CAUTIOUS DOGS.

199. The Rev. Mr. M——t (spoken of in [195]) had one of these valuable, fast, but cautious dogs. The dog, in leaping over a stile that led from an orchard and crowned a steep bank, accidentally tumbled head over heels. He rolled to the bottom of the bank, and there remained motionless on his back. Mr. M——t went up in great distress, fancying his favourite must have been seriously injured. However, on his approaching the dog, up sprung some partridges, which, it appears, the careful animal must have winded, and fearing to disturb, would not move a muscle of his body, for happily he was in no way hurt by the fall.

“He rolled to the bottom of the bank, and there lay motionless on his back.”
Par. [199]

QUAILS TREEING.

200. I was shooting in the upper provinces of Canada over a young dog, who suddenly checked himself and came to a stiff “set” on the top of a high zigzag log fence. I could not believe that he was cunning enough to do this for the purpose of deceiving me, because I was rating him for quitting the field before me; and yet why should he be pointing in mid-air as rigidly as if carved in stone? On my going up the enigma was solved, by a bevy of quail flying out of a neighbouring tree.[32] It is said they often take to them in America: but this was the only instance I ever saw. But we will now hark back to your pup, which, for your sake, I wish may turn out as cautious a dog.

201. You have been recommended invariably to enter every field by the leeward side. This you can generally accomplish with ease, if you commence your day’s beat to leeward. Should circumstances oblige you to enter a field on the windward side, make it a rule, as long as your dog continues a youngster, to call him to “heel,” and walk down the field with him until you get to the opposite side (the leeward),—then hunt him regularly up to windward.

202. I have read wondrous accounts of dogs, who, without giving themselves the trouble of quartering their ground, would walk straight up to the birds if there were any in the field. It has never been my luck, I do not say to have possessed such marvellous animals, but even to have been favoured with a sight of them. I therefore am inclined to think that, let your means be what they may, you would find it better not to advertise for creatures undoubtedly most rare, but to act upon the common belief that, as the scent of birds, more or less, impregnates the air, no dog, let his nose be ever so fine, can, except accidentally, wind game unless he seek for the taint in the air,—and that the dog who regularly crosses the wind must have a better chance of finding it, than he who only works up wind,—and that down wind he can have little other chance than by “roading.”

“GROUSE.”—COL. T——Y’S BITCH.