The Dog

177. Many carelessly-taught dogs will, on first recognising a scent, make a momentary point, and then slowly crawl on until they get within a few yards of the game – if it be sufficiently complaisant to allow of such a near approach – and there "set" as steady as a rock by the hour together. Supposing, however, that the birds are in an unfriendly, distant mood, and not willing to remain on these neighborly terms, "your game is up," both literally and metaphorically, – you have no chance of getting a shot. This is a common fault among dogs hastily broken in the spring.

178. But to resume our supposed lesson. You must not be in a hurry – keep your dog for some time – for a long time, where he should have pointed. You may even sit down alongside him. Be patient; you have not come out so much to shoot, as to break in your dog. When at length you give him the wave of the hand to hie him on to hunt, you must not part as enemies, though I do not say he is to be caressed. He has committed a fault, and he is to be made sensible of it by your altered manner.

Suppose that, after two or three such errors, all treated in the way described, he makes a satisfactory point. Hold up your right hand, and the moment you catch his eye, remain quite stationary, still keeping your arm up. Dogs, as has been already observed, are very imitative; and your standing stock still will, more than anything else, induce him to be patient and immovable at his point. After a time – say five minutes, if, from the hour of the day and the dog's manner, you are convinced that the birds are not stirring – endeavor to get up to him so quietly as not to excite him to move. Whenever you observe him inclined to advance, – of which his lifting a foot or even raising a shoulder, or the agitation of his stern will be an indication, – stop for some seconds, and when by your raised hand you have awed him into steadiness, again creep on. Make your approaches within his sight, so that he may be intimidated by your eye and hand. If you succeed in getting near him without unsettling him, actually stay by him, as firm as a statue, for a quarter of an hour by one of Barwise's best chronometers. Let your manner, which he will observe, show great earnestness. Never mind the loss of time. You are giving the dog a famous lesson, and the birds are kindly aiding you by lying beautifully and not shifting their ground.

179. Now attempt a grand coup, in which if you are successful, you may almost consider your dog made staunch for ever. Keeping your eye on him, and your hand up – of course the right one – make a circuit, so that the birds shall be between him and you. Be certain that your circle is sufficiently wide – if it is not, the birds may get up behind you, and so perplex him that at his next find he will feel doubtful how to act. Fire at no skirter, or chance shot. Reserve yourself for the bird or birds at which he points; a caution more necessary on the moors than on the stubbles, as grouse spread while feeding. When you have well headed him, walk towards him and spring the birds. Use straight shooting-powder. Take a cool aim well forward, and knock down one. Do not flurry the dog by firing more than a single barrel, or confuse him by killing more than one bird. If you have been able to accomplish all this without his stirring – though, to effect it, you may have been obliged to use your voice – you have every right to hope, from his previous education, that he will readily "down-charge" on hearing the report of your gun. Do not hurry your loading: – indeed, be unnecessarily long, with the view of making him at all such times patient and steady. If, in spite of all your calls and signals, he ever gives chase to the sprung birds, make him "drop," – instantly if possible – and proceed much as described in 174, dragging him back to the place where he should have "down-charged."

180. When you have loaded, say "Dead,"31 in a low voice, and signalling to "heel" make him come up to you, yourself keeping still. By signs – XI. of 119– place him as near as you can, but to leeward of the dead bird. Then, and not till then, say, "Find;" give him no other assistance. Let him have plenty of time to make out the bird. It is not to be find and grip, but find and point,32 therefore the moment you perceive he is aware that it is before him, make him – by word of command – "toho: " – go up to him, stay for a while alongside him, then make a small circuit to head him, and have the bird between you and him; approach him. If he attempt to dash in, thunder out "No," and greet him with at least the sound of the whip: slowly pick up the dead bird; call the dog to you; show him the bird; but on no account throw it to him, lest he snatch at it; lay it on the ground, encourage him to sniff it; let him – for reason why see 216– turn it over with his nose – teeth closed – say to him, "Dead, dead;" caress him; sit down; smoothe the feathers of the bird; let him perceive that you attach much value to it; and after a while loop it on the game bag, allowing him all the time to see what you are doing. After that, make much of him for full five minutes: indeed with some dogs it would be advisable to give a palatable reward, but be not invariably very prodigal of these allurements; you may have a pupil whose attention they might engross more than they ought. Then walk about a little time with him at your heels. All this delay and caressing will serve to show him that the first tragedy is concluded, and has been satisfactorily performed. You may now hie him on to hunt for more birds.

181. Pray mind what is said about making your youngster point the dead bird staunchly, the moment you perceive that he first scents it. Should he be allowed to approach so near as to be able to touch it – instead of being made to point the instant he finds, – the chances are, that if hard-mouthed he will give it a crunch, if tender-mouthed a fumbling of the feathers; and either proceeding satisfying him, that he will quit it, and not further aid you in a search. As "pointing" is only a natural pause – prolonged by art – to determine exactly where the game is lying, preparatory to rushing forward to seize, it would be unreasonable to expect him willingly to make a second point at game he has not only found but mouthed – the evil, however, does not rest here. There is such a disagreeable thing as blinking a dead bird, no less than blinking a sound one. For mouthing the bird you may possibly beat the dog, or for nosing it and not pointing you may rate him harshly, either of which, if he be not of a bold disposition, may lead, on the next occasion, to his slinking off after merely obtaining a sniff. You ought, in fact, to watch as carefully for your pupil's first "feathering" upon the dead bird, as you did —174– upon his first coming upon the covey. You see, then, that your teaching him to "point dead" is absolutely indispensable; unless, indeed, you constantly shoot with a retriever. Pointing at a live bird or at a dead one should only differ in this, that in the latter case the dog makes a nearer point. Begin correctly, and you will not have any difficulty; but you may expect the greatest if you let your dog go up to one or two birds and mouthe them, before you commence making him point them. The following season, should you then permit him to lift his game, it will be time enough to dispense with his "pointing dead." I dwell upon this subject because many excellent dogs, from not having been properly taught to "point dead," often fail in securing the produce of a successful shot, while, on the contrary, with judiciously educated dogs it rarely happens that any of the slain or wounded are left on the field. Moreover, the protracted search and failure – as an instance see 217– occasions a lamentable loss of time. Were a sportsman who shoots over dogs not well broken to "point dead" – or retrieve – to calculate accurately, watch in hand, he would, I think, be surprised to find how many of his best shooting hours are wasted in unprofitable searching for birds of the certainty of whose untimely fate his dogs had probably long before fully convinced themselves.

182. As to the word "Dead," whether you choose to continue using it immediately after loading, or, as I have recommended – XI. of 119—after a time omit it, and merely let the signal to "heel" intimate that you have killed, always make your dog go to you before you allow him to seek for the fallen bird.

183. Some may say, "As a dog generally sees a bird fall, what is the use of calling him to you before you let him seek? – and even if he does not see the bird, why should any time be lost? Why should not you and he go as direct to it as you can?"

184. Provided you have no wish that the "finder" – see 295– rather than any of his companions, should be allowed the privilege of "seeking dead," I must admit that in the cultivated lands of England, when a dog "sees a bird fall," he might in nine cases out of ten go direct to it without inconvenience. Even here, however, there are occasions when intervening obstacles may prevent you observing what the dog is about; and in cover, so far from being able to give him any assistance by signalling, you may be ignorant whether or not he has seen the bird knocked over, or is even aware of the general direction in which he ought to seek. But in the oft-occurring cases in which "he does not see the bird fall," it is obvious – particularly when he happens to be at the extremity of his beat, – that you will far more quickly place him where you wish, if you make him, at first, run up to you, and then advance from you, straight to the bird, by your forward signal – 190. These good results at least will follow, if you remain stationary, and make him join you. You do not lose sight of the spot where you marked that the bird or birds fell. The foil is not interfered with by your walking over the ground – a matter of much importance, especially on bad-scenting days. The dog, if habituated to "seek" without your companionship, will readily hunt morasses and ravines, where you might find it difficult to accompany him. He will feel the less free to follow his own vagaries; and this consciousness of subjection will dispose him to pay more watchful attention to your signals. He will the more patiently wait at the "down charge;" and when you are reloaded will not be so tempted to dash recklessly after the bird, regardless whether or not he raises others on the way. If he is dragging a cord, you can the more easily take hold of its end, in order to check him, and make him point when he first winds the dead bird – and, should you be shooting over several dogs, by none of them being permitted to run direct to the fallen bird they will the less unwillingly allow you to select the one who is to approach close to you before "seeking dead."

185. The opponents of this method argue, that the practice may give the dog the bad habit of running immediately after the "down charge" to the gun, instead of recommencing to hunt; particularly if he is shot over by a first-rate performer. Granted; but is not the temptation to bolt off in search of a dead bird still stronger? To check the former evil, endeavor to make the coming to "heel" an act of obedience rather than a voluntary act, by never failing, as soon as you are re-loaded, to give the customary signal – VIII. of 119– when you have killed, or the signal to "hie on" should you have missed.

186. Moreover, you will sometimes meet with a dog who, when a bird has been fired at, though it be the first and only one sprung of a large covey, commences "seeking dead" immediately after the "down charge," apparently considering that his first duty. This sad, sad fault – for it frequently leads to his raising the other birds out of shot – is generally attributable to the dog's having been allowed to rush at the fallen bird, instead of being accustomed to the restraint of having first to run up to the gun.

187. To prevent your pupil ever behaving so badly, often adopt the plan of not "seeking dead" immediately after loading, especially if the birds are lying well. Mark accurately the spot where your victim lies, and closely hunt for others, endeavoring to instil great caution into the dog, much in the manner – being guided by his disposition and character – described in 144, 145, and 228. As long as any of the covey remain unsprung, you ought not to pick up one dead bird, though you should have a dozen on the ground. Your dog ought not even to "down charge" after you have fired, if he is fully aware that more birds are before him. To impart to him the knowledge that, however important is the "down charge," his continuing at his point is still more so, you may, when the birds are lying well and he is at a fixed point, make your attendant discharge a gun at a little distance while you remain near the dog, encouraging him to maintain his "toho." If you have no attendant, and the birds lie like stones, fire off a barrel yourself while the dog is steadily pointing. He will fancy you see birds which he has not noticed, and, unless properly tutored and praised by you, will be desirous to quit those he has found, to search for the bird he conceives you have shot.

188. It is a fine display of intelligence in the dog, and of judicious training in the breaker – may it be your desert and reward ere long to witness it in your pupil, – when a pointer – or setter – in goodly turnips or strong potatoes draws upon birds which obligingly rise one after the other, while by continuing his eloquent attitude he assures you that some still remain unsprung, to which he is prepared to lead you if you will but attend to them and him, and, instead of pot-hunting after those you have killed, wait until his discriminating nose informs him that, having no more strangers to introduce, he is at liberty to assist you in your search.

189. To revert, however, to the point particularly under discussion, viz., whether you prefer that your dog go direct to the fallen bird, or – as I strongly recommend – that he first join you, pray be consistent, exact which you will, but always exact the same, if you are anxious to obtain cheerful unhesitating obedience.

190. I have seen the advantage of the latter method very strikingly exemplified in America, in parts of which there is capital snipe-shooting.33 In the high grass and rushes on the banks of the Richelieu, many a bird have I seen flushed and shot at, of which the liver and white pointer, ranging at a little distance, has known nothing. As he was well broken in, on hearing the report of the gun, he, of course, dropped instantly. His master, when he had reloaded, if the bird had fallen, used invariably to say "Dead,"34 in a low tone of voice, on which the dog would go up to him; and then his master, without stirring from the spot where he had fired, directed him by signals to the place where the bird had tumbled, and in proceeding thither, the dog often had to swim the stream. His master then said "Find." At that word, and not before it, his intelligent four-footed companion commenced the search for the bird, nor did he ever fail to find and bring; and so delicate was his mouth that I have often seen him deliver up a bird perfectly alive, without having deranged a feather, though, very probably, he had swam with it across one of the many creeks which intersect that part of the country. If the shot was a miss, his master's silence after reloading, and a wave of his arm to continue hunting – or the command to "Hie on," if the dog was hidden by the rushes – perhaps a low whistle would have been better, – fully informed his companion of the disappointment. He was quite as good on the large quail, and small wood-cock found in Canada, which latter makes a ringing noise on rising, not unlike the sound of a distant soft bell; but reminiscences of that capital old dog are leading me away from your young one.

191. For some days you cannot shoot to your pupil too steadily and quietly – I had well nigh said too slowly. By being cool, calm, and collected yourself, you will make him so. I am most unwilling to think that you will be too severe, but I confess I have my misgivings lest you should occasionally overlook some slight faults in the elation of a successful right and left. Filling the game-bag must be quite secondary to education. Never hesitate to give up any bird if its acquisition interfere with a lesson. Let all that you secure be done according to rule, and in a sportsmanlike manner.

CHAPTER X.

FIRST LESSON IN AUTUMN CONTINUED. ASSISTANT

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 constitutions. 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 assured 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 attitude 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 substitute 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 assistance, 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 cock pheasant, or yet more, an old cock 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 cocker 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 embarrassing 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 assumes 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.