524. Not only to the idle or tired sportsman would it be a great benefit to have a field thus beaten, but the keenest and most indefatigable shot would experience its advantages in the cold and windy weather customary in November, when the tameness of partridge-shooting cannot be much complained of; for the birds being then ever ready to take wing, surely the best chance, by fair means, of getting near them would be to intercept them between the dog and yourself. The manœuvre much resembles that recommended in [284], but in this you sooner and more directly head the birds.
HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.
525. Here the consideration naturally arises, whether dogs could not be taught (when hunting in the ordinary manner with the dog in rear)
TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.
Certainly it could be done. There have been many instances of old dogs spontaneously galloping off, and placing themselves on the other side of the covey (which they had pointed) as soon as they perceived that it was on the run,—and by good instruction you could develop, or rather excite, that exercise of sagacity.
526. Tolfrey (formerly, I believe, of the 43rd) gives, in his “Sportsman in France,” so beautiful an instance of a dog’s untutored intelligence, leading him to see the advantage of thus placing running birds between himself and the gun, that I will transcribe it, although I have already mentioned (end of [206]) Grouse’s very similar behaviour.
527. “On gaining some still higher ground, the dog drew and stood. She was walked up to, but to my astonishment we found no birds. She was encouraged, and with great difficulty coaxed off her point. She kept drawing on, but with the same ill-success. I must confess I was for the moment sorely puzzled; but knowing the excellence of the animal, I let her alone. She kept drawing on for nearly a hundred yards—still no birds. At last, of her own accord, and with a degree of instinct amounting almost to the faculty of reasoning, she broke from her point, and dashing off to the right made a détour, and was presently straight before me, some three hundred yards off, setting the game whatever it might be, as much as to say, ‘I’ll be ****** if you escape me this time.’ We walked steadily on, and when within about thirty yards of her, up got a covey of red-legged partridges, and we had the good fortune to kill a brace each. It is one of the characteristics of these birds to run for an amazing distance before they take wing; but the sagacity of my faithful dog baffled all their efforts to escape. We fell in with several coveys of these birds during the day, and my dog ever after gave them the double, and kept them between the gun and herself.”
528. Mr. M——i, an officer high in the military store department, wrote to me but last Christmas (1863) almost in the following words:—
ALBERT AND PEGGY.
529. “When stationed in Jamaica, quail and the wild guinea-fowl were the only game I ever hunted for. The latter are very difficult to approach, as they run for hours through the long grass and brushwood, and will not rise unless hard pressed; but when once flushed, they spread through the cover, and lie so close, that one may almost kick them before without raising them. My dog, ‘Albert,’ was broke on grouse before I had him out from home. A steadier or better dog you will rarely see. The first time we went out after guinea-fowl he set to work as though hunting for grouse, pointing, and roading cautiously when he came on the run of the birds, but, from their pace through the cover, never coming up with them. This occurred the first two or three mornings, and annoyed him greatly. At last one day, as soon as he found that the birds were running through the bush, he halted, turned round, and looked up at me as much as to say: ‘My poking after these fellows is all nonsense; do let me try some other dodge.’ So I told him to go on, when he instantly started off, making a wide cast until he headed his game, when he commenced beating back towards me, driving the birds before him until they were sufficiently near me, when he dashed suddenly in amongst them, forcing the whole pack to take wing. They spread through the surrounding grass and cover, and ‘Albert’ and his mother, ‘Peggy,’ went to work, picking up the birds singly or in pairs as they lay. Old mother ‘Peggy’ was far too sedate and stanch to follow her son in the chase; she remained with me until he had brought back, and flushed the birds, and then she vied with him in finding them.