[1] It may be satisfactory to others to know the opinion of so undeniable an authority as Colonel Hawker. The Colonel, in the Tenth Edition of his invaluable Book on Shooting, writes, (page 285)—“Since the publication of the last edition, Lieutenant-Col. Hutchinson’s valuable work on ‘Dog-breaking’ has appeared. It is a perfect vade mecum for both Sportsmen and Keeper, and I have great pleasure in giving a cordial welcome to a Work which so ably supplies my own deficiencies.”

[2] Rounded, too, at the extremities—the outer feathers not being the longest—a formation adverse to rapid flight. The extreme outer feather of young birds is pointed, and, until late in the season, accompanies soft quills, weak brown beaks, and yellow legs. These (beaks and legs) become grey on maturity, or rather of the bluish hue of London milk—and the quills get white and hard—facts which should be attended to by those who are making a selection for the table. Hold an old and a young bird by their under beaks between your fore-finger and thumb, and you will soon see how little, comparatively, the old beak yields to the weight. This rule applies equally to grouse, the legs of which birds when young are not much feathered, but late in the season it is difficult to determine their age. Yet a knowing hand will find a difference, the old birds’ legs will still be the more feathered of the two; and its feet will be more worn and extended. If you spread open the wing of any game-bird, you will find the upper part (near the second joint) more or less bare. The less that part is covered with feathers the younger is the bird.

A poulterer once told me that at the end of the season he judged much of the age of birds by the appearance of their heads.

“Ware” sunken eyes, and tainted or discoloured vents—they have been too long out of the kitchen.

[3] The following facts are strong evidences of the correctness of this assertion. Late in the season far more grouse than ought to be are shot by “gunners,” to use an American expression,—“true sportsmen” I can hardly term them—who conceal themselves in large stooks of grain, to fire at the birds which come from the hills to feed; and, curious to say, several shots are often obtained before the pack takes wing. The first few reports frequently no more alarm them, than to make the most cautious of the number jump up to look around, when, observing nothing that ought to intimidate them, they recommence feeding. By commencing with the undermost birds, the Americans sometimes shoot in daylight all the Partridges (as they erroneously call them) roosting on a tree; and poachers in this country, by making a similar selection, often kill at night (using diminished charges) several Pheasants before those that are on the topmost branches fly away. A strong breeze much favours the poacher by diminishing the chance of the birds much hearing him.

[4] But from his very infancy you ought not to have allowed him to be disobedient. You should have made him know—which he will do nearly intuitively—that a whip can punish him, though he ought never to have suffered from it. I have heard of pups only four months old being made quite au fait to the preliminary drill here recommended. This early exercise of their intelligence and observation must have benefited them. The questionable point is the unnecessary consumption of the instructor’s time.

[5] It may be fancy, but I have imagined that coveys hatched near railway stations have less than other birds regarded the sportsman’s whistle.

[6] This is one reason for giving initiatory lessons in the “Toho” before the “Drop.” Another is that the dog may acquire the “Toho” before he has run the chance of being cowed in learning the “Drop.” If the latter were taught first, he might confound the “Toho” with it.

[7] I know of a young man’s reading the first edition of this book, and taking it into his head to teach his Terrier to point according to the method just recommended. He succeeded perfectly. Some Terriers have been made very useful for cover shooting.

[8] There is often such a similarity in the names of hounds, that a person cannot but be much struck, who for the first time sees them go to their meals, one by one as they are called.