VARIOUS RETRIEVERS.

CROSS BETWEEN WATER SPANIEL AND NEWFOUNDLAND DOG—BETWEEN WATER SPANIEL AND SETTER DOG—BETWEEN SETTER AND NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.

[Larger image] (210 kB)

DOG BREAKING.

THE MOST EXPEDITIOUS, CERTAIN, AND EASY METHOD,

WHETHER GREAT EXCELLENCE OR ONLY MEDIOCRITY BE REQUIRED,
WITH ODDS AND ENDS FOR THOSE WHO LOVE
THE DOG AND GUN.

BY MAJOR-GENERAL W. N. HUTCHINSON,

LATE COLONEL GRENADIER GUARDS.

FOURTH EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED.

NEAR WALTHAM ABBEY, 1st Sept. 1847.

LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1865.

LONDON
R. CLAY, SON, AND TAYLOR, PRINTERS,
BREAD STREET HILL.

PREFACE TO FOURTH EDITION.

A FOURTH preface, Mr. Murray!!!

There are not sufficient materials, although there is some fresh matter, and undeniably, many excellent sketches, thanks to the clever artist F. W. Keyl, and the talented amateur John M——n, who, contrary to the advice of many friends, has determined that the sword shall be his profession rather than the pencil.

Well!—another party shall speak for me, and much surprised will he be to find the duty his words are performing; but they advocate so good a cause that I feel sure of his forgiveness. He writes in the third person, for we are perfect strangers to each other.

“Captain T——r has all his life been a most enthusiastic sportsman, but never broke a dog, until a year ago, when he happened to come across the Major-General’s work on ‘Dog-breaking.’ Since then he has trained two entirely on the system laid down in the book. People say they have never before seen dogs so well broken—certainly the owner never has.”

“Always an ardent disciple of St. Hubert, Captain T——r is now still more so from the increased gratification he derives from the performance of animals trained entirely by himself.”

Reader, why not give yourself a similar gratification?

W. N. H.

Government House, Devonport,
December, 1864.

PREFACE TO THIRD EDITION.

I cannot help congratulating my canine friends, (and may I not their masters also?), on the circulation of two large impressions of this work; for I trust that many of the suggestions therein offered have been adopted, and that their education has consequently been effected in a much shorter period, and with far less punishment, than that of their forefathers.

I have endeavoured in the present edition to render more complete the lessons respecting Setters and Pointers. I have added somewhat on the subject of Spaniels, Retrievers, and Bloodhounds. It has been my aim, also, to give a few useful hints regarding the rearing and preservation of Game; and I shall be disappointed if the youngest of my readers does not derive, from the perusal of what I have written, an assurance that he need not take the field wholly ignorant of all sporting matters, or without any knowledge of the best method of “handling arms.”

W. N. H.

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

When Colonel Hawker, who has been styled the “Emperor of Sportsmen,” writes to me, (and kindly permits me to quote his words), “I perfectly agree with you in everything you have said, and I think your work should be preached in a series of lectures to every dog-breaker in the profession, as all these fellows are too fond of the whip, which hardens the animal they are instructing, and the use of their own tongues, which frighten away the birds you want to shoot,” I feel some confidence in the correctness of what I have put forth. But there may be points that have not been noticed, and some things that require explanation, especially as regards Spaniels and Retrievers. In endeavouring to supply these deficiencies, I hope my additional prosing may not send the dog-breaker to sleep, instead of helping to make him more “wide-awake.”

W. N. H.

PREFACE NO PREFACE.

(FOR FIRST EDITION.)

My respected Publisher has suggested that a Preface may be expected. His opinion on such a subject ought to be law; but as I fear my readers may think that I have already sufficiently bored them, I will beg them, in Irish fashion, to refer any formalist, who considers a Preface necessary, to the conclusion of the work, where a statement will be found of the motive which induced me to write.

W. N. H.

CONTENTS.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

^*_*^* The Frontispiece, Vignette Title, and the Lessons, are designed and drawn on Wood by F. W. Keyl. See [4th Preface].

DOG-BREAKING.

CHAPTER I.

PRELIMINARY OBSERVATIONS. QUALIFICATIONS, IN BREAKER,—IN DOG.

[1]. Dog-breaking an Art easily acquired.—[2]. Most expeditious Mode of imparting every Degree of Education. Time bestowed determines Grade of Education. In note, Col. Hawker’s opinion.—[3]. Sportsmen recommended to break in their own Dogs.—[4]. Men of property too easily satisfied with badly broken Dogs. Keepers have no Excuse for Dogs being badly broken.—[5]. Great Experience in Dog-breaking, or Excellence in Shooting, not necessary. Dispositions of Dogs vary.—[6]. What is required in an Instructor.—[7]. Early in a Season any Dog will answer, a good one necessary afterwards. Hallooing, rating Dogs, and loud whistling spoil Sport. In note, Age and choice of birds. Several shots fired from Stooks at Grouse without alarming them. American Partridges and our Pheasants killed while at roost.—[8]. What a well broken Dog ought to do.—[9]. Severity reprobated.—[10]. Astley’s Method of teaching his Horses.—[11]. Franconi’s Cirque National de Paris.—[12]. Initiatory Lessons recommended—to be given when alone with Dog—given fasting.—[13]. Success promised if rules be followed. Advantages of an expeditious Education. September shooting not sacrificed.

ART EASILY ACQUIRED.

1. Dog-breaking, so far from being a mystery, is an art easily acquired when it is commenced and continued on rational principles.

2. I think you will be convinced of this if you will have the patience to follow me, whilst I endeavour to explain what, I am satisfied, is the most certain and rapid method of breaking in your dogs, whether you require great proficiency in them, or are contented with an inferior education. No quicker system has yet been devised, however humble the education may be. The education in fact, of the peasant, and that of the future double-first collegian, begins and proceeds on the same principle. You know your own circumstances, and you must yourself determine what time you choose to devote to tuition; and, as a consequence, the degree of excellence to which you aspire. I can only assure you of my firm conviction, that no other means will enable you to gain your object so quickly; and I speak with a confidence derived from long experience in many parts of the world, on a subject that was, for several years, my great hobby.[1]

3. Every writer is presumed to take some interest in his reader; I therefore feel privileged to address you as a friend, and will commence my lecture by strongly recommending, that, if your occupations will allow it, you take earnestly and heartily to educating your dogs yourself. If you possess temper and some judgment, and will implicitly attend to my advice, I will go bail for your success; and much as you may now love shooting, you will then like it infinitely more. Try the plan I recommend, and I will guarantee that the Pointer or Setter pup which I will, for example sake, suppose to be now in your kennel, shall be a better dog by the end of next season (I mean a more killing dog) than probably any you ever yet shot over.

4. Possibly, you will urge, that you are unable to spare the time which I consider necessary for giving him a high education, (brief as that time is, compared with the many, many months wasted in the tedious methods usually employed), and that you must, perforce, content yourself with humbler qualifications. Be it so. I can only condole with you, for in your case this may be partly true; mind I only say partly true. But how a man of property, who keeps a regular gamekeeper, can be satisfied with the disorderly, disobedient troop, to which he often shoots, I cannot understand. Where the gamekeeper is permitted to accompany his master in the field, and hunt the dogs himself, there can be no valid excuse for the deficiency in their education. The deficiency must arise either from the incapacity, or from the idleness of the keeper.

5. Unlike most other arts, dog-breaking does not require much experience; but such a knowledge of dogs, as will enable you to discriminate between their different tempers and dispositions (I had almost said characters)—and they vary greatly—is very advantageous. Some require constant encouragement; some you must never beat; whilst, to gain the required ascendancy over others, the whip must be occasionally employed. Nor is it necessary that the instructor should be a very good shot; which probably is a more fortunate circumstance for me than for you. It should even be received as a principle that birds ought to be now and then missed to young dogs, lest some day, if your nerves happen to be out of order, or a cockney companion be harmlessly blazing away, your dog take it into his head and heels to run home in disgust, as I have seen a bitch, called Countess, do more than once, in Haddingtonshire.

REQUISITES IN AN INSTRUCTOR.

6. The chief requisites in a breaker are:—Firstly, command of temper, that he may never be betrayed into giving one unnecessary blow, for, with dogs as with horses, no work is so well done as that which is done cheerfully; secondly, consistency, that in the exhilaration of his spirits, or in his eagerness to secure a bird, he may not permit a fault to pass unreproved (I do not say unpunished) which at a less exciting moment he would have noticed—and that, on the other hand, he may not correct a dog the more harshly, because the shot has been missed, or the game lost; and lastly, the exercise of a little reflection, to enable him to judge what meaning an unreasoning animal is likely to attach to every word and sign, nay to every look.

HALLOING SPOILS SPORT.

7. With the coarsest tackle, and worst flies, trout can be taken in unflogged waters, while it requires much science, and the finest gut, to kill persecuted fish. It is the same in shooting. With almost any sporting dog, game can be killed early in the season, when the birds lie like stones, and the dog can get within a few yards of them; but you will require one highly broken, to obtain many shots when they are wild. Then any incautious approach of the dog, or any noise, would flush the game, and your own experience will tell you that nothing so soon puts birds on the run, and makes them so ready to take flight, as the sound of the human voice, especially now-a-days, when farmers generally prefer the scythe to the sickle, and clean husbandry, large fields, and trim narrow hedges, (affording no shelter from wet) have forced the partridge—a short-winged[2] bird—unwillingly to seek protection (when arrived at maturity) in ready flight rather than in concealment. Even the report of a gun does not so much alarm them as the command, “Toho,” or “Down charge,”[3] usually, too, as if to make matters worse, hallooed to the extent of the breaker’s lungs. There are anglers who recommend silence as conducive to success, and there are no experienced sportsmen who do not acknowledge its great value in shooting. Rate or beat a dog at one end of a field, and the birds at the other will lift their heads, become uneasy, and be ready to take wing the moment you get near them. “Penn,” in his clever maxims on Angling and Chess, observes to this effect, “if you wish to see the fish, do not let him see you;” and with respect to shooting, we may as truly say, “if you wish birds to hear your gun, do not let them hear your voice.” Even a loud whistle disturbs them. Mr. O——t of C——e says, a gamekeeper’s motto ought to be,—“No whistling—no whipping—no noise, when master goes out for sport.”

WHAT A DOG OUGHT TO DO.

8. These observations lead unavoidably to the inference, that no dog can be considered perfectly broken, that does not make his point when first he feels assured of the presence of game, and remain stationary where he makes it, until urged on by you to draw nearer—that does not, as a matter of course, lie down without any word of command the moment you have fired, and afterwards perseveringly seek for the dead bird in the direction you may point out,—and all this without your once having occasion to speak, more than to say in a low voice, “Find,” when he gets near the dead bird, as will be hereafter explained. Moreover, it must be obvious that he risks leaving game behind him if he does not hunt every part of a field, and, on the other hand, that he wastes your time and his strength, if he travel twice over the same ground, nay, over any ground which his powers of scent have already reached. Of course, I am now speaking of a dog hunted without a companion to share his labours.

9. You may say, “How is all this, which sounds so well in theory, to be obtained in practice without great severity?” Believe me, with severity it never can be attained. If flogging would make a dog perfect, few would be found unbroken in England or Scotland, and scarcely one in Ireland.

10. Astley’s method was to give each horse his preparatory lessons alone, and when there was no noise or anything to divert his attention from his instructor. If the horse was interrupted during the lesson, or his attention in any way withdrawn, he was dismissed for that day. When perfect in certain lessons by himself, he was associated with other horses, whose education was further advanced. And it was the practice of that great master to reward his horses with slices of carrot or apple when they performed well.

ASTLEY AND FRANCONI.

11. Mons. A. Franconi in a similar manner rewards his horses. One evening I was in such a position, at a performance of the Cirque National de Paris, that I could clearly see, during the Lutte des Voltigeurs, that the broad-backed horse held for the men to jump over was continually coaxed with small slices of carrots to remain stationary, whilst receiving their hard thumps as they sprang upon him. I could not make out why the horse was sniffing and apparently nibbling at the chest of the man standing in front of him with a rein in each hand to keep his tail towards the spring-board, until I remarked that a second man, placed in the rear of the other, every now and then, slily passed his hand under his neighbour’s arm to give the horse a small piece of carrot.

12. Astley may give us a useful hint in our far easier task of dog-breaking. We see that he endeavoured by kindness and patience to make the horse thoroughly comprehend the meaning of certain words and signals before he allowed him any companion. So ought you, by what may be termed “initiatory lessons,” to make your young dog perfectly understand the meaning of certain words and signs, before you hunt him in the company of another dog—nay, before you hunt him at all; and, in pursuance of Astley’s plan, you ought to give these lessons when you are alone with the dog, and his attention is not likely to be withdrawn to other matters. Give them, also, when he is fasting, as his faculties will then be clearer, and he will be more eager to obtain any rewards of biscuit or other food.

QUICK TRAINING.

13. Be assured, that by a consistent adherence to the simple rules which I will explain, you can obtain the perfection I have described, ([8]) with more ease and expedition than you probably imagine to be practicable; and, if you will zealously follow my advice, I promise, that, instead of having to give up your shooting in September, (for I am supposing you to be in England) while you break in your pup, you shall then be able to take him into the field, provided he is tolerably well-bred and well disposed, perfectly obedient, and, except that he will not have a well-confirmed, judicious range, almost perfectly made; at least so far made, that he will only commit such faults, as naturally arise from want of experience. Let me remind you also, that the keep of dogs is expensive, and supplies an argument for making them earn their bread by hunting to a useful purpose, as soon as they are of an age to work without injury to their constitution. Time, moreover, is valuable to us all, or most of us fancy it is. Surely, then, that system of education is best which imparts the most expeditiously the required degree of knowledge.

CHAPTER II.

INITIATORY LESSONS WITHIN DOORS. SHOOTING PONIES.

[14]. One Instructor better than two.—[15]. Age at which Education commences.—In-door breaking for hours, better than Out-door for weeks.—[16]. To obey all necessary Words of Command and all Signals before shown Game.—[17]. Unreasonableness of not always giving Initiatory Lessons—leads to Punishment—thence to Blinking.—[18]. Dog to be your constant Companion, not another’s.—[19], [21], [22]. Instruct when alone with him. Initiatory Lessons in his Whistle—in “Dead”—“Toho”—“On”—[20]. All Commands and Whistling to be given in a low Tone.—[23] to [26]. Lessons in “Drop”—Head between fore-legs—Setters crouch more than Pointers.—[24]. Slovenly to employ right arm both for “Drop” and “Toho.”—[27]. Lessons in “Down charge”—Taught at Pigeon-match—Rewards taken from Hand.—[28]. Cavalry Horses fed at discharge of Pistol—Same plan pursued with Dogs.—[29]. Dog unusually timid to be coupled to another.—[30]. Lessons at Feeding Time, with Checkcords.—[31]. Obedience of Hounds contrasted with that of most Pointers and Setters.—[32]. Shooting Ponies—how broken in.—[33]. Horse’s rushing at his Fences cured—Pony anchored.

14. It is seldom of any advantage to a dog to have more than one instructor. The methods of teaching may be the same; but there will be a difference in the tone of voice and in the manner, that will more or less puzzle the learner, and retard rather than advance his education. If, therefore, you resolve to break in your dog, do it entirely yourself: let no one interfere with you.

15. As a general rule, let his education begin when he is about six or seven months old,[4] (although I allow that some dogs are more precocious than others, and bitches always more forward than dogs,) but it ought to be nearly completed before he is shown a bird ([132)]. A quarter of an hour’s daily in-door training—called by the Germans “house-breaking”—for three or four weeks will effect more than a month’s constant hunting without preliminary tuition.

USE OF INITIATORY LESSONS.

16. Never take your young dog out of doors for instruction, until he has learned to know and obey the several words of command which you intend to give him in the field, and is well acquainted with all the signs which you will have occasion to make to him with your arms. These are what may be called the initiatory lessons.

17. Think a moment, and you will see the importance of this preliminary instruction, though rarely imparted. Why should it be imagined, that at the precise moment when a young dog is enraptured with the first sniff of game, he is, by some mysterious unaccountable instinct, to understand the meaning of the word “Toho?” Why should he not conceive it to be a word of encouragement to rush in upon the game, as he probably longs to do; especially if it should be a partridge fluttering before him, in the sagacious endeavour to lure him from her brood, or a hare enticingly cantering off from under his nose? There are breakers who would correct him for not intuitively comprehending and obeying the “Toho,” roared out with stentorian lungs; though, it is obvious, the youngster, from having had no previous instruction, could have no better reason for understanding its import, than the watch-dog chained up in yonder farm-yard. Again he hears the word “Toho”—again followed by another licking, accompanied perhaps by the long lecture, “’Ware springing birds, will you?” The word “Toho” then begins to assume a most awful character; he naturally connects it with the finding of game, and not understanding a syllable of the lecture, lest he should a third time hear it, and get a third drubbing, he judges it most prudent, (unless he is a dog of very high courage) when next aware of the presence of birds, to come in to heel; and thus he commences to be a blinker, thanks to the sagacity and intelligence of his tutor. I do not speak of all professional dog-breakers, far from it. Many are fully sensible that comprehension of orders must necessarily precede all but accidental obedience. I am only thinking of some whom it has been my misfortune to see, and who have many a time made my blood boil at their brutal usage of a fine high-couraged young dog. Men who had a strong arm and hard heart to punish,—but no temper and no head to instruct.

DOG YOUR COMPANION.

18. So long as you are a bachelor, you can make a companion of your dog, without incurring the danger of his being spoiled by your wife and children; (the more, by-the-bye, he is your own companion and no other person’s the better) and it is a fact, though you may smile at the assertion, that all the initiatory lessons can be, and can best be, inculcated in your own breakfast-room.

“LEAD.”—“TOHO.”—“ON.”

19. Follow Astley’s plan. Let no one be present to distract the dog’s attention. Call him to you by the whistle you propose always using in the field. Tie a slight cord a few yards long to his collar. Throw him a small piece of toast or meat, saying, at the time, “Dead, dead.” Do this several times, chucking it into different parts of the room, and let him eat what he finds. Then throw a piece (always as you do so saying, “Dead”), and the moment he gets close to it, check him by jerking the cord, at the same time saying, “Toho,” and lifting up your right arm almost perpendicularly. By pressing on the cord with your foot, you can restrain him as long as you please. Do not let him take what you have thrown, until you give him the encouraging word, “On,” accompanied by a forward movement of the right arm and hand, somewhat similar to the swing of an underhand bowler at cricket.

20. Let all your commands be given in a low voice. Consider that in the field, where you are anxious not to alarm the birds unnecessarily, your words must reach your dogs’ ears more or less softened by distance, and, if their influence depends on loudness, they will have the least effect at the very moment when you wish them to have the most. For the same reason, in the initiatory lessons, be careful not to whistle loudly.[5]

21. After a few trials with the checkcord, you will find yourself enabled, without touching it, and merely by using the word “Toho,” to prevent his seizing the toast (or meat), until you say “On,” or give him the forward signal. When he gets yet more perfect in his lesson, raising your right arm only, without employing your voice, will be sufficient, especially if you have gradually accustomed him to hear you speak less and less loudly. If he draw towards the bread before he has obtained leave, jerk the cord, and drag him back to the spot from which he stirred. He is not to quit it until you order him, occupy yourself as you may. Move about, and occasionally go from him, as far as you can, before you give the command “On.” This will make him less unwilling hereafter to continue steady at his point while you are taking a circuit to head him, and so get wild birds between him and your gun, ([265], [284].) The signal for his advancing, when you are facing him, is the “beckon” (see [37]).

22. At odd times let him take the bread the moment you throw it, that his eagerness to rush forward to seize it may be continued, only to be instantly restrained at your command.

“DROP.”—“DOWN CHARGE.”

23. Your left arm raised perpendicularly, in a similar manner, should make the young dog lie down. Call out “Drop,” when so holding up the left hand, and press him down with the other until he assumes a crouching position. If you study beauty of attitude, his fore-legs ought to be extended, and his head rest between them. Make him lie well down, occasionally walking round and round him, gradually increasing the size of the circle—your eyes on his. Do not let him raise himself to a sitting posture. If you do, he will have the greater inclination hereafter to move about: especially when you want to catch him, in order to chide or correct him. A halt is all you require for the “Toho,” and you would prefer his standing to his point, rather than his lying down,[6] as you then would run less risk of losing sight of him in cover, heather, or high turnips, &c. Setters, however, naturally crouch so much more than Pointers, that you will often not be able to prevent their “falling” when they are close to game. Indeed, I have heard some sportsmen argue in favour of a dog’s dropping, “that it rested him.” An advantage, in my opinion, in no way commensurate with the inconvenience that often attends the practice.

24. If you are satisfied with teaching him in a slovenly manner, you can employ your right arm both for the “Toho” and “Drop;” but that is not quite correct, for the former is a natural stop, (being the pause to determine exactly where the game is lying, preparatory to rushing in to seize it,) which you prolong by art,[7] whilst the other is wholly opposed to nature. The one affords him great delight, especially when, from experience, he has well learned its object: the latter is always irksome. Nevertheless, it must be firmly established. It is the triumph of your art. It insures future obedience. But it cannot be effectually taught without creating more or less awe, and it should create awe. It is obvious, therefore, that it must be advantageous to make a distinction between the two signals,—especially with a timid dog,—for he will not then be so likely to blink on seeing you raise your right hand, when he is drawing upon game. Nevertheless, there are breakers so unreasonable as not only to make that one signal, but the one word “Drop” (or rather “Down”) answer both for the order to point, and the order to crouch! How can such tuition serve to enlarge a dog’s ideas?

USE OF CHECKCORD.

25. To perfect him in the “Down,” that difficult part of his education,—difficult, because it is unnatural,—practise it in your walks. At very uncertain, unexpected times catch his eye, (having previously stealthily taken hold of the checkcord—a long, light one,) or whistle to call his attention, and then hold up your left arm. If he does not instantly drop, jerk the checkcord violently, and, as before, drag him back to the exact spot where he should have crouched down. Admit of no compromise. You must have implicit, unhesitating, instant, obedience. When you quit him, he must not be allowed to crawl an inch after you. If he attempt it, drive a spike into the ground, and attach the end of the checkcord to it, allowing the line to be slack; then leave him quickly, and on his running after you he will be brought up with a sudden jerk. So much the better: it will slightly alarm him. As before, take him back to the precise place he quitted,—do this invariably, though he may have scarcely moved. There make him again “Drop”—always observing to jerk the cord at the moment you give the command. After a few trials of this tethering, (say less than a dozen) he will be certain to lie down steadily, until you give the proper order or a signal ([21]), let you run away, or do what you may to excite him to move. One great advantage of frequently repeating this lesson, and thus teaching it thoroughly, is, that your dog will hereafter always feel, more or less, in subjection, whenever the cord is fastened to his collar. He must be brought to instantly obey the signal, even at the extreme limit of his beat.

26. Most probably he will not at first rise when he is desired. There is no harm in that,—a due sense of the inutility of non-compliance with the order to “Drop,” and a wholesome dread of the attendant penalty, will be advantageous. Go up to him,—pat him,—and lead him for some paces, “making much of him,” as they say in the cavalry. Dogs which are over-headstrong and resolute, can only be brought under satisfactory command by this lesson being indelibly implanted,—and I think a master before he allows the keeper to take a pup into the field to show him game, should insist upon having ocular demonstration that he is perfect in the “Drop.”

PUPPIES AT PIGEON MATCH.

27. When he is well confirmed in this all-important lesson, obeying implicitly, yet cheerfully, you may, whilst he is lying down, (in order to teach him the “down charge,”) go through the motions of loading, on no account permitting him to stir until you give him the forward signal, or say “On.” After a few times you may fire off a copper cap, and then a little powder, but be very careful not to alarm him. Until your dog is quite reconciled to the report of a gun, never take him up to any one who may be firing. I have, however, known of puppies being familiarized to the sound, by being at first kept at a considerable distance from the party firing, and then gradually, and by slow degrees brought nearer. This can easily be managed at a rifle or pigeon match, and the companionship of a made-dog would much expedite matters. Whenever, in the lessons, your young dog has behaved steadily and well, give him a reward. Do not throw it to him; let him take it from your hands. It will assist in making him tender-mouthed, and in attaching him to you.

LESSONS AT FEEDING TIME.

28. In some cavalry regiments in India, the feeding-time is denoted by the firing off of a pistol. This soon changes a young horse’s first dread of the report into eager, joyous, expectation. You might, if you did not dislike the trouble, in a similar manner, soon make your pup regard the report of a gun as the gratifying summons to his dinner, but coupled with the understanding that, as a preliminary step, he is to crouch the instant he hears the sound. After a little perseverance you would so well succeed, that you would not be obliged even to raise your hand. If habituated to wait patiently at the “drop,” however hungry he may be, before he is permitted to taste his food, it is reasonable to think he will remain at the “down charge,” yet more patiently before he is allowed to “seek dead.”

29. If your pupil be unusually timid, and you cannot banish his alarm on hearing the gun, couple him to another dog which has no such foolish fears, and will steadily “down charge.” The confidence of the one, will impart confidence to the other. Fear and joy are feelings yet more contagious in animals than in man. It is the visible, joyous animation of the old horses, that so quickly reconciles the cavalry colt to the sound of the “feeding-pistol.”

30. A keeper who had several dogs to break, would find the advantage of pursuing the cavalry plan just noticed. Indeed, he might extend it still further, by having his principal in-door drill at feeding-time, and by enforcing, but in minuter details, that kennel discipline which has brought many a pack of hounds to marvellous obedience.[8] He should place the food in different parts of the yard. He should have a short checkcord on all his pupils; and, after going slowly through the motions of loading, (the dogs having regularly “down charged” on the report of the gun,) he should call each separately by name, and by signals of the hand send them successively to different, but designated feeding-troughs. He might then call a dog to him, which had commenced eating, and, after a short abstinence, make him go to another trough. He might bring two to his heels and make them change troughs, and so vary the lesson, that, in a short time, with the aid of the checkcords, he would have them under such complete command, that they would afterwards give him comparatively but little trouble in the field. As they became more and more submissive, he would gradually retire further and further, so as, at length, to have his orders obeyed, when at a considerable distance from his pupils. The small portion of time these lessons would occupy, compared with their valuable results, should warn him most forcibly not to neglect them.

31. All keepers will acknowledge that, excepting a systematic beat, there is nothing more difficult to teach a Pointer or Setter than to refrain from “pursuing Hare.” They will concede that there is a natural tendency in the breed to stand at game; and, as a necessary consequence, they must admit that they would have far more trouble in weaning a young fox-hound from the habit, whose every instinct urges him to chase. And yet these keepers may daily see not merely one hound, but a whole pack in the highest condition, full of energy and spirits, drawing a cover alive with Hares, not one of which a single dog will even look at. Should not this fact convince a keeper, that if he is often obliged to speak loudly to the brace of dogs he calls broken, there must be something radically wrong in his management? Is he satisfied that he began their education sufficiently early, and that he has been uniformly consistent since its commencement?

SHOOTING PONIES.

32. If you have to break in a shooting pony, you must adopt some such plan as that named in [27] and [28] to make him steady. Your object will be never to alarm him, and gradually to render him fond of the sound of the gun. To effect this, you will keep the pistol, or whatever arms you use, for a long time out of his sight. Commence by burning but little powder, and fire[9] at some distance from him. Always give him a slice of carrot or apple immediately after he hears the report, and, if you act judiciously and patiently, he will soon love the sound. You may then fire in his presence (turning your back upon him, as if he were not a party in any way concerned), and, by degrees, approach nearer and nearer; but do not go quite into his stall,—that would make him shrink or start, and you wish to banish all nervousness; the least precipitation would undo you; therefore begin in the stable, with only using a copper cap. Need I caution you against firing if near any straw?

RUSHING AT FENCES.

33. Confidence being fully established, pursue the same plan when you ride the pony. Again commence with a copper cap, only by slow degrees coming to the full charge. As before, always reward him after every discharge, and also at the moment when you pull up and throw the reins on his neck. If he finds he gets slices of carrot when he stands stock-still, he will soon become so anxious to be stationary that you will have to ride with spurs to keep him to his work. By such means you could get him to lead over fences and stand on the other side until you remount. Many years ago I had in Ireland a chestnut which did not belie his colour, for I purchased him far below his value on account of his great impetuosity with hounds. He had a sad habit of rushing at his leaps, but riding him in a smooth snaffle, and often giving him slices of carrot, gradually cured his impatience, and he ultimately became very gentle and pleasant. A naval officer, well known to a friend of mine, finding he could not by other means make his pony stand when the dogs pointed, used, sailor like, to anchor the animal by “heaving overboard” (as he expressed it) a heavy weight to which a line from the curb-bit was attached. The weight was carried in one of the holster pipes,—in the other was invariably stowed away a liberal allowance of “Grog and Prog.”

CHAPTER III.

INITIATORY LESSONS CONTINUED. SPANIELS.

[34], [35]. Initiatory Lessons in “Dead” and “Seek,” continued.—[36]. In Signals to hunt to the “right”—“left”—“forward.”—[37]. In the “Beckon.” Woodcock Shooting in America.—[38]. In looking to you for instructions.—[39]. In “Care.”—[40]. Always give a reward.—[41]. In “Up.”—saves using Puzzle-peg.—[42]. Dog to carry Nose high.—[43]. Initiatory Lesson in “Footing” a Scent.—[44]. In “Heel.”—[45]. In “Gone” or “Away.”—[46]. In “Fence” or “Ware fence.”—[47]. “No” a better word than “Ware.”—[48]. Accustomed to couples.—[49]. Initiatory Lessons in-doors with a Companion—when one “drops” the other to “drop.”—[50]. Makes “Backing” quickly understood.—[51]. Initiatory Lessons with a Companion in the Fields.—[52]. Initiatory Lessons save Time—make Dogs fond of hunting.—[53]. Checkcord described. Wildest Dogs possess most energy.—[54]. Advantages of Checkcord explained—Spaniels broken in by it.—[55]. Lad to act as Whipper-in.—[56]. Retriever that acted as Whipper-in.—[57]. Jealousy made him act the part. Might be taught to Retriever.—[58]. Instead of “down charge” coming to “heel.”—[59]. As Puppies kept close to you, not to “self-hunt”—“broke” from hare.—[60]. Blacksmith straps Horse’s Leg above Hock—Dog’s similarly confined—Shot-belt round the necks of wildest.—[61]. Hunted in Gorse.—[62]. Age when shown Game. Example of good Spaniels advantageous.—[63]. Perfected in “Drop”—taught to “seek dead”—to “fetch”—entered at Hedge-rows and lightest Covers. Bells to Collars.—[64]. To hunt further side of Hedge.—[65]. How Sportsmen may aid Keeper. In note, Covers for Pheasants. Hints to Tyros on Shooting and Loading (See [Appendix]).—[66]. Experienced Spaniels slacken Pace on Game.—[67]. Difficult to work young ones in Silence.—[68]. Spaniels that Pointed.—[69]. Game first accustomed to, most liked.—[70]. Principal requisites in Spaniels.—[71]. The signal “to point with finger.”—[72]. Following Cockers a Young Man’s work.—[73]. Education differs in different Teams.—[74]. One and a half couple of large Spaniels sufficient. One of the Team to retrieve.—[75]. Clumbers procuring more Shots in Turnips than Pointers.—[76]. Lord P——n’s highly broken Team.—[77]. Of small Cockers three couple a Team. What constitutes Perfection.—[78]. Retriever with Team. Duke of Newcastle’s Keepers.—[79]. Some Teams allowed to hunt Flick.—[80]. Rabbits shot to a Team in Gorse. Shooting to Beagles described—[81]. Markers necessary with wild Spaniels.—[82]. Cover beat with wildest Dogs before shot in. Woodcocks.—[83]. Old Sportsmen prefer mute Spaniels.—[84]. Babblers best in some Countries. Cock-shooting in Albania.—[85]. Hog and deer in ditto.—[86]. Glorious month’s sport in the Morea.—[87]. Handy old Setters capital in light cover. Attention necessary when first entered.—[88]. C——e’s Pointers as good in cover as on the stubble.—[89]. Pointer that ran to opposite side of Thicket to flush Game towards Gun.—[90]. Water Spaniels, how broken.—[91]. Shepherd’s Forward Signal best for Water Retrievers.—[92]. Wildfowl reconnoitred with Telescope.—[93]. Qualities required in Water Retriever. In note, Poachers in Snow. Beast or man of one uniform colour easily detected.—[94]. Ducks emit a tolerable scent—“Flint” and Mr. C——e’s Setter.—[95]. Steady Spaniels in Rice Lakes.

“DEAD.”—“SEEK.”—SIGNALS.

34. When your young dog is tolerably well advanced in the lessons which you have been advised to practise, hide a piece of bread or biscuit. Say “Dead, dead.” Call him to you. ([44].) Let him remain by you for nearly a minute or two. Then say “Find,” or “Seek.” Accompany him in his search. By your actions and gestures make him fancy you are yourself looking about for something, for dogs are observing, one might say, imitative, creatures.[10] Stoop and move your right hand to and fro near the ground. Contrive that he shall come upon the bread, and reward him by permitting him to eat it.

35. After a little time (a few days I mean), he will show the greatest eagerness on your saying, at any unexpected moment, “Dead.” He will connect the word with the idea that there is something very desirable concealed near him, and he will be all impatience to be off and find it; but make him first come to you, (for reason, see [269].)—Keep him half a minute.—Then say “Find,” and, without your accompanying him, he will search for what you have previously hidden. Always let him be encouraged to perseverance by discovering something acceptable.

36. Unseen by him, place the rewards (one at a time), in different parts of the room,—under the rug or carpet, and more frequently on a chair, a table, or a low shelf. He will be at a loss in what part of the room to search. Assist him by a motion of your arm and hand. A wave of the right arm and hand to the right, will soon show him that he is to hunt to the right, as he will find there. The corresponding wave of the left hand and arm to the left, will explain to him, that he is to make a cast to the left. The underhand bowler’s swing of the right hand and arm, will show that he is to hunt in a forward direction.[11] Your occasionally throwing the delicacy (in the direction you wish him to take), whilst waving your hand, will aid in making him comprehend the signal. You may have noticed how well, by watching the action of a boy’s arm, his little cur judges towards what point to run for the expected stone.

37. When the hidden object is near you, but between you and the dog, make him come towards you to seek for it, beckoning him with your right hand. When he is at a distance at the “Drop,” if you are accustomed to recompense him for good behaviour, you can employ this signal to make him rise and run towards you for his reward, (and, according to my judgment, he should always join you after the “down charge,” [271]). By these means you will thus familiarise him with a very useful signal; for that signal will cause him to approach you in the field, when you have made a circuit to head him at his point (knowing that birds will then be lying somewhere between you and him), and want him to draw nearer to the birds and you, to show you exactly where they are. This some may call a superfluous refinement, but I hope you will consider it a very killing accomplishment, and being easily taught, it were a pity to neglect it. When a Setter is employed in cock-shooting, the advantage of using this signal is very apparent. While the dog is steadily pointing, it enables the sportsman to look for a favourable opening, and, when he has posted himself to his satisfaction, to sign to the Setter (or if out of sight tell him), to advance and flush the bird: when, should the sportsman have selected his position with judgment, he will generally get a shot. I have seen this method very successfully adopted in America, where the forests are usually so dense that cocks are only found on the outskirts in the underwood.

LOOKING FOR INSTRUCTIONS.

38. After a little time he will regularly look to you for directions. Encourage him to do so; it will make him hereafter, when he is in the field, desirous of hunting under your eye, and induce him to look to you, in a similar manner, for instructions in what direction he is to search for game. Observe how a child watches its mother’s eye; so will a dog watch yours, when he becomes interested in your movements, and finds that you frequently notice him.

BECKON.—“CARE.”

39. Occasionally, when he approaches any of the spots where the bread lies hidden, say “Care,” and slightly raise your right hand. He will quickly consider this word, or signal, as an intimation that he is near the object of his search.

40. Never deceive him in any of these words and signs, and never disappoint him of the expected reward. Praise and caress him for good conduct; rate him for bad. Make it a rule throughout the whole course of his education, out of doors as fully as within, to act upon this system. You will find that caresses and substantial rewards are far greater incentives to exertion than any fears of punishment.

41. Your pup having become a tolerable proficient in these lessons, you may beneficially extend them by employing the word “Up,” as a command that he is to sniff high in the air to find the hidden bread or meat, lying, say on a shelf, or on the back of a sofa. He will, comparatively speaking, be some time in acquiring a knowledge of the meaning of the word, and many would probably term it an over-refinement in canine education; but I must own I think you will act judiciously, if you teach it perfectly in the initiatory lessons; for the word “Up,” if well understood, will frequently save your putting on the puzzle-peg. For this you would be obliged to employ, should your dog prove disobedient and be acquiring the execrable habit of “raking” as it is termed, instead of searching for the delicious effluvia with his nose carried high in the air. Colonel Hawker much recommends the puzzle-peg, but I confess I would not fetter the dog by using it, unless compelled by his hereditary propensity to hunt-foot.

“UP.” —NOSE CARRIED HIGH.

42. Whenever birds can be sought for in the wind, the dog should thus hunt the field (and the higher he carries his nose the better), for, independently of the far greater chance of finding them, they will allow the dog to come much nearer, than when he approaches them by the foot: but of this more anon. ([185], [186].)

43. Setters and Pointers naturally hunt with their noses sufficiently close to the ground,—they want elevating rather than depressing. Notwithstanding, you will do well to show your pupil a few times out of doors, how to work out a scent, by dragging a piece of bread unperceived by him down wind through grass, and then letting him “foot” it out. Try him for a few yards at first; you can gradually increase the length of the drag. You must not, however, practise this initiatory lesson too frequently, lest you give him the wretched custom of pottering.

OLD-FASHIONED ENGLISH SETTER,—RETRIEVERS, ONE A CROSS WITH BLOODHOUND.
Heel.—“A backward low wave of the right hand.”—Par. [44].

[Larger image] (208 kB)

“HEEL.”—“GONE.”

44. The word “Heel,” and a backward low wave of the right hand and arm to the rear, (the reverse of the underhand cricket-bowler’s swing,) will, after a few times, bring the dog close behind you. Keep him there a while and pat him, but do not otherwise reward him. The object of the order was to make him instantly give up hunting, and come to your heels. This signal cannot be substituted for the “beckon.” The one is an order always obeyed with reluctance (being a command to leave off hunting), whereas the “beckon” is merely an instruction in what direction to beat, and will be attended to with delight. The signal “heel,” however, when given immediately after loading, is an exception; for the instructions about “Dead,” in [xi]. of paragraph 141, will show that without your speaking, it may be made to impart the gratifying intelligence of your having killed. See also [277].

45. To teach him to attach a meaning to the word “Gone,” or “Away,” or “Flown,”[12] (select which you will, but do not ring the changes,) you may now rub a piece of meat (if you have no one but your servant to scold you) in some place where the dog is accustomed frequently to find, and when he is sniffing at the place say “Gone,” or “Away.” This he will, after some trials, perceive to be an intimation that it is of no use to continue hunting for it.

46. You will greatly facilitate his acquiring the meaning of the command “Fence,” or “Ware fence,” if, from time to time, as he is quitting the room through the open door or garden window, you restrain him by calling out that word.

“WARE FENCE.”

47. Whenever, indeed, you wish him to desist from doing anything, call out “Ware,” (pronounced “War”), as it will expedite his hereafter understanding the terms, “Ware sheep,” “Ware chase,” and “Ware lark.” The last expression to be used when he is wasting his time upon the scent of anything but game—a fault best cured by plenty of birds being killed to him. However, the simple word “No,” omitting “Chase” or “Fence,” might be substituted advantageously for “Ware.” All you want him to do is to desist from a wrong action. That sharp sound,—and when necessary it can be clearly thundered out,—cannot be misunderstood.

ACCUSTOMED TO COUPLES.

48. That your young dog may not hereafter resist the couples, yoke him occasionally to a stronger dog, and for the sake of peace, and in the name of all that is gallant, let it be to the one of the other sex who appears to be the greatest favourite.

49. When he is thus far advanced in his education, and tolerably obedient, which he will soon become if you are consistent, and patient, yet strict, you can, in further pursuance of Astley’s plan, associate him in his lessons with a companion. Should you be breaking in another youngster, (though one at a time you will probably find quite enough, especially if it be your laudable wish to give him hereafter a well-confirmed scientific range,) they can now be brought together for instruction. You must expect to witness the same jealousy which they would exhibit on the stubble. Both will be anxious to hunt for the bread, and in restraining them alternately from so doing, you exact the obedience which you will require hereafter in the field, when in their natural eagerness they will endeavour, unless you properly control them, to take the point of birds from one another; or, in their rivalry, run over the taint of a wounded bird, instead of collectedly and perseveringly working out the scent. You can throw a bit of toast and make them “Toho” it, and then let the dog you name take it. In the same way you can let each alternately search for a hidden piece, after both have come up to you, on your saying “Dead.” I would also advise you to accustom each dog to “drop,” without any command from you, the moment he sees that the other is down.

50. Those lessons will almost ensure their hereafter instantly obeying, and nearly instantly comprehending the object of the signal to “back” any dog which may be pointing game.

51. When you take out two youngsters for exercise, while they are romping about, suddenly call one into “heel.” After a time again send him off on his gambols. Whistle to catch the eye of the other, and signal to him to join you. By working them thus alternately, while they are fresh and full of spirits, you will habituate them to implicit obedience. When the birds are wild, and you are anxious to send a basket of game to a friend, it is very satisfactory to be able merely by a sign, without uttering a word, to bring the other dogs into “heel,” leaving the ground to the careful favourite. Teach the present lesson well, and you go far towards attaining the desired result.

52. I trust you will not object to the minutiæ of these initiatory lessons, and fancy you have not time to attend to them. By teaching them well, you will gain time,—much time,—and the time that is of most value to you as a sportsman; for when your dog is regularly hunting to your gun, his every faculty ought to be solely devoted to finding birds, and his undisturbed intellects exclusively given to aid you in bagging them, instead of being bewildered by an endeavour to comprehend novel signals or words of command. I put it to you as a sportsman, whether he will not have the more delight and ardour in hunting, the more he feels that he understands your instructions? and, further, I ask you, whether he will not be the more sensitively alive to the faintest indication of a haunt, and more readily follow it up to a sure find, if he be unembarrassed by any anxiety to make out what you mean, and be in no way alarmed at the consequences of not almost instinctively understanding your wishes?

THE CHECK—‘HOLD HARD!’

CHECKCORD DESCRIBED.

53. In all these lessons, and those which follow in the field, the checkcord will wonderfully assist you. Indeed, it may be regarded as the instructor’s right hand. It can be employed so mildly as not to intimidate the most gentle, and it can, without the aid of any whip, be used with such severity, or, I should rather say, perseverance, as to conquer the most wild and headstrong, and these are sure to be dogs of the greatest travel and endurance. The cord may be from ten to twenty-five[13] yards long, according to the animal’s disposition, and may be gradually shortened as he gets more and more under command. Even when it is first employed you can put on a shorter cord, if you perceive that he is becoming tired. In thick stubble, especially if cut with a sickle, the drag will be greater, far greater than when the cord glides over heather. The cord may be of the thickness of what some call strong lay-cord, but made of twelve threads. Sailors would know it by the name of log-line or cod-line. To save the end from fraying it can be whipped with thread, which is better than tying a knot because it is thus less likely to become entangled.

SPANIELS BROKEN IN.

54. Hunted with such a cord, the most indomitable dog, when he is perfectly obedient to the “drop,” is nearly as amenable to command, as if the end of the line were in the breaker’s hand. By no other means can

SPANIELS

be quickly broken in. The general object of the trainer is to restrain them from ranging at a distance likely to spring game out of gun-shot, and to make them perfect to the “down charge.” If one of these high-spirited animals will not range close when called to by whistle or name, the breaker gets hold of the cord and jerks it; this makes the dog come in a few paces; another jerk or two makes him approach closer, and then the breaker, by himself retiring with his face towards the spaniel, calling out his name (or whistling), and occasionally jerking the cord, makes him quite submissive, and more disposed to obey on future occasions.

55. In training a large team it is of much advantage to the keeper to have a lad to rate, and, when necessary, give the skirters a taste of the lash, in short, to act as whipper-in. The keeper need not then carry a whip, or at least often use it, which will make his spaniels all the more willing to hunt close to him.

J. M.

A FOUR-LEGGED WHIPPER-IN.—Par. [56].

[Larger image] (225 kB)

FOUR-LEGGED WHIPPER-IN.

56. Lord A——r’s head gamekeeper was singularly aided:—he possessed a four-legged whipper-in. A few years ago while Mr. D——s (M.P. for a South Eastern County) was with a shooting party at his Lordship’s, the keeper brought into the field a brace of powerful retrievers, and a team of spaniels, among which were two that had never been shot over. On the first pheasant being killed, all the old spaniels dropped to shot, but one of the young ones rushed forward and mouthed the bird. The person who had fired ran on to save it, but the keeper called aloud, and requested him not to move. The man then made a signal to one of the retrievers to go. He did so instantly, but, instead of meddling with the bird, he seized the spaniel, lifted him up, and shook him well. The moment the pup could escape, he came howling to the “heels” of the keeper, and lay down among his companions. The keeper then confessed that a couple of the spaniels had never been shot to,—but he confidently assured the sportsmen, they would see before the day was over, that the pups behaved fully as steadily as the old dogs, and explained to the party, how the retriever did all the disagreeable work, and indeed, nearly relieved him of every trouble in breaking in the youngsters. On the next few shots this novel schoolmaster was again deputed to show his pupils that he would not allow his special duties as a retriever to be interfered with. Both the young dogs, having been thus well chastised, became more careful,—made only partial rushes to the front, when a recollection of their punishment, and a dread of their four-footed tutor brought them slinking back to their older companions. As the keeper had averred, they soon learned their lesson completely,—gave up all thoughts of chasing after shot, and quietly crouched down with the other dogs.

RETRIEVER MADE BREAKER.

57. I can easily imagine that it was a feeling of jealousy, which first prompted the retriever to thrash some spaniel who was endeavouring to carry off a bird, and that the clever keeper encouraged him in doing so, instantly perceiving the value of such assistance. It is worth a consideration whether it would not be advisable to train the retriever employed with a team to give this assistance. A dog of a quarrelsome disposition could be taught, by your urging him, to seize any spaniel who might be mouthing a bird, in the same manner you would set on a young terrier to fly at a rat.

58. Doubtless it is the highest training to teach a team to “down charge,” but most breakers make their spaniels come into “heel,” or rather gather close around them, (by the word “round”) whenever a gun is discharged. This plan, though so injudicious in the case of pointers or setters, is but little objectionable in the case of spaniels, for spaniels in their small sweep inwards, are not likely to spring game while the guns are unloaded. It certainly possesses this merit, that it is readily taught to puppies, (with the aid of a whipper-in) by the trainer’s giving them some delicacy on their rejoining him. It may be urged, too, that the method much removes any necessity for noise in calling to a dog,—whereas, with a team trained to the “down charge,” however highly broken, it will occasionally happen that the keeper (or assistant) has to rate some excited skirter for not instantly “dropping.” Moreover, in thick cover an infraction of the irksome rule to “down charge” may sometimes escape detection, which might lead to future acts of insubordination. The lamented Prince Albert’s team of Clumbers “down charge,” but the greatest attention could be given, and was given to them. They were admirably broken, and I might add, were shot over by a first-rate hand.

SPANIELS BROKEN IN.

59. When exercising young spaniels it is a good plan to habituate them, even as puppies, never to stray further from you than about twenty yards. With them, even more than with other kinds of dogs trained for the gun, great pains should be taken to prevent their having the opportunity of “self-hunting.” If it is wished to break from hare, the method to be followed is mentioned in [334], &c., for with spaniels as with setters (or pointers) it is always advisable to drag them back to the spot from which they started in pursuit.

60. Occasionally you may see a country blacksmith, when preparing to shoe the hind-legs of a cart-horse that appears disposed to make a disagreeable use of his heels, twist the long hair at the end of his tail,—raise the foot that is to be shod,—pass the twisted hair round the leg immediately above the hock, and by these means press the tendon close to the bone. The tail assists in retaining the leg in position, and thus for the time the limb is rendered powerless. Acting much upon this coercive principle, but discarding the aid of the tail, some breakers slightly confine a hind-leg of their most unruly spaniels with a soft bandage, shifting it from one leg to the other about every hour. Possibly a loop of vulcanized india-rubber, being elastic, would best answer the purpose. Restrained in this manner a dog is less likely to tumble about, and become injured, than if one of his fore-legs had been passed through his collar. Other breakers when hunting many couples together, fasten a belt with a few pounds of shot round the necks of the wildest. But the sooner such adjuncts to discipline can be safely discarded the better; for “brushing” a close cover is severe work. Gorse is the most trying. Its prickles are so numerous and fine, that the ears and eyes of every spaniel hunted in it ought to be separately examined on returning home, and well bathed in warm water. Their eyes are peculiarly liable to be injured by dust and gravel from their hunting so close to the ground.

HUNTED IN GORSE.

61. To give young spaniels sufficient courage to face the most entangled cover, a judicious trainer will occasionally introduce them to thick brakes, or gorse, early in the morning, or in the evening, when the noise of his approach will have made the pheasants feeding in the neighbourhood, run far into it for shelter. The effluvia of the birds will then so excite the young dogs, especially if cheered with good companionship, (which always creates emulation,) that they will utterly disregard the pricks and scratches of the strongest furze.

62. If the time of year will permit it, they should be shown game when about nine or ten months old. At a more advanced age they would be less amenable to control. Happily the example of a riotous pup will not be so detrimental to the discipline of the rest of the team, as the example of an ill-conducted companion would be to a pointer (or setter), for the influence of thoroughly steady spaniels makes the pup curtail his range sooner than might be expected. Finding that he is not followed by his associates he soon rejoins them.

63. A judicious breaker will regard perfection in the “drop” ([23] to [26]) as the main-spring of his educational system. He will teach his young spaniels to “seek dead,” ([34], [35], [43]) where directed by signs of the hand. He will instruct them in “fetching,” ([109], [107], &c.) with the view to some of them hereafter retrieving. He will accustom them to hunt hedge-rows, and light open copses,—because always under his eye,—before taking them into closer cover. Nor until they are under some command, and well weaned from noticing vermin and small birds, will he allow them to enter gorse or strong thickets,—and then he will never neglect (though probably he will have used them before) to attach bells of different sounds to the collars of his several pupils (one to each), so that his ear may at all times detect any truant straying beyond bounds, and thus enable him to rate the delinquent by name. In this manner, he establishes the useful feeling elsewhere spoken of ([383]), that whether he be within or out of sight, he is equally aware of every impropriety that is committed.

64. Young spaniels, when they have been steadily broken in not to hunt too far ahead on the instructor’s side of the hedge, may be permitted to beat on the other;—and this when only one person is shooting, is generally their most useful position, for they are thus more likely to drive the game towards the gun.

65. If a keeper is hunting the team, while you and a friend are beating narrow belts or strips of wood,[14] should you and he be placed, as is usual, on the outside, a little ahead of the keeper (one to his right, the other to his left), you would much aid him in preventing the young spaniels from ranging wildly, were you to turn your face towards him whenever you saw any of them getting too far in advance, for they will watch the guns as much as they will him. They should never range further than thirty yards from the gun.

EXPERIENCED SPANIELS.

66. Among spaniels the great advantage of age and experience is more apparent than in partridge-dogs. A young spaniel cannot keep to a pheasant’s tail like an old one. He may push the bird for forty or fifty yards if judiciously managed. After that he is almost sure from impatience, either to lose it, or rush in and flush out of shot, whereas an old cocker, who has had much game shot over him, is frequently knowing enough to slacken his pace, instead of increasing it, when he first touches on birds, apparently quite sensible that he ought to give the gun time to approach, before he presses to a flush.

DIFFICULT TO BREAK.

67. Even good spaniels, however well-bred, if they have not had great experience, generally road too fast. Undeniably they are difficult animals to educate, and it requires much watchfulness, perseverance, and attention at an early age, so to break in a team of young ones that they shall keep within gun range, without your being compelled to halloo or whistle to them. But some few are yet more highly trained.

68. Mr. N——n, when in France, had a lively, intelligent, liver and white cocker, which would work busily all day long within gun-shot; and which possessed the singular accomplishment of steadily pointing all game that lay well, and of not rushing in until the sportsman had come close to him. But this is a case of high breaking more curious than useful, for spaniels are essentially springers, not pointers, and the little animal must frequently have been lost sight of in cover. The Messrs. W——e, alluded to in [551], had also a cocker that regularly pointed. Our grandfathers used to apply the term springers solely to large spaniels,—never to the Duke of Marlborough’s small breed, which was greatly prized.

TRUE NOSES.—COVER SHOOTING.

69. A dog is generally most attached to that description of sport, and soonest recognises the scent of that game, to which he has principally been accustomed in youth. He will through life hunt most diligently where he first had the delight of often finding. The utility therefore is obvious of introducing spaniels at an early age to close covers and hedge-rows, and setters and pointers to heather and stubble.

70. In spaniels, feathered sterns and long ears are much admired, but obviously the latter must suffer in thick underwood. The chief requisite in all kinds of spaniels, is, that they be good finders, and have noses so true that they will never overrun a scent. Should they do so when footing an old cock-pheasant, the chances are, that he will double back on the exact line by which he came. They should be high-mettled,—as regardless of the severest weather as of the most punishing cover, and ever ready to spring into the closest thicket the moment a pointed finger gives the command.

71. A comprehension of the signal made by the finger, (which is far neater than the raising of the hand described in [34], but not so quickly understood) might with advantage be imparted to all dogs trained for the gun, in order to make them hunt close exactly where directed. It is usually taught by pointing with the fore-finger of the right hand to pieces of biscuit, previously concealed, near easily recognised tufts of grass, weeds, &c. It is beautiful to see how correctly, promptly, yet quietly, some spaniels will work in every direction thus indicated.

COVER SHOOTING.

72. Breasting a strong cover with cockers, is more suited to young, than to old men. The gun must follow rapidly, and stick close when a dog is on the road of feather. A shot will then infallibly be obtained, if a good dog be at work; for the more closely a bird is pressed, the hotter gets the scent. If a pheasant found in thick cover on marshy ground near water,—a locality they much like in hot weather,—is not closely pushed, he will so twist, and turn, and double upon old tracks, that none but the most experienced dogs will be able to stick to him.

73. The preceding observations respecting spaniels apply to all descriptions employed on land-service, whether of the strong kind, the Sussex breed and the Clumber, or the smallest cockers, Blenheims and King Charles’.[15] But whether they are to be trained not to hunt flick,[16] (the most difficult part of their tuition, and in which there is generally most failure), and whether they shall be bred to give tongue, or run mute, will depend much upon the nature of the country to be hunted, and yet more upon the taste of the proprietor. No fixed rules can be given for a sport that varies so much as cover shooting.

BELLS IN COVER.

74. Of the large kind, most sportsmen will think a couple and a half a sufficient number to hunt at a time. Certainly one of them should retrieve: and they ought to be well broken in not to notice flick. These dogs are most esteemed when they run mute. If they do, they must be hunted with bells in very thick cover; but the less bells are employed the better, for the tinkling sound, in a greater or smaller degree, annoys all game. Such dogs, when good, are very valuable.

75. I once shot over a team of Clumber spaniels belonging to Mr. D——z. The breed (the Duke of Newcastle’s, taking their name from one of his seats), are mostly white with a little lemon colour, have large sensible heads, thick, short legs, silky coats, carry their sterns low, and hunt perfectly mute. The team kept within twenty or twenty-five yards of the keeper, were trained to acknowledge Rabbits, as well as all kinds of game; and in the country Mr. D——z was then shooting over afforded capital sport. One of the spaniels was taught to retrieve. He would follow to any distance, and seldom failed to bring. A regular retriever was, however, generally taken out with them. Mr. D——z told me that they required very judicious management, and encouragement rather than severity, as undue whipping soon made them timid. They are of a delicate constitution. He rather surprised me by saying that his spaniels from working quietly and ranging close, (therefore, alarming the birds less,) procured him far more shots in turnips than his pointers; and he had three that looked of the right sort. He explained matters, however, by telling me, that it was his practice to make a circuit round the outskirts of a turnip or potato field before hunting the inner parts. This of course greatly tended to prevent the birds breaking ([401]). A juvenile sportsman would rejoice in the services of the spaniels, for many a rabbit would they procure for him without the aid of powder and shot.

CLUMBERS.
“All the Clumbers dropped instantly.”—Par. [76].

[Larger image] (198 kB)

76. When Colonel M——, who died in Syria, was stationed with his troop of Horse Artillery at Pontefract, he was asked to shoot partridges at Lord P——n’s seat in Yorkshire. On meeting the gamekeeper, according to appointment, he found him surrounded by a team of Clumber spaniels. Colonel M——, in some surprise at seeing no setters or pointers, remarked that he had expected some partridge shooting. “I know it,” answered the man, “and I hope to show you some sport.” To the inquiry why one of the spaniels was muzzled, the keeper said that his master had threatened to shoot it should it again give tongue, and, as it possessed a particularly fine nose, he (the keeper) was anxious not to lose it. They walked on, and soon the man told M—— to be prepared, as the spaniels were feathering. A covey rose. The Colonel, who was a good shot, killed right and left. All the Clumbers dropped instantly. When he was reloading, the keeper begged him to say which of the dogs should retrieve the game. M—— pointed to a broad-headed dog lying in the middle, when the keeper directed by name the spaniel so favoured to be off. It quickly fetched one of the birds. The keeper then asked M—— to choose some other dog to bring the remaining bird—a runner. He did so, and the animal he selected to act as retriever, performed the duty very cleverly; the rest of the team remaining quite still, until its return.

The Colonel had capital sport, killing nearly twenty brace, and the dogs behaved beautifully throughout the day. When afterwards relating the circumstances, he observed that, although an old sportsman, he had seldom been so gratified, as it was a novel scene to him, who had not been accustomed to shoot over spaniels.

TEAM OF COCKERS.

77. Of small cockers, three couples appear ample to form a team. Some teams of small springers greatly exceed this number, and many sportsmen shoot over more than a couple and a half of the larger spaniels; but it is a question whether, in the generality of cases, the gun would not benefit by the number being diminished rather than increased. The smaller in number the team, the greater is the necessity that none of them should stick too close to “heel.” The difficulty is to make them hunt far enough, and yet not too far. At least one of the number should retrieve well. If they give tongue, it ought to be in an intelligible manner; softly, when they first come on the haunt of a cock, but making the cover ring again with their joyous melody, when once the bird is flushed. A first-rate cocker will never deceive by opening upon an old haunt, nor yet find the gun unprepared by delaying to give due warning before he flushes the bird. When cocks are abundant, some teams are broken, not only to avoid flick, but actually not to notice a pheasant, or anything beside woodcock. Hardly any price would tempt a real lover of cock-shooting, in a cocking country, to part with such a team. Hawker terms the sport, “the fox-hunting of shooting.” Some sportsmen kill water-hens to young spaniels to practise them in forcing their way through entangled covers, and get them well in hand and steady against the all-important cocking season.

STRENGTH OF TEAM.

78. When a regular retriever can be constantly employed with spaniels, of course it will be unnecessary to make any of them fetch game, (certainly never to lift anything which falls out of bounds), though all the team should be taught to “seek dead.” This is the plan pursued by the Duke of Newcastle’s keepers, and obviously it is the soundest and easiest practice, for it must always be more or less difficult to make a spaniel keep within his usual hunting limits, who is occasionally encouraged to pursue wounded game, at his best pace, to a considerable distance.

79. Other teams are broken no more than to keep within range, being allowed to hunt all kinds of game, and also rabbits; they, however, are restricted from pursuing wounded flick further than fifty or sixty yards. Where rabbits are abundant, and outlying, a team thus broken affords lively sport,—nothing escapes them.

80. In the large woods that traverse parts of Kent and Sussex, a kind of hunting-shooting is followed, that affords more fun, where there are plenty of rabbits and but few burrows, than might at first be imagined. The dogs employed are the smallest beagles that can be obtained. The little creatures stick to a hare, rabbit, or wounded pheasant with greater pertinacity than most spaniels, probably because they (the beagles) are slower, and hunt so low. Three or four couples make most animating music in the woodlands, and procure many shots, but they awfully disturb game. Mr. D——z has gorse covers through which openings or rides are cut. He shoots rabbits in them to a team of beagles trained not to notice hare. The burrows are ferreted the preceding day, and regularly stopped. The sport is excellent and most animating. Plenty of snap shots. An old buck rabbit once or twice hunted becomes extremely cunning. He is soon on the move, and will work round beyond the dogs, so as to double back upon the ground already hunted.

WILD SPANIELS.—Par. [81].

[Larger image] (218 kB)

HUNTING-SHOOTING.

81. Wild spaniels, though they may show you most cock, will get you fewest shots, unless you have well-placed markers. There are sportsmen who like to take out one steady dog to range close to them, and a couple of wild ones to hunt on the flanks, one on each side, expressly that the latter may put up birds for the markers to take note of.

82. Mr. O——n, who is devoted to shooting, acts upon this system, but upon a more enlarged scale. Having previously posted his markers, he has each cover, immediately before he shoots it, well hunted by the wildest of the dogs: he then takes a steady animal to the several spots pointed out, and is thus enabled to kill annually thrice as many cock as any other man in the country. The aptness of this bird, when a second time flushed, to return ([397]) to its old haunt, and when again put up to take wing in the direction of its first flight, much tends to its destruction.

83. An old sportsman knows mute spaniels to be most killing; a young one may prefer those which give tongue, (if true from the beginning owning nothing but game,) because, though undeniably greater disturbers of a cover, they are more cheerful and animating. The superiority of the former is, however, apparent on a still calm day, when the least noise will make the game steal away long before the gun gets within shot. But it is not so in all countries.

84. Wild as is the woodcock with us after it has recovered from its fatiguing migratory flight, and been a few times disturbed, there is not, perhaps, naturally, so tame a game-bird, and one more difficult to flush in close cover where rarely alarmed. Officers quartered at Corfu frequently cross in the morning to the Albanian coast,—a two hours’ sail or pull,—and return the same evening, having bagged from fifty to sixty couples to half-a-dozen good guns. Their boat is directed to meet them at some head-land, towards which they shoot. An attendant to carry the game, and a relay of ammunition, &c., is told off to each sportsman, and he of the party who best knows the country, is chosen captain for the day, and walks in the centre of the line, the rest conforming to his movements. There is generally an agreement to halt for a minute, but not a second more, to allow a man to look for any cock he may have knocked over; therefore the possessor of a first-rate retriever is an envied character. The strength and density of the bush occasionally there encountered, is more than we in England can imagine: and in such situations, experience has shown the sportsmen the superiority of spaniels which give tongue. On hearing the warning cheerful music, the line halts for a few seconds, as, notwithstanding all the noise, some little time may pass before the cock is sprung, for he is frequently so protected by a wall of impervious thicket, (though sure to have a clear opening overhead for unimpeded flight) that the keenest dogs cannot immediately get at him.

85. Although the country abounds with deer and boar, it is almost needless to observe, that the cock-shooters are too noisy a party often to bag such noble game, unless some ambitious and bold man (for being alone he risks having a long barrel covertly pointed at him) take up a favourable position far in advance. Captain Best, a fellow-student of mine, about a dozen years ago, gives a spirited account of this shooting, in his entertaining book, entitled “Excursions in Albania.”

86. In the northern part of the Morea, about twenty-five miles from Patras (near Ali Tchelepi, a dilapidated monastery inhabited by only three monks—near Monolada, and Pera Metochi), Mr. O——n and Captain B——y, between the 14th of January, 1843, and the 11th of the following month (both days inclusive), killed 862 woodcocks, 11 hares, 11 duck, and 11 snipe. Not bad sport!

COVERS.

87. In very thick covers it is obvious, the height of setters being greatly against them, that spaniels are far preferable: but in light covers, and when the leaves are off the trees, handy old setters (if white, all the better) that will readily confine themselves to a restricted range, and will flush their game when ordered ([iv]. and [vii]. of 141 and [284]) afford quite as much sport, if not more. Setters do not, to the same degree, alarm birds; and there is, also, this advantage, that they can be employed on all occasions, excepting in low gorse or the closest thickets, whereas spaniels, from their contracted “beat,” are nearly useless in the open when game is scarce. You will be prepared, when first you hunt a setter in cover, to sacrifice much of your sport. There must be noise; for it is essential to make him at once thoroughly understand the very different “beat” required of him, and this can only be effected by constantly checking and rating him, whenever he ranges beyond the prescribed limits. He should hunt slowly and carefully to the right and left, and never be much in advance of the guns. In a short time he will comprehend matters, if you are so forbearing and judicious as invariably to call him away from every point made the least out of bounds. A less severe test of your consistency will not suffice. The few first days will either make or mar him as a cover-dog. You must naturally expect that hunting him much in cover, will injure his range in the open, and make him too fond of hedge-rows.

88. But there is a man in Yorkshire, who will not willingly admit this. C——e, Sir George A——e’s gamekeeper,—and a good one he is,—for he has a particularly difficult country to protect, one intersected with “rights of way” in every direction,—makes his pointers as freely hunt the cover as the open. You never lose them, for they are sure to make their appearance when they think they have given you ample time to go to them if you choose. This cover work does not the least unsteady them, but it is right to state, that C——is an unusually good breaker, and works his dogs with singular temper and patience. They are very attached to him, and appear to listen anxiously to what he says when he talks to them,—which, I own, he does more than I recommend.

89. Pointers, however, are manifestly out of place in strong cover, though an unusually high-couraged one may occasionally be found, who will dash forward in defiance of pricks and scratches; but it is not fair to expect it. In a very light cover I have often shot over one belonging to a relation of mine, which was so clever, that when I came close to her as she was pointing, she would frequently run round to the other side of the thicket, and then rush in to drive the game towards me. This killing plan had in no way been taught her; she adopted it solely of her own sagacity. Having been much hunted in cover when young, she was so fond of it ([69]) as to be, comparatively speaking, quite unserviceable on the stubbles.

WATER SPANIELS.

WATER SPANIELS, (or Water Retrievers.)

90. A young water spaniel might, with advantage, occasionally be indulged with a duck-hunt in warm weather. It would tend to make him quick in the water, and observant. The finishing lessons might conclude with your shooting the bird and obliging him to retrieve it. He should be made handy to your signals ([iv]. to [vii]. and [x]. of 141), so as to hunt the fens and marshes, and “seek dead” exactly where you may wish.

91. This obedience to the hand is particularly required; for when the spaniel is swimming he is on a level with the bird, and therefore is not so likely to see it,—especially if there is a ripple on the water,—as you are, who probably may be standing many feet above him on the shore. As you may frequently, while he is retrieving, have occasion to direct his movements when at a considerable distance from him, you probably would find it more advantageous to teach him the forward signal used by shepherds ([143]), than the one described in [iv]. of 141.

92. A water spaniel should also be taught to fetch ([96], [98], [106] to [109]),—be accustomed to follow quietly close to your heels,—be broken in, not to the “down charge” ([27]), but to the “drop” ([23] to [26]), the instant you signal to him, while you are noiselessly stalking the wild-fowl previously reconnoitered, with the aid of your Dollond, from some neighbouring height; nor should he stir a limb, however long he and you may have to await, ensconced behind a favouring bush, the right moment for the destructive raking discharge of your first barrel, to be followed by the less murderous, but still effective flying shot. On hearing the report, it is his duty to dash instantly into the water, and secure the slain as rapidly as possible.

IRISH WATER SPANIEL.
“Our good Irish friend.”—Par. [95].

[Larger image] (225 kB)

93. A really good water retriever is a scarce and valuable animal. He should be neither white nor black, because the colours are too conspicuous, especially the former, (a hint by-the-bye for your own costume);[17] he should be perfectly mute; of a patient disposition, though active in the pursuit of birds; of so hardy a constitution as not to mind the severest cold,—therefore no coddling while he is young near a fire,—and possess what many are deficient in, viz., a good nose: consequently, a cross that will improve his nose, yet not decrease his steadiness, is the great desideratum in breeding. He should swim rapidly, for wild-fowl that are only winged, will frequently escape from the quickest dog, if they have plenty of sea-room and deep water. (See also [113], [553], [567].)

DUCK SHOOTING.

94. Wildfowl emit a stronger scent than is, I believe, generally supposed. At Mr. G——r’s, in Surrey, Mr. L——g was shooting one day last season, when his pointer “Flint” drew for some time towards the river, and brought the sportsmen to the stump of an old tree. They could see nothing, and thought the dog must be standing at a moorhen; but on one of the beaters trying with a stick, out flew a mallard like a shot from a gun. As Mr. L——g levelled his tubes, it is unnecessary to observe that it fell; but probably it would have been lost had not “Flint,” when encouraged, jumped into the water and brought the bird to land. A Mr. C——e, living near Edinburgh, whom I have the pleasure of knowing, has a white setter that is a capital hand at finding ducks, and sets them steadily.

WILD-RICE LAKES.

95. In the wild-rice lakes, as they are commonly called, of America, a brace of highly-trained spaniels will sometimes, on a windy day, afford you magnificent sport. The cover is so good that, if it is not often beaten, the birds will frequently get up singly, or only a couple at a time. The dogs should keep swimming about within gun-shot, while you are slowly and silently paddling, or probably poling your canoe through the most likely spots. Relays of spaniels are requisite, for it is fatiguing work. If, by any rare chance, you are situated where you can get much of this delightful shooting, and you are an enthusiast in training, it may be worth your while to consider whether there would not be an advantage in making the dogs perfect in the “down charge,” as they would then cease swimming the instant you fired. But this long digression about spaniels has led us away from your pup, which we assumed ([3]) to be a pointer or setter, very unlike our good Irish friend, well represented in the last engraving.

CHAPTER IV.

LESSONS IN “FETCHING.”—RETRIEVERS.

[96]. Lessons in “fetching” recommended.—[97]. Dog not taught to retrieve bringing dead Bird he had found.—[98]. Taught to deliver into your hand; never pick up a Bird yourself; Dog which often lost winged Birds she had lifted.—[99]. Colonel T——y.—[100]. Retriever killing one Bird in order to carry two.—[101]. “Fan’s” sagaciously bringing to firm ground Bird that had fallen in a swamp.—[102]. “Dove’s” spontaneously fetching one from River, though not accustomed to retrieve.—[103]. Retrievers taught to carry something soft; injudiciousness of employing a stone.—[104]. How encouraged to plunge into Water; evil of deceiving a Dog instanced.—[105]. Diving, how taught.—[106]. “Fetching” taught with a Pincushion: with a Bunch of Keys.—[107]. Made to deliver instantly.—[108]. Practised to carry things of the size and weight of a Hare.—[109]. “Fetching,” how taught at commencement.—[110]. Brace of Setters taught with an old bone.—[111]. “Fetching” often taught unskilfully.—[112]. Regular Retrievers taught to fetch Birds: to “foot” Rabbits and Winged Game.—[113]. Retriever observes when a Bird is struck: a quality particularly useful in a Water Retriever.—[114]. Pigeons and small Birds shot to Retrievers.—[115]. Injudiciousness of aiding a young Dog when Retrieving; makes him rely on Gun rather than his own Nose.—[116]. Fatigue of carrying Hare tempts young Retriever to drop it; taught to deliver quickly by rewards of hard boiled liver.—[117]. If he taste blood, put on Wire Snaffle; how made.—[118]. Retriever how taught to pursue faster; should commence to “road” slowly, but “follow up” rapidly.—[119]. Why Land Retrievers should “down charge.”—[120]. Some Retrievers may “run on shot,” but those for sale should “down charge.”—[121]. Fine retrieving instanced in “Ben.”—[122]. Anecdote showing his great sagacity.—[123]. Benefit derived from a Seton; another instance of “Ben’s” superior retrieving qualities.—[124]. With “Ben’s” good nose, certain advantage of “down charge.”—[125]. Retrievers not to be of a heavy build, yet strong and thick-coated.—[126]. Cross between a Newfoundland and Setter makes best Retriever; the real Newfoundland described.—[127]. Cross from heavy Setter best Retriever.—[128]. Most Dogs can be taught more or less to Retrieve.—[129]. Young Retriever to lift Woodcock and Landrail.—[130]. Retrievers never to kill Rats; lift vermin, or wounded Herons, &c.

DOG FETCHING BIRD.

96. Though you may not wish your young pointer (or setter) to perform the duties of a regular retriever, ([536]) still you would do well to teach him, whilst he is a puppy, to fetch and deliver into your hand anything soft you may occasionally throw for him, or leave behind you in some place where he will have observed you deposit it, while he is following at your heels. In a little time you can drop something without letting him see you, and afterwards send him back for it. A dog thus made, who is your intimate companion, becomes so conversant with every article of your apparel, and with whatever you usually carry about you, that, should you accidentally drop anything, the observant animal will be almost certain to recover it. On receiving your order to be “off and find” he will accurately retrace your footsteps for miles and miles, diligently hunting every yard of the ground. Of course, the distances to which you at first send your dog will be inconsiderable, and you should carefully avoid persevering too long at a time, lest he get sick of the lesson. Indeed, in all his lessons,—as well in-doors as out,—but particularly in this, let it be your aim to leave off at a moment when he has performed entirely to your satisfaction; that you may part the best of friends, and that the last impression made by the lesson may be pleasing as well as correct, from a grateful recollection of the caresses which he has received. In wild-duck shooting you may be in situations where you would be very glad if the dog would bring your bird; and when it is an active runner in cover, I fear you will be more anxious than I could wish ([322]) that the dog should “fetch.” It is probable that he will thus assist you if he be practised as I have just advised; and such instruction may lead, years hence, to his occasionally bringing you some dead bird which he may come across, and which you otherwise might have imagined you had missed, for its scent might be too cold, and consequently too changed, for the dog to have thought of regularly pointing it.

97. When I was a boy, I recollect seeing such an instance in Kent. As a great treat, I was permitted (but merely as a spectator) to accompany a first-rate shot, Mr. C——h, who was trying a gun he thought of purchasing for his keeper. The dogs soon came upon a covey. He killed with his first barrel, but apparently missed with his second. He found fault with the gun for not shooting strongly; and I well remember impertinently fancying,—but I dared not say so,—that perhaps he was as much to blame as the gun. Soon afterwards, to our mutual surprise, we saw one of the dogs trotting up with a bird, still warm, in its mouth; thus tacitly reproving me for not having done justice to Mr. C——h’s unerring eye and steady hand.

DELIVER INTO HAND.

98. Mark my having said, “deliver into your hand,” that your young dog may not be satisfied with only dropping, within your sight, any bird he may lift, and so, perhaps, leave it on the other side of a trout stream, as I have seen dogs do more than once, in spite of every persuasion and entreaty. With a young dog, who retrieves, never pick up a bird yourself, however close it may fall to you. Invariably, make him either deliver it into your hand or lay it at your feet. The former is by far the better plan. If the dog has at one moment to drop the bird at your will, he is likely to fancy himself privileged to drop it at another time for his own convenience. In other respects, too, the former is the safest method. I have a bitch now in my recollection, who frequently lost her master slightly winged birds, (which she had admirably recovered) by dropping them too soon on hearing the report of a gun, or coming on other game,—for off they ran, and fairly escaped, it being impracticable, by any encouragement, to induce her to seek for a bird she had once lifted.

99. This error, I mean that of allowing a wounded bird to regain its liberty, was once beautifully avoided by a pretty black retriever, belonging to Colonel T——y, a good sportsman and pleasant companion, who, not long since, told me the circumstance; and I am glad to be able, on such authority, to relate an anecdote evincing so much reflection and judgment, for I know not by what other terms to characterise the dog’s sagacity.

COLONEL T——Y’S VENUS.—FAN.

100. Colonel T——y’s avocations constantly take him from his neat bachelor’s cottage in Kent, to travel abroad. Shooting in Hungary he once knocked down two partridges at a shot,—one was killed outright, the other only slightly wounded. “Venus” soon hit off the trail of the latter,—quickly overtook it, and, while carrying it to her master, came upon the dead bird. She stopped, evidently greatly puzzled; and, after one or two trials, finding she could not take it up without permitting the escape of the winged bird, she considered a moment,—then, deliberately murdered it, by giving it a severe crunch, and afterwards brought away both together. It is due to the lady to observe that she is naturally as tender-mouthed as her name would imply her to be tender-hearted, and that this is the only known instance of her ever having wilfully injured any game.

101. Sometimes a dog’s sagacity will induce him, however little taught, to assist you in your hour of need; but you must not trust to this. An intimate friend of mine, shooting in Ireland to a pointer bitch that was totally unaccustomed to fetch and carry, but well instructed to seek for a dead bird, killed a snipe. It fell in soft, boggy ground, where he could not get at it to pick it up. After some vain efforts to approach it, he hied on the bitch, who was still steadily “pointing dead,” with “Fetch it, Fan; fetch it.” The bitch seemed for a moment puzzled at such an unusual proceeding, and looked round, inquisitively, once or twice, as if to say, “What can you mean?” Suddenly, my friend’s dilemma seemed to flash upon her. She walked on, took the bird, quite gently, in her mouth, and carried it to where the ground was firm; but not one inch further would she bring it, despite all the encouragement of her master, who now wished to make her constantly retrieve. This was the first and last bird she ever lifted.

102. “Dove,” a white setter, belonging to a near relation of mine, (the left-hand dog in the engraving illustrating [540], is considered extremely like her,) did, spontaneously, that which “Fan” only consented to do after much entreaty. My relation, shooting on the banks of the Forth, killed a partridge that was flying across the river. As he had no retriever with him he almost regretted having fired; but, to his surprise, “Dove” volunteered jumping into the water; made her way to the bird with a sort of steamboat paddle action,—for I verily believe it was the first time she had attempted to swim,—seized it, and, returning with it to the shore, deposited it safely on the bank. She never had retrieved before, and is not particularly good at “seeking dead.”

103. I observed it was something soft which you should teach your dog to fetch. Probably you have seen a retriever taught to seek and bring a stone, upon which, in a delicate manner, the tutor has spit. Does it not stand to reason that the stone must have tended to give his pupil a hard mouth? And what may, later in life, cause him much misery in dashing at a bounding stone, he may split a tooth. Dogs of an advanced age suffer more in their mouths than most of us suspect.

104. Should your pup be unwilling to enter water, on no account push him in, under the mistaken idea that it will reconcile him to the element,—it will but augment his fears ([320]). Rather, on a warm day, throw some biscuit for him, when he is hungry, close to the edge of the bank, where it is so shallow as merely to require his wading. Chuck the next piece a little further off, and, by degrees, increase the distance until he gets beyond his depth, and finds that nature has given him useful swimming powers. On no occasion will the example of another dog more assist you. Your youngster’s diving can never be of service; therefore throw in only what will float. Otherwise he might have a plunge for nothing, and so be discouraged; and evidently it should be your constant aim to avoid doing anything likely to shake his confidence in the judiciousness of your orders.

A person I know, taught a dog many good tricks,—among others, to extinguish the papers thrown upon the ground that had served to light cigars. A booby of a fellow, very wittily, took in the dog, once, by chucking a red-hot coal to him. “A burnt child,” says the old adage, “dreads the fire:” so does a burnt dog: and, of course, no subsequent encouragement would induce him, ever again, to approach a lighted paper.

TAUGHT TO “FETCH.”

105. If you ever have occasion to teach a dog to dive and retrieve, first accustom him, on land, to fetch something heavy, of a conspicuous colour. When he brings it eagerly, commence your diving lesson by throwing it into the shallowest parts of the stream. Only by slow degrees get to deep water, and let your lessons be very short. Never chuck in a stone. The chances are twenty to one that there are several at the bottom not very dissimilar, and the young dog ought not to be subjected to the temptation of picking up one of them in lieu of that he was sent for. Should he on any occasion do so, neither scold nor caress him; quietly take what he brings, lay it at your feet, to show him that you want it not, and endeavour to make him renew his search for what you threw in; do this by signs, and by encouragement with your voice, rather than by chucking stones in the right direction, lest he should seek for them instead of searching for what you originally sent him.

106. Some teachers make a young dog fetch a round pin-cushion, or a cork ball, in which needles are judiciously buried; nor is it a bad plan, and there need be no cruelty in it, if well managed. At least it can only be cruel once, for a dog’s recollection of his sufferings will prevent his picking up the offending object a second time. Others, after he is well drilled into “fetching,” and takes pleasure in it, will make him bring a bunch of keys. There are few things a dog is less willing to lift. Most probably they gave him some severe rebuffs when first heedlessly snatching at them; and the caution thereby induced tends to give him a careful, tender mouth. A fencing master, I knew in France, had a spaniel, singularly enough for a Frenchman, called “Waterloo,” that would take up the smallest needle.

107. When your dog has picked up what you desired, endeavour to make him run to you quickly. Many who teach a dog to fetch, praise and encourage him while he is bringing what he was sent after. Clearly this is an error. It induces the dog to loiter and play with it. He thinks he is lauded for having it in his mouth and carrying it about. Reserve your encomiums and caresses until he has delivered it. (see [153].)—If you walk away, the fear of your leaving him, will induce him to hurry after you. Let a dog retrieve ever so carelessly, still, while on the move, he will rarely drop a bird.

BROUGHT TO LIFT WEIGHTS.

108. Dogs that retrieve should be gradually brought to lift heavy, flexible things, and such as require a large grasp, that they may not be quite unprepared for the weight and size of a hare; otherwise they may be inclined to drag it along by a slight hold of the skin, instead of balancing it across their mouths. Thus capacious jaws are obviously an advantage in retrievers.

The French gamekeepers, many of whom are capital hands at making a retriever (excepting that they do not teach the “down charge”), stuff a hare or rabbit skin with straw, and when the dog has learned to fetch it with eagerness, they progressively increase its weight by burying larger and larger pieces of wood in the middle of the straw: and to add to the difficulty of carrying it, they often throw it to the other side of a hedge or thick copse. If the dog shows any tendency to a hard mouth they mix thorns with the straw.

TAUGHT TO “FETCH.”

109. I ought to have mentioned sooner, that you should commence teaching a puppy to “fetch,” by shaking your glove (or anything soft) at him, and encouraging him to seize and drag it from you. Then throw it a yard or two off, gradually increasing the distance, and the moment he delivers it to you, give him something palatable. It is easier to teach a dog to retrieve as a puppy than when he is older. From teething his gums are in a state of slight irritation, and it gives him pleasure to employ his teeth and gums. Should you, contrary to every reasonable expectation, from his having no inclination to romp or play with the glove, not be able to persuade him to pick it up, put it between his teeth,—force him to grasp it by tightly pressing his jaws together, speaking all the while impressively to him,—scold him if he is obstinate and refuses to take hold of the glove. After a little time retire a few paces, keeping one hand under his mouth (to prevent his dropping the glove), while you lead or drag him with the other. When you halt, be sure not to take the glove immediately from him,—oblige him to continue holding it for at least a minute, (lest he should learn to relinquish his grip too soon) before you make him yield at the command “give;” then bestow a reward. Should he drop it before he is ordered to deliver it, replace it in his mouth, and again retreat some steps before ordering him to “give.” He will soon follow with it at your heels. If you have sufficient perseverance you can thus make him earn all his daily food. Hunger will soon perfect him in the lesson. Observe that there are four distinct stages in this trick of carrying,—the first, making the dog grasp and retain,—the second, inducing him to bring, following at your heels,—the third, teaching him not to quit his hold when you stop,—the fourth, getting him to deliver into your hands on your order. The great advantage of a sporting dog’s acquiring this trick, is, that it accustoms him to deliver into your hands; and it often happens that you must thus teach a dog to “carry” as a preparative to teaching him to “fetch.” It certainly will be judicious in you to do so, if the dog is a lively, riotous animal; for the act of carrying the glove (or stick, &c.) quietly at your heels will sober him, and make him less likely to run off with it instead of delivering it when you are teaching him to fetch. As soon as he brings the glove tolerably well, try him with a short stick. You will wish him not to seize the end of it, lest he should learn to “drag” instead of to “carry.” Therefore fix pegs or wires into holes drilled at right angles to each other at the extremities of the stick. He will then only grasp it near the middle.

TAUGHT TO “CARRY.”

110. On one occasion I had a brace of setters to instruct, which had come to me perfectly untaught, at far too advanced an age to make their education an easy task; they had also been harshly treated, and were consequently shy and timid. This obliged me to proceed with much caution and gentleness. I soon won their confidence, I may say, their affections; but I could not persuade them to play with my glove, nor to lift anything I threw before them. I was hesitating how to act, when I saw one of them find an old dry bone and bear it off in triumph. I encouraged him in carrying it,—threw it several times for him, and when he was tired of the fun, I brought the old bone home as a valuable prize. Next day I tied a string to it,—I frequently chucked it to a short distance, and when the dog had seized it I dragged it towards me, generally turning my back to the dog. As soon as I regained it, I made him attach a value to its being in my hands, by employing it as a plate on which to offer him some delicacy. In a few days I could dispense with the string, and I soon ventured to substitute for the bone the string rolled up as a ball; afterwards I employed a stick. Ultimately the dog fetched very promptly. His companion also took up the trick from the force of good example. (See note to [34].)

111. I have dwelt thus long on “carrying” and “fetching,” because they are frequently taught so injudiciously, that the result is a complete failure.

LAND RETRIEVER.

112. This drill should be further extended if a

REGULAR LAND RETRIEVER

be your pupil. Throw dead birds of any kind for him to bring (of course one at a time), being on the alert to check him whenever he grips them too severely. If he persists in disfiguring them, pass a few blunted knitting needles through them at right angles to one another. When he fetches with a tender mouth, you will be able to follow up this method of training still further by letting him “road” (or “foot,” as it is often termed) a rabbit in high stubble, one (or both, if a strong buck) of whose hind-legs you will have previously bandaged in the manner described in [60]. Be careful not to let him see you turn it out, lest he watch your proceedings and endeavour to “hunt by eye.” Indeed, it might be better to employ another person to turn it out. Keep clear of woods for some time:—the cross scents would puzzle him. If by any chance you have a winged pheasant or partridge, let him retrieve it. You will not, I presume, at the commencement select a morning when there is a dry cold wind from the north-east, but probably you will wish to conclude his initiatory lessons on days which you judge to possess least scent. The more he has been practised as described in [43], the better will he work; for he cannot keep his nose too perseveringly close to the ground. With reference to the instructions in that paragraph I will here remark, that before you let the dog stoop to hunt, you should have placed him by signal ([35]) near the spot from which you had begun dragging the bread. In paragraph [277] an instance is given of the manner in which a dog who retrieves should be put upon a scent; and why that mode is adopted is explained in [271].

113. It is quite astonishing how well an old dog that retrieves knows when a bird is struck. He instantly detects any hesitation or uncertainty of movement, and for a length of time will watch its flight with the utmost eagerness, and, steadily keeping his eye on it, will, as surely as yourself, mark its fall. To induce a young dog to become thus observant, always let him perceive that you watch a wounded bird with great eagerness; his imitative instinct will soon lead him to do the same. This faculty of observation is particularly serviceable in a water retriever. It enables him to swim direct to the crippled bird, and, besides the saving of time, the less he is in the water in severe weather, the less likely is he to suffer from rheumatism.

114. As an initiatory lesson in making him observant of the flight and fall of birds, place a few pigeons (or other birds) during his absence, each in a hole covered with a tile. Afterwards come upon these spots apparently unexpectedly, and, kicking away the tiles, (or, what is better, dragging them off by a previously adjusted string,) shoot the birds for him to bring; it being clearly understood that he has been previously tutored into having no dread of the gun. As he will have been taught to search where bidden ([iv]. to [viii]. of 141), nothing now remains but to take him out on a regular campaign, when the fascinating scent of game will infallibly make him search (I do not say deliver) with great eagerness. When once he then touches upon a scent, leave him entirely to himself,—not a word, not a sign. Possibly his nose may not be able to follow the bird, but it is certain that yours cannot. Occasionally you may be able to help an old retriever ([544]), but rarely, if ever, a young one. Your interference, nay, probably your mere presence, would so excite him as to make him overrun the scent. Remain, therefore, quietly where you are, until he rejoins you.

WATCHES FLIGHT OF BIRDS.

115. When we see a winged pheasant racing off, most of us are too apt to assist a young dog, forgetting that we thereby teach him, instead of devoting his whole attention to work out the scent, to turn to us for aid on occasions when it may be impossible to give it. When a dog is hunting for birds, he should frequently look to the gun for signals, but when he is on them, he should trust to nothing but his own scenting faculties.

116. If, from a judicious education, a retriever pup has had a delight in “fetching” rapidly, it is not likely he will loiter on the way to mouth his birds; but the fatigue of carrying a hare a considerable distance may, perhaps, induce a young dog to drop it in order to take a moment’s rest. There is a risk that when doing so he may be tempted to lick the blood, and, finding it palatable, be led to maul the carcase. You see, therefore, the judiciousness of employing every means in your power to ensure his feeling anxious to deliver quickly, and I know not what plan will answer better,—though it sounds sadly unsentimental,—than to have some pieces of hard boiled liver[18] at hand to bestow upon him the moment he surrenders his game, until he is thoroughly confirmed in an expeditious delivery. Never give him a piece, however diligently he may have searched, unless he succeed in bringing. When you leave off these rewards do so gradually. The invariable bestowal of such dainties during, at least, the retriever’s first season, will prevent his ever dropping a bird on hearing the report of a gun (as many do), in order to search for the later killed game.

BIT FOR BLOOD-SUCKER.

117. Should a young retriever evince any wish to assist the cook by plucking out the feathers of a bird; or from natural vice or mismanagement before he came into your possession,[19] show any predisposition to taste blood, take about two feet (dependent upon the size of the dog’s head) of iron wire, say the one-eighth of an inch in diameter, sufficiently flexible for you, but not for him, to bend. Shape this much into the form of the letter U, supposing the extremities to be joined by a straight line. Place the straight part in the dog’s mouth, and passing the other over his head and ears, retain it in position by a light throat lash passed through a turn in the wire, as here roughly represented. The flexibility of the wire will enable you to adjust it with ease to the shape of his head. When in the kennel he ought to be occasionally thus bitted, that he may not fret when he is first hunted with it. It will not injure his teeth or much annoy him, if it lies on his grinders a little behind the tushes.

118. Sometimes a retriever, notwithstanding every encouragement, will not pursue a winged bird with sufficient rapidity. In this case associate him for a few days with a quicker dog, whose example will to a certainty animate him and increase his pace. It is true that when he is striving to hit off a scent he cannot work too patiently and perseveringly; but, on the other hand, the moment he is satisfied he is on it, he cannot follow too rapidly. A winged bird when closely pressed, seems, through nervousness, to emit an increasing stream of scent; therefore, though it may sound paradoxical, the retriever’s accelerated pace then makes him (his nose being close to the ground) the less likely to overrun it; and the faster he pursues the less ground must he disturb, for the shorter will be the chase.

THE “DOWN CHARGE.”

119. Retrievers are generally taught to rush in, the instant a bird falls. This plan, like most other things, has its advocates and its opponents. I confess to being one of the latter, for I cannot believe that in the long run it is the best way to fill the bag. I think it certain that more game is lost by birds being flushed while the guns are unloaded,[20] than could be lost from the scent cooling during the short period the dog remains at the “down charge.” Unquestionably some retrievers have so good a nose, that the delay would not lead to their missing any wounded game, however slightly struck ([123]); and the delay has this great advantage, that it helps to keep the retriever under proper subjection, and diminishes his anxiety to rush to every part of the line where a gun may be fired, instead of remaining quietly at his master’s heels until signaled to take up the scent. Moreover, a retriever, by neglecting the “down charge,” sets an example to the pointers or setters who may be his companions, which it is always more or less difficult to prevent the dogs, if young, from following. But I once shot over a retriever which I could hardly wish not to have “run on shot.” On a bird being hit he started off with the greatest impetuosity, kept his eye immoveably fixed on its flight, and possessed such speed, that a winged bird scarcely touched the ground ere it was pinned. He would, too, often seize a slightly injured hare before it had acquired its best pace. The pursuit so soon terminated, that possibly less game escaped being fired at, than if the retriever had not stirred until the guns were reloaded. On a miss he was never allowed—indeed appeared little inclined—to quit “heel.” Of course a trainer’s trouble is decreased by not breaking to the “down charge,” which may induce some to recommend the plan; though it is to be observed, that this class of dogs is more easily than any other perfected in it, because the breaker nearly always possesses the power of treading upon or seizing the checkcord the instant a bird is sprung.

120. The nature of your shooting will much influence you in deciding which of the two methods to adopt; but should you select the one which the generality of good sportsmen consider to be most according to rule, and to possess the greatest beauty, viz., the “down charge,” rather lose any bird, however valuable, so long as your retriever remains young, than put him on the “foot” a second before you have reloaded. Undoubtedly it ought to be taught to every dog broken for sale, as the purchaser can always dispense with it should he judge it unnecessary:—it can soon be untaught. It is clear that not “quitting heel” until ordered, is tantamount to the regular “down charge,” but I think the last is the easiest to enforce constantly. It is the more decided step.

MR. K——G’S “BEN.”

121. Mr. K——g (mentioned in [231]) had a famous retriever whose build, close curly hair, and aquatic propensities, showed his close affinity to the water spaniel, though doubtless there was some strain of the Landsman. He retrieved with singular zeal and pertinacity. Indeed his superiority over all competitors in his neighbourhood, was so generally admitted, that his master was hardly ever asked to shoot at any place, without a special invitation being sent to “Ben.” When beating a cover, there was a constant call for “Ben.” No merely winged pheasant fell to the ground, and no hare went off wounded but there was heard, “Ben, Ben.” On one occasion, when K——g was posted at the extremity of the line, the dog was called away so often that his master got annoyed, and declared that the animal should attend to no one but himself. Soon there was a double shot, and, of course, the usual vociferations for “Ben,” but he was ordered to keep close. Louder and louder were the cries for “Ben,” but all in vain,—he obediently followed only his master’s orders. At length when the cover was beaten through, K——g inquired into the cause of the hubbub. Young B——k told him, in no kind humour, that his churlishness in retaining the dog had lost them a fine hare. “If,” said K——g, “you are certain you wounded it, and can put me on the exact spot where it was when you fired, I will bet you £5 that ‘Ben’ shall find her.” B——k observed that he knew perfectly the precise place, having carefully marked it with a stick, but added, that he much doubted the possibility of the dog’s picking up the scent, as more than half an hour had since elapsed. K——g, however, stuck to his offer. They went back and found some pile, which proved that the hare had been struck. The dog was put on the trail. He at once took it, but was so long away, (perhaps twenty minutes,) that they thought it best to search for him. They found him almost immediately, lying down with the hare alongside of him. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, and he showed other symptoms of great distress. Evidently he had brought the hare from a considerable distance.

BEN’S REFLECTIONS.

122. “Ben” had numerous excellent qualities, but his greatest admirers, and few dogs had so many, were obliged to admit, that he was of a quarrelsome, pugnacious disposition. It unluckily happened that he had taken a great dislike to a large cubbish young retriever belonging to the aforesaid Mr. B——k, who often shot with K——g; and I am sorry to say none of “Ben’s” prejudices were removed by the kindly fellowship and good feeling usually engendered by association in field-sports. The day’s work generally commenced by “Ben’s” making a rush at his big awkward companion, and overturning him. After this feat, upon which he evidently greatly plumed himself, he would proceed to business. It happened that one of the sportsmen once knocked over a pheasant which fell outside the hedge surrounding the copse they were beating. It proved to be a runner; “Ben,” however, soon got hold of it, and was carrying it to his master in the cover, when up came the other dog wishing to assist. “Ben’s” anger was roused,—he was anxious to punish such intrusive interference—but how to manage it was the question, for if he put down the winged bird it would run into the wood, where there might be much trouble in recovering it. Quick as thought, off ran “Ben” to the middle of the large ploughed field,—there he dropped the bird,—then dashed at his lumbering rival, quickly gave him a thrashing, and afterwards started in pursuit of the pheasant, which he managed to overtake before it regained the copse. If that was not reflection it was something very like it.

123. One more anecdote of poor “Ben.” I say “poor,” because he died prematurely from a swelling under the throat which might, in all probability, have been cured, had a long seton been run through it, or rather under the adjacent skin,—a mode of treatment attended with the happiest results in the case of another dog attacked in a similar manner in the same kennel. “Ben” and an old setter were K——g’s only canine attendants when he was once pheasant shooting with a friend on some steep banks. K——g was at the bottom, his friend on the top. A cock-pheasant was sprung and winged by the latter. The bird not being immediately found, there was the usual cry for “Ben.” “Go along,” said K——g. Away went the dog, who soon took up the scent and dashed off, but had not gone many yards before he started a hare; K——g had soon an opening to fire, and wounded it. “Ben” pursued it, urged on by his master, who felt sure the dog would be able to retrieve the pheasant afterwards. The hare was viewed scrambling up the bank. “Ben” soon appeared in sight and caught it. K——g’s friend much abused poor “Ben” for quitting one scent for another. “Do not put yourself out of humour,” said K——g; “you don’t know the dog,—wait till he comes back, and if he does not then get the bird, blame me.” Having allowed “Ben” a little breathing time, K——g took him to the place where the bird fell. The dog quickly hit off the scent, K——g, now perfectly satisfied that all was right, made his friend sit down. In little more than a quarter of an hour “Ben” came back with the bird alive in his mouth, it having no other wound that could be perceived than on the pinion of one wing.

124. With such a nose as “Ben’s” could there have been any harm in his being taught to “down charge,” and might there not have been much good ([119])? You see that owing to his having put up the hare while K——g’s friend was loading, it might have escaped, had it, as is usually the case, at once taken to the hills.

125. Large retrievers are less apt to mouth their game than small ones: but very heavy dogs are not desirable, for they soon tire. And yet a certain medium is necessary, for they ought to have sufficient strength to carry a hare with ease through a thicket, when balanced in their jaws, and be able to jump a fence with her. They should run mute. And they should be thick-coated: unless they are so,—I do not say long-coated,—they cannot be expected to dash into close cover, or plunge into water after a duck or snipe when the thermometer is near zero.

THE TRUE NEWFOUNDLAND.

126. From education there are good retrievers of many breeds, but it is usually allowed that, as a general rule, the best land retrievers are bred from a cross between the setter and the Newfoundland,—or the strong spaniel and the Newfoundland. I do not mean the heavy Labrador, whose weight and bulk is valued because it adds to his power of draught, nor the Newfoundland, increased in size at Halifax and St. John’s to suit the taste of the English purchaser,—but the far slighter dog reared by the settlers on the coast,—a dog that is quite as fond of water as of land, and which in almost the severest part of a North American winter will remain on the edge of a rock for hours together, watching intently for anything the passing waves may carry near him. Such a dog is highly prized. Without his aid the farmer would secure but few of the many wild ducks he shoots at certain seasons of the year. The patience with which he waits for a shot on the top of a high cliff (until the numerous flock sail leisurely underneath) would be fruitless, did not his noble dog fearlessly plunge in from the greatest height, and successfully bring the slain to shore.

127. Probably a cross from the heavy, large-headed setter, who, though so wanting in pace, has an exquisite nose; and the true Newfoundland, makes the best retriever. Nose is the first desideratum. A breaker may doubt which of his pointers or setters possesses the greatest olfactory powers, but a short trial tells him which of his retrievers has the finest nose.

128. Making a first-rate retriever is a work of time, but his being thoroughly grounded in the required initiatory lessons facilitates matters surprisingly. Indeed after having been taught the “drop” ([23], [25], [26])—to “fetch” ([107] to [109])—and “seek dead” in the precise direction he is ordered ([xi]. of 141), almost any kind of dog can be made to retrieve. The better his nose is, the better of course he will retrieve. Sagacity, good temper, quickness of comprehension, a teachable disposition, and all cultivated qualities, are almost as visibly transmitted to offspring as shape and action; therefore the stronger a dog’s hereditary instincts lead him to retrieve, the less will be the instructor’s trouble; and the more obedient he is made to the signals of the hand, the more readily will he be put upon a scent. Dogs that are by nature quick rangers do not take instinctively to retrieving. They have not naturally sufficient patience to work out a feeble scent. They are apt to overrun it. A really good retriever will pursue a wounded bird or hare as accurately as a bloodhound will a deer or man; and if he is put on a false scent, I mean a scent of uninjured flick or feather, he will not follow it beyond a few steps:—experience will have shown him the inutility of so doing. ([545].)

RETRIEVE WOODCOCK.

129. Avail yourself of the first opportunity to make a young retriever lift a woodcock, lest in after life, from its novel scent, he decline touching it, as many dogs have done to the great annoyance of their masters. Ditto, with the delicate landrail.

NO RAT-HUNTING.

130. The directions given about “fetching,” led me to talk of retrievers; and having touched upon the subject, I thought it right not to quit it, until I had offered the best advice in my power. I have but one more recommendation to add before I return to your setter (or pointer) pup: carefully guard a young retriever (indeed any dog bred for the gun) from being ever allowed to join in a rat-hunt. Rat-hunting would tend to destroy his tenderness of mouth, nay possibly make him mangle his game. But this is not all. It has often gradually led good dogs to decline lifting hares or rabbits, apparently regarding them more in the light of vermin than of game. Some dogs, however, that are not bad retrievers, are capital ratters, but they are exceptions to the general rule. Indeed, you should never permit your dog to retrieve any kind of ground or winged vermin. If the creature were only wounded it might turn upon him. He in self-defence would give it a grip, and he might thus be led to follow the practice on less pardonable occasions. Remember, that a winged bittern or heron might peck out his eye.