546. In North America I once saw three snipe lying on the ground, which a pointer, that retrieved, had regularly set one after the other, having found a couple on his way to retrieve the first, and which he afterwards brought in succession to his master, who had all the time governed the dog entirely by signs, never having been obliged to use his voice beyond saying in a low tone, “Dead,” or “Find.” I remember, also, hearing of a retrieving setter that on one occasion pointed a fresh bird, still retaining in her mouth the winged partridge which she was carrying,—and of a pointer who did the same when he was bringing a hare; there must, too, be few sportsmen who will not admit that they have found it more difficult to make a dog give up the pursuit of a wounded hare than of one perfectly uninjured. I know of a sportsman’s saying he felt certain that the hare his retriever was coursing over the moors must have been struck, although the only person who had fired stoutly maintained that the shot was a regular miss. The owner of the dog, however, averred that this was impossible, as he never could get the discerning animal to follow any kind of unwounded game; and, on the other hand, that no rating would make him quit the pursuit of injured running feather or fur. The retriever’s speedy return with puss, conveniently balanced between his jaws, bore satisfactory testimony to the accuracy of both his own and his master’s judgement. In December ’49, a woodcock that was struck hard took a long flight. A setter bitch I have often shot over came, quite unexpectedly to herself, on the scent of the bird when it was at such a distance from her that the party who had shot it felt sure she was on other game. Instead, however, of “setting,” the bitch, who, be it observed, is particularly steady, drew on, and after deliberately walking up to the woodcock, gave it a touseling, for she is not broken into “pointing dead.” It is certain that her olfactory nerves plainly told her there was no chance of its rising.

COLONEL T——Y’S VENUS.

547. In corroboration of the correctness of the opinion I have just expressed, respecting the difference between the scent of injured and uninjured birds, I am glad to be permitted to make the following extract from a letter I lately received from Colonel T——y, spoken of in [99]. He writes, “When shooting at Alresford, in Essex, last year, I had a singular instance of Venus’ sagacity in detecting the scent of wounded game. I was returning home, and while walking through a field of turnips a covey of birds got up near the fence. I winged one, which fell in the midst of some rabbits and pheasants feeding near the edge of the cover on the opposite side. Of course, they all bolted at the appearance of such an unwelcome visitor as the retriever—the rabbits into their burrows,—the pheasants into cover. My servant brought the bitch up to the place where I thought the bird had fallen. After puzzling about for some time, she took the trail about thirty yards down by the side of the fence, and then ‘set’ at a rabbit-hole. Thinking she was mistaken, I rated her and tried to get her away, but she stuck to her point. Determining, therefore, to ascertain the facts, we dug up the top part of a narrow fence, and bolted a couple of rabbits out of the hole, at the further end of which we found my wounded bird, an old Frenchman.”[99]

HARMONY BETWEEN DOG AND MASTER.

548. Some good sportsmen maintain that a retrieving setter (or pointer) on finding a dead bird ought to point it until directed to lift it. This training they hold to be advisable, on the ground that it conduces to the dog’s steadiness by diminishing his wish to run forward on seeing a bird fall; but the plan has necessarily this evil consequence, that should the setter, when searching for the dead bird, come across and point, as he ought, any fresh game, on your telling him to fetch it (as you naturally will), he must spring it if he attempt to obey you. Surely this would tend more to unsteady him than the habit of lifting his dead birds as soon as found? Your dog and you ought always to work in the greatest harmony—in the mutual confidence of your, at all times, thoroughly understanding each other—and you should carefully avoid the possibility of ever perplexing him by giving him any order it is out of his power to obey, however much he may exert himself. Moreover, if you teach your retrieving setter to “point dead,” you at once relinquish—surely unnecessarily?—all hope of ever witnessing such a fine display of sagacity and steadiness as has just been related in the first part of [546].

549. If you object to a setter’s being taught to lift on the ground, that it will make the other dogs jealous, pray remember that the argument has equal force against the employment of a regular retriever in their presence.

REGULAR RETRIEVER TO BEAT.

550. We all have our prejudices,—every Englishman has a right to many. One of mine is to think a regular retriever positively not worth his keep to you for general shooting if one of your setting dogs will retrieve well—but what an all-important “if” is this! However, if you shoot much in cover, I admit that a regular retriever which can be worked in perfect silence, never refusing to come in when he is merely signalled to, or, if out of sight, softly whistled to, is better[100] (particularly when you employ beaters), but even then he need not be the idler that one generally sees,—he might be broken in to hunt close to you, and give you the same service as a mute spaniel. I grant this is somewhat difficult to accomplish, for it much tends to unsteady him, but it can be effected,—I have seen it,—and being practicable, it is at least worth trying; for if you succeed, you, as before ([536]), make one dog perform the work of two; and, besides its evident advantage in thick cover, if he accompany you in your everyday shooting, you will thus obtain, in the course of a season, many a shot which your other dogs, especially in hot weather, would pass over. If, too, the retriever hunts quite close to you, he can in no way annoy his companions, or interfere with them, for I take it for granted he will be so obedient as to come to “heel” the instant he gets your signal.

RETRIEVERS BEATING.

551. Many regular retrievers take spontaneously to beating. Two brothers, named W——e, living at Grewell, in Hampshire, termed by the village wags, not inappropriately, “Watergruel” (there is good snipe and duck-shooting in the surrounding marshes), have a ranging-retriever (a Newfoundland), still young, now called “Nelly,” though, as a puppy, christened “Nelson” by the girls of the family. Miss Nelly, as if to give further proof of the impropriety of her original name, is remarkably timid, and therefore has been allowed to follow, unchecked, her own devices in the field. In imitation of her companions, she took to beating and pointing; and, after the “down charge,” would retrieve as zealously and efficiently as if she had never been allowed to “quit heel,” except for that express purpose. I have myself, when in the north, killed game to the voluntary point of “Sambo,” a black regular retriever, who was permitted to range close to the keeper. I have also shot to the point of “Bang,” a very handsome animal, a cross between a Newfoundland and a setter. Dogs so bred often, when ranging, take to pointing for a short period before dashing in; or can easily be made to do so,—thereby giving the gun a very acceptable caution.