains for them at this inclement period.
In following wild fowl, it is easier to get within twenty yards of them by going to leeward, than a hundred and fifty if directly to windward; so very acute is their sense of smelling.
The coast between Hampshire and the Isle of Wight is peculiar, consisting, at ebb tide, of vast muddy flats, covered with green sea-weed: it affords the fowler an opportunity of practising arts perhaps not elsewhere resorted to. Fowling and fishing are indeed on this coast commonly the employment of the same person. He who in summer with his line or net, plies the shores, when they are overflowed by the tide; in winter, with his gun, as evening draws on, runs up in his boat among the little creeks, which the tide leaves in the mudlands, and lies in patient expectation of his prey. Sea-fowl usually feed by night, when, in all their multitudes, they come down to graze on the savannahs of the shore. As the sonorous cloud advances, the attentive fowler listens which way they bend their course:—perhaps he has the mortification to hear them alight at too great a distance for his gun to reach them; and if he cannot edge his boat round some winding creek, which it is not always in his power to do, he despairs of success that night: perhaps, however, he is more fortunate, and has the satisfaction to hear the airy noise approach nearer, till at length the host settles in some place upon the edge of which his boat is moored. He now, as silently as possible, primes both his pieces anew, (for he is generally doubly armed) and listens with all his attention: it is so dark that he can take no aim; for if he could discern the birds, they would also see him; and being exceedingly timorous, would seek some other pasture. Though they march with noise, they feed in silence; some indistinct noises, however, if the night be still, issue from so vast a concourse; he directs his piece, therefore, towards the sound, fires at a venture, and instantly catching up his other gun, discharges it where he supposes the flock to rise on the wing. His gains for the night are now decided, and he has only to gather his harvest. He immediately puts on his mud pattens (flat square pieces of board, which the fowler ties to his feet, that he may not sink in the ooze) ignorant yet of his success, and goes groping about in the dark in quest of his booty, picking up sometimes many, and perhaps none. And, after all, others frequently enjoy more from his labours than himself: for the tide often throws, next day, on different parts of the shore, many of the birds which he killed, but could not find in the night.
This hazardous occupation once led a fowler into singular distress:—it happened too in the day-time, which shows still more forcibly the risk of such nocturnal expeditions. Mounted on his mud pattens, he was traversing one of these oozy plains in search of ducks, and, being intent only on his game, suddenly found the water, which had been accelerated by some peculiar circumstance affecting the tide, had made an alarming progress around him, and he found himself completely encircled: in this desperate situation, an idea struck him, as the only hope of safety. He retired to that part which seemed the highest, from its being yet uncovered by water, and striking the barrel of his long gun deep in the ooze, he resolved to hold fast by it, as well for a support as a security against the waves, and to wait the ebbing of the tide.—He had reason to believe that a common tide would not have flowed above his middle; but, in the midst of his reasoning upon the subject, the water had reached him:—it rippled over his feet—it gained his knees, his waist:—button after button was swallowed up, until at length it flowed over his shoulders! With a palpitating heart, he gave himself up for lost! Still, however, he held fast by his anchor:—his eye was eagerly in search for some boat, which might accidentally be passing, but none appeared. A head upon the surface of the water, and that sometimes covered by a wave, was no object to be descried from the land, at the distance of half a league; nor could he exert any sounds of distress that could be heard so far! While, as the exigence would allow, he was thus making up his mind to the terrors of certain destruction, his attention was called to a new object:—he thought he saw the uppermost button of his coat begin to appear! No mariner floating on a wreck could behold approaching succour with greater transport than he felt at the transient view of his button; but the fluctuation of the water was such, and the turn of the tide so slow, that it was yet some time before he durst venture to assure himself that the button was fairly above the level of the flood; at length, a second button appearing at intervals, his sensations may rather be conceived than described; and his joy gave him spirits and resolution to support his situation four or five hours longer, until the water had fully retired.—Daniel—Gilpin.
Wild Turkeys, s. Turkeys not domesticated.