The Dog Part 35

113. Common sense shows that you ought not to correct your dog for disobedience, unless you are certain that he knows his fault. Now you will see that the initiatory lessons I recommend must give him that knowledge, for they explain to him the meaning of almost all the signs and words of command you will have to employ when shooting. That knowledge, too, is imparted by a system of rewards, not punishments. Your object is not to break his spirit, but his self-will. With his obedience you gain his affection. The greatest hardship admissible, in this early stage of his education, is a strong jerk of the checkcord, and a sound rating, given, _when necessary_, in the loudest tone and sternest manner; and it is singular how soon he will discriminate between the reproving term "bad"--to which he will sensitively attach a feeling of shame--and the encouraging word "good"--expressions that will hereafter have a powerful influence over him, especially if he be of a gentle, timid disposition.

114. In educating such a dog--and there are many of the kind, likely to turn out well, if they are judiciously managed, often possessing noses so exquisite--perhaps I ought to say cautious--as nearly to make up for their general want of const.i.tution and powers of endurance--it is satisfactory to think that all these lessons can be inculcated without in the slightest degree depressing his spirit. On the contrary, increasing observation and intelligence will gradually banish his shyness and distrust of his own powers; for he will be sensible that he is becoming more and more capable of comprehending your wishes, and therefore less likely to err and be punished (245).

115. I fear you may imagine that I am attributing too much reasoning power to him. You would not think so if you had broken in two or three dogs.

What makes dog-teaching, if not very attractive, at least not laborious, is the fact that the more you impart to a dog, the more readily will he gain further knowledge. After teaching a poodle or a terrier a few tricks, you will be surprised to see with what increasing facility he will acquire each successive accomplishment. It is this circ.u.mstance which, I think, should induce you not to regard as chimerical the perfection of which I purpose to speak by-and-by, under the head of "refinements in breaking." Indeed I only adopt this distinction in deference to what I cannot but consider popular prejudice; for I well know many will regard such accomplishments as altogether superfluous. It is sad to think that an art which might easily be made much more perfect, is allowed, almost by universal suffrance, to stop short just at the point where excellence is within grasp.

116. Far more dogs would be _well-broken_, if men would but keep half the number they usually possess. _The owner of many dogs cannot shoot often enough over them, to give them great experience._

117. I am, however, wandering from our immediate subject. Let us return to the lecture, and consider how much knowledge your pupil will have acquired by these preliminary instructions. We shall find that, with the exception of a systematically confirmed range, really little remains to be learned, save what his almost unaided instinct will tell him.

118. For it is wonderful how much you can effect by initiatory instruction: indeed, afterwards, you will have little else to do than teach and confirm your dog in a judicious range--his own sagacity and increasing experience will be his princ.i.p.al guides--for consider how much you will have taught him.

119. He will know--

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 hears _one_ low 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 (19 to 21).

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 also 67).

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 accompany with 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 field until your young dog has gained some experience (41).

XV. That "Ware"--p.r.o.nounced "War"--is a general order to desist from whatever he may be doing. "No" is perhaps a better word; it can be p.r.o.nounced 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 of 104).

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 but _one_ word. 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 n.o.bler 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 const.i.tution, 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 for _regular_ use until fully a year old.

CHAPTER VI.

FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN COMMENCED. RANGING.

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 a breaker, 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 n.o.bler 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 a.s.sumed 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,--unless from 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 a.s.sume 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 in 111, 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 to find 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] You want 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, _parallel_ to 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 you wish--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 pa.s.ses. When he gets near the edge to the left, 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, but _much_ will 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 movements accordingly. 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, _you_ might spring birds you are anxious _he_ should 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 s.p.a.ce between them. Do not allow the alluring t.i.tle "a fine wide ranger" to tempt you to let him out of leading strings. If he be once 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. Do _you_ keep entire control over his beats; let _him_ have 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 pa.s.sed by unnoticed.

I should not like to name the distance within which good _cautious_ dogs that carry their heads high will wind game on a favorable day.

136. If you design your pupil, when broken in, to hunt 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 s.p.a.ce between the parallels--wider than if you had intended him to hunt without any one to share his labors.