311. When I advised you ([266]) to let the dog “have plenty of time to make out the bird,” I spoke from personal experience, and from a vivid recollection of errors committed in my novitiate. A young hand is too apt to imagine that every bird which falls to his gun is killed outright, and lying dead on the spot where it fell. He will, therefore, often impatiently, and most injudiciously, call away the dog who, at a little distance, may have hit off the trail of the winged bird, and be “footing” it beautifully.
312. If in these lessons you should fail in obtaining one or two wounded birds, though it might not be a matter of any moment to yourself personally, it would be extremely vexatious on the dog’s account, because, in this early stage of his education, it would tend to discourage him. The feeling which you must anxiously foster in him is this, that after the word “Find”[57] the search must never be relinquished, even though he be constrained to hunt from morning till night. And it is clear that to make an abiding, valuable impression, this lesson must be inculcated on the several first occasions with unremitting, untiring diligence.
ALLOW HIM TO “NOSE.”
313. Persevere, therefore, for an hour, rather than give up a wounded bird. Join in the search yourself. Even if you see where it lies, do not pick it up hastily. On the contrary, leave it, but mark well the spot. Keep on the move. Hold your gun as if in expectation of a rise. Pretend to seek for the bird in every direction, even for a good half hour, if you can encourage your dog to hunt so long. If, indeed, you see him flag, and get wearied and dispirited, gradually bring him close, but to leeward of the spot where the bird lies, in order to make him “point dead,” and be rewarded for all his diligence by finding it himself. Let him, also, have a good sniff at it and nose it (but let there be no biting or mouthing), before you put it into the bag. Otherwise, what return has he for the pains he has taken?
SEARCH FOR HOURS.
314. It is no conclusive argument against the practice of allowing him to “nose,” that many first-rate dogs have never been so indulged. It is certain that they would not have been worse if they had; and many a dog, that would otherwise have been extremely slack, has been incited to hunt with eagerness from having been so rewarded. There are dogs who, from having been constantly denied all “touseling,” will not even give themselves the trouble of searching for any bird which they have seen knocked over, much less think of pointing it. They seem satisfied with this ocular evidence of its death; for, odd to say, these very dogs will often zealously obey the order to hunt for any bird whose fall they have not noticed; but in winding it they will indulge in no more than a passing sniff,—which sniff, unless you are watchful, you may not observe, and so lose your bird. Never fail, therefore, to let your pupil ruffle the feathers[58] a little, while you bestow on him a caress or a kind word of approbation. You then incite to perseverance, by, even with dogs, a very abiding motive,—“self-interest;” but mind the important rule, that this “nosing” be only when the bird is in your possession, not before it is in your possession. If you wish to establish for ever a confirmed perseverance in “seeking dead,” you must sacrifice hours (I say it seriously) rather than give up any of the first wounded birds. Be persuaded that every half hour spent in an unremitting search for one bird, if ultimately successful, will more benefit the young dog than your killing a dozen to him, should you bag them the moment you are reloaded. Of course you would not, when you are giving such a lesson in perseverance, fire at another bird, even if it sprang at your feet,—for your doing so, whether you missed or killed, would unsettle the young dog, and make him relinquish his search. Be stimulated to present exertion by the conviction that if he be not now well instructed, you must expect him to lose, season after season, nearly every bird only slightly disabled by a merely tipped wing.
315. I casually asked Mr. H——h what kind of sport he had had in Aberdeenshire with Sir W——m F——n. He replied, “The pleasantest imaginable. One day we killed forty-six brace, and bagged every feather. Indeed, F——n never loses a bird. I have actually known him, when his dogs were young, spend a full half hour in hunting for a dead bird; nothing would induce him to give up. The consequence is, that now he never loses one by any chance. He broke in the dogs entirely himself:—he would seldom allow his keeper to say a word to them. He was always very patient; and he is well rewarded for his trouble.” Why not take the same trouble and obtain a like reward? This was true sport! What battue-shooting could compare with it?
LOAD BEFORE YOU BAG.
316. I hope you will not say, as would most of our neighbours [59] on the other side of the Channel: “But if, instead of waiting to load, I had gone after the winged bird just as it fell, when first I saw it start off running, the evil you have now spoken of ([312]) could not have occurred, for there would have but been little risk of losing it.” Probably not, but you would have almost ruined your dog; and to secure this one bird, in all likelihood you would subsequently lose a hundred. [60] How could you with justice blame him if, when next you killed, he rushed headlong after the bird (instead of dropping patiently to the “down charge”), and so sprung a dozen birds while you were unloaded?