CHEETA AND ANTELOPES.
284. The great advantage of teaching a dog to point the instant he is sensible of the presence of birds (260), and of not creeping a foot further until he is directed by you, is particularly apparent when birds are wild. While he remains steady, the direction of his nose will lead you to give a tolerable guess as to their “whereabouts,” and you and your companion can keep quite wide of the dog (one on each side), and so approach the birds from both flanks. They, meanwhile, finding themselves thus intercepted in three directions, will probably lie so close as to afford a fair shot to, at least, one gun, for they will not fail to see the dog and be awed by his presence. Raise your feet well off the ground, to avoid making a noise. Walk quickly, but with no unnecessary flourish of arms or gun. They may fancy that you intend to pass by them:—a slow cautious step often raises their suspicions. (Most sportsmen in the Highlands prefer a low cap, or a wide-awake, to a hat; one of the motives for this choice being that the wearer is less conspicuous,—not appearing so tall. It is because he will not appear so tall that he thinks he can get nearer to a pack by approaching the birds up hill, rather than by coming down upon them from a height. Many an old sportsman crouches when approaching wild birds.) As soon as you and your friend are in good positions, you can motion to the dog to advance and flush the birds. You should on no account halt on theway, for the moment you stop they will fancy they are perceived, and take wing. It is by driving round and round, constantly contracting the circle, andnever stopping, that the bullock-cart, carrying the trained cheeta, is often brought within 100 yards of the herd of antelopes, amidst which is unsuspiciously browsing the doomed dark buck.[52]Driven directly towards the herd, the cart could not approachwithin thrice that distance. In Yorkshire, very late in the season, when the grouse are so scared that they will not allow a dog or man to get near them, it often happens that a good bag is made by the gun keeping just ahead of a cart and horse. Here, however, no circuit is made. The birds are found by chance. The only dog employed is the retriever, kept in the cart until he is required to fetch.
285. You must not, however, too often try to work round and head your pupil when he is pointing. Judgment is required to know when to do it with advantage. If the birds were running, you would completely throw him out, and greatly puzzle and discourage him, for they probably would then rise out of shot, behind you, if they were feeding up wind,—behind him, if they were feeding down wind.[53]Far more frequently make him work out the scent by his own sagacity and nose, and lead you up to the birds, every moment bristling more and more, at a pace[54]entirely controlled and regulated by your signals. These being given with your righthand will be more apparent to him if you place yourself on his left side. It is in this manner that you give him a lesson which willhereaftergreatly aid him in recovering slightly winged birds,—in pressing to a rise the slow-winged but nimble-heeled rail,—or in minutely following the devious mazes through which an old cock-pheasant, or yet more, an old cock-grouse, may endeavour to mislead him. And yet this lesson should not be given before he is tolerably confirmed at his point, lest he should push too fast on the scent; and make a rush more like the dash of a cocker than the sober, convenient “road” of a setter. As his experience increases he will thus acquire the valuable knowledge of the position of his game:—he will lead you to the centre of a covey, or what is of greater consequence—as grouse spread—to the centre of a pack, (instead of allowing himself to be attracted to a flank by some truant from the main body), and thus get you a good double shot, and enable you effectually to separate the birds:—he will, moreover, become watchful, and sensible of his distance from game—a knowledge all-important, and which, be it remarked, he never could gain in turnips or potatoes, or any thick cover.
286. Mr.C——sR——n, well known in Edinburgh, told me that a black and tan pointer of his (AdmiralM——y’sbreed) gave, on one occasion, a very clever proof of his knowledge of the distance at which he ought to stand from his game. He was ranging in thick stubble. Some partridge, being slightly alarmed, rose a little above the ground, and then dropped very near the dog,—upon which the sagacious creature instantly crouched close to the ground, his head between his fore-legs, and in that constrained positionventre-à-terre, pushed himself backwards until he had retreated to what he conceived to be a judicious distance from the covey, when he stood up and pointed boldly.
VEXATIOUS STANCHNESS.
287. There is another and yet stronger reason why you should not consider it a rule always to head your young dog at his point. You may—although at first itseems an odd caution to give—make him too stanch. This, to be sure, signifies less with partridges than with most birds; but if you have ever seen your dog come to a fixed point, and there, in spite of all your efforts, remain provokingly immoveable—plainly telling you of the vicinity of birds, but that you must find them out for yourself—your admiration of his steadiness has, I think, by no means reconciled you to the embarrassing position in which it has placed you. I have often witnessed this vexatious display of stanchness, although the owner cheered on the dog in a tone loud enough to alarm birds two fields off.
288. A keeper will sometimes praise his dog for such stanchness; but it is a great fault, induced probably by over-severity for former rashness,—and the more difficult to be cured, if the animal is a setter, from the crouching position which he often naturally assumes when pointing.
INSTANCES OF FINE ROADING.
289. A friend of mine was told by Mr.C——t(to whom those interested in the prosperity of the Edinburgh Zoological Gardens ought to feel much indebted), that a little pointer bitch of his came, on a hot, dry, bad scenting day, to a fixed point. He could not persuade her to move, nor could he or his friend spring any game; and two not bad-nosed dogs that were hunting with her would not acknowledge the scent, even when they were brought close to the bitch. As she would neither advance nor retire, he actually had her carried off in a boy’s arms. When she was put down, away she ran and resumed her point. After another ineffectual attempt to raise birds, again she was borne off, but only to take up for athirdtime her point. At length, after a yet closer search—in which, however, she still refused to join,—a young blackcock was perceived closely buried under a thick piece of heather. The very excellence of the bitch’s nose, and her admirable perseverance, made it the more vexatious that she had not been taught the meaning of the signals to advance. One grieves that anything should have been neglected in the education of so superior a creature.
290. I advised (285) your practising your young dog in “footing” out a scent. Though it occurred many years ago, I remember as if it were but yesterday (from my annoyance at shooting so execrably, when it was peculiarly incumbent on me not to miss), my nearly making a sad mistake with a very young dog, who was following up a retreating bird most magnificently.
CARRYING A POINT, AND CARRYING A POINTER.—Par.289.
CARRYING A POINT, AND CARRYING A POINTER.—Par.289.
291. I was looking for grouse where I thought that there might be some, but was sure there could not be many. After beating for a considerable time unsuccessfully, the youngest of the dogs that were hunting made a stanch point. I got up to him;—nothing rose. I encouraged him to press on. He did so, and at a convenient pace which allowed me to keep parallel with him. He so seldom stopped, and bristled so little, that I thought he was making a fool of me. Still, as he now and then looked round sagaciously, as if to say “There really is game ahead,” I did not like to tell him of my suspicions. Though my patience was sorely tried, for he led me a distance which I dare not name, I resolved to let him have his own way, and to see what would be the result, satisfied that undue precipitance on my part might effect more evil than could arise from an erroneous participation in his proceedings. At length, when my good resolutions were all but exhausted, and I was thinking of chiding the dog for his folly, we approached a bare spot, free from heather:—up sprung a noble cock-grouse, challenging splendidly.
292. I had been so perplexed, and was, I am ashamed to say, so unnerved, that, though the bird went off in a line directly from me, I missed him with both barrels; I don’t know when I was more vexed:—nothing but my bungling lost the young dog the reward he so richly deserved.
OVER-CAUTION.
293. I recount this story, though it is little in my favour, to warn you against the too common error of fancying that a young dog is making false points if birds do not get up directly. They may have taken leg-bail, and thus have puzzled him in his inexperience. Dogs not cowed by punishment will, after a little hunting, seldom make false points, while they are unfatigued. To a certainty they will not draw upon a false point for any distance: therefore, never punish what is solely occasioned by over-caution. Your doing so would but increase the evil. Self-confidence and experience are the only cures for a fault that would be a virtue if not carried to excess. Even a good dog will occasionally make a point at larks from over-caution when birds are wild; but see the first note to194.
294. After you have shot over a dog a short time, his manner and attitude will enable you to guess pretty accurately whether birds are really before him; whether they are far off or near; and whether or not they are on the move. Generally speaking, the higher he carries his head, and the less he stiffens his stern, the further off are the birds. If he begin to look nervous, and become fidgety, you will seldom be wrong in fancying they are on the run. But various, and at times most curious, are the methods that dogs will adopt,apparentlywith the wish to show you where the birds are, andcertainlywith the desire to get you a shot.
295. A pointer, belonging at the present moment to a nobleman in Perthshire, LordM——d, (from whose lips my informant heard the strange story), has quite a novel mode of telling that birds are on the move. While they continue quiet, he points them in the usual manner, with his head towards them, but so soon as they begin to walk off, he directly faces about, very disrespectfully presenting his stern to them,—whether to express contempt for their want of courtesy, or to warn his lordship to look out for a long shot, I will leave you to decide.[55]I particularly inquired if he did this indifferently,whether the birds were running up or down wind. This my informant could not positively tell. All he knew was that his lordship had said, in a general way, that the singularly mannered animal invariably repeated this eccentric proceeding whenever the birds moved.
296. Not only will a dog’s manner often show you whether or not birds are on the move, but his carriage, when you are accustomed to him, will frequently tell you what species of game is before him. I know an old pointer that is capital in light cover. His owner shoots rabbits over him, and whenever the dog finds one, though he points steadily, his tail vibrates as regularly as a pendulum.
FIRST BLACKCOCK.
297. Years ago, when I was shooting in the North, I was crossing some land which the encroachments of husbandry had converted from wild heather to profitable sheep-walks; suddenly a young dog that was with me came to a more rigid point than I had ever seen him make—every muscle appeared distended—I was puzzled—I felt satisfied that he had winded something very unusual, but what to expect I could not imagine, for there seemed not cover for a tomtit. When I got up to him he was so nervously anxious that I had some difficulty in making him advance, but at length he slowly brought me towards a small bush, to which he nailed his nose. Further he would not proceed. I kicked the bush; when, to my great gratification, up gradually rose a young blackcock, which went off to killing distance with a flight not more rapid than that of the florikin. It was the first black game that the dog had ever seen. It was also the first that I had ever seen on the wing, and this may account for all the attendant circumstances being so strongly impressed upon my memory.
298. ColonelC——n, on the staff of the Duke ofC——e, told me that about ten years ago he heard a gentleman, then living on the Mall at Birr, make a bet of a pony (he offered to wager a much larger sum) that his terrier bitch would point all the kinds of game found in the neighbouring bog—and further, that before it was sprung he would name what description of game the dog was pointing. The gentleman won his bet handsomely, though they found snipe, woodcock, grouse, hare, and something else,—as well as ColonelC——nnow remembers,—a duck. It was soon evident to the spectators, that the attitude of the clever animal—short-eared, with a considerable cross of the bull-dog—varied according to the nature of the game she came across. To an English ear shooting on a bog does not sound very attractive,—but though the walking is generally difficult, the sport is often interesting, from the variety of game the sportsman frequently meets with.
FIRST LESSON IN SEPTEMBER CONCLUDED. BAR.—LEG STRAP.—SPIKE-COLLAR.
299. Bar cure for too high spirits. A leg strapped up. Why these remedies are better than starvation and excessive work.—300. The regular Spike-Collar described. French Spike-Collar.—301. One less objectionable.—302to305. How, in extreme cases, the Spike-collar might be employed.—306. Dog springing Birds without noticing them; how to be treated.—307. The first Birds fired at to be killed outright; the Search for winged Birds, Dog being to leeward.—308. Had the Dog seized. Firing at running Bird.—309. The Search for winged Bird, Dog being to windward.—310. “Lifting” a Dog, when recommended. “Footing” a scent. In Note, speed of Red-legged Partridge.—311. Evil of a Young Sportsman always thinking his birds killed outright; often calls away Dog improperly.—312. Loss of dead bird discouraging to Dog.—313. Perseverance in Seeking, how fostered.—314. “Nosing” Bird allowed.—315. Its advantage instanced in SirW——mF——n’sdogs.—316. Error of picking up winged bird before Loading. In Notes, ingenious Argument in its favour; Bird picked up in the Evening; rejoins Covey.—317. If winged bird be a fast runner, and out of shot.—318. Dog that was devoted to “seeking dead,” would retrieve Snipe she would not point; probable cause of her fondness for retrieving.—319. Dog which kept his paw on winged bird; how taught. “Beppo” in Africa.—320. Blenheim, which hated Water, yet would always retrieve Wildfowl.—321. If dog rashes forward yet yields to menaces and stops.—322. If he seizes the dead bird; if he has torn it.—323. How to administer Punishment.—324. Part good friends. Your own temper not to be ruffled.—325. He is no Breaker who cannot always get hold of Dog.—326. Be certain of Dog’s guilt before punishing.—327. Dog’s Ears not to be pulled violently.—328. To “drop” whenever Bird or Hare rises.—329. Lesson in Turnips.—330. Real Lesson in “Gone” or “Flown” givenafterdog has had some experience; reason why.
299. After a few trials you will, I hope, be able to dispense with the peg recommended in281, and soon after with the checkcord also. But if your dog possesses unusually high spirits, or if he travels over the ground at a pace which obviously precludes his making a proper use of his nose, it may be advisable to fasten to his collar a bar, something like a diminutive splinter-bar, that it may, by occasional knocking against his shins, feelingly admonish him to lessen his stride. If he getsit between his legs and thus finds it no annoyance, attach it to both sides of his collar from points near the extremities. One of his fore-legs might occasionally be passed through the collar; but this plan is not so good as the other; nor as the strap on the hind-leg (60). These means (to be discarded, however, as soon as obedience is established) are far better than thetemporaryascendancy which some breakers establish by low diet and excessive work, which would only weaken his spirits and his bodily powers, without eradicating his self-will, or improving his intellects. You want to force him, when he is in the highest health and vigour, to learn by experience the advantage of letting his nose dwell longer on a feeble scent.
BAR. FRENCH SPIKE-COLLAR.
300. I have made no mention of the spiked-collar, because it is a brutal instrument, which none but the most ignorant or unthinking would employ. It is a leather collar into which nails, much longer than the thickness of the collar have been driven, with their points projecting inwards. The French spike-collar is nearly as severe. It is formed of a series of wooden balls,—larger than marbles,—linked (about two and a half inches apart) into a chain by stiff wires bent into the form of hooks. The sharp pointed hooks punish cruelly when the checkcord is jerked.
ENGLISH SPIKED-COLLAR.
301. We have, however, a more modern description of collar, which is far less inhuman than either of those I have mentioned, but still I cannot recommend its adoption, unless in extreme cases; for though not so severely, it, likewise, punishes the unfortunate dog, more or less, by the strain of the checkcord he drags along the ground: and it ought to be the great object of a good breaker as little as is possible to fret or worry his pupil, that all his ideas may be engaged in an anxious wish to wind birds.On a leather strap, which has a ring at one end, four wooden balls (of about two inches diameter) are threaded like beads, at intervals from each other and the ring, say, of two inches (the exact distance being dependent on the size of the dog’s throat). Into each of the balls sundry short thickish pieces of wire are driven, leaving about one-sixth of an inch beyond the surface. The other end of the strap (to which the checkcord is attached) is passed through the ring. This ring being of somewhat less diameter than the balls, it is clear, however severely the breaker may pull, he cannot compress the dog’s throat beyond a certain point. The effect of the short spikes is rather to crumple than penetrate the skin.
302. I have long been sensible of the aid a spiked-collar would afford in reclaiming headstrong, badly educated dogs, if it could be used at the moment—and only at the precise moment—when punishment was required; but not until lately did it strike me how the collar could be carried so that the attached cord should not constantly bear upon it, and thereby worry, if not pain the dog. And had I again to deal with an old offender, who incorrigibly crept in after pointing, or obstinately “rushed into dead,” I should feel much disposed to employ a slightly spiked collar in the following manner.
303. That the mere carrying the collar might not annoy the dog, I would extract or flatten the nails fixed on thetopof the collar, on the part, I mean, that would lie on the animal’s neck. This collar I would place on his neck, in front of his common light collar. I would then firmly fasten the checkcord, in the usual way, to the spiked-collar; but, to prevent any annoyance from dragging the checkcord, at about five or six inches from the fastening just made I would attach it to the commoncollar, with very slight twine—twine so slight that, although it would not give way to the usual drag of the checkcord, however long, yet it would readily break on my having to pull strongly against the wilful rush of an obstinate dog, when, of course, the spikes would punish him, as the strain would then be borne by the spiked-collar alone.
304. Guided by circumstances, I would afterwards either remove the spiked-collar, or, if I conceived another bout necessary, refasten the checkcord to the common collar with some of the thin twine, leaving, as before, five or six inches of the checkcord loose between the two collars.
305. If you should ever consider yourself forced to employ a spiked-collar, do not thoughtlessly imagine that the same collar will suit all dogs. The spikes for a thin-coated pointer ought to be shorter than for a coarse-haired setter! You can easily construct one to punish with any degree of severity you please. Take a common leather collar; lay its inner surface flat on a soft deal board: through the leather drive with a hammer any number of tacks or flat-headed nails: then get a cobbler to sew on another strap of leather at the back of the nails, so as to retain them firmly in position.
DOG NOT NOTICING BIRDS.
306. I have supposed that your dog hasscentedthe birds before they rose, but if he spring them without having previously noticed them (as in some rare cases happens even to well-bred dogs) youmustbring him back to the spot at which you feel assured that he ought to have been sensible of their presence, andtheremake him “Toho.” Afterwards endeavour to make him aware of the haunt by encouraging him to sniff at the ground that the birds have just left. The next time watch very carefully for theslightestindication of his featheringand then instantly call out “Toho.” After a few times he will, to a certainty, understand you.
BIRD RUN TO WINDWARD.
307. You should kill outright the few first birds at which you fire. I would infinitely prefer that you should miss altogether, than that one of the two or three first birds should be a runner. Afterwards you have full leave to merely wing a bird; but still I should wish it not to be too nimble. This is a good trial ofyourjudgment as well as the dog’s. I hope he is to leeward of the bird, and that it will not catch his eye. See he touches on the haunt. Do not let him work with his nose to the ground. “Up, up,” must be your encouraging words (or “On, on,” according to circumstances), whilst with your right hand (iv.of 141) you are alternately urging and restraining him, so as to make him advance at a suitable pace. From his previous education, not being flurried by any undue dread of the whip, he will be enabled to give his undisturbed attention, and devote all his faculties to follow unerringly the retreating bird. But from inexperience he may wander from the haunt. On perceiving this, bring him, by signals, back to the spot where he was apparently last aware of the scent. He will again hit it off. If you view the bird ever so far ahead, on no account run. I hope you will at length observe it lie down. Head it, if possible, and strike it with your whip, if you think you will be unable to seize it with your hand. Endeavour to prevent its fluttering away;—it is too soon to subject the youngster to such a severe trial of his nerves and steadiness. Then, (having put the poor creature out of its misery, by piercing its skull, or rapping its head against your gun,) as before (266), show your dog the gratifying prize which your combined exertions have gained.
308. Should he unluckily have caught sight of therunning bird, and, in spite of all your calls, have rushed forward and seized it, you ought to have proceeded as described in322. Clearly, however, you would not have dragged the dog back to the place where he “down charged,” but merely to the spot from which he had made his unlawful rush. If the bird had been very active, it would have been far better to have fired at it a second time (while it was running), than to have incurred the risk of making your dog unsteady by a wild pursuit. Suppose that it was not winged, but rose again on your approaching it, and fluttered off,—a hard trial for the young dog,—you must, however, have made him bear it, and obey your loud command to “drop,”—you would (or should) have taken another shot, and have proceeded in exactly the same manner as if this had been your first find (265,266).
BIRD RUN TO LEEWARD.
309. As the wounded bird was to windward of the dog, the course to follow was obvious,—it was plain sailing; but the case would have varied greatly if the dog had been to windward. Had you pursued the usual plan, he must have roaded the bird by the “foot;” and the danger is, that in allowing him to do so you may create in him the evil habit of hunting with his nose close to the ground, which is above all things to be deprecated. You have another mode—you can “lift” the dog (I suppose you know the meaning of that hunting term), and make him take a large circuit, and so head the bird, and then proceed as if it had fallen to windward.
PERSEVERE IN SEEKING.
310. The latter plan would avoid all risk of your making him a potterer, and it is, I think, to be recommended if you find him naturally inclined to hunt low. But the former method, as a lesson in “footing,” must be often resorted to, that he may learn unhesitatingly todistinguish the “heel” from the “toe,” and how to push an old cock-grouse, or to flush a pheasant running through cover, or the red-legged, I was nearly saying, the everlasting-legged partridge;[56]and, indeed, generally, how to draw upon his birds, and with confidence lead you to a shot when they are upon the move and running down wind. (See end of115; and for further directions, and for “seeking dead” with two dogs, look at544). The heavy Spanish pointer, from his plodding perseverance and great olfactory powers, was an excellent hand at retrieving a slightly injured bird on a broiling, bad scenting day.
311. When I advised you (266) to let the dog “have plenty of time to make out the bird,” I spoke from personal experience, and from a vivid recollection of errors committed in my novitiate. A young hand is too apt to imagine that every bird which falls to his gun is killed outright, and lying dead on the spot where it fell. He will, therefore, often impatiently, and most injudiciously, call away the dog who, at a little distance, may have hit off the trail of the winged bird, and be “footing” it beautifully.
312. If in these lessons you should fail in obtaining one or two wounded birds, though it might not be a matter of any moment to yourself personally, it would be extremely vexatious on the dog’s account, because, in this early stage of his education, it would tend to discourage him. The feeling which you must anxiously foster in him is this, that after the word “Find”[57]the search must neverbe relinquished, even though he be constrained to hunt from morning till night. And it is clear that to make an abiding, valuable impression, this lesson must be inculcated on the several first occasions with unremitting, untiring diligence.
ALLOW HIM TO “NOSE.”
313. Persevere, therefore, for an hour, rather than give up a wounded bird. Join in the search yourself. Even if you see where it lies, do not pick it up hastily. On the contrary, leave it, but mark well the spot. Keep on the move. Hold your gun as if in expectation of a rise. Pretend to seek for the bird in every direction, even for a good half hour, if you can encourage your dog to hunt so long. If, indeed, you see him flag, and get wearied and dispirited, gradually bring him close, but to leeward of the spot where the bird lies, in order to make him “point dead,” and be rewarded for all his diligence by finding it himself. Let him, also, have a good sniff at it and nose it (but let there be no biting or mouthing), before you put it into the bag. Otherwise, what return has he for the pains he has taken?
SEARCH FOR HOURS.
314. It is no conclusive argument against the practice of allowing him to “nose,” that many first-rate dogs have never been so indulged. It is certain that they would not have been worse if they had; and many a dog, that would otherwise have been extremely slack, has been incited to hunt with eagerness from having been so rewarded. There are dogs who, from having been constantly denied all “touseling,” will not even give themselves the trouble of searching for any bird which they haveseenknocked over, much less think of pointing it. They seem satisfied with this ocularevidence of its death; for, odd to say, these very dogs will often zealously obey the order to hunt for any bird whose fall they have not noticed; but in winding it they will indulge in no more than a passing sniff,—which sniff, unless you are watchful, you may not observe, and so lose your bird. Never fail, therefore, to let your pupil ruffle the feathers[58]a little, while you bestow on him a caress or a kind word of approbation. You then incite to perseverance, by, even with dogs, a very abiding motive,—“self-interest;” but mind the important rule, that this “nosing” be onlywhenthe bird is in your possession, notbeforeit is in your possession. If you wish to establish for ever a confirmed perseverance in “seeking dead,” you must sacrificehours(I say it seriously) rather than give up any of the first wounded birds. Be persuaded that every half hour spent in an unremitting search foronebird, if ultimately successful, will more benefit the young dog than your killing adozento him, should you bag them the moment you are reloaded. Of course you would not, when you are giving such a lesson in perseverance, fire at another bird, even if it sprang at your feet,—for your doing so, whether you missed or killed, would unsettle the young dog, and make him relinquish his search. Be stimulated to present exertion by the conviction that if he be notnowwell instructed, you must expect him to lose, season after season, nearly every bird only slightly disabled by a merely tipped wing.
315. I casually asked Mr.H——hwhat kind of sport he had had in Aberdeenshire with SirW——mF——n. He replied, “The pleasantest imaginable. One day we killed forty-six brace, and bagged every feather. Indeed,F——nnever loses a bird. I have actually known him, when his dogs were young, spend a full half hour in hunting for a dead bird; nothing would induce him to give up. The consequence is, thatnowhe never loses one by any chance. He broke in the dogs entirely himself:—he would seldom allow his keeper to say a word to them. He was always very patient; and he is well rewarded for his trouble.” Why not take the same trouble and obtain a like reward? This wastruesport! What battue-shooting could compare with it?
LOAD BEFORE YOU BAG.
316. I hope you will not say, as would most of our neighbours[59]on the other side of the Channel: “But if, instead of waiting to load, I had gone after the winged bird just as it fell, when first I saw it start off running, the evil you have now spoken of (312) could not have occurred, for there would have but been little risk of losing it.” Probably not, but you would have almost ruined your dog; and to secure this one bird, in all likelihood you would subsequently lose a hundred.[60]How could you with justice blame him if, when next you killed, he rushed headlong after the bird (instead of dropping patiently to the “down charge”), and so sprung a dozen birds while you were unloaded?
317. Perhaps you will say, “You tell me to fire at a running bird, but when a winged cock-pheasant or red-legged partridge is racing offout of shot, how am I to get it, if I proceed in the slow, methodical manner you advise? May it not lead me an unsuccessful dance foran hour, if I do not allow the dog to start ahead and seize?” It may, (but I hope months will pass before you witness such agility); and this shows that those who do not employ a retriever, and yet are sticklers for a setter’s (or pointer’s) never being permitted to touch a feather, must on such occasions get into a dilemma; and, unless they are willing to lose the bird, must plead guilty to the inconsistency of being pleased—however loudly they may roar out “Toho,” “ware dead,”—when they see their dog, in defiance of all such calls, disable it by a sudden grip. This plan, though frequently followed, cannot be correct. They blame the dog for doing what they really wish, and if he be too tender-mouthed to injure the bird, he keeps them at top speed, while he is alternately picking up the unfortunate creature, acting on his natural impulses,—and letting it fall on being rated. I therefore repeat, that even if you do not wish your dog constantly to retrieve (536), you would still act judiciously in teaching him as a puppy to fetch (96), for then he will give chase to the winged bird, and bring it to youon getting the order, instead of permitting it to escape for a freshburst, or carrying it off, as I have seen done. You thus maintain discipline. The dog will do what you wish, in obedience to orders,—not in opposition to orders. The sticklers for dogs never being allowed to nose a feather, ought, unless they are willing to give up slightly winged birds, not to shrink from the difficult task of teaching their pupils to stop and retain with their paws (319).
PERSEVERANCE INSTANCED.
318. The pertinacity with which some dogs will “seek dead” is really surprising. A relative of mine had an English pointer which was so devoted to hunting for “knocked-down” birds, that she was almost unequalled in “finding,” though in other respects possessed of very ordinary qualifications. If she failed in soon winding the lost bird, she would of her own accord make a large circuit; and if stillunsuccessful, she would indefatigably traverse the field from leeward until some slight taint in the atmosphere intimated to her in what direction to continue the search. When he afterwards hunted her in Ireland, though he could not get her to point snipe, yet if he killed one, she would exert herself to the utmost to retrieve it. Her keenness probably in part arose from her having, as a young one, always been indulged with a good “touseling” of the game before it was picked up. She never wished to grip.
BIRD HELD BY PAW.
319. A gentleman who was my neighbour a few seasons ago, has a very old setter, which was also capital at “finding.” “Don” used to lay his paw upon the wounded bird, which, I fancy, afforded him such gratification that he would zealously devote every faculty he possessed to secure the prize. You could not teach every dog this method of detaining a bird. If yours is one of a very docile disposition you may effect it by always placing the dead or wounded bird for a minute or two under his paw before you deposit it in the bag.
320. An officer of the Navy, Mr.W——b, of Southsea, once possessed a true Blenheim—naturally a tender breed—that, from having been injudiciously thrown into the water when young (see104), had taken such a dislike to the element, that although she was extremely attached to her master, and always anxious to be with him, especially when he shouldered his gun, yet the moment she saw him appear with a towel in hand (feeling assured he purposed bathing), she would bolt off, and allow nothing to persuade her to accompany him. Now, great as was her abhorrence of a cold bath, yet her gratification in retrieving so far outweighed every other feeling, that for the moment it overcame her aversion to a plunge, and whenever Mr.W——bshot a duck she would dash in to bring it on shore. She would carefully deposit it at the edge of the bank, but not carry it a step further. “Rose” had secured it, and that was the extent of her wishes.
321. We have only spoken of instances266,307,309, in which all has gone on smoothly, the dog most obediently dropping to shot and permittingyouto take up the bird notwithstanding the poor creature’s death-struggles. Suppose, however, and this may probably happen, that he does not restrain himself at the “down charge,” but, in spite of all your calls and signals, rushes forward, yet yields to your menaces and halts in mid-career. It is well—your course is clear; you have to lug him back, and threaten, and lecture him. But should he not check himself until he sniffs the game, his stopthen becomes a “point;” and if he is of a timid disposition, or has ever evinced any disposition to blink, you dare not force him to retrace his steps, lest he should mistake your motives, and fancy himself encouraged to abandon his point. If you merely make him “down charge,” you violate the axiom named in359. In short, you are in a difficulty. It is a nice case, in which your own judgment of the dog’s character can alone decide you.