Chapter 21

[72]And if hares are shot to him, fewest wounded hares.

[73]In the remaining odd case (one out of a hundred) the propensity may be traced to the animal belonging to a vicious stock,—in short, to hereditary instinct.

[74]Mr. C.B——y, who has written so cleverly and usefully under the name of “Harry Hieover,” supports (in “Practical Horsemanship”) an argument respecting the breaking of horses, by describing with such good judgment the manner in which he would proceed to gradually wean a dog from worrying sheep (much on the principle of taking him to a rabbit-warren,337), that I think some of my readers may peruse it with profit:—“I suppose myself to have a dog addicted to chasing sheep. He must be cured of that. If I depute a servant to do this, I know how he will set about it. He will take the dog on a common, where sheep are running at large. The moment they see the dog they begin running. This is just what the man wished they might do. The dog, of course, immediately sets off after them, and the man after the dog. Probably after the latter has ceased chasing, he is caught; and at a moment when he is not in fault he is most brutally thrashed, knowing or not knowing what he is thrashed for. He is cowed for the day, and sore for three or four afterwards, when he forgets the beating; and the next time he sees the sheep, he feels the same excitement and propensity, and away he goes after them; so probably it would be as long as he lives.“I now take the dog in hand, and as sedulously avoid taking him where he has a chance of seeing sheep running, as the other sought for a place where he should; for I know, with his present habits, the temptation will be too strong for the dog to resist. I put a collar round his neck, with a chain to hold him by, and a good dog-whip in my hand. I take him to a sheep-fold: here the sheep cannot run: and not being wild, the utmost they can do on seeing the dog is to huddle all together. On entering the fold I cry in a warning voice, ‘Ware sheep, Don.’ The dog looks up. ‘Ware sheep,’ I cry again. If he appears in the least elated or fidgety, ‘Ware sheep,’ I cry in a voice of anger. If he attempt to make any hasty advance towards them, a smart stroke or two of the whip makes him find ‘Ware sheep’ must be attended to. If after this he pulls towards, or jumps at them, I give him a good flogging, he deserves it, for he knows he is doing wrong, and has not over-excitement as an excuse. In a day or two, more or less, as he is more or less incorrigible, he will cease not only to jump at the sheep, but will walk quietly among them. He has learned perfectly one lesson, which is, that he must not touch sheep standing still. Probably, being now cowed by the warning ‘Ware sheep,’ if I took him on the common, he would, if he saw sheep running, stop at being halloed to (if not too far off); but it would be highly injudicious to trust him, for if he broke away, my three or four days’ lesson would go for nothing:—he would be nearly as bad as ever.“I now take him where sheep are wild, but never get near enough to set them running. But suppose they were to do so, I am prepared, for I have him in a cord some twenty yards long. This length gives him something of a feeling of liberty. If he looks towards the flock, ‘Ware sheep’ reminds him of his lessons. In a day or two I approach them; they begin to run: Don gets fidgety, but the warning and showing him the whip most probably controls him; if it does not, and he breaks away, I let him reach the end of the cord, and with a stentorian ‘Ware sheep,’ I pull him head over heels, haul him up, and getting hold of him, give him a second thrashing—a lesson or two more, and he, in nine cases in ten, will be broken of the habit. But if without the cord to check him he had got in full career, flaying the poor brute alive would not have prevented his doing it again; but his propensity having been diminished gradually, moderate reflection will reform him, which it would not have done while that propensity was in full force.”—Page171.

“I suppose myself to have a dog addicted to chasing sheep. He must be cured of that. If I depute a servant to do this, I know how he will set about it. He will take the dog on a common, where sheep are running at large. The moment they see the dog they begin running. This is just what the man wished they might do. The dog, of course, immediately sets off after them, and the man after the dog. Probably after the latter has ceased chasing, he is caught; and at a moment when he is not in fault he is most brutally thrashed, knowing or not knowing what he is thrashed for. He is cowed for the day, and sore for three or four afterwards, when he forgets the beating; and the next time he sees the sheep, he feels the same excitement and propensity, and away he goes after them; so probably it would be as long as he lives.

“I now take the dog in hand, and as sedulously avoid taking him where he has a chance of seeing sheep running, as the other sought for a place where he should; for I know, with his present habits, the temptation will be too strong for the dog to resist. I put a collar round his neck, with a chain to hold him by, and a good dog-whip in my hand. I take him to a sheep-fold: here the sheep cannot run: and not being wild, the utmost they can do on seeing the dog is to huddle all together. On entering the fold I cry in a warning voice, ‘Ware sheep, Don.’ The dog looks up. ‘Ware sheep,’ I cry again. If he appears in the least elated or fidgety, ‘Ware sheep,’ I cry in a voice of anger. If he attempt to make any hasty advance towards them, a smart stroke or two of the whip makes him find ‘Ware sheep’ must be attended to. If after this he pulls towards, or jumps at them, I give him a good flogging, he deserves it, for he knows he is doing wrong, and has not over-excitement as an excuse. In a day or two, more or less, as he is more or less incorrigible, he will cease not only to jump at the sheep, but will walk quietly among them. He has learned perfectly one lesson, which is, that he must not touch sheep standing still. Probably, being now cowed by the warning ‘Ware sheep,’ if I took him on the common, he would, if he saw sheep running, stop at being halloed to (if not too far off); but it would be highly injudicious to trust him, for if he broke away, my three or four days’ lesson would go for nothing:—he would be nearly as bad as ever.

“I now take him where sheep are wild, but never get near enough to set them running. But suppose they were to do so, I am prepared, for I have him in a cord some twenty yards long. This length gives him something of a feeling of liberty. If he looks towards the flock, ‘Ware sheep’ reminds him of his lessons. In a day or two I approach them; they begin to run: Don gets fidgety, but the warning and showing him the whip most probably controls him; if it does not, and he breaks away, I let him reach the end of the cord, and with a stentorian ‘Ware sheep,’ I pull him head over heels, haul him up, and getting hold of him, give him a second thrashing—a lesson or two more, and he, in nine cases in ten, will be broken of the habit. But if without the cord to check him he had got in full career, flaying the poor brute alive would not have prevented his doing it again; but his propensity having been diminished gradually, moderate reflection will reform him, which it would not have done while that propensity was in full force.”—Page171.

[75]A muzzle is the best recipe for keeping a howling dog quiet at night—from what is commonly called “baying the moon.” It should invariably be employed whenever any ointment is applied to his skin for mange, &c.

[76]A dark day with a good breeze would be preferred with us.

[77]But there is this to be said in favour of your perpetually shooting in wind and wet:—you will be acting a most friendly part by your less persecuting neighbour, for under the twofold annoyance of the gun and such weather, the birds will fly to great distances to seek for quiet shelter.

[78]This note about rearing pheasants, &c., is so long that the printer has placed it in an Appendix. See page335.

[79]Neeps, anglicè turnips.

[80]Callant, anglicè boy.

[81]Hirple, anglicè limp.

[82]Lord Brougham, in his “Dialogues on Instinct,” gives anecdotes showing the great sagacity of animals. He writes—“The cunning of foxes is proverbial; but I know not if it was ever more remarkably displayed than in the Duke of Beaufort’s country; where Reynard, being hard pressed, disappeared suddenly, and was, after strict search, found in a water-pool up to the very snout, by which he held on to a willow-bough hanging over the pond. The cunning of a dog, which Serjeant Wilde tells me of as known to him, is at least equal. He used to be tied up as a precaution against hunting sheep. At night he slipped his head out of the collar, and returning before dawn, put on the collar again to conceal his nocturnal excursions.”All animals are more or less cunning. The cunning of monkeys—I do not quite like using that word: it hardly does them justice—is nearly as proverbial as the cunning of foxes—but it is not so generally admitted that the monkey has an innate sense of the ludicrous; and it would surprise many to be told that its mischievous propensities frequently arise, not from a spirit of wanton destructiveness, but from a consciousness of fun—from a feeling of enjoyment at thinking of, or witnessing the embarrassments created by its pranks. Yet it is so. CaptainH——e, when in the 7th Fusiliers, mentioned to me that the sailors of the ship in which he returned from the Mediterranean had two pet monkeys on board. The older one not being so tame as the smaller, a belt with a short rope was fastened round his waist, in order that he might be occasionally tied up, and as this belt had chafed him he greatly disliked its being touched. One hot day when the monkeys were lying beside each other on the deck, apparently asleep,H——eobserved the little one raise himself softly, look at his companion, and feeling assured that he was asleep, sink down quietly, close his eyes, and give the obnoxious belt a sudden twitch. The other instantly sprang up,—perceiving, however, nothing near him but the little fellow (seemingly) in a deep slumber, he laid himself down to continue his siesta. After a while the young tormentor cautiously peered round; when satisfied that his friend was again in the arms of “Mr. Murphy,” he repeated the disagreeable twitch with yet greater success,—the old chap becoming this time delightfully puzzled.A third time the little rascal, after the same precautions as before, endeavoured to play off his trick,—but he was foiled at his own weapons. The old gentleman suspecting him, had cunningly pretended to be asleep; and on the small paw quietly approaching his sensitive loins, he jumped up—seized the culprit in the very fact, and forthwith gave him a drubbing that taught him more respectful manners during the remainder of the voyage.But to return for a moment to foxes. A story is told in the family of Mr.C——sR——n(286) of the sagacity of these animals, to which he gives implicit credence. Adjacent to their old family house stands a yet older high tower, the summit of which commands an extensive view of the surrounding country, and consequently of the several rides leading to the building. From this elevated position his grandfather was one morning watching the hounds drawing some neighbouring covers, when he saw a fox steal away unobserved, and hide himself in a few furze-bushes. The pack passed by at some distance from him, and Monsieur Reynard must have begun congratulating himself upon his escape, when to his horror he perceived two lagging skirters approaching his place of concealment. Instead of breaking away in an opposite direction, he at once went forth to greet them,—lay down, playfully wagging his tail,—and gave them a pressing, and doubtless sincere, invitation to join in a game of romps. The ruse was successful. The hounds came up, paid him the compliment of sniffing at him as he rolled on his back humbly admitting his inferiority, and then cantered off to join their companions. Upon this, Pug at once retreated to his first covert.

All animals are more or less cunning. The cunning of monkeys—I do not quite like using that word: it hardly does them justice—is nearly as proverbial as the cunning of foxes—but it is not so generally admitted that the monkey has an innate sense of the ludicrous; and it would surprise many to be told that its mischievous propensities frequently arise, not from a spirit of wanton destructiveness, but from a consciousness of fun—from a feeling of enjoyment at thinking of, or witnessing the embarrassments created by its pranks. Yet it is so. CaptainH——e, when in the 7th Fusiliers, mentioned to me that the sailors of the ship in which he returned from the Mediterranean had two pet monkeys on board. The older one not being so tame as the smaller, a belt with a short rope was fastened round his waist, in order that he might be occasionally tied up, and as this belt had chafed him he greatly disliked its being touched. One hot day when the monkeys were lying beside each other on the deck, apparently asleep,H——eobserved the little one raise himself softly, look at his companion, and feeling assured that he was asleep, sink down quietly, close his eyes, and give the obnoxious belt a sudden twitch. The other instantly sprang up,—perceiving, however, nothing near him but the little fellow (seemingly) in a deep slumber, he laid himself down to continue his siesta. After a while the young tormentor cautiously peered round; when satisfied that his friend was again in the arms of “Mr. Murphy,” he repeated the disagreeable twitch with yet greater success,—the old chap becoming this time delightfully puzzled.

A third time the little rascal, after the same precautions as before, endeavoured to play off his trick,—but he was foiled at his own weapons. The old gentleman suspecting him, had cunningly pretended to be asleep; and on the small paw quietly approaching his sensitive loins, he jumped up—seized the culprit in the very fact, and forthwith gave him a drubbing that taught him more respectful manners during the remainder of the voyage.

But to return for a moment to foxes. A story is told in the family of Mr.C——sR——n(286) of the sagacity of these animals, to which he gives implicit credence. Adjacent to their old family house stands a yet older high tower, the summit of which commands an extensive view of the surrounding country, and consequently of the several rides leading to the building. From this elevated position his grandfather was one morning watching the hounds drawing some neighbouring covers, when he saw a fox steal away unobserved, and hide himself in a few furze-bushes. The pack passed by at some distance from him, and Monsieur Reynard must have begun congratulating himself upon his escape, when to his horror he perceived two lagging skirters approaching his place of concealment. Instead of breaking away in an opposite direction, he at once went forth to greet them,—lay down, playfully wagging his tail,—and gave them a pressing, and doubtless sincere, invitation to join in a game of romps. The ruse was successful. The hounds came up, paid him the compliment of sniffing at him as he rolled on his back humbly admitting his inferiority, and then cantered off to join their companions. Upon this, Pug at once retreated to his first covert.

[83]Is not the capability of forming a good judgment in unusual circumstances more dependent upon the exercise of the reasoning than the instinctive faculties?

[84]So adroitly obtruding (or forcing) a particular card of an outspread pack upon the notice of an unsuspecting party, that he unhesitatingly selects that identical card. This trick is performed very effectively, having previously concealed the eight of a suit, by temporarily converting the seven into the eight by lightly sticking on a bit of paper cut into proper shape, and of the same colour as the suit. The metamorphosed card is forced upon one of the audience, and the exhibitor manages unperceived to remove the deception with his little finger when reshuffling the cards.

[85]This would account for the showman’s wish to increase the size of the circle (436), and keep his audience at a respectable distance, well out of hearing.

[86]We speak not of the delightful Neilgherry hills, nor the valleys of the magnificent Himalaya mountains.

[87]The really wild dogs of India,—the Dhole,—hunt by nose, and in packs.

[88]Pointer rather than setter, not only on account of his shorter coat, but because his nose seems better suited to a hot climate. This cross would be hardy; and prove extremely useful when the grain. fields are cut; but in high grass and strong jungle a team of Clumbers would be invaluable. They could not, however, be kept healthy in the low, hot lands. We must naturally expect that in the cool parts of India the true English pointer (or setter) would be found more serviceable than the best cross. For those who are fond of coursing in India what a pity it is that it should be so difficult to procure good Arab-greyhounds. Whilst I was in the country, but I speak of many years ago, I never saw a decent one. A far better description of dog, and one which would keep healthy in the hottest weather, might be imported (if expense was no consideration) from the upper parts of Arabia, where an admirable, short-coated greyhound is reared for different kinds of coursing. The best dogs are greatly valued, and it is a question whether our noble breed is not originally derived from this stock.

[89]Impression of feet.

[90]In general he knowingly places his back against a tree.

[91]The North American trappers apply the same term to an old beaver.

[92]Guinea-birds being much prized in such of the islands as possess but little game, many are reared at the farms of the planters. The negroes dig up ants’ nests, which are disagreeably numerous, and on bringing one into the yard, dash it violently upon the ground, when the chicks eagerly scramble for the contents,—the insectsandthe eggs. By-the-bye, much is said about the difficulty of taking eggs from Guinea-birds without making them abandon their nests. The would-be purloiner, in answer to his inquiries, is often recommended to keep as far as possible from the nest; and, that it may in no way be contaminated by his touch, to remove the eggs during the absence of the birds with an iron or silver spoon, having a long stick attached to it as a handle;—but it is seldom told him,—and therein lies the real secret,—that, in addition to such precautions, he never ought to rob a nest without leavingat the leastthree eggs. It is surprising how many may in this way be taken. I know of a single pair of guinea-birds being thus robbed in one spring of no less than eighty-four.Having got into a Creole’s poultry-yard, I am unwilling to quit it without observing, that few better birds are reared than his cross between common ducks and a Muscovy drake. It is found necessary carefully to guard against the ungainly gentleman’s having any rival of the ordinary breed in the neighbourhood, for if the opportunity were afforded them, the ladies would to a certainty forsake their cumbrous lord for the more active commoner. Although the true Muscovy is very coarse eating, the Hybrid is as much an improvement upon the flavour as it is upon the size of the common duck. I have known the birds to be reared in this country, and often wondered that the plan was not more generally pursued.

Having got into a Creole’s poultry-yard, I am unwilling to quit it without observing, that few better birds are reared than his cross between common ducks and a Muscovy drake. It is found necessary carefully to guard against the ungainly gentleman’s having any rival of the ordinary breed in the neighbourhood, for if the opportunity were afforded them, the ladies would to a certainty forsake their cumbrous lord for the more active commoner. Although the true Muscovy is very coarse eating, the Hybrid is as much an improvement upon the flavour as it is upon the size of the common duck. I have known the birds to be reared in this country, and often wondered that the plan was not more generally pursued.

[93]Improved as regards shape and action, but not as to stanchness and nose.

[94]On one occasion, shooting in India, I saw an instance of an animal’s endeavouring to hide itself, that always struck me as remarkable from the youth of the creature, and the fact that its usual instincts lead it to seek safety, not in concealment, but in flight. I was looking for a small kind of grouse commonly called there rock-pigeon, when, crowning a small eminence, I unexpectedly came upon a young antelope, about a hundred yards off, that apparently had lost its dam. The country was open and bare, with here and there a few stunted bushes. It instantly ran behind one of these, and there remained while I drew the shot, and had nearly rammed down one of the balls (enclosed in greased cloth) that I constantly carried in my pocket ready for immediate use. I was almost prepared, when off it went. As the ball was nearly home, I forced it down, not liking the trouble of extracting it, and took a random chance shot at the little animal. I could not perceive that it winced, and it was not until it fell that I was aware I had struck it. The ball had passed through its body a little too far behind the shoulder, and somewhat too high—a common fault. It was so thin and poor that it must have been separated for some time from its mother. The want of sagacity evinced by peafowl, when hiding themselves, is strongly contrasted with the intelligence displayed by the fawn. I have known these birds, when alarmed, run their heads into a crevice, leaving the whole of their bodies exposed, and then fancy themselves so effectually protected, as to remain immoveable, until the sportsman got close to them.When you are hunting, rifle in hand, for large game on an open prairie, or where it is unlikely that you will find a convenient rest, you can carry in your waistcoat pocket, until the moment you require it, not a very bad substitute, in the shape of a piece of string looped at both ends. This string will have been carefully adjusted to exactly such a length that when one loop is slipped over your left foot, and the other loop over the end of the ramrod (near the muzzle), on your bringing up your rifle to the poise, the pull of the string will restrain you from unduly elevating it while taking aim. An ordinary rest prevents yourloweringthe muzzle when in the act of firing—the resistance of the string opposes yourraisingit. The string, however, will not wholly hinder the muzzle from diverging to the right or left,—but in reality it will much prevent such unsteadiness, by permitting your left hand to press strongly upwards against the rifle. In the new drill for firing with the Enfield, the soldier is taught a position which gives him a firm rest for his musket. It is to sit on his right heel (the right knee carried well to the right, and resting on the ground), and to place his left elbow on his left knee. He is taught to take aim a little below the object, and to raise the muzzle very slowly—and to pull the moment he covers the object, having previously well considered what allowance he should make for the influence of the wind.

When you are hunting, rifle in hand, for large game on an open prairie, or where it is unlikely that you will find a convenient rest, you can carry in your waistcoat pocket, until the moment you require it, not a very bad substitute, in the shape of a piece of string looped at both ends. This string will have been carefully adjusted to exactly such a length that when one loop is slipped over your left foot, and the other loop over the end of the ramrod (near the muzzle), on your bringing up your rifle to the poise, the pull of the string will restrain you from unduly elevating it while taking aim. An ordinary rest prevents yourloweringthe muzzle when in the act of firing—the resistance of the string opposes yourraisingit. The string, however, will not wholly hinder the muzzle from diverging to the right or left,—but in reality it will much prevent such unsteadiness, by permitting your left hand to press strongly upwards against the rifle. In the new drill for firing with the Enfield, the soldier is taught a position which gives him a firm rest for his musket. It is to sit on his right heel (the right knee carried well to the right, and resting on the ground), and to place his left elbow on his left knee. He is taught to take aim a little below the object, and to raise the muzzle very slowly—and to pull the moment he covers the object, having previously well considered what allowance he should make for the influence of the wind.

[95]A reverend andvery enthusiasticdog-breaker in Cornwall (R. R.W——t), who took to the art late in life, had an admirable dog named Niger, who practised a peculiar self-taught dodge. He had a capital nose, and when he winded birds on the other side of a hedge, he would make a circuit, and coming behind them would drive them over to his master. This was all innate talent. In no way did it result from tuition.

[96]Unless they are very young they are little prized at table; and they afford such bad sport to the gun that, notwithstanding their beauty, great pains are now taken in Norfolk and Suffolk to exterminate the breed. Their nests are sought for to be destroyed; and when the snow is on the ground, the old birds are killed in great numbers. It is observed that in proportion as they increase, so do the common partridge decrease. The stronger bird, according to the general law of nature, drives off the weaker congener. Mr.L——d,A——r’skeeper (ofH——nHall), told me he had on several occasions seen the young red-legged Frenchmen perseveringly attack and eventually kill a whole covey of the less active English squeakers. The late Marquis of Hertford has the credit (?) of having been the first to turn out a few of the strangers. This was nearly fifty years ago at Sudbourn Hall, his seat in Suffolk, whence they have spread over that county and Norfolk, and are fast invading the northern parts of Essex.

[97]This note on setters, poachers, keepers, bloodhounds, night-dogs, &c., is so long, that the printer has placed it in an Appendix. See page344.

[98]“Increased:” the gratification of carrying being far greater than that of merely “pointing dead.”

[99]A red-legged partridge.

[100]Of course, a regular retriever is absolutely necessary when a team of spaniels is hunted, none of which are accustomed to retrieve (78).

[101]In deep water diving birds will of course beat the most active dog.

[102]Twice a day he should be allowed to run out, that he may not be compelled to adopt habits wholly opposed to his natural propensities. If he has acquired the disagreeable trick of howling when shut up, put a muzzle on him.

[103]Claws of dogs kept on boarded floors, or not exercised, occasionally become so long, that unless they are filed or pared down, they cause lameness. In the menagerie at the Cape of Good Hope I saw a fine tigress, the claws of whose fore-feet had grown so far beyond her power of sheathing that they had penetrated deep into the flesh, and it was under consideration how to secure her so that the operator should incur no risk while sawing off the ends. She was very tame and sociable, and would rub against the bars when she was approached by visitors to invite their caresses; but it was quite distressing to see her raising each leg alternately, really to ease it of her weight, but apparently as if soliciting relief. The blessings of chloroform were then unknown. No tiger while under its drowsy influence had ever had an injured limb amputated, as was once successfully managed at the Surrey Zoological Gardens.

[104]It will tend to your comfort and health to have your boots made waterproof, and you will not easily get a better preparation, when well rubbed into the leather, for effecting your object, than the following. It is an admirable one for rendering all kinds of leather pliable, and forpreservingthem in that state—and how often in the beginning of a season have you found your water-boots as hard as a board!To one ounce of India-rubber (the old bottle-shaped gum) cut into very small pieces, and dissolved in only as much spirits of naphtha as will convert the rubber into a thick fluid, add not more than one pint of oil; linseed oil, or neat’s foot oil is, I am told, the best.For waterproofing cloth:—2 lbs. alum,1 lb. sugar of lead,20 quarts spring water.Strain off to clear. Let garment soak 48 hours. Hang up until dry. Well brush afterwards. Inexpensive yet effective!When you catch cold, do not too hastily blame our climate, our enviable climate, which preserves longer than any other the bloom of its women and the vigour of its men, where the extremes of cold and heat are equally unknown, in which you can take with advantage exercise every day in the year, and need never suffer annoyance from mosquitoes, sandflies, fleas, and other abominations, from which few countries are free. When heated by labour, are we not too apt to throw off some article of apparel in order to get cool? whereas the Turk, more sensibly, puts on additional clothing, and sits out of a draught until he loses all the extra heat he acquired from exercise.

To one ounce of India-rubber (the old bottle-shaped gum) cut into very small pieces, and dissolved in only as much spirits of naphtha as will convert the rubber into a thick fluid, add not more than one pint of oil; linseed oil, or neat’s foot oil is, I am told, the best.

For waterproofing cloth:—

2 lbs. alum,1 lb. sugar of lead,20 quarts spring water.

Strain off to clear. Let garment soak 48 hours. Hang up until dry. Well brush afterwards. Inexpensive yet effective!

When you catch cold, do not too hastily blame our climate, our enviable climate, which preserves longer than any other the bloom of its women and the vigour of its men, where the extremes of cold and heat are equally unknown, in which you can take with advantage exercise every day in the year, and need never suffer annoyance from mosquitoes, sandflies, fleas, and other abominations, from which few countries are free. When heated by labour, are we not too apt to throw off some article of apparel in order to get cool? whereas the Turk, more sensibly, puts on additional clothing, and sits out of a draught until he loses all the extra heat he acquired from exercise.

[105]Since the publication of the first edition of this book, I have had the gratification of reading Mr. Herbert’s “Field Sports in the United States, &c.,” and find that he does not consider Indian-corn to possess any injurious qualities—on the contrary, he strongly recommends its adoption in kennels.

[106]In all diseases of dogs—inflammatory, of course, excepted—warmth is recommended.

[107]There is a hardy breed of pointers that rarely take it,—especially if they are liberally fed, and lie warm while young.—W. N. H.

[108]“Dogs, their Management,” published by Routledge,—a work evidently written by a kind-hearted man of reflection, experience, and judgment; one who dares think for himself, not servilely treading in the footsteps of his predecessors.

[109]A right good sportsman, in days long gone by, gave this advice to his son—“a true chip of the old block,”—“Don’t get an experienced keeper wedded to his own customs and prejudices; but engage a young man fond of sport. Breakhimto your mind; and then, and not until then, will you havedogsbroken to your mind.”

[110]“SNAP” VISITING THE TRAPS.Is it quite certain that the keepers who plead their inability to devote more time to the improvement of their masters’ dogs have never found time to break in dogs belonging to strangers? If a keeper would but make it a rule while he is going his rounds by day (to examine his traps, &c.) to allow each of his pupils in turn to accompany him in fine weather, and avail himself of that opportunity to give the young dogs an occasional out-door lesson, they would all be brought under good subjection, and be taught to obey implicitly every signal of the hand—which is half the battle—without taking him from his other occupations, and without his having devoted more than a few hours exclusively to their preparatory education. If a keeper feels no pride in the conduct of his dogs—if he is not animated with a spark of the enthusiasm that incites the huntsman to such willing exertion in the education and performance of his hounds, he (the keeper) had better change his profession. He may attain to eminence in another, he certainly never will in his present position.As I have just talked about a keeper “going his rounds” to examine his traps, it would be wrong not to mention the serviceable “Snap,” a white, short-haired terrier belonging to a gamekeeper of Mr.R——e’s, who for many years has sat as member for Dover. The little animal’s personal qualities are far inferior to his mental, for even his master, with all his well-known partiality for his petted companion, cannot call him handsome; but he has a right to quote in the dog’s favour the old saying, “Handsome is as handsome does.” Besides other ways of rendering himself useful, “Snap” willingly considers it a standing rule that he is to start off alone every morning after breakfast to take the tour of all the traps. On his return to the lodge, if he has no report to make, he maintains a discreet silence; but if any of them are sprung, by vermin or otherwise, he loudly proclaims the fact, and leads the keeper, whose time and legs he has thus cleverly saved, direct to any spots requiring his personal attention.

[110]

“SNAP” VISITING THE TRAPS.

Is it quite certain that the keepers who plead their inability to devote more time to the improvement of their masters’ dogs have never found time to break in dogs belonging to strangers? If a keeper would but make it a rule while he is going his rounds by day (to examine his traps, &c.) to allow each of his pupils in turn to accompany him in fine weather, and avail himself of that opportunity to give the young dogs an occasional out-door lesson, they would all be brought under good subjection, and be taught to obey implicitly every signal of the hand—which is half the battle—without taking him from his other occupations, and without his having devoted more than a few hours exclusively to their preparatory education. If a keeper feels no pride in the conduct of his dogs—if he is not animated with a spark of the enthusiasm that incites the huntsman to such willing exertion in the education and performance of his hounds, he (the keeper) had better change his profession. He may attain to eminence in another, he certainly never will in his present position.

As I have just talked about a keeper “going his rounds” to examine his traps, it would be wrong not to mention the serviceable “Snap,” a white, short-haired terrier belonging to a gamekeeper of Mr.R——e’s, who for many years has sat as member for Dover. The little animal’s personal qualities are far inferior to his mental, for even his master, with all his well-known partiality for his petted companion, cannot call him handsome; but he has a right to quote in the dog’s favour the old saying, “Handsome is as handsome does.” Besides other ways of rendering himself useful, “Snap” willingly considers it a standing rule that he is to start off alone every morning after breakfast to take the tour of all the traps. On his return to the lodge, if he has no report to make, he maintains a discreet silence; but if any of them are sprung, by vermin or otherwise, he loudly proclaims the fact, and leads the keeper, whose time and legs he has thus cleverly saved, direct to any spots requiring his personal attention.

[111]The reason in my opinion is, that they have not been properly taught—how to teach.—W. N. H.

[112]An expeditious method, as is admitted in191, but there, I think, all praise ceases.—W. N. H.

[113]Doubtless a good plan; perhaps the best plan with a bold dog whose initiatory education has been neglected—and who, in consequence, will not watch for your signals, nor yet look to you on your whistling; but the cord might be longer, and the boy should follow the dog to allow of his range being more extended.—W. N. H.

[114]Meaning the spike-collar described in300of this, and 136 of first edition. No mention was made in that edition of the milder collar now spoken of in301.—W. N. H.

[115]In the correctness of this reasoning I fully concur.—W. N. H.

[116]See end of448.

[117]If you are attacked by a dog when you have the good fortune to be armed with a shilelagh, do not hit him across the head and eyes; bear in mind that the front part of his fore-legs is a far more vulnerable and sensitive spot. One or two well applied blows upon that unprotected place will generally disable the strongest dog. Consider how feelingly alive your own shins are to the slightest rap. I have in India seen a vicious horse quite cowed under such discipline, and a really savage nag in that country is, to use an expression common among the natives, a fellow who would “eat one to the very turban.” They will sometimes cure a biter by letting him seize a leg of mutton burning hot off the fire—not so expensive a remedy as you may think, where sheep, wool, or rather hair and all, are constantly sold at 2s.each,—I will not describe how poor,—I have lifted them up, one in each hand, to judge of their comparative weight. A country bred horse may be conquered by harsh means; but a true Arab never. It is rare to find one that is not sweet-tempered; but when he is vicious, his high spirit and great courage make him quite indomitable.With a stout stick, a better defence than you may at first imagine can be made against the attack of a vicious bull. Smart blows struck on thetipof his horns seem to cause a jar painfully felt at the roots. Mr.B——n, ofA——n, when he was charged in the middle of a large field by a bull which soon afterwards killed a man, adopting this plan, beat off the savage animal, though it several times renewed its attacks.

With a stout stick, a better defence than you may at first imagine can be made against the attack of a vicious bull. Smart blows struck on thetipof his horns seem to cause a jar painfully felt at the roots. Mr.B——n, ofA——n, when he was charged in the middle of a large field by a bull which soon afterwards killed a man, adopting this plan, beat off the savage animal, though it several times renewed its attacks.

[118]If my reader is a youngster, he ought to take this as a hint to mind where he treads when he traverses a turnip-field.

[119]The common sobriquet of the boy in charge.

[120]Clover does not retain the wet like common grass, and it affords some shade in hot weather to the very young birds.

[121]Until the young birds recover do not let them have access to any water in which alum is not dissolved in the proportion of a lump about the size of a walnut to half a gallon of water—also mix such a quantity of common salt in their food, that the stimulant therein is quite perceptible to your taste, and feed more sparingly than usual.

[122]Principally Indian corn-meal. When the chickens are older, the grain is merely bruised. To full-grown birds of a large species, it is given whole.

[123]For reasons already given, I think some animal food should be added.—W. N. H.

[124]French eggs, which he purchased cheap in large quantities from an importing house at Folkestone.

Transcriber’s Notes:Larger images have been provided where more detail is needed.Apparent typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected and hyphenation standardised except where the meaning would be affected.Original accentuation has been retained except for some inconsistent diacritical marks in the original; the three instances are given below:(a) In the List of Illustrations:Thlew-ĕe-choh-dezeth(b) In the illustration caption; THLEW-EE-CHOH-DEZETH(c) In the text: Thlew-ĕe-chōh-dezeth.All instances have been standardised as this last example.Original spelling has been retained with some exceptions:Typographical errors corrected:rages changed to ranges in paragraph 87Impropropriety changed to Improprietyrecals changed to recallssidge changed to sidewil changed to will836 (date) changed to 1836implicity changed to implicitlySchichallion changed to Schiehallionmorever changed to moreover for consistencycares changed to cures in paragraph 293Unusual spelling retained:immoveablyvillany and villanousIn the Chapter XIII sub-heading, and the advertisments ‘receipt’ is used rather than ‘recipe’, which is used elsewhere. Both words having the same meaning in the context.In the original there were two instances of paragraph 55. The first instance has been renumbered as the ‘missing’ paragraph 54.Paragraph 207 was not numbered in the original and has not been changed.In the original there were 2 instances of paragraph 102, none of 103. Second instance of 102. renumbered to 103. which agrees with chapter heading.Some illustration titles do not match the List of Illustrations.In paragraph 44 the reference to ‘xi.of paragraph 171’ should refer to ‘xi.of paragraph 141’, and has been corrected.

Transcriber’s Notes:

Larger images have been provided where more detail is needed.

Apparent typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected and hyphenation standardised except where the meaning would be affected.

Original accentuation has been retained except for some inconsistent diacritical marks in the original; the three instances are given below:

(a) In the List of Illustrations:Thlew-ĕe-choh-dezeth

(b) In the illustration caption; THLEW-EE-CHOH-DEZETH

All instances have been standardised as this last example.

Original spelling has been retained with some exceptions:

Typographical errors corrected:rages changed to ranges in paragraph 87Impropropriety changed to Improprietyrecals changed to recallssidge changed to sidewil changed to will836 (date) changed to 1836implicity changed to implicitlySchichallion changed to Schiehallionmorever changed to moreover for consistencycares changed to cures in paragraph 293

Unusual spelling retained:immoveablyvillany and villanousIn the Chapter XIII sub-heading, and the advertisments ‘receipt’ is used rather than ‘recipe’, which is used elsewhere. Both words having the same meaning in the context.

In the original there were two instances of paragraph 55. The first instance has been renumbered as the ‘missing’ paragraph 54.

Paragraph 207 was not numbered in the original and has not been changed.

In the original there were 2 instances of paragraph 102, none of 103. Second instance of 102. renumbered to 103. which agrees with chapter heading.

Some illustration titles do not match the List of Illustrations.

In paragraph 44 the reference to ‘xi.of paragraph 171’ should refer to ‘xi.of paragraph 141’, and has been corrected.

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