The Dog Part 40

even the grouse-dog will take far too quickly to hedge hunting; and pottering when on the stubbles. It is, of course, presumed that he is broken from "chasing hare"--a task his trainer must have found difficult--though none are ever shot to him--from the few that, _comparatively_ speaking, his pupil could have seen. Independently, however, of want of pace and practice in roading, it never would be fair to take a dog direct from the Lowlands to contend on the Highlands with one habituated to the latter,--and _vice versa_, for the stranger would always be placed to great disadvantage. A _faint_ scent of game which the other would instantly recognise, he would not acknowledge from being wholly unaccustomed to it. Sometimes, however, a grouse dog of a ticklish temper will not bear being constantly called to on "breaking fence." A fine, free-ranging pointer, belonging to one of the brothers Hy, when brought to an enclosed country, became quite subdued and dispirited. He could not stand the rating he received for bounding over the hedges, and he evidently derived no enjoyment from the sport, though there were plenty of birds. On returning to the Highlands, he quite recovered his animation and perseverance. He added another to the many evidences that dogs are most attached to, and _at home_ on, the kind of country they first hunted.

This note is applicable to the pointer, used to the pinnated grouse on the Prairies, when brought into close shooting on quail, &c. H.W.H.

[43] This appears extremely cruel; remember, however, that I entreated you to abstain entirely from shooting hares; but if you would not make this sacrifice, at least "only to fire at those which you were likely to kill outright"--231.

CHAPTER XIII.

HINTS TO PURCHASERS. SHEEP KILLING.

256. When your dog has been properly taught the "back," fail not to recommence hunting him alone, if it is your object to establish a perfect range.

257. Professional dog-breakers, I have remarked, almost invariably hunt too many dogs together. This arises, I suppose, from the number which they have to train; but the consequence is, that the younger dogs are spectators rather than actors, and, instead of ranging independently in search of game, are watching the manoeuvres of their older a.s.sociates.

258. A glimmering of knowledge may be picked up in this way; but no one will argue that it is likely to create great excellence. Doubtless the young ones will be good backers; and to the inexperienced a troop of perhaps a dozen dogs, all in chiselled form, stanchly backing an old leader, is a most imposing sight--but if the observer were to accompany the whole party for a few hours, he would remark, I will bet any money, that the same veterans would over and over again find the birds, and that the _"perfectly"_ broken young ones in the rear would do nothing but "back" and "down charge." What can they know of judicious quartering? Of obeying the signals of the hand? Of gradually drawing upon the faintest token of a scent--only perceptible to a nose carried high in the air--until they arrive at a confident point? Of perseveringly working out the foil of a slightly-winged bird, on a hot still day, to a sure "find?"

Nothing, or next to nothing,--nearly all is to be taught; and yet the breaker will show off those raw recruits as perfectly drilled soldiers.

Would they not have had a much better chance of really being so, if he had given a small portion of his time each day to each? He well knows they would; but the theatrical display would not be half so magnificent. If he had truly wished to give his pupils a good systematic range, without a doubt he would have devoted one hour in the field exclusively to each dog, rather than many hours to several at once--and not have a.s.sociated any together in the field until he had gained full command over each separately. And this he would have done--_because it would have tended to his interest_,--had he supposed that his dog's qualifications would be investigated by judges--by those who would insist on seeing a dog hunted singly--in order to observe his method of ranging,--or with but one companion, before they thought of definitively purchasing.

259. At the beginning of a partridge season, I unexpectedly wanted to purchase a dog. An old gamekeeper--one on whose judgment I could rely, and who, I knew, would not willingly deceive me,--saw a setter in the field that he thought would please, and accordingly sent it to my kennel. I greatly liked the looks of the animal. He quartered his ground well--was obedient to the hand--carried a high and apparently tender nose--pointed, backed, and down-charged steadily. Unquestionably he had been well broken.

I thought myself in great luck, and should not have hesitated to complete the purchase, but that fortunately I had an opportunity of shooting a bird over him, when to my horror he rushed at it with the speed of a greyhound.

As, in spite of all my remonstrances, shouted in the most determined manner, he repeated this manoeuvre whenever a bird fell, I returned him. I afterwards heard he had just been shot over by a party on the moors, who, no doubt, had spoilt him by their ign.o.ble, pot-hunting propensities.

260. Had I chosen to sacrifice my shooting in order to reclaim him--which I must have done, had I too hastily concluded the purchase,--I ought to have sent home the other dogs, and proceeded, but with greater severity, much in the manner described in 220 and 222. I ought not, however, to have gone after him when first he bolted; I ought merely to have endeavored to check him with my voice, for it would have been most important to set him a good example by remaining immovable myself, and he might have misconstrued any hasty advance on my part into rivalship for possession of the bird; in short, into a repet.i.tion of one of the many scrambles to which he had recently been accustomed, and in which I feel sure he must invariably have come off victorious. I ought, when loaded, to have walked calmly up to him, and, without taking the slightest notice of the disfigured bird, have dragged him back, while loudly rating him, to the spot where he should have "down charged." After a good flagellation--a protracted lecture--and a long delay,--the longer the better,--I ought to have made him cautiously approach the bird; and by a little scolding, and by showing him the wounds he had inflicted, have striven to make him sensible and ashamed of his enormities. Probably, too, had the birds lain well, the moment he pointed I should have employed the checkcord[44] with a spike, giving him a liberal allowance of slack line--234. Had I thus treated him throughout the day, I have little doubt but that he would have become a reformed character; though an occasional outbreak might not unreasonably have been expected. See 205 to 208.

261. To create a feeling of self-dependence, obviously there is no better plan than for a considerable time to take out the dog by himself, and thus force him to trust for sport to his own unaided powers; and when he is at length hunted in company, never to omit paying him the compliment of attending to every indication he evinces of being upon birds, even occasionally to the unfair neglect of confirmed points made by the other dogs.

262. I conceive those dogs must be considered the _best_ which procure a persevering sportsman most shots in a season and lose him fewest winged birds.[45] If you are anxious for your pupil to attain this superlative excellence,--I will repeat it, at the risk of being accused of tautology,--you must be at all times consistently strict but never severe.

Make him as much as you can, your constant companion; you will thereby much develope his intelligence, and so render him a more efficient a.s.sistant in the field, for he will understand your manner better and better, and greatly increase in affection as well as observation. Many men would like so faithful an attendant. _Teach_ obedience at home--to _obtain_ it in the field. Consider the instantaneous "drop," the moment he gets the signal, as all-important,--as the very key-stone of the arch that conducts to the glorious triumphs of due subordination. Notice every fault, and check it by rating, but never punish with the whip unless you judge it absolutely necessary. On the other hand, following Astley's plan--10--reward, or at least praise, every instance of good behavior, and you will be surprised how quickly your young dog will comprehend your wishes, and how anxious he will be to comply with them. Remember that evil practices, unchecked until they become confirmed habits, or any errors in training committed at the commencement of his education, cannot be repaired afterwards without tenfold--nay, twentyfold--trouble. Never let him hunt from under your eye. Unceasingly endeavor to keep alive in him as long as possible his belief that you are intuitively aware as fully when he is out of sight as within sight of every fault he commits, whether it arise from wilfulness or mere heedlessness. This is a very important admonition. Remember, however, that the best dogs will occasionally make mistakes when they are running down wind--especially if it blows hard,--and that there are days when there is scarcely any scent.--Note to 128.

263. Attend most carefully to the injunction not to let your dog hunt out of sight. It is essential that you do so.

264. Notwithstanding Beckford's capital story of the hounds making a dinner of the old ram which his lordship had left in their kennel to intimidate them, if your dog be unhappily too fond of mutton or lamb of his own killing, perhaps no better cure can be _attempted_, provided you superintend the operation, than that of muzzling him, and letting a strong ram give him a b.u.t.ting at the time that you are administering the lash, and hallooing out "Ware" or "Sheep." But, unfortunately, this too often fails.

265. If you do not succeed, you must hang or drown him,--the latter is probably the less painful death, but a charge of shot well lodged behind the ear in the direction of the brain would be yet better. Therefore you will not mind giving him another chance for his life, though confessedly the measure proposed is most barbarous. Procure an ash-pole about five feet long. Tie one extremity of the pole to a strong ram, by the part of the horns near the forehead. To the opposite extremity of the pole attach a strong spiked collar, and strap it round the dog's throat, to the audible tune of "Ware" or "Sheep." To prevent the possibility of the cord slipping, through each end of the pole burn a hole. The continued efforts of the ram for some hours either to free himself from his strange companion, or to attack him, will possibly so worry and punish the dog as to give him a distaste ever afterwards for anything of a woolly nature.

The pole will so effectually separate these unwilling--but still too intimate--a.s.sociates, that you need not muzzle the dog.

266. There is yet another remedy, which I will name, as it sounds reasonable, though I cannot speak of its merits from personal observation, never having seen it tried.

267. Wrap a narrow strip of sheep-skin, that has much wool on it, round the dog's lower jaw, the wool outwards, and fasten it so that he cannot get rid of it. Put this on him for a few hours daily and there is a chance that he will become as thoroughly disgusted as even you could wish, with every animal of the race whose coat furnished such odious mouthfuls; but prevention being better than cure, pay great attention to your dog's morals during the lambing season. Dogs not led away by evil companionship rarely commence their depredations upon sober full-grown sheep. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred,[46] they have previously yielded to the great temptation of running down some frisking lamb, whose animated gambols seemed to court pursuit.

268. If ever you have fears that you may be unable to prevent a dog's breaking away to worry sheep, hunt him in a muzzle of a size that will not interfere with his breathing, and yet effectually prevent the wide extension of his jaws.

269. The killing of fowls is more easily prevented. The temptation, though equally frequent, is not so great--he will only have tasted blood, not revelled in it. Take a dead fowl--one of his recent victims, if you can procure it--and endeavor, by pointing to it, while you are scolding him, to make him aware of the cause of your displeasure. Then secure him to a post, and thrash him about the head with the bird, occasionally favoring his hide with sundry applications of a whip, and his ears with frequent repet.i.tions of the scaring admonition, "Ware fowl," "Fowl--fowl--fowl."

Whenever you afterwards catch him watching poultry, be sure to rate him.

FOOTNOTES:

[44] I am glad to say I have never had occasion to adopt so severe a remedy as the following; but I have heard of an otherwise incorrigible taste for blood being cured by a partridge pierced transversely with two knitting-pins being _adroitly_ subst.i.tuted for the fallen bird which the dog had been restrained by a checkcord from bolting. The pins were cut to a length somewhat less than the diameter of its body, and were fixed at right angles to one another. Several slight wires would, I think, have answered better.

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

[46] In the remaining odd case--one out of a hundred--the propensity may be traced to the animal's belonging to a vicious stock--in short, to hereditary instinct.

CHAPTER XIV.

DISTINGUISHING WHISTLES. "BACKING" THE GUN. RETREAT FROM AND RESUMPTION OF POINT. RANGE UNACCOMPANIED BY GUN. HEADING RUNNING BIRDS.

A DISTINGUISHING WHISTLE FOR EACH DOG.

271. Though you may have only begun to shoot last season, have you not often wished to attract the attention of one of your two dogs, and make him hunt in a particular part of the field, but for fear of alarming the birds, have been unwilling to call out his name, and have felt loath to whistle to him, lest you should bring away at the same time the other dog, who was zealously hunting exactly where you considered him most likely to find birds?

272. Again: have the dogs never been hunting close together instead of pursuing distinct beats; and has it not constantly happened, on your whistling with the view to separate them, that _both_ have turned their heads in obedience to the whistle, and _both_ on your signal changed the direction of their beat, but still the _two together_? And have you not, in despair of ever parting them by merely whistling and signalling, given the lucky birds--apparently in the most handsome manner, as if scorning to take any ungenerous advantage--fair notice of the approach of the guns by shouting out the name of one of the dogs.

273. Or, if one dog was attentive to the whistle, did he not gradually learn to disregard it from observing that his companion was never chidden for neglecting to obey it?--and did not such laxity more and more confirm both in habits of disobedience?

274. I believe several of my readers will be constrained to answer these questions in the affirmative; and, further, I think their own experience will remind them of many occasions, both on moor and stubble when birds were wild, on which they have wished to attract the notice of a particular dog--perhaps running along a hedge, or pottering over a recent haunt; or hunting down wind towards marked game--by _whistling_ instead of calling out his name, but have been unwilling to do so, lest the other dogs should likewise obey the shrill sound to which all were equally accustomed.

275. Now, in breaking young dogs, you could, by using whistles of dissimilar calls, easily avoid the liability of these evils; and by invariably employing a particular whistle for each dog to summon him separately to his food--29--each would distinguish his own whistle as surely as every dog knows his own master's whistle, and as hounds learn their names. Dogs not only know their own names, but instantly know by the p.r.o.nunciation when it is uttered by a stranger. To prevent mistakes, each dog's name might be marked on his own whistle. You might have two whistles, of very different sound, on one short stock. Indeed, _one_ whistle would be sufficient for two dogs, if you invariably sounded the same two or three sharp short notes for one dog, and as invariably gave a sustained note for the other. Nay, the calls could thus be so diversified, that one whistle might be used for even more than two dogs.

But whatever whistle you choose to employ, be sure, both in and out of the field, to sound it softly whenever the dog is near you. Indeed, you would act judiciously to make it a constant rule, wherever he may be, _never to whistle louder than is really requisite_, otherwise--as I think I before remarked--he will, comparatively speaking, pay little attention to its summons, when, being at a distance, he hears it but faintly.

TO BACK THE GUN.

276. In shooting, especially late in the season, you will often mark down a bird, and feel a.s.sured that you stand a better chance of getting a shot at it if the dogs cease hunting whilst you approach it. You can teach your dog to do this by holding up your right hand _behind_ you when you mark down a bird, saying at the same time, "Toho," in an earnest, quiet voice, and carrying your gun as if you were prepared to shoot. He will soon begin, I really must say it to _back you_,--for he actually will be backing you, ludicrous as the expression may sound. After a few times he will do so on the signal, without your speaking at all; and he will be as pleased, as excited, and as stanch, as if he were backing an old dog.

Making him "drop" will not effect your object, for, besides that it in no way increases his intelligence, you may wish him to follow at a respectful distance, while you are stealing along the banks of some stream, &c. Ere long he will become as sensible as yourself that any noise would alarm the birds, and you will soon see him picking his steps to avoid the crisp leaves, lest their rustling should betray him. I have even heard of a dog whose admirable caution occasionally led him, when satisfied that his point was observed, to crawl behind a bush, or some other shelter, to screen himself from the notice of the birds.

277. The acquisition of this accomplishment--and it is easily taught to a young dog previously made steady in backing another--it should not be attempted before--will often secure you a duck, or other wary bird, which the dog would otherwise, almost to a certainty, spring out of gun-shot. If you should "toho" a hare, and wish to kill one, you will have an excellent opportunity of practising this lesson.

278. In America there is a singular duck, called, from its often alighting on trees, the Wood-duck. I have killed some of these beautiful, fast-flying birds, while they were seated on logs overhanging the water, which I could not have approached within gun-shot had the dog not properly backed the gun when signalled to, and cautiously crept after me, still remaining far in the rear.

TO RETREAT FROM A POINT AND RESUME IT.

279. Amidst coppices, osiers, or broom--indeed, some times on a rough moor--you will occasionally lose sight of a dog, and yet be unwilling to call him, feeling a.s.sured that he is somewhere steadily pointing; and being vexatiously certain that, when he hears your whistle, he will either leave his point, not subsequently to resume it, or--which is far more probable--amuse himself by raising the game before he joins you. There are moments when you would give guineas if he would retreat from his point, come to you on your whistling, lead you towards the bird, and there resume his point.