The Dog Part 38

FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. a.s.sISTANT.

192. It is proper you should be warned that you must not always expect a dog will "toho" the first day as readily as I have described, though most will, and some--especially pointers--even more quickly, if they have been previously well-drilled, and have been bred for several generations from parents of pure blood.

I do not say bred in and in. Breeding in and in, to a certainty, would enfeeble their intellects as surely as their const.i.tutions. In this way has many a kennel been deprived of the energy and endurance so essential in a sportsman's dog.

193. As in the present instance, it often occurs that a dog is less inclined to dash in at first than when he is more acquainted with birds.

He is suddenly arrested by the novelty of the scent, and it is not until he is fully a.s.sured from what it proceeds that he longs to rush forward and give chase. In autumnal breaking the dog gets his bird--it is killed for him--he is satisfied--and therefore he has not the same temptation to rush in as when he is shown birds in the spring.

194. If you find your dog, from excess of delight and exuberance of spirits, less under general command than from his initiatory education you had expected, and that he will not "toho" steadily at the exact spot at which you order him, at once attach a checkcord to his collar. It will diminish his pace, and make him more cautious and obedient. The moment you next see him begin to feather, get up quickly, _but without running_, to the end of the cord, and check him with a sudden jerk, if you are satisfied that game is before him and that he ought to be pointing. If from his att.i.tude and manner you are _positive_ that there is game, drive a spike--or peg--into the ground, and tie the cord to it. I only hope the birds will remain stationary. If they do, you can give him a capital lesson by remaining patiently alongside of him and then heading him and the birds in the manner before described--178, 179.

195. As a general rule, an attendant or any companion cannot be recommended, because he would be likely to distract a young dog's attention; but an intelligent fellow who would readily obey your signals, and not presume to speak, would doubtless, with a very wild dog, be an advantageous subst.i.tute for the spike. You could then employ a longer and slighter cord than usual, and, on the man's getting hold of the end of it, be at once free to head and awe the dog. Whenever you had occasion to stand still, the man would, of course, be as immovable as yourself.

Your signals to him might be:--

The gun held up,--"Get near the dog."

Your fist clenched,--"Seize the rope."

Your fist shaken,--"Jerk the cord."

Your hand spread open,--"Let go the cord."

Or any signs you pleased, so that you understood each other without the necessity of speaking.

196. Should it ever be your misfortune to have to correct in a dog evil habits caused by past mismanagement, such an attendant, if an active, observant fellow, could give you valuable a.s.sistance, for he sometimes would be able to seize the cord immediately the dog began "feathering,"

and generally would have hold of it before you could have occasion to fire. But the fault most difficult to cure in an old dog is a bad habit of ranging. If, as a youngster, he has been permitted to beat as his fancy dictated, and _has not been instructed in looking to the gun for orders_, you will have great, very great difficulty in reclaiming him. Probably he will have adopted a habit of running for a considerable distance up wind, his experience having shown him that it is one way of finding birds, but not having taught him that to seek for them by crossing the wind would be a better method.

The great advantage of teaching a dog to point the instant he is sensible of the presence of birds--175--and of not creeping a foot further until he is directed by you, is particularly apparent when birds are wild. While he remains steady, the direction of his nose will lead you to give a tolerable guess as to their "whereabouts," and you and your companion can keep quite wide of the dog--one on each side,--and so approach the birds from both flanks. They, meanwhile, finding themselves thus intercepted in three directions, will probably lie so close as to afford a fair shot to at least one gun, for they will not fail to see the dog and be awed by his presence. Raise your feet well off the ground to avoid making a noise.

Walk quickly, but with no unnecessary flourish, of arms or gun.

197. You must not, however, too often try to work round and head your pupil when he is pointing. Judgment is required to know when to do it with advantage. If the birds were running, you would completely throw him out, and greatly puzzle and discourage him, for they probably would then rise out of shot, behind you if they were feeding up wind,--behind him if they were feeding down wind. Far more frequently make him work out the scent by his own sagacity and nose, and lead you up to the birds, every moment bristling more and more, at a pace entirely controlled and regulated by your signals. These being given with your right hand will be more apparent to him if you place yourself on his left side. It is in this manner that you give him a lesson which will _hereafter_ greatly aid him in recovering slightly winged birds,--in pressing to a rise the slow-winged, but nimble-heeled rail,--or in minutely following the devious mazes through which an old c.o.c.k pheasant, or yet more, an old c.o.c.k grouse, may endeavor to mislead him. And yet this lesson should not be given before he is tolerably confirmed at his point, lest he should push too fast on the scent; and make a rush more like the dash of a c.o.c.ker than the sober, convenient "road" of a setter. As his experience increases he will thus acquire the valuable knowledge of the position of his game--he will lead you to the centre of a covey, or what is of greater consequence--as grouse spread--to the centre of a pack,--instead of allowing himself to be attracted to a flank by some truant from the main body,--and thus get you a good double shot, and enable you effectually to separate the birds--he will, moreover, become watchful, and sensible of his distance from game--a knowledge all important, and which, be it remarked, he never could gain in turnips, or potatoes, or any thick cover.

198. There is another and yet stronger reason why you should not consider it a rule always to head your young dog at his point. You may--although at first it seems an odd caution to give--make him too stanch. This, to be sure, signifies less with partridges than with most birds; but if you have ever seen your dog come to a fixed point, and there, in spite of all your efforts, remain provokingly immovable--plainly telling you of the vicinity of birds, but that you must find them out for yourself--your admiration of his steadiness has, I think, by no means reconciled you to the embarra.s.sing position in which it has placed you. I have often witnessed this vexatious display of stanchness, although the owner cheered on the dog in a tone loud enough to alarm birds two fields off.

199. A keeper will sometimes praise his dog for such stanchness; but it is a great fault, induced probably by over-severity for former rashness,--and the more difficult to be cured, if the animal is a setter, from the crouching position he often naturally a.s.sumes when pointing.

200. I here desire to warn you against the too common error of fancying that a young dog is making false points if birds do not get up directly.

They may have taken leg-bail, and thus have puzzled him in his inexperience. Dogs not cowed by punishment will, after a little hunting, seldom make false points, while they are unfatigued. To a certainty they will not draw upon a false point for any distance: therefore, never punish what is solely occasioned by over-caution. Your doing so would but increase the evil. Self-confidence and experience are the only cures for a fault that would be a virtue if not carried to excess. Even a good dog will occasionally make a point at larks from over-caution when birds are wild; but see the first note to 144.

201. After you have shot over a dog a short time, his manner and att.i.tude will enable you to guess pretty accurately whether birds are really before him; whether they are far off or near; and whether or not they are on the move. Generally speaking, the higher he carries his head, and the less he stiffens his stern, the further off are the birds. If he begins to look nervous, and become fidgety, you will seldom be wrong in fancying they are on the run. But various, and at times most curious, are the methods that dogs will adopt, _apparently_ with the wish to show you where the birds are, and _certainly_ with the desire to get you a shot.

CHAPTER XI.

FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONCLUDED. BAR. LEG STRAP. SPIKE COLLAR.

202. After a few trials you will, I hope, be able to dispense with the peg recommended in 194, and soon after with the checkcord also. But if your dog possesses unusually high spirits, or if he travels over the ground at a pace which obviously precludes his making a proper use of his nose, it may be advisable to fasten to his collar a bar, something like a diminutive splinter-bar, that it may, by occasional knocking against his shins, feelingly admonish him to lessen his stride. If he gets it between his legs and thus finds it no annoyance, attach it to both sides of his collar from points near the extremities. One of his forelegs might occasionally be pa.s.sed through the collar; but this plan is not so good as the other; nor as the strap on the hind leg--56. These means--to be discarded, however, as soon as obedience is established--are far better than the _temporary_ ascendancy which some breakers establish by low diet and excessive work, which would only weaken his spirits and his bodily powers, without eradicating his self will, or improving his intellect. You want to force him, when he is in the highest health and vigor, to learn by experience the advantage of letting his nose dwell longer on a feeble scent.

203. I have made no mention of the spiked collar, because it is a brutal instrument, which none but the most ignorant or unthinking would employ.

It is a leather collar, into which nails, much longer than the thickness of the collar, have been driven, with their points projecting inwards. The French spike-collar is nearly as severe. It is formed of a series of wooden b.a.l.l.s,--larger than marbles,--linked--about two and a half inches apart--into a chain by stiff wires bent into the form of hooks. These sharp pointed hooks punish cruelly when the checkcord is jerked.

204. We have, however, a more modern description of collar, which is far less inhuman than either of those I have mentioned, but still I cannot recommend its adoption, unless in extreme cases; for though not so severely, it, likewise, punishes the unfortunate dog, more or less, by the strain of the checkcord he drags along the ground: and it ought to be the great object of a good breaker as little as is possible to fret or worry his pupil, that all his ideas may be engaged in an anxious wish to wind birds. On a leather strap, which has a ring at one end, four wooden b.a.l.l.s--of about two inches in diameter--are threaded like beads, at intervals from each other and the ring, say, of two inches--the exact distance being dependent on the size of the dog's throat. Into each of the b.a.l.l.s sundry short pieces of thickish wire are driven, leaving about one-sixth of an inch beyond the surface. The other end of the strap--to which the checkcord is attached--is pa.s.sed through the ring. This ring being of somewhat less diameter than the b.a.l.l.s, it is clear, however severely the breaker may pull, he cannot compress the dog's throat beyond a certain point. The effect of the short spikes is rather to crumple than penetrate the skin.

205. I have long been sensible of the aid a spiked collar would afford in reclaiming headstrong, badly educated dogs, if it could be used at the moment--and only at the precise moment when punishment was required,--but not until lately did it strike me how the collar could be carried so that the attached cord should not constantly bear upon it, and thereby worry, if not pain the dog. And had I again to deal with an old offender, who incorrigibly crept in after pointing, or obstinately "rushed into dead,"

I should feel much disposed to employ a slightly spiked collar in the following manner.

206. That the mere carrying the collar might not annoy the dog, I would extract or flatten the nails fixed on the top of the collar, on the part, I mean, that would lie on the animal's neck. This collar I would place on his neck, in front of his common light collar. I would then firmly fasten the checkcord, in the usual way, to the spiked collar; but, to prevent any annoyance from dragging the checkcord, at about five or six inches from the fastening just made I would attach it to the common collar, with very slight twine--twine so slight that, although it would not give way to the usual drag of the checkcord, however long, yet it would readily break on my having to pull strongly against the wilful rush of an obstinate dog, when, of course, the spikes would punish him, as the strain would then be borne by the spiked collar alone.

207. Guided by circ.u.mstances, I would afterwards either remove the spiked collar, or, if I conceived another bout necessary, refasten the checkcord to the common collar with some of the thin twine, leaving, as before, five or six inches of the checkcord loose between the two collars.

208. If you should ever consider yourself forced to employ a spiked collar, do not thoughtlessly imagine that the same collar will suit all dogs. The spikes for a thin coated pointer ought to be shorter than for a coa.r.s.e haired setter! You can easily construct one to punish with any degree of severity you please. Take a common leather collar; lay its inner surface flat on a soft deal board: through the leather drive with a hammer any number of tacks or flat-headed nails: then get a cobbler to sew on another strap of leather at the back of the nails, so as to retain them firmly in position.

209. I have supposed that your dog has _scented_ the birds before they rose, but if he springs them without having previously noticed them--as in some rare cases happens even to well-bred dogs--you _must_ bring him back to the spot at which you feel a.s.sured that he ought to have been sensible of their presence, and _there_ make him "Toho." Afterwards endeavor to make him aware of the haunt by encouraging him to sniff at the ground that the birds have just left. The next time watch very carefully for the _slightest_ indication of his feathering, and then instantly call out "Toho." After a few times he will, to a certainty, understand you.

210. You should kill outright the few first birds at which you fire. I would infinitely prefer that you should miss altogether than that one of the two or three first birds should be a runner. Afterwards you have full leave to merely wing a bird; but still I should wish it not to be too nimble. This is a good trial of _your_ judgment as well as the dog's. I hope he is to leeward of the bird, and that it will not catch his eye. See he touches on the haunt. Do not let him work with his nose to the ground.

"Up, up," must be your encouraging words,--or "On, on," according to circ.u.mstances,--whilst with your right hand--IV. of 119--you are alternately urging and restraining him, so as to make him advance at a suitable pace. From his previous education, not being flurried by any undue dread of the whip, he will be enabled to give his undisturbed attention, and devote all his faculties to follow unerringly the retreating bird. But from inexperience he may wander from the haunt. On perceiving this, bring him, by signals, back to the spot where he was apparently last aware of the scent. He will again hit it off. If you view the bird ever so far ahead, on no account run. I hope you will at length observe it lie down. Head it, if possible, and strike it with your whip, if you think you will be unable to seize it with your hand. Endeavor to prevent its fluttering away;--it is too soon to subject the youngster to such a severe trial of his nerves and steadiness. Then,--having put the poor creature out of its misery, by piercing its skull, or rapping its head against your gun, as before--180--show your dog the gratifying prize which your combined exertions have gained.

211. Should he unluckily have caught sight of the running bird, and, in spite of all your calls, have rushed forward and seized it, you ought to have proceeded as described in 221. Clearly, however, you would not have dragged the dog back to the place where he "down charged," but merely to the spot from which he had made his unlawful rush. If the bird had been very active, it would have been far better to have fired at it a second time--while it was running--than to have incurred the risk of making your dog unsteady by a wild pursuit. Suppose that it was not winged, but rose again on your approaching it, and fluttered off,--a hard trial for the young dog,--you must, however, have made him bear it, and obey your loud command to "drop,"--you would--or should--have taken another shot, and have proceeded in exactly the same manner as if this had been your first find--179, 180.

212. As the wounded bird was to windward of the dog, the course to follow was obvious,--it was plain sailing; but the case would have varied greatly if the dog had been to windward. Had you pursued the usual plan, he must have roaded the bird by the "foot;" and the danger is, that in allowing him to do so, you may create in him the evil habit of hunting with his nose close to the ground, which is, above all things, to be deprecated.

You have another mode--you can "lift" the dog--I suppose you know the meaning of that hunting term,--and make him take a large circuit, and so head the bird, and then proceed as if it had fallen to windward.

213. The latter plan would avoid all risk of your making him a potterer, and it is, I think, to be recommended, if you find him naturally inclined to hunt low. But the former method, as a lesson in "footing," must be often resorted to, that he may learn unhesitatingly to distinguish the "heel" from the "toe," and how to push an old c.o.c.k-grouse, or to flush a pheasant running through cover, or the red-legged, I was nearly saying, the everlasting-legged partridge;[35] and, indeed, generally, how to draw upon his birds, and with confidence lead you to a shot, when they are upon the move and running down wind.--See end of 98; and for further directions, and for "seeking dead" with two dogs, look at 296. The heavy Spanish pointer, from his plodding perseverance and great olfactory powers, was an excellent hand at retrieving a slightly injured bird on a broiling, bad scenting day.

214. When I advised you--180--to let the dog "have plenty of time to make out the bird," I spoke from personal experience, and from a vivid recollection of errors committed in my novitiate. A young hand is too apt to imagine that every bird which falls to his gun is killed outright, and lying dead on the spot where it fell. He will, therefore, often impatiently, and most injudiciously, call away the dog who, at a little distance, may have hit-off the trail of the winged bird, and be "footing"

it beautifully.

215. If in these lessons you should lose one or two wounded birds, though it might not be a matter of any moment to yourself personally, it would be extremely vexatious on the dog's account, because, in this early stage of his education, it would tend to discourage him. The feeling which you must anxiously foster in him is this, that after the word "find"[36] the search must never be relinquished, even though he be constrained to hunt from morning till night. And it is clear that to make an abiding, valuable impression, this lesson must be inculcated on the several first occasions with unremitting, untiring diligence.

216. Persevere, therefore, for an hour, rather than give up a wounded bird. Join in the search yourself. Even if you see where it lies, do not pick it up hastily. On the contrary, leave it, but mark well the spot.

Keep on the move. Hold your gun as if in expectation of a rise. Pretend to seek for the bird in every direction, even for a good half hour, if you can encourage your dog to hunt so long. If, indeed, you see him flag, and get wearied and dispirited, gradually bring him close, but to leeward of the spot where the bird lies, in order to make him "point dead" and be rewarded for all his diligence by finding it himself. Let him, also, have a good sniff at it and nose it--but let there be no biting or mouthing--before you put it into the bag. Otherwise, what return has he for the pains he has taken?

217. It is no conclusive argument against the practice of allowing him to "nose," that many first-rate dogs have never been so indulged. It is certain that they would not have been worse if they had; and many a dog, that would otherwise have been extremely slack, has been incited to hunt with eagerness from having been so rewarded. There are dogs who, from having been constantly denied all "touseling," will not even give themselves the trouble of searching for any bird which they have seen knocked over, much less think of pointing it. They seem satisfied with this ocular evidence of its death; for, odd to say, these very dogs will often zealously obey the order to hunt for any bird whose fall they have not noticed; but on winding it they will indulge in no more than a pa.s.sing sniff,--which sniff, unless you are watchful, you may not observe, and so lose your bird. Never fail, therefore, to let your pupil ruffle the feathers a little, while you bestow on him a caress or kind word of approbation. You then incite to perseverance, by, even with dogs, a very abiding motive,--"self-interest;" but mind the important rule, that his "nosing" be only _when_ the bird is in your possession, not _before_ it is in your possession. If you wish to establish for ever a confirmed perseverance in "seeking dead," you must sacrifice _hours_--I say it seriously--rather than give up any of the first wounded birds. Be persuaded that every half hour spent in an unremitting search for _one_ bird, if ultimately successful, will more benefit the young dog than your killing a _dozen_ to him, should you bag them the moment you are reloaded.

Of course you would not, when you are giving such a lesson in perseverance, fire at another bird, even if it sprang at your feet,--for your doing so, whether you missed or killed, would unsettle the young dog, and make him relinquish his search. Be stimulated to present exertion by the conviction, that if he be not _now_ well instructed, you must expect him to lose, season after season, nearly every bird only slightly disabled by a merely tipped wing.

218. I hope you will not say, as would most of our neighbors[37] on the other side of the Channel: "But if, instead of waiting to load, I had gone after the winged bird just as it fell, when first I saw it start off running, the evil you have now spoken of--215--could not have occurred, for there would have been but little risk of losing it." Probably not, but you would almost have ruined your dog; and to secure this one bird, in all likelihood you would subsequently lose a hundred.[38] How could you with justice blame him if, when next you killed, he rushed headlong after the bird--instead of dropping patiently to the "down charge"--and so sprung a dozen birds while you were unloaded?

219. Perhaps you will say, "You tell me to fire at a running bird, but when a winged c.o.c.k-pheasant or red-legged partridge is racing off _out of shot_, how am I to get it if I proceed in the slow, methodical manner you advise? May it not lead me an unsuccessful dance for an hour, if I do not allow the dog to shoot ahead and seize?" It may--but I hope months will pa.s.s before you witness such agility--and this shows that those who do not employ a retriever, and yet are sticklers for a setter's--or pointer's--never being permitted to touch a feather, must on such occasions get into a dilemma; and, unless they are willing to lose the bird, must plead guilty to the inconsistency of being pleased--however loudly they may roar out "Toho," "ware dead,"--when they see their dog, in defiance of all such calls, disable it by a sudden grip. This plan, though frequently followed, cannot be correct. They blame the dog for doing what they really wish! and if he be too tender-mouthed to injure the bird, he keeps them at top speed, while he is alternately picking up the unfortunate creature--acting on his natural impulses--and letting it fall, on being rated. I therefore repeat, that even if you do not wish your dog constantly to retrieve--292--you would still act judiciously in teaching him as a puppy to fetch--86--for then he will give chase to the winged bird, and bring it to you _on getting the order_, instead of permitting it to escape for a fresh _burst_, or carrying it off, as I have seen done.

You thus maintain discipline. The dog will do what you wish, in obedience to orders,--not in opposition to orders. The sticklers for dogs never being allowed to nose a feather ought, unless they are quite willing to give up slightly-winged birds, not to shrink from the difficult task of teaching their pupils to stop and retain with their paws.

220. We have only spoken of instances 180, 210, 212, in which all has gone on smoothly, the dog most obediently dropping to shot and permitting _you_ to take up the bird notwithstanding the poor creature's death-struggles.

Suppose, however, and this may probably happen, that he does not restrain himself at the "down charge," but, in spite of all your calls and signals, rushes forward, yet yields to your menaces and halts in mid-career. It is well--your course is clear; you have to lug him back and threaten and lecture him. But should he not check himself until he sniffs the game, his stop then becomes a "point;" and if he is of a timid disposition, or has ever evinced any disposition to blink, you dare not force him to retrace his steps lest he should mistake your motives, and fancy himself encouraged to abandon his point. If you merely make him "down charge," you violate the axiom named in 255. In short you are in a difficulty. It is a nice case, in which your own judgment of the dog's character can alone decide you.

221. But, if from inadequate initiatory instruction--for I will maintain that such marked rebellion can arise from no other cause--in the excitement of the moment he actually rushes in and seizes the bird, he must be punished, I am sorry to say it; but however much we may deplore it, _he must_; for he has been guilty of great disobedience, and he well knows that he has been disobedient. But the temptation was strong, perhaps too strong, for canine nature--that is to say, for canine nature not early taught obedience. The wounded bird was fluttering within sight and hearing--it was, too, the first he had ever seen,--and this is almost his first glaring act of disobedience; be therefore merciful, though firm.

Make him "drop." Get up to him at once. Probably he will relinquish his grip of the bird; if not, make him give it up to you, but do not pull it from him: that would only increase the temptation to tear it. Lay it on the ground. Then drag him back to the spot from which he rushed; there make him lie down. Rate him. Call out "Toho."[39] Crack the whip over him--and, I am pained to add, make use of it--but moderately, not severely. Three or four cuts will be enough, provided he has not torn the bird; if he has, his chastis.e.m.e.nt must be greater. Let him now have one nibble without punishment, and soon a whole carcase will not suffice for his morning's meal. Do not strike him across the body, but lengthwise.

222. An ill-tempered dog might attempt to bite you. Prevent the possibility of his succeeding, by grasping and twisting his collar with your left hand, still keeping him at the "down." Consider coolly whether you are flagellating a thick-coated dog, or one with a skin not much coa.r.s.er than your own. Pause between each cut; and, that he may comprehend why he is punished, call out several times, but not loudly, "Toho--bad--toho," and crack your whip. Let your last strokes be milder and milder, until they fall in the gentlest manner--a manner more calculated to awaken reflection than give pain. When the chastis.e.m.e.nt is over stand close in front of him, the better to awe him, and prevent his thinking of bolting. Put the whip quietly in your pocket, but still remain where you are, occasionally rating and scolding him while you are loading; gradually, however, becoming milder in manner that he may be sensible that though your dissatisfaction at his conduct continues, his punishment is over--241 to 242. Indeed, if you have any fear of his becoming too timid, you may at length fondle him a little, provided that while you so re-encourage him, you continue to say "Toho--toho," most impressively--then, giving him the wind, go up together to the bird and make him "point dead" close to it. Take it up, and let him fumble the feathers before you loop it on the bag.