[87] The really wild dogs of India,—the Dhole,—hunt by nose, and in packs.

[88] Pointer rather than setter, not only on account of his shorter coat, but because his nose seems better suited to a hot climate. This cross would be hardy; and prove extremely useful when the grain. fields are cut; but in high grass and strong jungle a team of Clumbers would be invaluable. They could not, however, be kept healthy in the low, hot lands. We must naturally expect that in the cool parts of India the true English pointer (or setter) would be found more serviceable than the best cross. For those who are fond of coursing in India what a pity it is that it should be so difficult to procure good Arab-greyhounds. Whilst I was in the country, but I speak of many years ago, I never saw a decent one. A far better description of dog, and one which would keep healthy in the hottest weather, might be imported (if expense was no consideration) from the upper parts of Arabia, where an admirable, short-coated greyhound is reared for different kinds of coursing. The best dogs are greatly valued, and it is a question whether our noble breed is not originally derived from this stock.

[89] Impression of feet.

[90] In general he knowingly places his back against a tree.

[91] The North American trappers apply the same term to an old beaver.

[92] Guinea-birds being much prized in such of the islands as possess but little game, many are reared at the farms of the planters. The negroes dig up ants’ nests, which are disagreeably numerous, and on bringing one into the yard, dash it violently upon the ground, when the chicks eagerly scramble for the contents,—the insects and the eggs. By-the-bye, much is said about the difficulty of taking eggs from Guinea-birds without making them abandon their nests. The would-be purloiner, in answer to his inquiries, is often recommended to keep as far as possible from the nest; and, that it may in no way be contaminated by his touch, to remove the eggs during the absence of the birds with an iron or silver spoon, having a long stick attached to it as a handle;—but it is seldom told him,—and therein lies the real secret,—that, in addition to such precautions, he never ought to rob a nest without leaving at the least three eggs. It is surprising how many may in this way be taken. I know of a single pair of guinea-birds being thus robbed in one spring of no less than eighty-four.

Having got into a Creole’s poultry-yard, I am unwilling to quit it without observing, that few better birds are reared than his cross between common ducks and a Muscovy drake. It is found necessary carefully to guard against the ungainly gentleman’s having any rival of the ordinary breed in the neighbourhood, for if the opportunity were afforded them, the ladies would to a certainty forsake their cumbrous lord for the more active commoner. Although the true Muscovy is very coarse eating, the Hybrid is as much an improvement upon the flavour as it is upon the size of the common duck. I have known the birds to be reared in this country, and often wondered that the plan was not more generally pursued.

[93] Improved as regards shape and action, but not as to stanchness and nose.

[94] On one occasion, shooting in India, I saw an instance of an animal’s endeavouring to hide itself, that always struck me as remarkable from the youth of the creature, and the fact that its usual instincts lead it to seek safety, not in concealment, but in flight. I was looking for a small kind of grouse commonly called there rock-pigeon, when, crowning a small eminence, I unexpectedly came upon a young antelope, about a hundred yards off, that apparently had lost its dam. The country was open and bare, with here and there a few stunted bushes. It instantly ran behind one of these, and there remained while I drew the shot, and had nearly rammed down one of the balls (enclosed in greased cloth) that I constantly carried in my pocket ready for immediate use. I was almost prepared, when off it went. As the ball was nearly home, I forced it down, not liking the trouble of extracting it, and took a random chance shot at the little animal. I could not perceive that it winced, and it was not until it fell that I was aware I had struck it. The ball had passed through its body a little too far behind the shoulder, and somewhat too high—a common fault. It was so thin and poor that it must have been separated for some time from its mother. The want of sagacity evinced by peafowl, when hiding themselves, is strongly contrasted with the intelligence displayed by the fawn. I have known these birds, when alarmed, run their heads into a crevice, leaving the whole of their bodies exposed, and then fancy themselves so effectually protected, as to remain immoveable, until the sportsman got close to them.

When you are hunting, rifle in hand, for large game on an open prairie, or where it is unlikely that you will find a convenient rest, you can carry in your waistcoat pocket, until the moment you require it, not a very bad substitute, in the shape of a piece of string looped at both ends. This string will have been carefully adjusted to exactly such a length that when one loop is slipped over your left foot, and the other loop over the end of the ramrod (near the muzzle), on your bringing up your rifle to the poise, the pull of the string will restrain you from unduly elevating it while taking aim. An ordinary rest prevents your lowering the muzzle when in the act of firing—the resistance of the string opposes your raising it. The string, however, will not wholly hinder the muzzle from diverging to the right or left,—but in reality it will much prevent such unsteadiness, by permitting your left hand to press strongly upwards against the rifle. In the new drill for firing with the Enfield, the soldier is taught a position which gives him a firm rest for his musket. It is to sit on his right heel (the right knee carried well to the right, and resting on the ground), and to place his left elbow on his left knee. He is taught to take aim a little below the object, and to raise the muzzle very slowly—and to pull the moment he covers the object, having previously well considered what allowance he should make for the influence of the wind.