INVITATION TO A ‘WHITE-BAIT’ DINNER.—Par.475.Larger image(192 kB)
INVITATION TO A ‘WHITE-BAIT’ DINNER.—Par.475.
Larger image(192 kB)
A NEWFOUNDLAND FISHING.
475. At certain seasons of the year the streams in some parts of North America, not far from the coast, are filled with fish to an extent you could scarcely believe, unless you had witnessed it—and now comes the Munchausen story. A real Newfoundland, belonging to a farmer who lived near one of those streams, used, at such times, to keep the house well supplied with fish. He thus managed it:—He was perfectly black, with the exception of a white fore-foot, and for hours together he would remain almost immoveable on a small rock which projected into the stream, keeping his white foot hangingover the ledge as a lure to the fish. He remained so stationary that it acted as a very attractive bait; and whenever curiosity or hunger tempted any unwary fish to approach too close, the dog plunged in, seized his victim, and carried him off to the foot of a neighbouring tree; and, on a successful day, he would catch a great number.
476. I have another anecdote of a young Newfoundland, told me by General SirH——dD——s, to whose scientific attainments the two sister-services, the army and the navy, are both so greatly indebted. He bred the dog in America, having most fortunately taken the dam from England; for, to her address in swimming, and willingness to “fetch,” he and his surviving shipwrecked companions were, under Providence, chiefly indebted for securing many pieces of salt pork that had drifted from the ill-fated vessel, and which constituted their principal food during their six weeks’ miserable detention on an uninhabited island.
NEWFOUNDLAND AND FOX.
477. At a station where he was afterwards quartered as a subaltern, in ’98, not far from the falls of Niagara, the soldiers kept a tame fox. The animal’s kennel was an old cask, to which he was attached by a long line and swivel. The Newfoundland and the fox soon scraped an acquaintance, which, in due course, ripened into an intimacy.
478. One day that SirH——dwent to the barracks, not seeing anything of the fox, he gave the barrel a kick, saying to a man standing by, “Your fox is gone!” This sudden knock at the back-door of his house so alarmed the sleeping inmate, that he bolted forth with such violence as to snap the light cord. Off he ran. The soldiers felt assured that he would return, but SirH——d, who closely watched the frightened animal, had the vexation of observing that he made direct for the woods.
479. SirH——dbethought him to hie on Neptune after Reynard, on the chance of the friends coming back together in amicable converse. It would, however, appear that the attractions of kindred (more probably of freedom) had greater influence than the claims of friendship; for, instead of the Newfoundland’s returning with Pug as avoluntarycompanion, after a time, to the surprise and delight of many spectators, the dog was descried, with the end of the rope in his mouth, forcibly dragging along the disappointed fox, who was struggling, manfully but fruitlessly, against a fresh introduction to his military quarters.
480. “Nep” was properly lauded and caressed for his sagacity; and SirH——dwas so satisfied that he would always fetch back the fox perfectly uninjured and unworried, however much excited in the chase, that the next day, after turning out Reynard, he permitted the officers to animate and halloo on the dog to their utmost. When slipped, though all eagerness for the fun in hand, “Nep” took up the trail most accurately, hunted it correctly, and in due course, agreeably to his owner’s predictions, dragged back the poor prisoner in triumph, having, as on the previous occasion, merely seized the extremity of the cord.
BRINGING HOME THE BRUSH.“The dog was descried, with the end of the rope in his mouth, forcibly dragging along the disappointed fox.”—Par.479.
BRINGING HOME THE BRUSH.“The dog was descried, with the end of the rope in his mouth, forcibly dragging along the disappointed fox.”—Par.479.
MUTA AND MUSK-BULL.
481. For the following anecdote I am indebted to SirG——eB——k, the intrepid and scientific navigator, whose name will be mentioned as long as British deeds of the present century are cited, descriptive of bold daring and perseverance in surmounting the greatest difficulties.
482. “On the 8th of September, 1834, after a laborious morning spent in ascending a part of the Thlew-ĕe-chōh-dezeth, or Back River, we were detained by the portage of the ‘Cascades.’ While the men were actively employed in carrying the things across, I was equally busy in the tent, working a series of observations which had just been obtained for longitude, &c.
483. “A little dog, a species of terrier, called ‘Muta’ from her silent, quiet habits, was my only companion. She had been the faithful follower of my party to the polar sea, and, independently of her value as a good watch, was not only a pet of mine, but had managed to become a great favourite with all the others.
484. “Muta had left the tent for upwards of an hour, but returned in great haste, bustled about inside, rubbed against me, and with eyes bright and eager stood looking in my face. Finding I paid no attention to her, she rushed out—came back, however, quickly; and standing over the gun, which was near me, again looked imploringly at me. Once more she sprung outside, and barked anxiously.
485. “Still I continued my calculations; and perhaps twenty minutes might have elapsed when Muta, warm and panting, leapt upon me—ran to the gun—then to the opening of the tent, and evinced such very unusual restlessness that I could not help fancying something must be wrong. Being alone, I thought it well to be prepared, and accordingly put a ball into my second barrel,—there always was one in the first,—and followed her out.
486. “Her joy was unbounded, and perfectly noiselessly she led me such a distance that I thought she was deceiving me, and I chidingly told her so; but she still persisted in going forward, pleased though excited. I walked on a little further, when conceiving I was but losing my time I turned back. She ran round to intercept me, and so earnestly resisted my attempts to retrace my steps, that I yielded to the appeal, and again consented to accompany her.
487. “She brought me to the edge of a gully, fully half-a-mile from the tent, partly sheltered by willows. Here she stopped. Thinking she had tricked me, I began to reproach her, on which she darted like lightning into the underwood, barking furiously, when, to my great surprise, out rushed a large musk bull, which unluckily I only wounded, to Muta’s manifest disappointment, and my own great annoyance.
488. “Poor Muta’s sad fate is recorded in the 462d page of my Narrative of the Arctic Land Expedition of 1833–4–5, and she may be seen in the mouth of the white wolf that killed her, safely housed in a glass case within the walls of the United Service Institution.”
SCENE ON THE ‘THLEW-ĔE-CHŌH-DEZETH.’—Par.487.
SCENE ON THE ‘THLEW-ĔE-CHŌH-DEZETH.’—Par.487.
489. At my request, SirG——ekindly drew the spirited sketch, which I have had engraved, of the scene he so vividly described.
CAPTAIN AND SUWARROW.
490. Dining one day at the hospitable board of LordM——f, he told me, that many years ago an uncle of his, an excellent sportsman, lent him a brace of short-haired English dogs, yclept “Captain” and “Suwarrow,”—martial names! yet not inappropriate, you will think, when you hear some of their feats of strategy. “Captain,” moreover, had other warlike propensities; he was a close-knit, powerful dog, and there was no peace in any kennel he ever entered until its boldest inmates had conceded to him all the privileges of commander-in-chief.
491. LordM——fand a friend had obtained permission to shoot on a considerable part of an extensive valley in Perthshire, lying at the foot of “Schiehallion;” but unfortunately they had not the sole right,—a similar favour had been granted to a lame man, but nolamesportsman, who for some days greatly annoyed them. Start when they would, and take what line they might, Dot-and-go-one with his old pointer was sure to be on the heather before them.
492. “Captain” and “Suwarrow” bore this for some time with greaterapparentpatience than the gentlemen. On one occasion, however, when the inferiority of the ground they were compelled to take was more than usually obvious, “Captain’s” blood was fairlyroused,—he could stand it no longer. Leaving his companion, he crossed at full speed to the other side of the valley,—not, as might possibly be surmised, to wreak his vengeance upon the old pointer,—but, strange to say, to hunt at his best pace the good ground in front of his rival, andraise, notpoint, every grouse he could find. When he conceived he had done enough mischief, or perhaps thought he had driven a fair proportion of birds to LordM——f’sside of the valley, he quietly returned to his usual duties—duties which, be it remarked, he always performed most steadily. As an evidence—on the evening of that very day, instead ofpointing, as was his wont, hedropped, on unexpectedly getting into the midst of a pack, and did not stir an inch until all the birds had successively risen. You will surely thinkhisright to be considered a first-rate tactician is fully proved:—when you read530, you will perhaps allow that “Suwarrow” has an equally good, if not superior, claim to the title.
493. And will not these evidences of great sagacity and, except in the few last cases, instances of good breaking—and they might be multiplied, I was nearly saying,ad infinitum, for every sportsman could furnish some—convince you, that it is our own fault, if our high-bred pointers, setters, and retrievers (which can scarcely be surpassed in docility and intelligence), are indifferently educated? It is not thattheycannot understand, but thatwe, either for want of patience or reflection, cannot make ourselves understood. The fault isours, nottheirs. They might, indeed, almost be taught anything—even things quite opposed to their nature—if we did but act more reasonably, and were not in most cases supinely content to stop so very far short of perfection, apparently grudging a little additional trouble.
RAP.
494. In the “Sporting Magazine” for May, 1834, a likeness is given of an admirable pointer named “Rap,” of whom it is recorded that “he often hunted in the woods with springers and terriers, all which time he played in both characters, and in both excelled. No sooner, however, had he returned to his especial occupation, as a pointer, than he became as steady as ever.”
495. I knew intimately an excellent shot (T.F——e, of the 76th), who, some years ago, during one of the many disturbances in County Tipperary, was quartered with a detachment of men at a gentleman’s house, in rather a wild part of the country. The proprietor kept a small scratch-pack of harriers, with which the officer’s pointer, called Shot, became very intimate. When the hunting season commenced, Shot accompanied them to the field, joined in the chase, and performed uncommonly well; indeed, he frequently led the pack, and yet, singular to say, he continued as steady as possible when he was shot to. As you may well suppose, it was a source of much fun and laughter to the Nimrods to see, regularly hunting with their harriers, a dog which possibly had stanchly pointed at birds the preceding day.
496. Though I had bred and educated him myself,—he was the dog of which I spoke (139) as behaving so well on the Galtee mountainswhen first shown game,—no one could be more surprised than I was at hearing of so novel a display of intelligence. It is partly to be accounted for by the fact, that none of his high animal spirits and self-confidence had been destroyed by severity in breaking. I can conscientiously aver that I do not think I whipped him more than twice in the whole course of his training, and I am certain not once harshly; and his next owner was equally kind,—I might more correctly say, equally judicious.
MR.B——E’SDROPPER.
497. As a dog that loves you, and possesses proper self-confidence,—though, at the same time, he entertains due respect for your authority,—will always exert himself to the best of his abilities to please, it remains but for you to direct those abilities aright. “Shot,” you see,pointedandhuntedon alternate days. A little bitch, that I knew, would, on the same day, set alternately different kinds of game, according to the wishes of her master. She belonged to a Mr.B——e, near Templemore, and, with the exception that she had no established judicious range, was one of the most killing dogs to be met with in a long drive. She was an ugly, short-tailed dropper; in appearance not worth three half-crowns. She was capital on snipe; but on the bogs, if you were in expectation of meeting with grouse, and, in consequence, refused to fire at one or two snipes, and slightly scolded her for pointing them, she would immediately leave off noticing them, confining herself entirely to hunting for grouse. If you shot a snipe, and showed it to her, she would immediately recommence seeking for the long-bills. But this would be a dangerous lesson to teach a dog ever likely to be required on the moors. A dog trained for grouse should invariably be rated whenever he notices snipe; lest, after toiling up the side of a mountain on a broiling day, in expectation of hearing the exciting “Whirr-r whirr-r,” you be only greeted with the disappointing “Skeap, skeap.” On the other hand, if you live in the lowlands, and think you may hereafter wish to take your dog out snipe-shooting, make him occasionally point one in the early part of his education. It is often difficult to bring a partridge-dog to notice snipe, whereas a snipe-dog will readily acknowledge partridge on account of the stronger scent.
RUSSIAN SETTER.“Difficult to procure even in Russia of a pure breed.”—Par.498.Larger image(235 kB)
RUSSIAN SETTER.“Difficult to procure even in Russia of a pure breed.”—Par.498.
Larger image(235 kB)
498. Many sportsmen are of opinion that droppers inherit more of the bad than the good qualities of their parents; but occasionally one of a litter, like Mr.B——e’sbitch, turns out an admirable dog, and proves a valuable exception to the supposed rule. Sometime since I heard an officer of the Engineers expatiating upon the excellent qualities of a dropper (by his pointer “Guy”) out of a Russian setter, which, as he said, belonged to me many years ago: but he was mistaken. I never possessed one. I wish I had; for I hear the breed is capital,—that they are very easily broken,—are very intelligent,—have excellent noses, and great endurance, but not much speed,—and never forget what has been once taught them: in this respect more resembling pointers than our setters, which are often wild at the beginning of a season. Could we, by judicious crossing, improve them half as much as we did the old heavySpanish pointer.[93]what glorious dogs we should possess! It is, however, very difficult to procure them even in Russia of a pure breed; for so few sportsmen in that country think of shooting according to our system, that but little attention is paid to their fine setters.
RIVAL KEEPERS.
499. If your patience is not exhausted, you shall hear (as told me by an old commanding officer of mine, MajorS——n) how, many years ago, a bet was decided in the Highlands, as to the perfection in dog-breaking attained by two rival keepers. It was in the month of August, and there was plenty of game. The dogs produced by the two competitors performed so brilliantly,—were hunted so noiselessly,—quartered their ground so systematically and independently,—and worked so zealously, yet cautiously, that the awarding of the palm seemed to be a difficult matter. At length one of the keepers obtained the decision of the umpires in his favour by the following feat. He made his three dogs, in obedience to a low whistle and a sign, at a moment when all three were separately setting, retreat from their several points without flushing any of the birds, and take up each other’s points, each dog remaining stationary until he was individually shot over. This great command, I suppose, but I cannot assert it positively, must have been gained by much such kennel discipline as is described in30. It would appear, too, as if a distinct whistle or note had been employed for each dog (505).
500. I only advocate instruction that is really useful; therefore, I merely mention this instance of excellent breaking as another evidence of the great perfection to which our well-bred dogscanbe brought: and as it is certain they can reach such perfection, I think you will admit that everyhigh-priced dogought to be far better educated than is customary. Indeed, I trust, if you are an enthusiast on the subject, that you will not only agree with me in requiring that he be as fully made as I have described, and as I am of opinion is absolutely necessary (393), but that occasionally you will wish him to be yet further instructed in some of the still higher accomplishments or refinements which, if you are willing, we will now proceed to consider.
DISTINGUISHING WHISTLES. “BACKING” THE GUN. RETREAT FROM AND RESUMPTION OF POINT. RANGE UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN. HEADING RUNNING BIRDS.
501. A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG; disadvantage of employing but one Whistle for several Dogs; supposed Case.—502. Another Case.—503. Third Case.—504. Reader will admit correctness of reasoning.—505. Dissimilar Whistles, or distinct notes on one whistle.—506. Boatswain’s Whistle almost a musical instrument.—507. Railway Whistles; Porteous’: general Rule for whistling.—508. Porteous’ newly-invented Dog Whistles.—509. DOG TO BACK THE GUN; how taught; it creates Caution; in Note, sagacity of Fawn Antelope in concealing itself; want of like sagacity in Pea-fowl. Portable rest for Rifle.—510. Advantage of Dog backing the Gun.—511. American Wood-duck.—512. DOG TO RETREAT FROM POINT AND RESUME IT.—513. How taught.—514. Shows dog object for which he is hunted.—515. Not taught too early.—516. Dog’s Consciousness of its Object.—517. Pointer doing it spontaneously.—518. Setter which was taught to do it.—519. Surprising author by volunteering the feat.—520. Irish Setter retreating from, and resuming point at Hare.—521. Bitch that barked when pointing and hid in cover.—522. DOG TO HUNT FROM LEEWARD TO WINDWARD, UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN; how taught.—523. AcarefulDog running down wind would not spring birds.—524. The great Advantages of the Accomplishment.—525. DOG TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS; could be taught.—526. Tolfrey’s “Sportsman in France.”—527. Instance of Dog’s spontaneously heading, and thus intercepting, red-legged Partridges.—528,529.M——i’s“Albert” volunteering to head Guinea-birds.—530. LordM——f’s“Suwarrow” spontaneously heading running Grouse; then keeping his stern towards them.—531. How accounted for.—532. Not so extraordinary had the Dog been taught to hunt “unaccompanied by Gun.”—533. The accomplishment taught by “lifting;” not commenced first season. In Note, “Niger’s” spontaneously running to further side of hedge to drive birds to this side.—534. Could be taught as easily as Shepherds’ Collies are instructed.—535. Particularly useful where the red-legged Partridge is found. Shooting in Africa.
A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG.
501. Though you may have only begun to shoot last season, have you not often wished to attract the attention of one of your two dogs, and make him hunt in a particular part of the field, but, for fear of alarming thebirds, have been unwilling to call out his name, and have felt loth to whistle to him, lest you should bring away at the same time the other dog, who was zealously hunting exactly where you considered him most likely to find birds.
WHISTLES.
502. Again: have the dogs never been hunting close together instead of pursuing distinct beats; and has it not constantly happened, on your whistling with the view to separate them, thatbothhave turned their heads in obedience to the whistle, andbothon your signal changed the direction of their beat, but still thetwo together? And have you not, in despair of ever parting them by merely whistling and signalling, given the lucky birds (apparently in the most handsome manner, as if scorning to take any ungenerous advantage) fair notice of the approach of the guns by shouting out the name of one of the dogs.
503. Or, if one dog was attentive to the whistle, did he not gradually learn to disregard it from observing that his companion was never chidden for neglecting to obey it?—and did not such laxity more and more confirm both in habits of disobedience?
504. I believe several of my readers will be constrained to answer these questions in the affirmative; and, further, I think their own experience will remind them of many occasions, both on moor and stubble when birds were wild, on which they have wished to attract the notice of a particular dog (perhaps running along a hedge, or pottering over a recent haunt; or hunting down wind towards marked game) bywhistlinginstead of calling out his name, but have been unwilling to do so, lest the other dogs should likewise obey the shrill sound to which all were equally accustomed.
DIFFERENT NOTES.
505. Now, in breaking young dogs, you could, byusing whistles of dissimilar calls, easily avoid the liability of these evils; and by invariably employing a particular whistle for each dog to summon him separately to his food (30), each would distinguish his own whistle as surely as every dog knows his own master’s whistle, and as hounds learn their names. Dogs not only know their own names, but instantly know by the pronunciation when it is uttered by a stranger. To prevent mistakes, each dog’s name might be marked on his own whistle. You might have two whistles, of very different sound, on one short stock. Indeed,onewhistle would be sufficient for two dogs, if you invariably sounded the same two or three sharp short notes for one dog, and as invariably gave a sustained note for the other. Nay, the calls could thus be so diversified, that one whistle might be used for even more than two dogs.
506. Whoever has heard the boatswain of a man-of-war piping all hands on deck, must think his whistle, from the variety of its tones, almost a musical instrument; but it could not well be employed for dogs, as they would not understand it when sounded by any one but their master.
507. Railways have led to the introduction of new whistles. Porteous, the band-master at Chelsea College (whose Light Infantry Field Pipe is well-known to military men), has exercised his ingenious talents in making several, but they are too shrill to be of much service to the sportsman. The acorn (or bell pattern) has, however, a much softer tone, yet it, too, makes an awful noise.
But whatever whistle you choose to employ, be sure, both in and out of the field, to sound it softly whenever the dog is near you. Indeed, you would act judiciously to make it a constant rule, wherever he may be,never to whistle louder than is really requisite, otherwise (as I think I before remarked) he will, comparatively speaking, pay little attention to its summons, when, being at a distance, he hears it but faintly.
508. I wrote to Mr. Porteous, explaining how much a whistle was wanted that might be used by the most unmusical person, yetgive distinct unvarying sounds, so that no dog could mistake his own whistle, let it be blown by whom it might. He at once understood what was required, and has invented one with a slide that answers well for two dogs. He told me that he was making further improvements, and expected to contrive one which would answer for as many as three or four dogs. Messrs. Stevens, Darlington Works, Southwark-bridge Road, are the manufacturers.
BACKING THE GUN.
TO BACK THE GUN.
509. In shooting, especially late in the season, you will often mark down a bird, and feel assured that you stand a better chance of getting a shot at it if the dogs cease hunting whilst you approach it. You can teach your dog to do this by holding up your right handbehindyou when you mark down a bird, saying at the same time, “Toho,” in an earnest, quiet voice, and carrying your gun as if you were prepared to shoot. He will soon begin, I really must say it, toback you,—for he actually will be backing you, ludicrous as the expression may sound. After a few times he will do so on the signal, without your speaking at all; and he will be as pleased, as excited, and as stanch, as if he were backing an old dog. Making him “drop” will not effect your object; for, besides that it in no way increases his intelligence, you may wish him to follow at a respectful distance, while you are stealing along the banks of some stream, &c. Ere long he will become as sensible as yourself that any noise would alarm the birds, and you will soon see him picking his steps to avoid the crisp leaves, lest their rustling should betray him. I have even heard of a dog whose admirable caution occasionally led him, when satisfied that his point was observed, to crawl behind a bush, or some other shelter, to screen[94]himself from the notice of the birds.
TELL ME MY HEART (HART) IF THIS BE LOVE.“And took a random chance shot.”—Par.509, Note.
TELL ME MY HEART (HART) IF THIS BE LOVE.“And took a random chance shot.”—Par.509, Note.
510. The acquisition of this accomplishment—and it is easily taught to a young dog previously made steady in backing another (it should not be attempted before)—will often secure you a duck, or other wary bird, which the dog would otherwise, almost to a certainty, springout of gun-shot. If you should “soho” a hare, and wish to kill one, you will have an excellent opportunity of practising this lesson.
511. In America there is a singular duck, called, from its often alighting on trees, the Wood-duck. I have killed some of these beautiful, fast-flying birds, while they were seated on logs overhanging the water, which I could not have approached within gun-shot had the dog not properly backed the gun when signalled to, and cautiously crept after me, still remaining far in the rear.
POINT RESUMED.
TO RETREAT FROM A POINT AND RESUME IT.
512. Amidst coppices, osiers, or broom—indeed, sometimes on a rough moor—you will occasionally lose sight of a dog, and yet be unwilling to call him, feeling assured that he is somewhere steadily pointing; and being vexatiously certain that, when he hears your whistle, he will either leave his point, not subsequently to resume it, or (which is far more probable) amuse himself by raising the game before he joins you. There are moments when you would give guineas if he would retreat from his point, come to you on your whistling, lead you towards the bird, and there resume his point.
513. This accomplishment (and in many places abroad its value is almost inappreciable) can be taught him, if he is under great command, by your occasionally bringing him to heel from a point when he is within sight and near you, and again putting him on his point. You will begin your instruction in this accomplishment when the dog is pointing quite close to you. On subsequent occasions, you can gradually increase the distance, until you arrive at such perfection that you can let him be out of sight when you call him. When he is first allowed to be out of your sight, he ought not to be far from you.
DOG SHOWING HIMSELF.
514. You may, for a moment, think that what is hererecommended contradicts the axiom laid down in359; but it is there said, that nothing ought to make a dog “voluntarily” leave his point. Indeed, the possession of this accomplishment, so far from being productive of any harm, greatly awakens a dog’s intelligence, and makes him perceive, more clearly than ever, that the sole object for which he is taken to the field is to obtain shots for the gun that accompanies him. When he is pointing on your side of a thick hedge, it will make him understand why you call him off;—take him down wind, and direct him to jump the fence: he will at once go to the bird, and, on your encouraging him, force it to rise on your side.
515. You will practise this lesson, however, with great caution, and not before his education is nearly completed, lest he imagine that you do not wish him always to remain stanch to his point. Indeed, if you are precipitate, or injudicious, you may make him blink his game.
516. After a little experience, he will very likely some day satisfactorily prove his consciousness of your object, by voluntarily coming out of thick cover to show you where he is, and again going in and resuming his point.
517. I was once shooting in Ireland with a friend (MajorL——e), late in the season, when we saw a very young pointer do this solely from his own intelligence. Unperceived by either of us he had broken fence, and was out of sight. In vain we whistled and called. At length we saw him on the top of a bank (in that country usually miscalled “ditch”); but the moment he perceived that we noticed him, down he jumped. We went up, and to our great satisfaction found him steadily pointing a snipe. I need not say that he received much praise and many caresses for the feat.
518. I was partridge-shooting a few seasons back with an intimate friend, who was anxious to give me a good day’s sport, when I observed him beckoning to me from a distance. He told me, when I came up to him, that some birds were immediately before him. I was puzzled to conceive how he could know this, for his white setter was alongside of him rolling on her back. He signalled to her to go forward, and sure enough she marched on, straight as an arrow’s flight, to a covey lying on the stubble. In answer to myinquiries, my friend, who seemed to attach no value to the feat, but to take it as a matter of course, told me that he had called the bitch away from her point lest her presence should alarm the birds, and make them take wing before I could come up.
519. As my friend was obliged to return home early, he left the lady with me. I had marked some partridges into the leeward side of a large turnip-field. I could not get her to hunt where I wished; I, therefore, no longer noticed her, but endeavoured to walk up the birds without her assistance. After a time she rejoined me, and ranged well and close. I then proceeded to beat the other part of the field—the part she had already hunted contrary to my wishes. Instead of making a cast to the right or left, on she went, directly ahead, for nearly three hundred yards. I was remarking to my attendant that she must be nearly useless to all but her master, when I observed her come to a stiff point. I then felt convinced that I had done her great injustice,—that she must have found and left this covey, whilst I was hunting far to leeward,—and that she had gone forward to resume her point, as soon as my face was turned in the right direction. On my mentioning all this to her owner, he said he had no doubt but that such was the case, as she would often voluntarily leave game to look for him, and again stand at it on perceiving that he watched her movements.
POINT VOLUNTARILY RESUMED.
520. AnoldKentish acquaintance of mine, though he is still ayoungman, has an Irish setter that behaved in a very similar manner.F——r, having severely wounded a hare in cover, put the dog upon the scent. He immediately took it up, but “roaded” so fast as to be soon out of sight. After a fruitless search for the setter,F——rwas obliged to whistle two or three times, when he showed himself at the end of a ride, and by his anxious looks and motions seemed to invite his master to come on. This he did. The sagacious beast, after turning two corners, at each of which he stopped untilF——rcame up, went into cover and resumed the point, which my friend feels satisfied the dog must have left on hearing the whistle, for the wounded hare, whose leg was broken, was squatted within a yard of him. Such instances of a voluntary relinquishment and resumption of a point, must lead us to think that this accomplishment cannot be very difficult to teach dogs who have been accustomed to the gratification of always seeing their game carefully deposited in the bag.
521. In a capital little treatise on field diversions, written by a Suffolk sportsman upwards of seventy years ago, it is recorded that a pointer bitch, belonging to a Doctor Bigsbye, used to give tongue if she found in cover and was not perceived, and that she would repeatedly bark to indicate her locality until she was relieved from her point.
TO RANGE WITHOUT GUN.
TO HUNT REGULARLY FROM LEEWARD TO WINDWARD WITHOUT THE GUN.
522. In paragraph201I observed, that when you are obliged, as occasionally must be the case, to enter a field to windward with your pupil, you ought to go down to the leeward side of it, keeping him close to your heels, before you commence to hunt. After undeviatingly pursuing this plan for some time, you can, before you come quite to the bottom of the field, send him ahead (by the underhand bowler’s swing of the right hand,iv.of 141), and, when he has reached the bottom, signal to him to hunt to the right (or left). He will be so habituated to work under your eye (176) that you will find it necessary to walk backwards (up the middle of the field), while instructing him. As he becomes, by degrees, confirmed in this lesson, you can sooner and sooner send him ahead (from your heel),—but increase the distances very gradually,—until at length he will be so far perfected, that you may venture to send him down wind to the extremity of the field (before he commences beating), while you remain quietly at the top awaiting his return, until he shall have hunted the whole ground, as systematically and carefully as if you had accompanied him from the bottom. By this method you will teach him, on his gaining more experience, invariably to run to leeward, and hunt up to windward (crossing and re-crossing the wind) whatever part of a field you and he may enter. What a glorious consummation! and it can be attained, but only by great patience and perseverance. The least reflection, however, will show you that you should not attempt it until the dog is perfected in his range.
523. A careful dog, thus practised, will seldom spring birds, however directly he may be running down wind. He will pull up at the faintest indication of a scent, being at all times anxiously on the look-out for the coveted aroma.
524. Not only to the idle or tired sportsman would it be a great benefit to have a field thus beaten, but the keenest and most indefatigable shot would experience its advantages in the cold and windy weather customary in November, when the tameness of partridge-shooting cannot be much complained of; for the birds being then ever ready to take wing, surely the best chance, by fair means, of getting near them would be to intercept them between the dog and yourself. The manœuvre much resembles that recommended in284, but in this you sooner and more directly head the birds.
HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.
525. Here the consideration naturally arises, whether dogs could not betaught(when hunting in the ordinary manner with the dog in rear)
TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.
Certainly it could be done. There have been many instances of old dogsspontaneouslygalloping off, and placing themselves on the other side of the covey (which they had pointed) as soon as they perceived that it was on the run,—and by good instruction you could develop, or rather excite, that exercise of sagacity.
526. Tolfrey (formerly, I believe, of the 43rd) gives, in his “Sportsman in France,” so beautiful an instance of a dog’s untutored intelligence, leading him to see the advantage of thus placing running birds between himself and the gun, that I will transcribe it, although I have already mentioned (end of206) Grouse’s very similar behaviour.
527. “On gaining some still higher ground, the dog drew and stood. She was walked up to, but to my astonishment we found no birds. She was encouraged, and with great difficulty coaxed offher point. She kept drawing on, but with the same ill-success. I must confess I was for the moment sorely puzzled; but knowing the excellence of the animal, I let her alone. She kept drawing on for nearly a hundred yards—still no birds. At last, of her own accord, and with a degree of instinct amounting almost to the faculty of reasoning, she broke from her point, and dashing off to the right made adétour, and was presently straight before me, some three hundred yards off, setting the game whatever it might be, as much as to say, ‘I’ll be ****** if you escape me this time.’ We walked steadily on, and when within about thirty yards of her, up got a covey of red-legged partridges, and we had the good fortune to kill a brace each. It is one of the characteristics of these birds to run for an amazing distance before they take wing; but the sagacity of my faithful dog baffled all their efforts to escape. We fell in with several coveys of these birds during the day, and my dog ever after gave them the double, and kept them between the gun and herself.”
528. Mr.M——i, an officer high in the military store department, wrote to me but last Christmas (1863) almost in the following words:—