[28] There are sportsmen who aver that a setter’s “falling” instead of standing is advantageous, as it does not so much alarm the birds.
[29] Provided always he be not perpetually pointing, as occasionally will happen—and is the more likely to happen if he has been injudiciously taught as a puppy to set chickens, and has thereby acquired the evil habit of “standing by eye;” which, however, may have made him a first-rate hand at pointing crows.
[30] With the understanding that the pace does not make him “shut up” before the day is over.
[31] The more resolute a dog is, the more pains should be taken, before he is shown game, to perfect him in the instant “drop” ([26]), however far off he may be ranging.
[32] The mention of quails taking to trees recalls to my recollection a novel light infantry manœuvre (for the exact particulars of which I will not, however, positively pledge myself,) that was conceived with such admirable rapidity by the commanding officer on an occasion of great emergency, and executed with such wonderful celerity by the troops under him, that I hope my professional partialities will be allowed to excuse my describing it.
Bermuda, “the blest little island,” as the fascinating Tommy Moore styles her, although now well supplied with all the necessaries of life, especially since the improvements in husbandry, introduced by its late excellent governor, Colonel R——d (now Sir William), was formerly but little better provided with fresh meat than a man-of-war victualled for a six months’ cruise. At the time I allude to there were but few cows, and only one bull on the islands; and what made matters more disagreeable, it had been slanderously reported of the strange beast that “he was an awfully vicious animal.” It is certain that he bellowed fearfully. The inhabitants (who have always been highly esteemed by those who know them) though they were not at that period as well fed with the roast beef of old England as when I was recently quartered among them, were, notwithstanding, a right loyal set, and prided themselves greatly upon their efficient militia. On a hot day,—as are most of their days,—when these good soldiers were at drill under their esteemed commander—let us say, Col. O——e,—a breathless messenger ran up to him as he was mounted on his grey charger in front of the steady line, and uttered some mysterious words. The gallant colonel’s countenance assumed a look of deep anxiety,—for an instant his cheek blanched,—his lip quivered:—but quickly rallying, he abandoned his horse, and with infinite presence of mind, gave in unfaltering accents the order, “Gentlemen, tree yourselves,—Moll Burgess’s Bull is loose.” Precept and example were here happily combined, and the able commander was among the first to find safety in the topmost branches of a neighbouring cedar. Military annals record no instance of more prompt, zealous obedience.
[33] This dispersion of scent in the atmosphere explains why a dog who carries his head high finds more game than a dog who hunts with his nose near the ground.
[34] When quartered, years ago, in County Wexford, I used frequently to see a fine strong-knit, well-built horse, who could never see me—for he was stone-blind; yet, odd to say, all his progeny had capital eyes.{1} He had rather a queer temper, as his name, “Restless,” partly implied. During the spring he was led about the country, and what is very surprising, there was always a fight to get him past the lane or gate leading to any farm-house where his services had ever before been required. As it is certain that he was perfectly blind, no faculty we can believe him to be possessed of, unless it be memory, will explain how, at such long intervals, he could recognise the many different places so accurately; and if it be attributable to memory, that of the Senior Wrangler of Cambridge’s best year can in no way be compared with it.
{1} This is the more singular, as, from unexplained causes, diseases of that organ are but too common in Ireland. One veterinary surgeon attributed it to the dampness of the climate. His young English horses suffered while at Cork as much as his Irish ones.
[35] Indeed, through a merciful dispensation, it seems to be ordained, that no animal (in the general course of nature) shall die a lingering, painful death from starvation, but shall serve for the nourishment of others before his body becomes attenuated from want.