FOOTNOTES:

I. That he is to pay attention to his whistle—the whistle that you design always to use to him. I mean that, when he hearsonelow blast on his whistle he is to look to you for orders, but not necessarily run towards you, unless he is out of sight, or you continue whistling (18).II. That "Toho," or the right arm raised nearly perpendicularly, means that he is to stand still (19to21).III. That "Drop," or the left arm raised nearly perpendicularly, or the report of a gun, means that he is to crouch down with his head close to the ground, between his feet, however far off he may be ranging. Greater relaxation in the position may be permitted after he has been a little time shot over (22 to 26).IV. That "On,"—the shortest word for "hie-on,"—or the forward underhand swing of the right hand, signifies that he is to advance in a forward direction—the direction in which you are waving. This signal is very useful. It implies that you want the dog to hunt ahead of you. Yon employ it also when you are alongside of him at his point, and are desirous of urging him to follow up the running bird or birds, and press to a rise. If he push on too eagerly, you restrain him by slightly raising the right hand—XII. of this paragraph (18 to 21).V. That a wave of the right arm and hand—the arm being fully extended and well to the right—from left to right, means that he is to hunt to the right. Some men wave the left hand across the body from left to right, as a direction to the dog to hunt to the right; but that signal is not so apparent at a distance as the one I have described (32).VI. That a wave of the left arm from right to left—the arm being fully extended and well to the left—means that he is to hunt to the left (33).VII. That the "Beckon," the wave of the right hand towards you, indicates that he is to hunt towards you (33. See also67).VIII. That the word "Heel," or a wave of the right hand to the rear—the reverse of the underhand, cricket-bowler's swing,—implies that he is to give up hunting, and go directly close to your heels (40).IX. That "Fence" means that he is not to leave the place where you are. After being so checked a few times when he is endeavoring to quit the field, he will understand the word to be an order not to "break fence" (42,43).X. That "Find" or "Seek" means that he is to search for something which he will have great gratification in discovering. When he is in the field he will quickly understand this to be game (30,31).XI. That "Dead"—which it would be well to accompanywith the signal to "Heel," means that there is something not far off, which he would have great satisfaction in finding. On hearing it, he will come to you, and await your signals instructing him in what direction he is to hunt for it. When, by signals, you have put him as near as you can upon the spot where you think the bird has fallen, you will say "Find;" for, until you say that word, he ought to be more occupied in attending to your signals than in searching for the bird. When you have shot a good many birds to him, if he is within sight, in order to work more silently, omit saying "Dead," only signal to him to go to "Heel" (18,30,31,40).XII. That "Care" means that he is near that for which he is hunting. This word, used with the right hand slightly raised—the signal for the "Toho," only not exhibited nearly so energetically—will soon make him comprehend that game is near him, and that he is therefore to hunt cautiously. You will use it when your young dog is racing too fast among turnips or potatoes (35).XIII. That "Up" means that he is to sniff with his nose high in the air for that of which he is in search (37).XIV. That "Away"—or "Gone," or "Flown"—is an indication that the thing for which he was hunting and of which he smells the taint, is no longer there. This word is not to be used in the fielduntil your young dog has gained some experience (41).XV. That "Ware"—pronounced "War"—is a general order to desist from whatever he may be doing. "No" is perhaps a better word; it can be pronounced more distinctly and energetically. If the command is occasionally accompanied with the cracking of your whip, its meaning will soon be understood (43).XVI. He will also know the distinction between the chiding term "Bad" and the encouraging word "Good"; and, moreover, be sensible, from your look and manner, whether you are pleased or angry with him. Dogs, like children, are physiognomists (36, end of104).

I. That he is to pay attention to his whistle—the whistle that you design always to use to him. I mean that, when he hearsonelow blast on his whistle he is to look to you for orders, but not necessarily run towards you, unless he is out of sight, or you continue whistling (18).

II. That "Toho," or the right arm raised nearly perpendicularly, means that he is to stand still (19to21).

III. That "Drop," or the left arm raised nearly perpendicularly, or the report of a gun, means that he is to crouch down with his head close to the ground, between his feet, however far off he may be ranging. Greater relaxation in the position may be permitted after he has been a little time shot over (22 to 26).

IV. That "On,"—the shortest word for "hie-on,"—or the forward underhand swing of the right hand, signifies that he is to advance in a forward direction—the direction in which you are waving. This signal is very useful. It implies that you want the dog to hunt ahead of you. Yon employ it also when you are alongside of him at his point, and are desirous of urging him to follow up the running bird or birds, and press to a rise. If he push on too eagerly, you restrain him by slightly raising the right hand—XII. of this paragraph (18 to 21).

V. That a wave of the right arm and hand—the arm being fully extended and well to the right—from left to right, means that he is to hunt to the right. Some men wave the left hand across the body from left to right, as a direction to the dog to hunt to the right; but that signal is not so apparent at a distance as the one I have described (32).

VI. That a wave of the left arm from right to left—the arm being fully extended and well to the left—means that he is to hunt to the left (33).

VII. That the "Beckon," the wave of the right hand towards you, indicates that he is to hunt towards you (33. See also67).

VIII. That the word "Heel," or a wave of the right hand to the rear—the reverse of the underhand, cricket-bowler's swing,—implies that he is to give up hunting, and go directly close to your heels (40).

IX. That "Fence" means that he is not to leave the place where you are. After being so checked a few times when he is endeavoring to quit the field, he will understand the word to be an order not to "break fence" (42,43).

X. That "Find" or "Seek" means that he is to search for something which he will have great gratification in discovering. When he is in the field he will quickly understand this to be game (30,31).

XI. That "Dead"—which it would be well to accompanywith the signal to "Heel," means that there is something not far off, which he would have great satisfaction in finding. On hearing it, he will come to you, and await your signals instructing him in what direction he is to hunt for it. When, by signals, you have put him as near as you can upon the spot where you think the bird has fallen, you will say "Find;" for, until you say that word, he ought to be more occupied in attending to your signals than in searching for the bird. When you have shot a good many birds to him, if he is within sight, in order to work more silently, omit saying "Dead," only signal to him to go to "Heel" (18,30,31,40).

XII. That "Care" means that he is near that for which he is hunting. This word, used with the right hand slightly raised—the signal for the "Toho," only not exhibited nearly so energetically—will soon make him comprehend that game is near him, and that he is therefore to hunt cautiously. You will use it when your young dog is racing too fast among turnips or potatoes (35).

XIII. That "Up" means that he is to sniff with his nose high in the air for that of which he is in search (37).

XIV. That "Away"—or "Gone," or "Flown"—is an indication that the thing for which he was hunting and of which he smells the taint, is no longer there. This word is not to be used in the fielduntil your young dog has gained some experience (41).

XV. That "Ware"—pronounced "War"—is a general order to desist from whatever he may be doing. "No" is perhaps a better word; it can be pronounced more distinctly and energetically. If the command is occasionally accompanied with the cracking of your whip, its meaning will soon be understood (43).

XVI. He will also know the distinction between the chiding term "Bad" and the encouraging word "Good"; and, moreover, be sensible, from your look and manner, whether you are pleased or angry with him. Dogs, like children, are physiognomists (36, end of104).

120. You will perceive that you are advised to use the right hand more than the left. This is only because the left hand is so generally employed in carrying the gun.

121. You will also observe, that when the voice is employed—and this should be done only when the dog will not obey your signals—I have recommended you to make use of butoneword. Why should you say "Come to heel," "Ware breaking fence," "Have a care?" If you speak in sentences, you may at times unconsciously vary the words of the sentence, or the emphasis on any word; and as it is only by the sound that you should expect a dog to be guided, the more defined and distinct in sound the several commands are the better.

122. This consideration leads to the remark that, as, by nearly universal consent, "Toho" is the word employed to tell a dog to point, the old rule is clearly a judicious one, never to call him "Ponto," "Sancho," or by any name ending in "o." Always, too, choose one that can be hallooed in a sharp, loud, high key. You will find the advantage of this whenever you lose your dog, and happen not to have a whistle. Observe, also, if you have several dogs, to let their names be dissimilar in sound.

123. I have suggested your employing the word "Drop" instead of the usual word "Down," because it is less likely to be uttered by any one on whom the dog might jump or fawn; for, on principle, I strongly object to any order being given which is not strictly enforced. It begets in a dog, as much as in the nobler animal who walks on two legs, habits of inattention to words of command, and ultimately makes greater severity necessary. If I felt certain I should never wish to part with a dog I was instructing, I should carry this principle so far as to frame a novel vocabulary, and never use any word I thought he would be likely to hear from others. By the bye, whenever you purchase a dog, it would be advisable to ascertain what words of command and what signals he has been accustomed to.

FOOTNOTES:[20]I once had a pointer pup whose dam was broken in (after a fashion) and regularly shot to when seven months old. Without injury to her constitution, she could not have been hunted for more than an hour or two at a time. She ought not to have been taken to the field forregularuse until fully a year old.

[20]I once had a pointer pup whose dam was broken in (after a fashion) and regularly shot to when seven months old. Without injury to her constitution, she could not have been hunted for more than an hour or two at a time. She ought not to have been taken to the field forregularuse until fully a year old.

[20]I once had a pointer pup whose dam was broken in (after a fashion) and regularly shot to when seven months old. Without injury to her constitution, she could not have been hunted for more than an hour or two at a time. She ought not to have been taken to the field forregularuse until fully a year old.

124. A keeper nearly always breaks in his young dogs to "set," if their ages permit it, on favorable days in Spring, when the partridges have paired.[21]He gets plenty of points, and the birds lie well. But I cannot believe it is the best way to attain great excellence, though the plan has many followers: it does not cultivate the intelligence of his pupils, nor enlarge their ideas by making them sensible of the object for which such pains are taken in hunting them. Moreover, their natural ardor—a feeling that it should be his aim rather to increase than weaken—is more or less damped by having often to stand at game before they can be rewarded for their exertions by having it killed to them,—it prevents, rather than imparts, the zeal and perseverance for which Irish dogs are so remarkable. Particularly ought abreaker, whose pupil is of nervous temperament, or of too gentle a disposition, to consider well that the want of all recompense for finding paired birds must make a timid dog far more likely to become a "blinker," when he is checked for not pointing them, than when he is checked for not pointing birds which his own impetuosity alone deprives him of every chance of rapturously "touseling." The very fact that "the birds lie well" frequently leads to mischief; for, if the instructor be not very watchful, there is a fear that his youngsters may succeed in getting too close to their game before he forces them to come to a staunch point. A keeper, however, has but little choice—and it is not a bad time to teach the back—if his master insists upon shooting over the animals the first day of the season, and expects to find them what some call "perfectly broken in." But I trust some of my readers have nobler ends in view; therefore,

125. I will suppose your youngster to have been well grounded in his initiatory lessons, and that you take him out when the crops are nearly off the ground—by which time there will be few squeakers—on a fine cool day in September,—alas! that it cannot be an August day on the moors,—to show him birds for the first time. As he is assumed to be highly bred, you may start in the confident expectation of killing partridges over him, especially if he is a pointer. Have his nose moist and healthy. Take him out when the birds are on the feed, and of an afternoon in preference to the morning,—unlessfrom an unusually dry season there be but little scent,—that he may not be attracted by the taint of hares or rabbits. Take him out alone, if he evince any disposition to hunt, which, at the age we will presume him to have attained next season, we must assume that he will do, and with great zeal. Be much guided by his temper and character. Should he possess great courage and dash, you cannot begin too soon to make him point. You should always check a wild dog in racing after pigeons and small birds on their rising; whereas you should encourage a timid dog—one who clings to "heel"—in such a fruitless but exciting chase. The measures to be pursued with such an animal are fully detailed in111,112.

126. I may as well caution you against adopting the foolish practice of attempting to cheer on your dog with a constant low whistle, under the mistaken idea that it will animate him to increased zeal in hunting. From perpetually hearing the monotonous sound, it would prove as little of an incentive to exertion as a continued chirrup to a horse; and yet if habituated to it, your dog would greatly miss it whenever hunted by a stranger. Not unregarded, however, would it be by the birds, to whom on a calm day it would act as a very useful warning.

127. Though you have not moors, fortunately we can suppose your fields to be of a good size. Avoid all which have recently been manured. Select those that are large, and in which you are the least likely tofind birds, until his spirits are somewhat sobered, and he begins partly to comprehend your instructions respecting his range. There is no reason why he should not have been taken out a few days before this,not to show him birds, but to have commenced teaching him how to traverse his ground. Indeed, if we had supposed him of a sufficient age—111—he might by this time be somewhat advanced towards a systematic beat. It is seeing birds early that is to be deprecated, not his being taught how to range.

128.Be careful to enter every field at the leeward[22]side—about the middle,—that he may have the wind to work against. Choose a day when there is a breeze, but not a boisterous one. In a calm the scent is stationary, and can hardly be found unless accidentally. In a gale it is scattered to the four quarters.[23]Youwant not an undirected ramble, but a judicious traversing beat under your own guidance, which shall leave no ground unexplored, and yet have none twice explored.

129. Suppose the form of the field, as is usually the case, to approach a parallelogram or square, and that the wind blows in any direction but diagonally across it. On entering at the leeward side send the dog from you by a wave of your hand or the word "On." You wish him, while you are advancing up the middle of it, to cross you at right angles, say from right to left,—then to run up-wind for a little, parallel to your own direction, and afterwards to recross in front of you from left to right, and so on until the whole field is regularly hunted. To effect this, notwithstanding your previous preparatory lessons, you will have to show him the way,as it were—setting him an example in your own person,—by running a few steps in the direction you wish him to go—say to the right,—cheering him on to take the lead. As he gets near the extremity of his beat, when he does not observe you, he can steal a small advance in the true direction of your own beat, which is directly up the middle of the field meeting the wind. If perceiving your advance he turn towards you, face him—wave your right hand to him, and, while he sees you, run on a few paces in his direction—that is,parallelto his true direction. As he approaches the hedge—the one on your right hand, but be careful that he does not get close to it, lest, from often finding game there, he ultimately become a potterer and regular hedge hunter—face towards him, and on catching his eye, wave your left arm. If you cannot succeed in catching his eye, you must give one low whistle—the less you habituate yourself to use the whistle, the less you will alarm the birds—study to do all, as far as is practicable, by signals. You wish your wave of the left arm to make the dog turn to the left—his head to the wind,—and that he should run parallel to the side of the hedge for some yards—say from thirty to forty—before he makes his second turn to the left to cross the field; but you must expect him to turn too directly towards you on your first signal to turn. Should he by any rare chance have made the turn—the first one—correctly, and thus be hunting up-wind, on no account interrupt him by making any signals until he has run up the distance youwish—the aforesaid thirty or forty yards,—then again catch his eye, and, as before—not now, however, faced towards him and the hedge, but faced towards your true direction,—by a wave of the left arm endeavor to make him turn to the left—across the wind. If, contrary to what you have a right to suppose, he will not turn towards you on your giving a whistle and wave of your hand, stand still, and continue whistling—eventually he will obey. But you must not indulge in the faintest hope that all I have described will be done correctly; be satisfied at first with an approach towards accuracy; you will daily find an improvement, if you persevere steadily. When you see that there is but little chance of his turning the way you want, at once use the signal more consonant to his views, for it should be your constant endeavor to make him fancy that he is always ranging according to the directions of your hands. Be particular in attending to this hint.

130. His past tuition—34—most probably will have accustomed him to watch your eye for directions, therefore it is not likely, even should he have made a wrong turn near the hedge—a turn down-wind instead of up-wind, which would wholly have prevented the required advance parallel to the hedge,—that he will cross in rear of you. Should he, however, do so, retreat a few steps,—or face about, if he is far in the rear,—in order to impress him with the feeling that all his work must be performed under your eye. Animate him with an encouraging word as he passes. When he gets near the edge to theleft, endeavor, by signals—agreeably to the method just explained—129—to make him turn to the—his—right, his head to the wind, and run up alongside of it for thirty to forty yards, if you can manage it, before he begins to recross the field, by making a second turn to the right. If you could get him to do this, he would cross well in advance of you.

131. Though most likely his turn—the first—the turn up-wind—will be too abrupt—too much of an acute angle instead of the required right angle,—and that consequently, in order to get ahead of you, he will have to traverse the field diagonally, yet after a few trials it is probable he will do so rather than not get in front of you. This would be better than the former attempt—not obliging you to face about—express your approval, and the next turn near the hedge may be made with a bolder sweep. Remember your aim is, that no part be unhunted, and that none once commanded by his nose should be again hunted. He ought to cross, say thirty yards in front of you, butmuchwill depend upon his nose.

132. Nearly on every occasion of catching his eye, except when he is running up-wind parallel to the hedge, give him some kind of signal. This will more and more confirm him in the habit of looking to you, from time to time, for orders, and thus aid in insuring his constant obedience. After a while, judging by the way in which your face is turned, he will know in what direction you propose advancing, and will guide his own movementsaccordingly. Should he, as most probably he will for some time, turn too sharply towards you when getting near the hedge, I mean at too acute an angle, incline or rather face towards him. This, coupled with the natural wish to range unrestrained, will make him hunt longer parallel to the hedge, before he makes his second turn towards you.

133. You may at first strive to correct your dog's turning too abruptly inwards—the first turn—by pushing on in your own person further ahead on your own beat; but when he has acquired if merely the slightest idea of a correct range, be most careful not to get in advance of the ground he is to hunt; your doing so might habituate him to cross the field diagonally—thereby leaving much of the sides of the fields unhunted,—in order to get ahead of you; and, moreover,youmight spring birds you are anxiousheshould find. Should he, on the other hand, be inclined to work too far upward before making his turn to cross the field, hang back in your own person.

134. Though you may be in an unenclosed country, let him range at first to no more than from seventy to eighty yards on each side of you. You can gradually extend these lateral beats as he becomes conversant with his business—indeed at the commencement rather diminish than increase the distances just named, both for the length of the parallels and the space between them. Do not allow the alluring title "a fine wide ranger" to tempt you to let him out of leading strings. If he beonce permitted to imagine that he has a discretionary power respecting the best places to hunt, and the direction and length of his beats, you will find it extremely difficult to get him again well in hand. On the moors his range must be far greater than on the stubbles, but still the rudiments must be taught on this contracted scale or you will never get him to look to you for orders. Doyoukeep entire control over his beats; lethimhave almost the sole management of his drawing upon birds, provided he does not puzzle, or run riot too long over an old haunt. Give him time, and after a little experience his nose will tell him more surely than your judgment can, whether he is working on the "toe" or "heel" of birds, and whether he diverges from or approaches the strongest and most recent haunt—do not flurry or hurry him, and he will soon acquire that knowledge.

135. As the powers of scent vary greatly in different dogs, the depth of their turns—or parallels—ought to vary also, and it will be hereafter for you to judge what distance between the parallels it is most advantageous for your youngster ultimately to adopt in his general hunting. The deeper its turns are, of course, the more ground you will beat within a specified time. What you have to guard against is the possibility of their being so wide that birds may be passed by unnoticed. I should not like to name the distance within which goodcautiousdogs that carry their heads high will wind game on a favorable day.

136. If you design your pupil, when broken in, tohunt with a companion, and wish both the dogs, as is usual, to cross you, you will, of course, habituate him to make his sweeps—the space between the parallels—wider than if you had intended him to hunt without any one to share his labors.

137. I need hardly warn you to be careful not to interrupt him whenever he appears to be winding birds. However good his nose may be by nature, it will not gain experience and discrimination unless you give him a certain time to determine for himself whether he has really touched upon a faint scent of birds, and whether they are in his front or rear, or gone away altogether. Like every other faculty, his sense of smell will improve the more it is exercised. But on the other hand, as I observed before, do not let him continue puzzling with his nose close to the ground,—urge him on,—make him increase his pace,—force him to search elsewhere, and he will gradually elevate his head, and, catching the scent of other particles, will follow up these with a nose borne aloft, unless he is a brute not worth a twentieth part of the pains which you think of bestowing upon him; for,

138. Besides the greatly decreased chance of finding them, birds that to a certainty would become uneasy, and make off if pursued by a dog tracking them, will often lie well to one who finds them by the wind. They are then not aware that they are discovered, and the dog, from the information his nose gives him, can approach them either boldly or with great wariness, according as he perceives them to be more or less shy.

139. If, being unable to catch the dog's eye, you are forced to use the whistle frequently, and he continues inattentive to it, notwithstanding his previous tuition, stand still—make him lie down—by the word "drop," if he will not obey your raised left arm—go up to him—take hold of his collar, and rate him, saying, "Bad, bad," cracking your whip over him—let the whip be one that will crack loudly, not for present purposes, but that, when occasion requires, he may hear it at a distance—and whistling softly. This will show him—should you beat him, you would confuse his ideas—that he is chidden for not paying attention to the whistle. Indeed, whenever you have occasion to scold or punish him, make it a constant rule, while you rate him, to repeat many times the word of command, or the signal which he has neglected to obey. There is no other way by which you will make him understand youquickly. You must expect that your young dog will for some time make sad mistakes in his range;—but be not discouraged. Doubtless there is no one thing,—I was going to say, that there are no dozen things,—in the whole art of dog-breaking, which are so difficult to attain, or which exact so much labor, as a high, well-confirmed, systematic range. Nature will not assist you—you must do it all yourself; but in recompense there is nothing so advantageous when it is at length acquired. It will abundantly repay months of persevering exertion. It constitutes the grand criterion of true excellence. Its attainment makes a dog of inferior nose and action farsuperior to one of much greater natural qualifications, who may be tomfooling about, galloping backwards and forwards, sometimes over identically the same ground, quite uselessly exerting his travelling powers; now and then, indeed, arrested by the suspicion of a haunt, which he is not experienced enough, or sufficiently taught, to turn to good account,—and occasionally brought to a stiff point on birds accidentally found right under his nose. It is undeniable,cœteris paribus, that the dog who hunts his ground most according to rule must in the end find most game.

FOOTNOTES:[21]In ordinary seasons immediately after St. Valentine's Day—before the birds have made their nests. The first of September is the commencement of partridge shooting in England, as the 26th of Oct. and the 1st of Nov. are generally in America for quail.All the breaking for partridge in this work, is applicable and must be referred to quail in America. Grouse shooting on the moors in England is applicable to our prairie shooting, and pheasant shooting to our ruffed grouse shooting, when that may be had. The reader must, therefore, transfer the months and seasons accordingly.—H.W.H.[22]"Leeward"—a nautical phrase—here meaning the side towards which the wind blowsfromthe field. If you entered elsewhere, the dog while ranging would be tempted, from the natural bearing of his nose towards the wind, to come back upon you, making his first turn inwards instead of outwards.[23]But, independently of these obvious reasons, scent is affected by causes into the nature of which none of us can penetrate. There is a contrariety in it that ever has puzzled, and apparently ever will puzzle, the most observant sportsman—whether a lover of the chase or gun,—and therefore, in ignorance of the doubtless immutable, though to us inexplicable, laws by which it is regulated, we are contented to call it "capricious." Immediately before heavy rain there frequently is none. It is undeniable that moisture will at one time destroy it—at another time bring it. That on certain days—in slight frost, for instance,—setters will recognise it better than pointers, and, on the other hand, that the nose of the latter will prove far superior after a long continuance of dry weather, and this even when the setter has been furnished with abundance of water—which circumstance pleads in favor of hunting pointers and setters together. The argument against it, is the usual inequality of their pace, and, to the eye of some sportsmen, the want of harmony in their appearance. Should not this uncertainty respecting the recognition of scent teach us not to continue hunting a good dog who is frequently making mistakes, but rather to keep him at "heel" for an hour or two? He will consider it a kind of punishment, and be doubly careful when next enlarged. Moreover, he may be slightly feverish from overwork, or he may have come in contact with some impurity,—in either of which cases his nose would be temporarily out of order.

[21]In ordinary seasons immediately after St. Valentine's Day—before the birds have made their nests. The first of September is the commencement of partridge shooting in England, as the 26th of Oct. and the 1st of Nov. are generally in America for quail.All the breaking for partridge in this work, is applicable and must be referred to quail in America. Grouse shooting on the moors in England is applicable to our prairie shooting, and pheasant shooting to our ruffed grouse shooting, when that may be had. The reader must, therefore, transfer the months and seasons accordingly.—H.W.H.

[21]In ordinary seasons immediately after St. Valentine's Day—before the birds have made their nests. The first of September is the commencement of partridge shooting in England, as the 26th of Oct. and the 1st of Nov. are generally in America for quail.

All the breaking for partridge in this work, is applicable and must be referred to quail in America. Grouse shooting on the moors in England is applicable to our prairie shooting, and pheasant shooting to our ruffed grouse shooting, when that may be had. The reader must, therefore, transfer the months and seasons accordingly.—H.W.H.

[22]"Leeward"—a nautical phrase—here meaning the side towards which the wind blowsfromthe field. If you entered elsewhere, the dog while ranging would be tempted, from the natural bearing of his nose towards the wind, to come back upon you, making his first turn inwards instead of outwards.

[22]"Leeward"—a nautical phrase—here meaning the side towards which the wind blowsfromthe field. If you entered elsewhere, the dog while ranging would be tempted, from the natural bearing of his nose towards the wind, to come back upon you, making his first turn inwards instead of outwards.

[23]But, independently of these obvious reasons, scent is affected by causes into the nature of which none of us can penetrate. There is a contrariety in it that ever has puzzled, and apparently ever will puzzle, the most observant sportsman—whether a lover of the chase or gun,—and therefore, in ignorance of the doubtless immutable, though to us inexplicable, laws by which it is regulated, we are contented to call it "capricious." Immediately before heavy rain there frequently is none. It is undeniable that moisture will at one time destroy it—at another time bring it. That on certain days—in slight frost, for instance,—setters will recognise it better than pointers, and, on the other hand, that the nose of the latter will prove far superior after a long continuance of dry weather, and this even when the setter has been furnished with abundance of water—which circumstance pleads in favor of hunting pointers and setters together. The argument against it, is the usual inequality of their pace, and, to the eye of some sportsmen, the want of harmony in their appearance. Should not this uncertainty respecting the recognition of scent teach us not to continue hunting a good dog who is frequently making mistakes, but rather to keep him at "heel" for an hour or two? He will consider it a kind of punishment, and be doubly careful when next enlarged. Moreover, he may be slightly feverish from overwork, or he may have come in contact with some impurity,—in either of which cases his nose would be temporarily out of order.

[23]But, independently of these obvious reasons, scent is affected by causes into the nature of which none of us can penetrate. There is a contrariety in it that ever has puzzled, and apparently ever will puzzle, the most observant sportsman—whether a lover of the chase or gun,—and therefore, in ignorance of the doubtless immutable, though to us inexplicable, laws by which it is regulated, we are contented to call it "capricious." Immediately before heavy rain there frequently is none. It is undeniable that moisture will at one time destroy it—at another time bring it. That on certain days—in slight frost, for instance,—setters will recognise it better than pointers, and, on the other hand, that the nose of the latter will prove far superior after a long continuance of dry weather, and this even when the setter has been furnished with abundance of water—which circumstance pleads in favor of hunting pointers and setters together. The argument against it, is the usual inequality of their pace, and, to the eye of some sportsmen, the want of harmony in their appearance. Should not this uncertainty respecting the recognition of scent teach us not to continue hunting a good dog who is frequently making mistakes, but rather to keep him at "heel" for an hour or two? He will consider it a kind of punishment, and be doubly careful when next enlarged. Moreover, he may be slightly feverish from overwork, or he may have come in contact with some impurity,—in either of which cases his nose would be temporarily out of order.

140. If it is your fixed determination to confirm your dog in the truly-killing range described in last Chapter, do not associate him for months in the field with another dog, however highly broken. It would be far better to devote but two hours per diem to your pupil exclusively, than to hunt him the whole day with a companion.

141. Many breakers do exactly the reverse of this. They take out an old steady ranger, with the intention that he shall lead the young dog, and that the latter,from imitation and habit, shall learn how to quarter his ground. But what he gains by imitation will so little improve his intellects, that, when thrown upon his own resources, he will prove a miserable finder. On a hot, dry day he will not be able to make out a feather, nor on any day to "foot" a delicate scent. I grant that the plan expedites matters, and attains the end whichmostprofessional trainers seek; but it will not give a dog self confidence and independence, it will not impart to him an inquiring nose, and make him rely on its sensitiveness to discover game, rather than to his quickness of eye to detect when his friend touches upon a haunt; nor will it instruct him to look from time to time towards the gun for directions. It may teach him a range, but not to hunt where he is ordered; nor will it habituate him to vary the breadth of the parallels on which he works, according as his master may judge it to be a good or bad scenting day.

142. To establish the rare, noble beat I am recommending,—one not hereafter to be deranged by the temptation, of a furrow in turnips or potatoes,—you must have the philosophy not to hunt your dog in them until he is accustomed in his range to be guided entirely by the wind and your signals, and is in no way influenced by the nature of the ground. Even then it would be better not to beat narrow strips across which it would be impossible for him to make his regular casts. Avoid, too, for some time, if you can, all small fields—which will only contract his range,—and all fields with trenchesor furrows, for he will but too naturally follow them instead of paying attention to his true beat. Have you never, in low lands, seen a young dog running down a potato or turnip trench, out of which his master, after much labor, had no sooner extracted him than he dropped into the adjacent one? It is the absence of artificial tracks which makes the range of nearly all dogswellbroken on the moors, so much truer than that of dogs hunted on cultivated lands.

143. Moreover, in turnips, potatoes, clover, and the like thick shelter, birds will generally permit a dog to approach so closely, that if he is much accustomed to hunt such places, he will be sure to acquire the evil habit of pressing too near his game when finding on the stubbles—instead of being startled as it were into an instantaneous stop the moment he first winds game,—and thus raise many a bird out of gun-shot that a cautious dog—one who slackens his pace the instant he judges that he is beating a likely spot—would not have alarmed.

144. "Acautiousdog!" Can there well be a more flattering epithet?[24]Such a dog can hardly travel too fast[25]in a tolerably open country, where there is nota superabundance of game,ifhe really hunt with an inquiring nose;—but to his master what an all-important "if" is this! It marks the difference between the sagacious, wary, patient, yet diligent animal, whose every sense and every faculty is absorbed in his endeavor to make out birds, not for himself but the gun, and the wild harum-scarum who blunders up three-fourths of the birds he finds. No! notfinds, but frightens,—for he is not aware of their presence until they are on the wing, and seldom points unless he gets some heedless bird right under his nose, when an ignoramus, in admiration of the beauty of the dog's sudden attitude, will often forget the mischief which he has done.

145. Though you cannot improve a dog's nose, you can do what is nearly tantamount to it—you can increase his caution. By watching for the slightest token of his feathering, and then calling out "Toho," or making the signal, you will gradually teach him to look out for the faintest indication of a scent, andpoint the instant he winds it, instead of heedlessly hunting on until he meets a more exciting effluvia. See174 to 176, and228.

146. If from a want of animation in his manner you are not able to judge of the moment when he first winds game, and you thus are not able to call out "Toho" until he gets close to birds, quietly pull him back from his point "dead to leeward" for some paces, and there make him resume his point. Perseverance in this plan will ultimately effect your wishes, unless his nose is radically wrong. A dog's pointing too near his game morefrequently arises from want of caution—in other words, from want of good instruction—than from a defective nose.

147. Slow dogs readily acquire this caution; but fast dogs cannot be taught it without great labor. You have to show them the necessity of diminishing their pace, that their noses may have fair play. If you have such a pupil to instruct, when you get near birds you have marked down, signal to him to come to "heel"Whisperto him "Care," and let him see by your light, slow tread, your anxiety not to alarm the birds. If he has never shown any symptoms of blinking, you may, a few times, thus spring the birds yourself while you keep him close to you. On the next occasion of marking down birds, or coming to a very likely spot, bring him into "heel," and after an impressive injunction to take "care," give him two or three very limited casts to the right or left, and lethimfind the birds while you instruct him as described in228. As there will be no fear of such a dog making false points, take him often to the fields where he has most frequently met birds. The expectation of again coming on them, and the recollection of the lectures he there received, will be likely to make him cautious on entering it. I remember a particular spot in a certain field that early in the season constantly held birds. A young dog I then possessed never approached it afterwards without drawing upon it most carefully, though he had not found there for months. At first I had some difficulty in preventing the "draw" from becoming a "point."

148. I have elsewhere observed that fast dogs, which give most trouble in breaking, usually turn out best: now if you think for a moment you will see the reason plainly. A young dog does not ultimately become first-rate because he is wild and headstrong, and regardless of orders, but because his speed and disobedience arise from his great energies,—from his fondness for the sport, from his longing to inhale the exhilarating scent and pursue the flying game. It is the possession of these qualities that makes him, in his anxious state of excitement, blind to your signals and deaf to your calls. These obviously are qualities that,under good management,[26]lead to great excellence and superiority,—that make one dog do the work of two. But they are not qualities sought for by an idle or incompetent breaker.

149. These valuable qualities in the fast dog, must, however, be accompanied with a searching nose. It is not enough that a dog be always apparently hunting, that is to say, always on the gallop—his nose should always be hunting. When this is the case, and you may be pretty certain it is if, as he crosses the breeze, his nose has intuitively a bearing to windward, you need not fear that he will travel too fast, or not repay you ultimately for the great extra trouble caused by his high spirits and ardor for the sport.

150. You have been recommended invariably to enter every field by the leeward side. This you can generally accomplish with ease, if you commence your day's beat to leeward. Should circumstances oblige you to enter a field on the windward side, make it a rule, as long as your dog continues a youngster, to call him to "heel," and walk down the field with him until you get to the opposite side—the leeward—then hunt him regularly up to windward.

151. I have read wondrous accounts of dogs, who, without giving themselves the trouble of quartering their ground, would walk straight up to the birds if there were any in the field. It has never been my luck, I do not say to have possessed such marvellous animals, but even to have been favored with a sight of them. I therefore am inclined to think, let your means be what they may, that you would find it better not to advertise for creatures undoubtedly most rare, but to act upon the common belief that, as the scent of birds, more or less, impregnates the air, no dog, let his nose be ever so fine, can, except accidentally, wind game unless he seeks for the taint in the air—and that the dog who regularly crosses the wind must have a better chance of finding it than he who only works up wind—and that down wind he can have little other chance than by "roading."

152. It is heedlessness—the exact opposite of this extreme caution—that makes young dogs so often disregard and overrun a slight scent; and since they aremore inclined to commit this error from the rivalry of companionship, an additional argument is presented in favor of breaking them separately, and giving them their own time, leisurely and methodically, to work out a scent,provided the nose be carried high. I am satisfied most of us hurry young dogs too much.

FOOTNOTES:[24]Provided always he be not perpetually pointing, as occasionally will happen—and is the more likely to happen if he has been injudiciously taught as a puppy to set chickens, and has thereby acquired the evil habit of "standing by eye;" which, however, may have made him a first-rate hand at pointing crows.[25]With the understanding that the pace does not make him "shut up" before the day is over.[26]The more resolute a dog is, the more pains should be taken, before he is shown game, to perfect him in the instant "drop"—25—however far off he may be ranging.

[24]Provided always he be not perpetually pointing, as occasionally will happen—and is the more likely to happen if he has been injudiciously taught as a puppy to set chickens, and has thereby acquired the evil habit of "standing by eye;" which, however, may have made him a first-rate hand at pointing crows.

[24]Provided always he be not perpetually pointing, as occasionally will happen—and is the more likely to happen if he has been injudiciously taught as a puppy to set chickens, and has thereby acquired the evil habit of "standing by eye;" which, however, may have made him a first-rate hand at pointing crows.

[25]With the understanding that the pace does not make him "shut up" before the day is over.

[25]With the understanding that the pace does not make him "shut up" before the day is over.

[26]The more resolute a dog is, the more pains should be taken, before he is shown game, to perfect him in the instant "drop"—25—however far off he may be ranging.

[26]The more resolute a dog is, the more pains should be taken, before he is shown game, to perfect him in the instant "drop"—25—however far off he may be ranging.

153. Of course you will not let your pupil "break fence," or get out of your sight. Be on the watch to whistle or call out "Fence," the instant you perceive that he is thinking of quitting the field. Do not wait until he is out of sight; check him by anticipating his intentions. Should he, unperceived, or in defiance of your orders, get into a field before you, call him back—by the same opening, if practicable, through which he passed, the more clearly to show him his folly;—and do not proceed further until he has obeyed you. A steady adherence to this rule will soon convince him of the inutility of not exercising more patience, or at least forbearance; then signal to him "away"in the directionyouchoose, not in the directionhechooses. It is essential that you should be the first over every fence. In the scramble, birds, at which you ought to have a shot, are frequently sprung. If he is not obedient to your orders make him "drop," and rate him as described in139.

154. A dog from his own observation so much feels,—and in a greater or less degree, according to his education,—the necessity of watching in what direction you are walking, that if he is habituated to work under your eye,—I mean, is never allowed to hunt behind you,—by turning your back upon him when he is paying no attention to your signals, you will often be able to bring him away from a spot where he is ranging—perhaps down wind—against your wishes, at a time when you are afraid to whistle, lest you should alarm the birds. Waving your hand backwards and forwards near the ground, and stooping low while walking slowly about, as if in search of something, will often attract the attention of an ill-taught, self-willed dog; and his anxiety to participate in the find, and share the sport which he imagines you expect, will frequently induce him to run up, and hunt alongside of you for any close lying bird.

155. Never be induced to hunt your young dog,—nor indeed any dog,—when he is tired. If you do, you will give him a slovenly carriage and habits, and lessen his zeal for the sport. In order to come in for a sniff, at a time when he is too fatigued to search for it himself, he will crawl after his companion, watching for any indicationof his finding. As they become wearied you will have a difficulty in keeping even old well-broken dogs separate—much more young ones, however independently they may have ranged when fresh. You may also, to a certainty, expect false points; but what is of far more consequence, by frequently overtasking your dog, you will as effectually waste his constitution as you would your horse's by premature work.

156. If he is very young when first entered, two or three hours' work at a time will be sufficient. When he is tired, or rather before he is tired, send him home with the man who brings you a relief. Do not fancy your dog will be getting a rest if he is allowed to follow at your heels for the remainder of the day, coupled to a companion. His fretting at not being allowed to share in the sport he sees, will take nearly as much out of him as if you permitted him to hunt. If you can persuade John always to rub him down, and brush and dry him—nay even to let him enjoy an hour's basking in front of the fire—before he shuts him up in the kennel, you will add years to his existence; and remember that one old experienced dog, whose constitution is uninjured, is worth two young ones.

157. When you hunt a brace of dogs, to speak theoretically, they should traverse a field in opposite directions, but along parallel lines, and the distance between the lines should be regulated by you according as it is a good or a bad scenting day, and according to the excellence of the dogs' noses. Mathematicalaccuracy is, of course, never to be attained, but the closer you approach the better.

158. You should attempt it—on entering the field toleeward, as before directed—by making one dog go straight ahead of you to the distance which you wish the parallel lines to be apart from each other, before you cast him off—say—to the right; then cast off his companion to the left. If the dogs are nearly equal in pace, the one ahead, so long as he does not fancy he winds game, should continue to work on a parallel more advanced than the other.

159. Should you not like to relinquish, for the sake of this formal precision, the chance of a find in the neglected right-hand corner of the field, cast off one dog to the right and the other to the left, on entering it, and make the one that soonest approaches his hedge take the widest sweep—turn—and so be placed in theadvanced, parallel.

160. With regard to hunting more than a brace—when your difficulties wonderfully multiply—your own judgment must determine in what manner to direct their travelling powers to the greatest advantage. Much will depend upon the different speed of the dogs; the number you choose from whim, or otherwise, to hunt; the kind of country you beat; and the quantity and sort of game you expect to find. It is, however, certain you must wish that each dog be observant of the direction in which your face is turned, in order that he may guide his own movements by yours;—that he from timeto time look towards you to see if you have any commands; and that he be ever anxious to obey them.

161. Herbert writes as follows, in his work on shooting in the United States:[27]his words ought to have influence, for manifestly he is a good sportsman; but I own I cannot quite agree with him as to thefacilitywith which a range can be taught: "It is wonderful how easily dogs which are always shot over by the same man—he being one who knows his business—will learn to cross and re-quarter their ground, turning to the slightest whistle, and following the least gesture of the hand. I have seen old dogs turn their heads to catch their master's eye, if they thought the whistle too long deferred; and I lately lost an old Irish setter, which had been stone deaf for his last two seasons, but which I found no more difficulty in turning than any other dog, so accurately did he know when to look for the signal."

162. To beat your groundsystematicallywith three dogs, you should strive to make them cross and recross you each on a different parallel, as just described for two dogs; but each dog must make a proportionally bolder sweep—turn—or,

163. If you have plenty of space, you can make one dog take a distinct beat to the right, another a separate beat to the left, and direct the third—which ought to be the dog least confirmed in his range—to traverse the central part,—and so be the only one that shall cross andrecross you. If one of your dogs is a slow potterer, and you prefer this method to the one named in162, give him the middle beat, and let his faster companions take the flanks. In our small English fields you have not space enough, but on our moors, and in many parts of the Continent, it cannot be want of room that will prevent your accomplishing it. To do this well, however, and not interfere with each other's ground, how magnificently must your dogs be broken! In directing their movements, the assistance that would be given you by each dog's acknowledging his own particular whistle, and no other—275—is very apparent.

164. It is difficult enough to make three dogs traverse across you on tolerably distinct parallels; and at a judicious distance between the parallels you will find it hopeless to attempt it with more than three; and one can hardly imagine a case in which it would be advantageous to uncouple a greater number of good rangers. If, however, the scarcity of game, and the extensiveness of your beat, or any peculiar fancy, induce you habitually to use four dogs, hunt one brace to the right, the other to the left; and, so far as you can, let those whichform a brace be of equal speed.[28]Your task will be facilitated by your always keeping the same brace to one flank—I mean, by making one brace constantly hunt to your right hand; the other brace to your left. The same reasoning holds with regard to assigning to eachdog a particular side when hunting three, according to the mode described in last paragraph. It should, however, be borne in mind, that constantly hunting a dog in this manner on one and the same flank, tends to make him range very disagreeably whenever employed single-handed.

165. If you hunt five dogs, four of them ought to work by braces to the right and left, and the fifth—the dog whose rate of speed most varies from the others—should have a narrow beat assigned him directly in advance of you.

166. If three brace are to be used, let the third brace hunt the central ground, as recommended for the fifth dog—or they could be worked in leashes, one on the right of the gun, the other on the left.

167. These are the correcttheoreticalrules, and the more closely you observe them, the more truly and killingly will your ground be hunted.

168. Probably you will think that such niceties are utterly impracticable. They must be impracticable if you look for mathematical precision; but if you hope to shoot over more than mere rabble, you should work uponsystem. If you do not, what can you expect but an unorganized mob?—an undrilled set, perpetually running over each other's ground,—now grouped in this part, now crowded in that,—a few likely spots being hunted by all (especially if they are old dogs), the rest of the field by none of them; and to control whose unprofitable wanderings, why not employ a regular huntsman anda well-mounted whip? Doubtless it would be absurd to hope for perfect accuracy in so difficult a matter as a systematic range in a brigade of dogs; but that you may approach correctness, take a true standard of excellence. If you do not keep perfection in view, you will never attain to more than mediocrity. I earnestly hope, however, that it cannot be your wish to take out a host of dogs—but should you have such a singular hobby, pray let them be regularly brigaded, and not employed as a pack. In my opinion, under no circumstances can more than relays of leashes be desirable; but I should be sorry in such matters to dispute any man's right to please himself; I only wish him, whatever he does, to strive to do it correctly.

169. Some men who shoot on a grand scale make their keepers hunt each a distinct brace of dogs,—the gun going up to whatever dog points. It is the most killing plan to adopt; but that is not the matter we were considering. The question was, what method a man ought to pursue who had a fancy to himself hunt many dogs at a time.

170. If a professional breaker could show you a brigade of dogs well trained to quarter their ground systematically, and should ask from fifty to sixty guineas[29]a brace for them, you ought not to be surprised. Whatan extent of country they could sweep over in an hour and not leave a bird behind! And consider what time and labor must have been spent in inculcating so noble a range. He would have been far better paid if he had received less than half the money as soon as they "pointed steadily," both at the living and the dead; "down charged;" "backed:" and were broken from "chasing hare," or noticing rabbits.

171. Some men fancy that the faster they walk, the more country they hunt. This is far from being always the case. Dogs travel at one rate, whether you walk fast or slow, and the distance between the parallels on which they work—being determined by the fineness of their noses, and the goodness of the scent—ought not to be affected by your pace. Suppose, therefore, that you shoot in an unenclosed country, whether you walk quickly, or merely crawl along, the only difference in the beat of your dogsoughtto be that, in the latter case, they range further to the right and the left. You thus make up in yourbreadthwhat you lose in yourlengthof beat.

172. Nor do the fastest dogs, however well they may be broken, always truly hunt the most ground. The slower dogs have frequently finer olfactory nerves than their fleeter rivals,—therefore the parallels on which the former work may correctly be much wider apart than the parallels of the latter. The finer nose in this manner commands so much more ground that it beats the quicker heels out and out.

173. You will see, then, how judicious it is to showforbearance and give encouragement to the timid, but high-bred class[30]of dogs described in114; for it is obvious that, though they may travel slower, yet they may really huntproperly, within a specified time, many more acres of ground than their hardier and faster competitors; and it is certain that they will not so much alarm the birds. Dogs that are most active with their heels are generally least busy with their noses.


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