CONCLUSION.

SHOW-WOMAN’S DOG.

561. “The tricks consisted of the usual routine of adding up figures, spelling short words, and finding the first letter of any townnamed by one of the company. The last trick was very cleverly done, and puzzled us very much, as we—i.e.the grown-up part of the audience—were most intently watching not him but his mistress, in order to discover what signs she made to guide him in his choice of the cards; but we could not perceive that she moved hand or foot, or made any signal whatever. Indeed, the dog seemed to pay but little regard to her, but to receive his orders direct from any one who gave them. In fact, his teaching must have been perfect, and his intellect wonderful. Now I dare say I shall be laughed at for introducing an anecdote of a learned dog, and told that it was ‘all trick.’ No doubt it was ‘all trick,’ but it was a very clever one, and showed how capable of education dogs are—far more so than we imagine. For here was a dog performing tricks so cleverly that not one out of four or five persons, who were most attentively watching, could find out how he was assisted by his mistress.”

562. In following Beckford’s advice respecting your making, as far as is practicable, your dog your “constant companion,” do not, however, forget that you require him to evince great diligence and perseverance in the field; and, therefore, that his highest enjoyment must consist in being allowed to hunt.

LIBERTIES PERMITTED.

563. Now, it seems to be a principle of nature,—of canine as well as human nature,—to feel, through life, most attachment to that pursuit, whatever it may be, which is most followed in youth. If a dog is permitted as a youngster to have the run of the kitchen, he will be too fond of it when grown up. If he is allowed to amuse himself in every way his fancy dictates, he will think little of the privilege of hunting. Therefore, the hours he cannot pass with you (after you have commenced his education), I am sorry to say it, but I must do so, he ought to be in hiskennel—loose in his kennel,[102]not tied up; for straining at his collar would throw out his elbows, and so make him grow up bandy-legged. If, however, he must be fastened, let itbe by a chain. He would soon learn to gnaw through a cord, especially if a young puppy, who, from nature, is constantly using his teeth, and thus acquire a trick that some day might prove very inconvenient were no chain at hand. You would greatly consult his comfort by having the chain attached, with a loose ring and swivel, to a spike fixed a few paces in front of his kennel, so that he could take some exercise by trotting round and round.

“SELF-HUNTING.”

564. When your dog has attained some age, and hunting has become with him a regular passion, I believe you may give him as much liberty as you please without diminishing his zeal,—but most carefully prevent his ever hunting alone, technically called “self-hunting.” At that advanced time of life, too, a few occasional irregularities in the field may be innocuously permitted. The steadiest dogs will, at times, deviate from the usual routine of their business, sagaciously thinking that such departure from rule must be acceptable if it tends to obtain the game; and it will be advisable to leave an experienced dog to himself whenever he evinces great perseverance in spontaneously following some unusual plan. You may have seen an old fellow, instead of cautiously “roading” and “pointing dead,” rush forward and seize an unfortunate winged bird, while it was making the best use of its legs after the flight of the rest of the covey—some peculiarity in the scent emitted having probably betrayed to the dog’spractisednose that the bird was injured. When your pup arrives at such years of discrimination, you need not so rigorously insist upon a patient “down charge,” should you see a winged cock-pheasant running into cover. Your dog’s habits of discipline would be, I should hope, too well confirmed by his previous course of long drill for such atemporary departure from rule to effect any permanent mischief; but, oh! beware of any such laxity with ayoungpupil, however strongly you may be tempted. In five minutes you may wholly undo the labour of a month. On days, therefore, when you are anxious,coûte qui coûte, to fill the game-bag, pray leave him at home. Let him acquire any bad habit when you are thus pressed for birds, and you will have more difficulty in eradicating it than you would have in teaching him almost any accomplishment. This reason made me all along keep steadily in view the supposition, that you had commenced with a dog unvitiated by evil associates, either biped or quadruped; for assuredly you would find it far easier to give a thoroughly good education to such a pupil, than to complete the tuition (particularly in his range) of one usually considered broken, and who must, in the natural order of things, have acquired some habits more or less opposed to your own system. If, as a puppy, he had been allowed to self-hunt and chase, your labour would be herculean. And inevitably this would have been your task, had you ever allowed him to associate with any dog who “self-hunted.” The oldest friend in your kennel might be led astray by forming an intimacy with the veriest cur, if a “self-hunter.” There is a fascination in the vice—above all, in killing young hares and rabbits,—that the steadiest dog cannot resist when he has been persuaded to join in the sport by some vagabond of a poacher possessing a tolerable nose, rendered keenly discerning by experience.

565. I hope that by this time we too well understand each other for you now to wonder why I think that you should not commence hunting your young dog where game is abundant. Professional breakers prefer such ground, because, from getting plenty of points, it enablesthem to train their dogs more quickly, andsufficiently wellto ensure an early sale. This istheirobject, and they succeed.Myobject is that you shall establishultimatelygreat perseverance and a fine range in your young dog, let birds be ever so scarce. If you show him too many at first, he will subsequently become easily dispirited whenever he fails in getting a point.

ENERGY OF IRISH DOGS.

It is the general paucity of game in Ireland (snipe and woodcock excepted) that makes dogs trained in that country show so much untiring energy and indomitable zeal when hunted on our side of the Channel. But the slight wiry Irish red setter (whom it is so difficult to see on the moor from his colour), is naturally a dog of great pace and endurance. There is, however, a much heavier sort.

566. Many dogs, solely from want of good condition, greatly disappoint their masters at the beginning of the season. You could not expect your hunter to undergo a hard day’s work without a previous course of tolerably severe exercise; and why expect it of your dog? A couple of hours’ quiet exercise in the cool of the morning or evening will not harden his feet, and get him into the wind and condition requisite for the performance you may desire of him some broiling day in the middle of August or early in September. If you do not like to disturb your game, and have no convenient country to hunt over, why should you not give him some gallops before the beginning of the shooting-season, when you are mounted on your trotting hackney? Think how greyhounds are by degrees brought into wind and hard meat before coursing commences. Such work on the road will greatly benefit his feet,[103]particularly if, on his return home in wet weather, they are bathed with a strong solution of salt and water. When the ground is hard and dry, they should be washed with warm water and soap, both to soothe themand to remove all dust and gravel. They might afterwards be gradually hardened by applying the salt and water. When they are inflamed and bruised, almost a magical cure might be effected by their being sponged with a solution of arnica—ten parts of water to one of arnica. Should the dog lick the lotion, dissolve a little aloes in it. If, by-the-bye, you would make it a rule personally to ascertain that attention is always paid to your dogs after a hard day’s work, and not leave them to the tender mercies of an uninterested servant, you would soon be amply repaid for your trouble by their additional performance. Many men make it a rule to send their dogs to the mountains a week or two before the grouse-shooting; but they seldom even then get sufficiently exercised, and their mettle is slacked (confessedly a temporary advantage with half broken,wilddogs), instead of being increased, by finding that, however many points they may make (at squeakers under their nose), they never secure a bird. A month’s road-work, with alterative medicine, is far better.

MUSCLE WANTED, NOT FAT.

567. Dogs severely worked should be fed abundantly on a nutritious diet. Hunters and stage-coach horses have an unlimited allowance, and the work of eager setters and pointers (in a hilly country particularly) is proportionately hard; but the constitutions of dogs vary so greatly that the quantity as well as quality of their diet should be considered; for it must be your aim to obtain the largest development of muscle with the least superfluity of flesh,—that enemy to pace and endurance in dog as surely as in horse and man. Yet this remark does not apply to a water retriever: he should have fat. It is a warm, well-fitting great coat, more impervious to wet than aMackintosh,—furnished by Providence to whales, bears, and all animals that have to contend with cold; and obviously your patient companion will feel the benefit of one when he is shivering alongside you while you are lyingperduin a bed of damp rushes.[104]

NOSE IN CONDITION.

568. Having mentioned condition, I am led to observe, that in America I saw a pointer, which, from being hunted, I may say daily, Sundays excepted, could not be kept in condition on oatmeal and greaves, but which was put in hard flesh, and did his work admirably, when Indian-corn meal was substituted for the oatmeal. I have not seen it used in this country, but I can fancy it to be a heating food, better calculated for dogs at regular hard work than when they are summering.[105]It is well known that no food should be given in a very hot state,—not of a higher temperature than milk-warm; and that evening is the proper feeding-time, in order that the dogs may sleep immediately afterwards, and not be full when they are taken out for their morning’s work.

569. In India, I remember complaining to an old sportsman that I had much difficulty in keeping my dogs free from mange. He at once asked if I did not give them beef-tea with their rice. I acknowledged that I did. He said it was of too heating a nature. I tried mutton-broth, agreeably to his recommendation. Every vestige of mange vanished, but yet I could hardly believe it attributable to so slight a change in their diet, for very little meat was used. As the mutton was much dearer, I again tried the beef. It would not do. The mange reappeared. I was, therefore, obliged to return to the mutton, and continue it. The teeth of dogs show that flesh is a natural diet; and if they are wholly deprived of it when they are young, they will acquire most revolting habits,—feeding upon any filth they may find, and often rolling in it. The meat should be cooked.

570. The good condition of a dog’s nose is far from being an immaterial part of his conditioning, for on the preservation of its sensitiveness chiefly depends your hope of sport. If it be dry from being feverish, or if it be habituated to the villanous smells of an impure kennel, how are you to expect it to acknowledge the faintest taint of game—yet one that, if followed up byolfactory nerves in high order, would lead to a sure find? Sweetness of breath is a strong indication of health. Cleanliness is as essential as a judicious diet; and you may be assured, that if you look for excellence, you must always have your youngster’s kennel clean, dry, airy, and yet sufficiently warm. The more you attend to this, the greater will be his bodily strength and the finer his nose.

In India the kennels are, of course, too hot; but in the best constructed which fell under my observation, the heat was much mitigated by the roofs being thickly thatched with grass. In England, however, nearly all kennels—I am not speaking of those for hounds—are far too cold in winter.

KENNELS. WARMTH NECESSARY.

571. There must besufficientwarmth. Observe how a petted dog, especially after severe exercise, lays himself down close to the fire, and enjoys it. Do you not see that instinct teaches him to do this? and must it not be of great service to him? Why, therefore, deny him in cold weather, after a hard day’s work, a place on the hearth-rug? It is the want of sufficient heat in the kennels, and good drying and brushing after hard work, that makes sporting dogs, particularly if they are long-coated ones, suffer from rheumatism, blear eyes, and many ills that generally, but not necessarily, attend them in old age. The instance given in226is a proof of this.

Winter pups, you are told, are not so strong as those born in summer. They would be, if they were reared in a warm room. The mother’s bodily heat cannot warm them; for after a while, they so pull her about and annoy her, that she either leaves them for a time, or drives them from her.

VACCINATION FOR DISTEMPER.

572. As I have casually touched on puppies, I will take the opportunity of recommending, according to the plan adopted by some sportsmen, and of which I have experienced the advantage, that you have a whole litter, soon after it has been weaned, (provided it be in a healthy state), inoculated for the distemper,—a small feather, previously inserted in the nose of a diseased dog, being for an instant put up the nostrils of the puppies. It will benecessary to keep them unusually warm,[106]and feed them high, while they are suffering from the effects of this treatment. It is not likely that you will lose any; but if you should, the loss will be small compared with that of an educated dog at a mature age. The extent of the mischief will probably be a slight cough, with a little running at the nose for a few days.

573. Having heard that vaccination would greatly mitigate the distressing symptoms of distemper, if not entirely remove all susceptibility to infection, I endeavoured to possess myself with the facts of the case. Circumstances were thus brought to my knowledge which appear so interesting, that a brief detail of them may not be unacceptable to some of my readers. It would seem that vaccination might be made as great a blessing to the canine race as it has proved to mankind:—that is to say, many experienced men are still of that opinion. All that I heard of material import is nearly embodied in letters I received, some years ago, from Mr.L——e, of Neat’s Court, Isle of Sheppey, an intelligent sportsman, much attached to coursing. As I am sure he will not object to my doing so, I will quote largely from his notes. He writes nearlymot-à-mot.

574. “It is with pleasure that I answer yours of this morning, and give you what little information I can respecting the vaccination of my puppies. Mr. Fellowes, who resided about eight years since at 34, Baker Street, was the first person from whom I learned anything on the subject. He was a great breeder of bull-dogs, of all the canine race the most difficult to save in distemper, greyhounds being, perhaps, the next on the list.[107]He told me that in twelve years he had lost but two puppies, and those not, he believed, from distemper, and yet he had regularly bred every year.

575. “I went to town purposely to see him operate upon a clutch. The method is very simple. Take a small piece of floss silk, and draw the end through a needle. On about the middle of the silk place some matter (when in a proper state) extracted from a child’s arm. Unfold (throw back) the ear so as to be able to see the interior part near the root. You will then perceive a little projecting knob or kernel almost detached from the ear. With the needle pierce through this kernel. Draw the silk each way till the blood starts. Tie the ends of the silk, and the process is completed. You may let the silk remain there: it will drop off after a time. The object is to deposit the matter by this method, instead of employing a lancet. I have great faith in the efficacy of the plan, simple as it appears. With me it has never failed. For some years in succession I dropped a clutch of greyhounds and two litters of setters, and not a single pup had the distemper more severely than for the disease to be just perceptible. A little opening medicine thenquickly removed that slight symptom of illness. Perhaps the best age to operate upon puppies is when they are well recovered from their weaning.”

576. The balance of testimony and experience is, in my opinion, quite in favour of vaccination; but there are authorities of weight who think that no good results from it. It is, however, certain that it cannot be productive of harm. Blaine writes that, as far as his experience went, “vaccination neither exempts the canine race from the attack of the distemper, nor mitigates the severity of the complaint.” He adds, however, that the point was still at issue.

577. It appears right to observe that Blaine and Jenner were contemporaries at a period when the medical world was greatly opposed to the vaccination of children. It is not surprising, therefore, that there should have been an unjust prejudice against the vaccination of puppies. Youatt is altogether silent on the subject, although he quotes Dr. Jenner’s description of distemper. Colonel Cook, in his observations on fox-hunting, &c., says, “Vaccination was tried in some kennels as a preventive, but it failed, and was abandoned.” Mayhew[108]does not allude to it.

578. Not until after the foregoing remarks on vaccination were written, was I aware that Colonel Hawker recommended the plan, or, of course, I should, in former editions, have quoted such high authority. Speaking in 1838, he observes, “I have ever since adopted the plan of vaccination; and so little, if any, has been the effect of distemper after it, that I have not lost a dog since the year 1816.”—“This remedy has been followed with great success both here and in the United States. The plan adopted is to insert a small quantity of vaccine matter under each ear, just as you would do in the human arm.”

579. I know of many dogs in the south of England having been cured of a regular attack of distemper by a lump of salt, about the size of a common marble, being occasionally forced down their throats; say, for a grown-up pointer, half a dozen doses, with an interval of two or three hours between each. The salt acts as an emetic. Nourishing food and warmth are very requisite.

MEDICINE, HOW GIVEN.

580. To some few of my readers it may possibly be of use to observe, that with a little management, it is very easy to trick a dog into taking medicine.

581. If your patient is a large animal, make a hole in a piece of meat, and having wrapped the physic in thin paper, shove it into the hole. Throw the dog one or two bits of meat, then the piece containing the medicine, and the chances are that he will bolt it without in the least suspecting he has been deceived. A pill, enveloped in silver paper, emits no smell. If a powder is wellrubbed up with butter, and a little at a time of the mixture be smeared over the animal’s nose, he will lick it off and swallow it. Powders can also be placed between thin slices of bread and butter, and be so administered. If you are treating a small pampered favourite, probably a little previous starvation will assist you.

582. Should you fail in your stratagems, and force be necessary, it will be best to lay the dog on his back, or place him in a sitting posture between your knees, with his back towards you. In either position his legs are useless to him, as they have no fulcrum. While you are making him open his mouth, if you do this by forcing your thumb and fingers between his grinders, you can effectually protect yourself from a bite by covering them with the dog’s own lips—any powders then placed far back on the tongue near the throat must be swallowed on the dog’s mouth being firmly closed for a few seconds. He will not be able to eject them as they will adhere to his moist tongue. If given with a little dry sugar they will be the less nauseous, and therefore the dog will be less disposed to rebel when next you have occasion to act the part of a doctor.

583. Castor oil is a valuable medicine for dogs; and it is a good plan to let a pup occasionally lap milk into which a little of this oil is poured, as then he will not in after life dislike the mixture.

DOG NOT TO BE LENT.

584. I have still one very important direction to give:NEVER LEND YOUR DOG. It may seem selfish, but if you make him a really good one, I strongly advise you never to lend him to any one not even to a brother, unless, indeed, his method of hunting be precisely the same as your’s. If you are a married man, you will not, I presume, lend your wife’s horse to any one who has a coarse hand; you would at least do it with reluctance; but you ought (I hope she will forgive my saying so) to feel far more reluctance and far more grief, should you be obliged to lend a good dog to an ignorant sportsman or to one who shoots for the pot.

585. Gentle Reader, according to the courteous phraseology of old novels, though most probably I ought to say, Brother Sportsman;—if you have had the patience to attend me through the preceding pages, while I have been describing the educational course of a dog from almost his infancy, up to maturity, I will hope that I may construe that patience into an evidence that they have afforded you some amusement and, perhaps, some useful instruction.

586. Though I may have failed in persuading you to undertake the instruction of your dogs yourself, yet I trust I have shown you how they ought to be broken in;[109]and if you are a novice in the field, I hope I have clearly explained to you in what manner they ought to be shot over,—a knowledge which no one can possess by intuition, and which you will find nearly as essential to the preservation of the good qualities of well-tutored dogs, as to the education of uninformed ones.

587. I believe that all I have said is perfectly true, and, as the system which I have described advocates kind treatment of man’s most faithful companion, and his instruction with mildness rather than severity, I trust that you will be induced to give it a fair trial, and if you find it successful, recommend its adoption.

588. I dare not ask for the same favour at the hands of the generality of regular trainers—I have no right to expect such liberality. They, naturally enough, will not readily forgive my intruding upon what they consider exclusively their own domain,—and, above all, they will not easily pardon my urging every sportsman to break in his own dogs. They will, I know, endeavour to persuade their employers that the finished education which I have described is useless, or quite unattainable, without a great sacrifice of time;[110]and that, therefore, the system which I advocate is a badone. They will wish it to be forgotten—that I advise a gradual advance, step by step, from the A, B, C;—that accomplishments have only been recommendedafterthe acquisition of essentials—never at the expense of essentials;—that at any moment it is in the instructor’s power to say, “I am now satisfied with the extent of my pupil’s acquirements, and have neither leisure nor inclination to teach him more;”—and that they cannot suggest quicker means of imparting any grade of education, however incomplete; at least they do not—I wish they would; few would thank them more than myself.

CAUSE OF AUTHOR’S WRITING.

589. Greatly vexed at the erroneous way in which I saw some dogs instructed in the north by one, who from his profession should have known better, I promised, on the impulse of the moment, to write. If I could have purchased any work which treated the subject in what I considered a judicious and perspicuous manner, and, above all, which taught by what means afinishededucation could be imparted, I would gladly have recommended the study of it,—have spared myself the trouble of detailing the results of my own observations and experience,—and not have sought to impose on any one the task of reading them. When I began the book, and even when I had finished it, I intended to put it forth without any token by which the writer might be discovered. Mr. Murray, however, forcibly presented that unless the public had some guaranteefor the fidelity of the details, there would be no chance of the little work being circulated, or proving useful; therefore, having written solely from a desire to assist my brother sportsmen, and to show the injudiciousness of severity, with a wish that my readers might feel as keen a zest for shooting as I once possessed, and with a charitable hope that they might not be compelled to seek it in as varied climates as was my lot, I at once annexed my address and initials to the manuscript, but with no expectation that my pen could interest the public half as much as it would a favourite Skye terrier, well known in Albemarle Street.

United Service Club,Pall Mall.

BRISK.

BRISK.

TO THE SECOND EDITION, REPRINTED IN THIS.

MR.L——G’SLETTER.

Sometime after the foregoing sheets were numbered and prepared for the press, I received a letter on the subject of dogs and dog-breaking from Mr.L——g(spoken of in183).

I had long ago requested him freely to make remarks upon my book, assuring him that as I had only written from a wish to be serviceable, I could not but take all his comments in good part, however much they might be opposed to my pre-conceived ideas. I further promised to mention his criticisms for the benefit of my future readers, if I considered them judicious.

Every man is fully entitled to form an opinion for himself: and as there are minor points—though on most we are fully agreed—in which Mr.L——gand myself slightly differ, I think it the fairest plan to let him explain his own views in his own way, and I have the less hesitation in doing so as, to most sportsmen, a letter from a clever sportsman on his favourite subject must always be more or less interesting. He writes nearly word for word as follows:—

“7,Haymarket, January, 1850.

“Sir,—On perusing your book on dog-breaking I really find little, if anything, to say that will assist you in your new edition; but I must observe that I think you would be doing a service to the community, if you would lend a helping hand to improve the breed of pointers; or rather to get up a sort of committee of sportsmen (thorough judges) to investigate into the pedigree of dogs, and express their opinion of the make, nose, durability, &c., of the several animals submitted to them; that prizes might be awarded, or stakes hunted for; and books kept of the pedigree of the several competitors, much in the same way as such matters are managed with greyhounds.

“It is of no consequence how fast a dog travels who is wanted for the moors, or how wide he ranges; but such a dog would be worse than useless in the south, and in all small enclosures. I feel assured that dogs which are first-rate on grouse are not fitted for partridge. My experience tells me that not one dog in twenty is worth keeping,—that the generality do far more harm than good,—this I see almost every day that I am out. There seem to be now-a-days no recognised thorough-bred pointers, but those obtained from one or two kennels in Yorkshire. I have shot over many north-country dogs, but found there was too much of the fox-hound blood in them for the south,—they are too high-couraged, and range much too far. After the firstfortnight of partridge-shooting you want quiet, close rangers who will never move until told. In the turnip-fields in Norfolk you will get among lots of birds, and you may then fill your bag any day, provided you can hunt the field in perfect quiet; but with a rattling, blustering dog you will hardly get a shot,—yet you want a dog that shall be neither too large nor too heavy.

“Not one dog in fifty of the many I see, properly hunts his ground. The reason is this. The keepers in the north,—yet none understand their duties better,—take out a lot of dogs along with an old one; off they all start like oiled lightning—some one way, the others just the contrary: one gets a point, they all drop and stop. The keepers say, is not that beautiful?—is it not a picture for Landseer? I have followed the party on the moors over the self-same ground a dozen of times, and obtained with my brace of close rangers and good finders double the number of shots that they did, and three times the amount of game; for I was walking at my ease, and giving my dogs time to make out the birds—which is very essential in the middle of the day, when there is a scorching sun.

“I recollect one instance in particular. Some years ago I had just arrived at the top of a very stiff hill on the Bradfield Moors (in Yorkshire), and was making for a certain spring where I had forwarded my luncheon, and a fresh supply of ammunition, when I saw, immediately before me, two gentlemen with their keepers, and four very good-looking setters, hunting the precise ground I had to take to get to my point—about a mile off. I therefore sat down for a quarter of an hour to let them get well ahead. They found several straggling birds; but there was such a noise from the keepers rating and hallooing to the dogs, that, although they got five or six shots, they only bagged one brace of birds. When they reached the spring, they observed me coming over the very ground they had beat only a quarter of an hour before. I got ten shots, every one to points, and killed nine birds. I was highly complimented on the beautiful, quiet style of my dogs, &c., and was offered a goblet of as fine old sherry as man ever drunk. I need not observe that I much relished it after my morning’s walk. The gentlemen said, that if I felt disposed to take the dogs to the Tontine Inn, Sheffield, when I had done with them, I should find fifty guineas there awaiting me; but I declined the offer, as on several occasions I had repented having yielded to the temptation of a long price for favourite dogs. The brace I refused to sell were young setters, bred by Tom Cruddas, keeper to—Bowes, Esq., near Barnard Castle, Durham. I subsequently found them very unfitted for the style of work required in small fields and indifferent stubble, and I was well beaten in a trial with them against a brace of Russian setters. I afterwards procured the latter by exchanging my Englishmen for them. For two years I was much pleased with the foreigners, and bred some puppies from them; they did not, however, turn out to my satisfaction. I then tried a cross with some of the best dogs I could get in England and from Russia, but could never obtain any so good as the original stock. I have now got into a breed of red and white pointers from the splendid stock of the lateSir Harry Goodrich, and many and many another hundred head of game should I have killed,—and in much greater comfort and temper should I have shot,—had I possessed so perfect a breed twenty years ago.

“As a proof of what can be done with dogs, I will mention that I broke in a spaniel to hunt (with my setters) in the open as well as in cover, and made him ‘point,’ ‘back,’ and ‘drop to charge,’ as perfectly as any dog you ever saw; and he would, when ordered, retrieve his game; the setter, meanwhile, never moving until desired. I shot over them for two years. They were a very killing pair, but had not a sporting look. In September, ’38, I took them with me to that excellent sportsman, Sir Richard Sutton. The old Squire Osbaldiston, was there. They were both much pleased with the dogs. By letting my poor pet ‘Dash’ run about, he was bitten by a mad dog in the neighbourhood. Of course I lost him.

“Speaking of spaniels, I must say I think that there is no kind of dog that retrieves birds so well in thick turnips, where so much dead and wounded game is frequently left unbagged. With ‘Dash’ I seldom lost a feather in the strongest turnips in the course of a whole day; but I now rarely go out with sportsmen but that I see two or three birds lost,—sometimes more,—from what aresaidto be the best breed of retrievers in the country. The constant loss of wounded birds is one of the drawbacks to the Norfolk shooting, where, without doubt, the finest shooting in England is to be obtained. Gentlemen there go out, some four, five, or six in a line, with only one or two retrievers, and a man to each to pick up the killed game. The sportsmen never stop to load, for each has generally a man by his side with a spare gun ready charged. If a bird is winged, or a hare wounded, the dogs go in at once to fetch it. Were the sportsmen to divide into distinct parties, each party taking one or two steady, close-ranging dogs, what much more true sport and pleasure they would have!—and kill, too, quite as much game.

“You ask me wherein I differ from you in what you have written? Certainly in very little,—and I have sent several gentlemen to Murray’s for copies of your book; but in page 3, you say that ‘dog-breaking does not require much experience.’ There I cannot agree with you,—for how is it that there are so few who understand it? Not one keeper or gentleman in a thousand, in my opinion. The reason is that they have not sufficient practice and experience.[111]

“In another point I differ with you. I have seen some of the best rangers I ever shot over made by being allowed to follow their mother in the field, or some very old dog,[112]—what some people would term a worn-out potterer. But I think it a yet better plan to attach a lay-cord of about forty yards in length to the collar of the young dog, and let a man or boy hold the other end. You will give a slightwhistle when he gets to the extremity of his range, and a wave of the hand to turn him forward or back.[113]By such means I have seen dogs, with a few days’ constant shooting, made perfect in that,—themost essentialthing in all dog-breaking.

“I observe that you condemn the check-collar[114]in toto. I think you are wrong. I have seen dogs cured by it who would not drop to shot, but would perpetually rush in, especially if a wounded bird was fluttering near them, and who had been most unmercifully licked, to no useful purpose. I recollect orders being given to destroy a dog that appeared utterly incorrigible. As he was a beautiful ‘finder,’ I begged that he might be allowed one more trial. I sent to town for a check-collar, and in a few hours he was pulled head over heels half-a-dozen times. He then found out what he was punished for, squatted down accordingly, and never afterwards attempted to rush forward, unless he was over-fresh. You speak of hares not annoying your dogs in Scotland. I have been sadly annoyed by them when grouse-shooting there. In one part, from hares jumping up every five minutes, I had great difficulty in restraining my dogs from chasing; and on this occasion I found the check-collar quite a blessing,—for had I used the whip I should have been thrown off my shooting, and the noise would have disturbed the birds. I had at the time two of the best shots in England shooting against me, and I should to a certainty have been beaten had I not been so prudent as to take out the collar.

“I remember selling to a young officer a brace of my puppies, or rather young dogs (for they were eighteen months old), for twenty-five guineas. They were well broken, but had not been shot over. He had not been an hour on the moors before up started one of the small Scotch sheep. Both the dogs gave chase, and on their return the keeper was directed to give them a good dressing. One of them would not hunt for them again, and became so timid that the officer desired the keeper to get rid of it. It was given to a gentleman in the neighbourhood, who knew he could not be far away in accepting it, as it had been bred and sold by me. He took it out a few times and soon found out its value. The other dog the officer sold for 10l., and then wrote a very angry letter to me, complaining of my having sold him such a brace as well broken. A fortnight after this he invited the gentleman who had become possessor of the shy puppy to come and shoot with him. The gentleman made his appearance with, what he termed, his ‘shy friend.’ After many protestations againsttaking out such a brute, it was agreed that it should be done on the gentleman’s offering to bet 5l.that his ‘shy friend’ would get more points than either of the dogs they proposed hunting; and another 5l.that he should prove himself the best broken of the dogs, and never during the whole day offer to chase hare or sheep. The bets were not made, but to show you the esteem in which his late master afterwards held the animal, he offered fifty guineas to get her back, but the money was refused. His brother also turned out a magnificent dog—so much for want of patience.

“It is just possible that all I have written may be of no use,—but should you find it of any, it is quite at your service. Since I last saw you I have had many more opportunities of observing the extraordinary nose of the dog I showed you—a quality in which I fancy forty-nine out of fifty dogs are deficient. I sent him down to Hickfield-place, Hants, for the Speaker, who is an excellent sportsman, to use for a few times to see if he was not superior to his dogs. He returned the dog with a very handsome basket of game, saying he was one of the finest dogs he had ever seen hunted, and he begged me to get him a brace of the same kind against next season; stating that the price would be no consideration if they proved as good as mine. I have tried him against many other old dogs,saidto be ‘the best in England,’ but not one of them had a shadow of a chance against him. I have refused a very long price for him. For beauty, style, symmetry, nose, durability, and good temper (a great thing), none can beat him. I should like to increase his breed for the sake of the shooting community; yet I have no wish to keep him publicly as a sire, nor to send him away. I think I should be doing a general benefit, if I gave it out that his services could be obtained for three guineas: and that the sums thus obtained were to be set aside as a prize for the best dog, to be contended for by competitors who should give 3l.or 5l.each. Something of this kind, could, I think, be managed, and it would greatly tend to improve our breed of pointers. I bought a bitch with the view of getting some pups by him. She had nine, but not one like the father, grandfather, or great-grandfather—so I sold her, puppies and all. I have just purchased another; she comes of an excellent stock, and has good shape. I shall see what luck I have with her. She is a far more likely dam.

“I should have written to you long ago, had I not expected to meet the person I term my Yorkshire breeder. He isthe best breaker I ever saw, and a man you can depend upon. He and his father, for sixty years, have borne as high a character for honesty, as for excellence in breaking. Many a time has he contended, and always come off victor, against Mr. Edge’s dogs—a good trial kennel, but the breed have savage dispositions, bad tempers, and are very unmanageable when young. I have tried many of them myself, and have no faith in them.

“On the moors, when the work is excessively fatiguing, and plenty of water is generally to be found, you may with advantage employ setters: but in a hot September, in England, when no water could be procured, I have known some of the best setters I ever sawdo nothing but put up the birds. In mid-day, when there was but little scent, their nasal organs seemed quite to fail them, and being fast they constantly ran into coveys before they could stop themselves.

“I was once asked to be umpire in a match between a pointer and a setter. It was to be decided by which of the dogs got most points in the day. As this was the agreement, I was obliged to abide by it and decide accordingly: but that is not the test by which the superiority of dogs ought to be determined. I presume what is really wanted in a dog isusefulness to his master in killing game. If so, that dog ought to be considered best which gets his master most shots within a rise not exceeding forty yards.[115]The setter being faster and taking a much wider range, got by far the most points, therefore I was compelled to award him the prize; but the pointer made twenty-two points to which the party got twenty-one shots. The setter got thirty points, but only sixteen of them could be shot to, and he put up thrice as many birds as the pointer. I could mention twenty other similar instances of trials between pointers and setters, but I should fill half-a-dozen more sheets and not interest you. It is getting dark, so I will conclude my long yarn.

“I am, Sir,“Your obedient servant,(Signed)  “Josh. Lang.”

What convenient covers they are—and what excellent shelter they furnish for game, when planted with holly, laurel, and other evergreens!—especially if the proprietor, in a moment of sporting enthusiasm, has consented to his keeper’s request, and had some of the trees half-felled, so that the branches lying on the ground live and grow, deriving nourishment from the sap still flowing through the uncut bark. Perhaps gorse forms the best ground cover for the preservation of game; but it is far from being the most agreeable to shoot in. It has, however, a great merit—it is much disliked by poachers. There should be good roosting-trees; and the different kinds of fir—spruce particularly—give most security, their thick, spreading branches affording much concealment at all seasons of the year. They are, too, of quick growth. But the most favourably planted covers will prove unattractive unless there is a constant supply of water within a reasonable distance. An old brother officer of mine, who has property in Suffolk, argues,—and most will think correctly,—that for the preservation of game, beltings should not run round the external part of an estate (as is often the case,) but lie well within it, and at some distance from a high road.

Talking of beltings and pheasants, as some sporting Griffin (to use an Indian expression) may come across this book, I may as well, for his sake, mention, that pheasants are generally prevented from running to the further end of a belting, and then rising in one dense cloud, by a man sent ahead striking two sticks together, or making some other slight noise which, without too much alarming the birds, yet prevents their running past him. As the guns approach him he gets further forward and takes up another position, keeping wide of the cover whilst he is on the move. Should the Griffin make one of the shooting party, he is advised to bear in mind that the guns should keep close to the hedge (or rails), that any game on the point of “breaking” may not so readily observe them, and in consequence beat a retreat. By-the-bye, my young friend, should you wish your host to give you another invitation to his covers never let him see you carrying your barrels horizontally. If you are a bit of a soldier you will know what I mean when I say that, combining due preparation for prompt action with security to him who may be skirmishing near, your gun can be conveniently borne across the open at the “Slope arms” of the sergeant’s fusil. When you are in cover (or your dog draws upon game), it might be carried much in the position of “Port arms.” At the moment you level, following the example of the best pigeon shots, place your left hand well in advance of the poise. Ifyou have any fears of the barrels bursting, leave them at home. Your steadiest position is with the elbow held nearly perpendicularly under the gun: whereas your right elbow ought to be almost in a horizontal line with your shoulder, thus furnishing a convenient hollow for the reception of the butt. The firmer you grasp the stock the less is the recoil. That amusing fellow Wanostrocht, in his work on cricketing (“Felix on the Bat”), writes, “The attitude ofen gardeof the left-handed swordsman is the attitude ofplayfor the right-handed batsman,”—and you, my supposed Griffin, may rest assured that it is the best position your feet and legs can take on a bird’s rising, but the right foot might be with advantage a little more to the right. Wanostrocht continues, “The knees are bent; and the body, well balanced, is prepared,” you may add, “to turn steadily to the right or left according to the flight of the bird.” In nine cases out of ten the common advice to “keep both eyes open” when firing is extremely judicious. But some men are “left-eyed;” a matter you have probably little thought about; and yet it is of consequence, for if you are “left-eyed,” your aim from the right shoulder (both eyes being open) cannot be correct. To determine whether or not you are “right-eyed,” look steadily, with both eyes open, at any small object near you,—rapidly raise a finger (of either hand) perpendicularly, endeavouring to cover the object. Instantly close the left eye. If you find that your finger lies in the direct line between the object and your right eye, you will have the satisfaction of knowing that you are “right-eyed;” but if your finger, instead of intercepting the object, is wide of the mark, at once close the right eye and open the left, when you will, in all probability, perceive that your finger lies directly between your left eye and the object, thereby showing that you are “left-eyed.” I hope it may not be so, as, unless you can shoot from the left shoulder, you ought to close the left eye when bringing your gun to the poise, until from practice you become “right-eyed.” The odds are in favour of your being right-legged as well as right-eyed, which important point will be settled, I hope to your satisfaction, should you ever be under the disagreeable necessity of having to kick an impertinent fellow downstairs. Never shoot in a hurry. Strive to acquire coolness—in other words, strive to acquire such a command over your trigger-finger that it shall never bend until so ordered by your judgment. Your eye will inform your reason of the exact moment when you ought to pull, and your finger, submissive to reason, ought to wait for that precise moment, and not yield to any nervousness. Look with thegreatest intensityat the bird as it rises, and coolly observe its line of flight while deliberately bringing the barrels to your shoulder. Steadiness will be increased by your not removing the gun from your shoulder the instant you have fired. Never fire when your shot can be of no more advantage than a single bullet. If you have a bet about killing a jack snipe, seize the favourable moment for pulling the trigger when the pellets will be spread over a disk of more than a yard in diameter. He will then be zigzagging some thirty-five or forty yards from you; and if your aim is taken at this moment a full foot in advance of hisgeneralline of flight, there is little chance of his escaping unpeppered (and one grain will suffice), however adroitly he may turn and twist. For any kind of bird flying at that distance rapidly down wind and crossing you, your gun ought to be pitchedmuchfurther forward. A still greater allowance should be made if the distance be considerable: and greater elevation should be then given to the barrels, as the grains of shot will become deflected. The same rule holds with birds rising. Aim must be taken above them. There is always more fear of your firing too much to the rear and too low, than too much to the front and too high. Fancy that hares and rabbits have only heads—and get into the habit of looking at no other part,—nay, of looking yet further ahead. The best cover-shot I know says, that he aims at a rabbit rushing through gorse or underwood a yard in front of the spot where he last caught a glimpse of it. Rabbits halt for a moment the instant they get hidden by cover—not so hares. That their hands and eyes may work in unison, novices have been recommended to hang on the flight of swallows with an unloaded gun. It would be better practice to hang on a full foot or more in front of the birds. To save your locks use snap caps, and pull the very instant you think your aim is correct. No second aim can be so effective as the first. The more you thus practise (and at game especially, in order to overcome any nervous sensation occasioned by birds rising) before you commence using powder, the more certain is it that you will eventually become a cool, steady shot. After having commenced the campaign in right earnest, should you be shooting unsteadily or nervously, you would do well to have the philosophy to go up a few times to your dog’s point with uncapped nipples, and by taking (long after the birds are on the wing, but yet within shot) a deliberate aim reassure yourself of the folly of all hurry and precipitancy. Lest you should (as often happens in spite of every previous resolution) involuntarily pull the trigger sooner than you intend, keep your finger off it until the very instant you wish to fire.[116]If you shoot with a muzzle loader and carry one of Sykes’s spring-shot pouches—at present in such general use—by having its nozzle lengthened (some few are made long),—I mean by having a cylinder of nearly three inches in length welded to its end,—you will be able to load quicker than most of your fellow-sportsmen—particularly if you use a loading-rod: the best are of cane, because the material is light and tough. You can make the long nozzle of the shot-pouch (its end being cut square,i.e.at a right angle to its length) force the wad over the powder so far down the barrel before you press the pouch-spring to pour in the charge of shot, that you need not draw your ramrod to drive home until after you have inserted the shot-wad. Using a long nozzle has also this great advantage, that the shot is packed more densely than the powder. In the new German copper cap musket (whose long range is now, 1854, much spoken of,) to keep the powder loose when the charge is rammed home, a thick peg, nearly one and a half inches long, is fixed longitudinally in thecentre of the chamber,—I mean, in the direction of the axis of the bore. This cylindrical peg, which is much like thetigeinvented by Colonel Touvenin in 1828, arrests thejaggedbullet at the precise moment when the powder is sufficiently pressed to remove all chance of theslightlysix-grooved barrel’s bursting; and yet not so much pressed as to interfere with the complete ignition ofeverygrain. These lie loose round the peg. The want of this complete ignition (owing to the rapidity of explosion not giving time for all the particles of closely-wedged powder being fired) has been the only valid objection yet offered to the detonating system. For strong shooting, the wad over the powder should bemuchthicker than the wad placed over the shot. The several waddings now sold greased with some mercurial preparation undeniably retard leading—a great gain. If the long nozzle of the shot-pouch fits close within the barrel, on unloading your gun you can easily return the shot into the pouch without losing a grain. As a concluding piece of advice let me recommend you, my young friend, to make but a light breakfast whenever you expect a heavy day’s work,—take out, however, a few sandwiches for luncheon.

A good book for gamekeepers on trapping is still a great desideratum. It should be written by a practical man who is a bit of a naturalist; for no trapper can be very successful unless he is well acquainted with the haunts and habits of the many kinds of vermin it is his business to destroy. Mr.C——e’sgamekeeper, atR——n, Perthshire, who was well aware of the great importance of diligently searching for their nests in the breeding season, was at length amply repaid for often watching the proceedings of a hen-harrier frequently seen hovering over a small wood not far from his cottage. He could never perceive that she alighted on any of the trees; but from the time of year, and her so perseveringly returning to the spot, he felt convinced that her nest was not far off. Ineffectual, however, was every search. At length, one morning he was lucky enough to remark that something fell from her. He hunted close in that direction,—found the nest, and the young ones regaling on a snipe whose remains were still warm; evidently the identical bird she had most adroitly dropped from a considerable height into the middle of her hungry brood. It would have been very interesting to have observed how she managed on a windy day. Probably she would have taken an easy shot by sweeping close to the trees. In Germany much winged vermin is destroyed with the aid of a decoy horned owl. The keeper having selected a favourable spot on a low hillock where the bird is likely to be observed, drives an upright post into the ground, the upper part of which is hollowed. The bird is placed on a perch much shaped like the letterT. A string is attached to the bottom of the perpendicular part, which is then dropped into the hollow or socket. The armed keeper conceals himself in a loopholed sentry-box, prepared of green boughs, at a suitable distance, amidstsheltering foliage. His pulling the string raises the perch. The owl, to preserve its balance, flutters its wings. This is sure to attract the notice of the neighbouring magpies, hawks, crows, &c. Some from curiosity hover about, or, still chattering and peering, alight on the neighbouring trees (of course, standing invitingly within gun-shot); others, having no longer any reverence for the bird of Wisdom in his present helpless condition, wheel round and round, every moment taking a sly peck at their fancied enemy, while their real foe sends their death-warrant from his impervious ambuscade.

Talking of vermin, I am reminded thatJ——sH——d, an old gamekeeper with whom I am acquainted, avers that one of his craft can hardly be worth his salt unless he possesses “a regular good varmint of a dog.” It should be of a dark colour, not to betray so readily the movements of his master to interested parties. He says he once owned one, a bull-terrier, that was, to again quote the old man’s words, “worth his weight in gold to a gamekeeper;” that it was incredible the quantity of ground-vermin, of every kind, the dog killed, which included snakes and adders—destroyers of young birds of every sort, and it is said of eggs (but this it is difficult to conceive, unless we imagine them to be crushed in the same manner as the boa-constrictor murders his victims, a supposition without a shadow of proof—small eggs, however, might be swallowed whole),—that he was perpetually hunting, but never noticed game—had an excellent nose, and, on occasions when he could not run into the vermin, would unerringly lead his master to the hole in the old bank, tree, or pile of fagots where it had taken refuge; when, if it was a stoat or weasel, and in a place where the report of a gun was not likely to disturb game, the keeper would bring him into “heel,” wait patiently awhile, and then, by imitating the cry of a distressed rabbit, endeavour to entice the delinquent to come forth and be shot. If thisrusefailed,H——dquickly prepared a trap that generally sealed the fate of the destructive little creature. As the dog retrieved all he caught, the old barn-door was always well covered withrecenttrophies. Old trophies afford no evidence of a keeper’s diligence.

The dog invariably accompanied his master during his rounds at night, and had great talents for discovering any two-legged intruder. On finding one he would quietly creep up, and then, by running round and round him as if prepared every moment to make a spring, detain him until joined by the keeper; all the while barking furiously and adroitly avoiding every blow aimed at his sconce.[117]

He was moreover (but this has little to do with his sporting habits), a most formidable enemy to dogs of twice his power; for he would cunningly throw himself upon his back if overmatched, and take the same unfair advantage of his unfortunate opponent which Polygars are trained to do when they are attacking the wild hog (445).

I relate this story aboutH——dand his bull-terrier because few men ever were so successful in getting up a good show of game on a property. It was a favourite observation of his that it was not game,—it was vermin, that required looking after; that these did more injury than the largest gang of poachers, as the depredations of the latter could be stopped, but not those of the former. There are few who, on reflection, will not agree with the old keeper. Stoats are so bloodthirsty, that if one of them come across a brood of young pheasants he will give each in succession a deadly gripe on the back of the neck close to the skull, not to make any use of the carcasses, but in the epicurean desire to suck their delicate brains. All who are accustomed to “rabbiting” know that even tame ferrets evince the same murderous propensities, and commit indiscriminate slaughter,apparentlyin the spirit of wanton destructiveness.

From all, however, that I have seen and heard, I fancy no animal so much prevents the increase of partridges and pheasants, as the hooded crow.

An intelligent man,C——sM——n(an admirable dresser of salmon-flies), whose veracity I have no reason to distrust, assured me that he had seen about the nest of a “hoodie” (as he called the bird), the shells of not less than two hundred eggs, all nearly of the partridge and pheasant. He told me that he once had an opportunity of observing the clever proceedings of a pair of these marauders, bent on robbing the nest on which a hen-pheasant was actually sitting. One of the depredators by fluttering round her, and slily pecking at her unprotected stern, at length so succeeded in irritating her, that she got up to punish him. By a slow scientific retreat, he induced her to pursue him for a few steps, thus affording his confederate, whohad concealed himself, the opportunity of removing certainly one egg, perhaps two. By repetitions of this sham attack and retreat, the adroit pilferers eventually managed to empty the nest.

The above mentioned man had been brought up as a gamekeeper in Cumberland. He became an excellent trapper; and was afterwards employed on an estate near the Cheviot Hills, where, in a short time, he got up a decent stock of game by destroying the vermin. He found the grounds swarming with “hoodies;” but it was not until their breeding season the following spring, when he was favoured in his operations by a frost, that he succeeded in capturing them in considerable numbers. On the ground becoming hard, he, for nearly a fortnight, fed certain spots on the banks of the Teviot with wood pigeons and rabbits, besides any vermin that he contrived to shoot. By that time the “hoodies” habitually resorted, without distrust, to those places for food. He then set his traps baited with all such delicacies,—but he considered a small rabbit, or a pigeon lying on its back with outstretched wings, as the most tempting of his invitations; and it often happened that he had scarcely disappeared before the click of the closing spring apprised him of a capture. When his frequent success had rendered the birds shy, he set his traps in the adjacent stream, covering their sides with grass or rushes,—the attractive bait alone appearing above the surface. For three reasons he regarded the banks of the river as the best situation for his traps—he could, as just mentioned, conceal them in the water on the birds becoming too suspicious—secondly, streams are much resorted to by the “hoodie,” who searches diligently for any chance food floating on the water,—and lastly, the rooks, of which there were many in that part of the country, from naturally hunting inland, the reverse of the “hoodie,” were the less likely to spring his traps.

From the short, fuller neck,—the head bent peeringly downwards,—but, above all, from the hawk-like movements of the wing, the sportsman will be able to distinguish the hooded-crow from the rook at a moment when he may be too distant to observe the black and more hooked bill,—and never let him spare. He should be suspicious of every bird he sees crossing and re-crossing a field,—in reality hunting it with as regular a beat as a pointer’s.

M——nkilled a great many stoats and weasels withunbaitedtraps. As it is the habit of these little animals, when hunting a hedge-row, to prefer running through a covered passage to turning aside, he used, where the ground favoured him by slightly rising, to cut a short drain, about a foot in breadth, and rather less in depth, parallel and close to the hedge, covering it with the sods he had removed. At the bottom of these drains he fixed his traps, as soon as the animals became accustomed to the run, and rarely failed in securing every member of the weasel family which had taken up its abode in the vicinity. The best description of hutch-trap (which many prefer to the gin-trap) is made entirely of wire, excepting the bottoms. All appears so light and airy that little suspicion is awakened. The doors fall on anything running over the floor. Ofcourse, this trap is baited unless set in a run. An enticing bait isdrawntowards it from several distant points.

To many keepers itoughtto be of much advantage to read Colquhoun’s advice on trapping, appended to “The Moor and the Loch.”

With respect to rearing pheasants under a barn-door hen, he observed that they requiredmeatdaily. He said that he had been in the habit of shooting rabbits for those he had brought up, and of giving them the boiled flesh when cut up into the smallest pieces, mixed with their other food. He remarked, farther, that the chicks ought to be allowed to run upon the grass atdawnof day—which was seldom regularly done, such early rising being at times not equally congenial to the taste of all the parties concerned.

The treatment he recommended seems reasonable, for those who have watched the habits of pheasants must have remarked that, immediately upon quitting their roosts, they commence searching in the moist grass for food (greatly to the benefit of the farmer), and do not resort to the corn-fields until after the dew is off the ground, and the rising sun has warned the grubs, slugs, worms, and caterpillars to seek concealment.

Ornithologists, and men who have studied the subject, are agreed that partridges in a yet larger degree benefit the agriculturalist by picking up, during the greater part of the year, myriads of worms and insects; besides consuming immense quantities of weeds and their seeds. They rival the ill-used mole in the number of wire-worm they destroy. These facts have been incontrovertibly proved by an examination of the crops of the birds at all seasons.

I am not wishing to fight any battles for hares and rabbits. They do great mischief,—but in fairness it must be said for the hare, that he commits far less waste and havoc than the other. A rabbit will wander from turnip to turnip, nibbling a bit from each, whereby the air is admitted[118]and the whole root destroyed; whereas a hare, if undisturbed, will sit down before one head, and not move until she has devoured the whole of its contents, merely leaving a rind not much thicker than an egg-shell. It is, however, undeniable that both of them do much mischief to young plantations at all seasons of the year, and they will even eat the bark off, and so kill some kinds of full-grown trees, when snow is on the ground and food scarce.

To the health of many, usually considered only grain-feeding birds, a certain portion of animal food appears essential. It is not solely for grain that the common fowl scrapes the dung-hill. Throw a bone of a cooked brother or sister to a brood of chickens confined in a poultry-yard, and see with what avidity they will demolish the remains of their defunct relative. Fowls never fatten on board ship;occasionallyowing to want of gravel,—constantlyto want of animalfood. In a long voyage a bird that dies in a coop is often found by “Billyducks”[119]half eaten up; and it is questionable whether a sickly companion be not occasionally sacrificed by his stronger associates to appease their natural craving for flesh. In the West Indies the accidental upsetting of an old sugar-cask in a farm-yard, and its scattering forth a swarm of cock-roaches, sets all the feathered tribe in a ferment. The birds that had been listlessly sauntering about, or standing half-asleep in the friendly shade, suddenly seem animated with the fury of little imps,—and, influenced by a tastein every wayrepugnant to our feelings, with outstretched necks and fluttering wings race against each other for possession of the offensive, destructive insects, evincing in the pursuit an agility and a rapidity of movement of which few would imagine them to be capable.


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