
Полная версия
The Dog
294. As it will be your endeavor, during your pupil's first season, to make him thoroughly stanch and steady, I cannot advise you, as a general rule – liable, of course, to many exceptions – one of which is named in 219– to let him retrieve – by retrieve I always mean fetch – until the following year. There is another advantage in the delay. His sagacity will have shown him that the design of every shot is to bag the game – when, therefore, he has once been permitted to pick up a bird, he will be desirous of carrying it immediately to you, and will resist the temptation to loiter with it, mouthing and spoiling it; and however keenly he may have heretofore "sought dead," he will henceforth search with redoubled zeal, from the delight he will experience in being permitted to carry his game. Moreover, the season's shooting, without lifting, will have so thoroughly confirmed him in the "down charge," that the increased47 inclination to bolt off in search of a falling bird will be successfully resisted. If he has been taught while young to "fetch" —92, 94, &c., – he will be so anxious to take the birds to you, that instead of there being any difficulty in teaching him this accomplishment, you will often, during his first season, have to restrain him from lifting when he is "pointing dead." The least encouragement will make him gladly pick up the birds, and give them, as he ought, to no one but yourself.
295. You need hardly be cautioned not to let more than one dog retrieve the same bird. With more dogs than one the bird would, almost to a certainty, be torn; and if a dog once becomes sensible of the enjoyment he would derive in pulling out the feathers of a bird, you will find it difficult to make him deliver it up before he has in some way disfigured it. If you shoot with several dogs that retrieve, be careful always to let the dog who finds the game be the one to bring it. It is but fair that he should be so rewarded, and thus all will be stimulated to hunt with increased diligence.
296. If the dog that found the covey be not able to wind the bird you have shot, make one of the other dogs take a large circuit. The latter may thus, without interfering with the first dog, come upon the bird, should it have run far. Send him in the direction the covey has taken – the chances are great that the bird is travelling towards the same point. By pursuing this plan, obviously there will be much less chance of your losing a bird than if you allow the dogs to keep close together while searching. – See also 98.
297. Do not think that by making your setter lift – after his first season – instead of "pointing dead," there will be any increased risk of his raising unsprung birds. The difference between the scent of dead or wounded game, and that of game perfectly uninjured, is so vast, that no steady, experienced dog will fail to point any fresh bird he may come across whilst seeking for that which is lost.
As a proof of this I may mention that,
298. In North America I once saw, lying on the ground, three snipe, which a pointer, that retrieved, had regularly set one after the other, having found a couple on his way to retrieve the first, and which he afterwards brought in succession to his master, who had all the time governed the dog entirely by signs, never having been obliged to use his voice beyond saying, in a low tone, "Dead," or "Find." I remember, also, hearing of a retrieving setter that on one occasion pointed a fresh bird, still retaining in her mouth the winged partridge which she was carrying, – and of a pointer who did the same when he was bringing a hare; there must, too, be few sportsmen who will not admit that they have found it more difficult to make a dog give up the pursuit of a wounded hare than of one perfectly uninjured. I know of a sportsman's saying he felt certain that the hare his retriever was coursing over the moors must have been struck, although the only person who had fired stoutly maintained that the shot was a regular miss.48 The owner of the dog, however, averred that this was impossible, as he never could get the discerning animal to follow any kind of unwounded game; and, on the other hand, that no rating would make him quit the pursuit of injured running feather or fur. The retriever's speedy return with puss, conveniently balanced between his jaws, bore satisfactory testimony to the accuracy of both his own and his master's judgment.
299. Some good sportsmen maintain that a retrieving setter – or pointer – on finding a dead bird ought to point it until desired to lift it. This training they hold to be advisable, on the ground that it conduces to the dog's steadiness by diminishing his wish to run forward on seeing a bird fall; but the plan has necessarily this evil consequence, that should the setter, when searching for the dead bird, come across and point, as he ought, any fresh game, on your telling him to fetch it – as you naturally will – he must spring it if he attempt to obey you. Surely this would tend more to unsteady him than the habit of lifting his dead birds as soon as found? Your dog and you ought always to work in the greatest harmony – in the mutual confidence of your, at all times, thoroughly understanding each other – and you should carefully avoid the possibility of ever perplexing him by giving him any order it is out of his power to obey, however much he may exert himself. Moreover, if you teach your retrieving setter to "point dead," you at once relinquish – surely unnecessarily? – all hope of ever witnessing such a fine display of sagacity and steadiness as has just been related in the first part of 298.
300. If you object to a setter's being taught to lift on the ground that it will make the other dogs jealous, pray remember that the argument has equal force against the employment of a regular retriever in their presence.
REGULAR RETRIEVER TO BEAT
301. We all have our prejudices – every Englishman has a right to many. One of mine is to think a regular retriever positively not worth his keep for general shooting if one of your setting dogs will retrieve well. However, if you shoot much in cover, I admit that a regular retriever which can be worked in perfect silence, never refusing to come in when he is merely signalled to, or, if out of sight, softly whistled to, is better49– particularly when you employ beaters50– but even then he need not be the idle rascal that one generally sees – he might be broken in to hunt close to you, and give you the same service as a mute spaniel. I grant this is somewhat difficult to accomplish, for it much tends to unsteady him, but it can be effected – I have seen it – and, being practicable, it is at least worth trying; for if you succeed, you, as before —292– make one dog perform the work of two; and, besides its evident advantage in thick cover, if he accompany you in your every-day shooting, you will thus obtain, in the course of a season, many a shot which your other dogs, especially in hot weather, would pass over. If, too, the retriever hunts quite close to you, he can in no way annoy his companions, or interfere with them, for I take it for granted he will be so obedient as to come to "heel" the instant he gets your signal.
WATER RETRIEVERS – OR WATER SPANIELS – TO RETRIEVE WOUNDED BEFORE PICKING UP DEAD WILD FOWL
302. This a knowing old dog will often do of his own accord; but you must not attempt to teach a young one this useful habit until you are satisfied that there is no risk of making him blink his birds. You can then call him off when he is swimming towards dead birds, and signal to him to follow those that are fluttering away. If the water is not too deep, rush in yourself, and set him a good example by actively pursuing the runaways; and until all the cripples that can be recovered are safely bagged, do not let him lift one of those killed outright. If very intelligent, he will before long perceive the advantage of the system, or at least find it the more exciting method, and adhere to it without obliging you to continue your aquatic excursions. For advice about water retrievers, see 81 to 85. I have placed this paragraph among the "refinements" in breaking; but I ought, perhaps, to have entered it sooner; for if you are fond of duck-shooting, and live in a neighborhood where you have good opportunities of following it, you should regard this accomplishment as a necessary part of your spaniel's education.
303. In your part of the country none of these extra, or, as some will say, always superfluous accomplishments may be required; but if you consider that a pupil of yours attaining any one of them would be serviceable, be not deterred from teaching it by the idea that you would be undertaking a difficult task. Any one of them, I was nearly saying all of them, could be taught a dog with far greater ease, and in a shorter time, than a well-established, judicious range.
304. It would be quite unreasonable to expect a regular breaker – "mark" I do not say your game-keeper – to teach your dog any of these accomplishments. He may be fully aware of the judiciousness of the system, and be sensible of its great advantages, but the many imperious calls upon his time would preclude his pursuing it in all its details. At the usual present prices, it would not pay him to break in dogs so highly.
305. In following Beckford's advice respecting your making, as far as is practicable, your dog your "constant companion," do not, however, forget that you require him to evince great diligence and perseverance in the field; and, therefore, that his highest enjoyment must consist in being allowed to hunt.
306. Now, it seems to be a principle of nature, – of canine as well as human nature, – to feel, through life, most attachment to that pursuit, whatever it may be, which is most followed in youth. If a dog is permitted as a youngster to have the run of the kitchen, he will be too fond of it when grown up. If he is allowed to amuse himself in every way his fancy dictates, he will think little of the privilege of hunting. Therefore, the hours he cannot pass with you – after you have commenced his education, – I am sorry to say it, but I must do so, he ought to be in his kennel– loose in his kennel,51 not tied up; for straining at his collar would throw out his elbows, and so make him grow up bandy-legged. If, however, he must be fastened, let it be by a chain. He would soon learn to gnaw through a cord, especially if a young puppy, who, from nature, is constantly using his teeth, and thus acquire a trick that some day might prove very inconvenient were no chain at hand. You would greatly consult his comfort by having the chain attached, with a loose ring and swivel, to a spike fixed a few paces in front of his kennel, so that he could take some exercise by trotting round and round.
307. When your dog has attained some age, and hunting has become with him a regular passion, I believe you may give him as much liberty as you please without diminishing his zeal – but most carefully prevent his ever hunting alone, technically called "self-hunting." At that advanced time of life, too, a few occasional irregularities in the field may be innocuously permitted. The steadiest dogs will, at times, deviate from the usual routine of their business, sagaciously thinking that such departure from rule must be acceptable if it tends to obtain the game; and it will be advisable to leave an experienced dog to himself whenever he evinces great perseverance in spontaneously following some unusual plan. You may have seen an old fellow, instead of cautiously "roading" and "pointing dead," rush forward and seize an unfortunate winged bird, while it was making the best use of its legs after the flight of the rest of the covey – some peculiarity in the scent emitted having probably betrayed to the dog's practised nose that the bird was injured. When your pup arrives at such years of discrimination, you need not so vigorously insist upon a patient "down charge" should you see a winged cock-pheasant running into cover. Your dog's habits of discipline would be, I should hope, too well confirmed by his previous course of long drill for such a temporary departure from rule to effect any permanent mischief; but oh! beware of any such laxity with a young pupil, however strongly you may be tempted. In five minutes you may wholly undo the labor of a month. On days, therefore, when you are anxious, coûte qui coûte, to fill the game-bag, pray leave him at home. Let him acquire any bad habit when you are thus pressed for birds, and you will have more difficulty in eradicating it than you would have in teaching him almost any accomplishment. This reason made me all along keep steadily in view the supposition, that you had commenced with a dog unvitiated by evil associates, either biped or quadruped; for assuredly you would find it far easier to give a thoroughly good education to such a pupil, than to complete the tuition (particularly in his range) of one usually considered broken, and who must, in the natural order of things, have acquired some habits more or less opposed to your own system. If, as a puppy, he had been allowed to self-hunt and chase, your labor would be herculean. And inevitably this would have been your task had you ever allowed him to associate with any dog who "self-hunted." The oldest friend in your kennel might be led astray by forming an intimacy with the veriest cur, if a "self-hunter." There is a fascination in the vice – above all, in killing young hares and rabbits – that the steadiest dog cannot resist when he has been persuaded to join in the sport by some vagabond of a poacher possessing a tolerable nose, rendered keenly discerning by experience.
308. I hope that by this time we too well understand each other for you now to wonder why I think that you should not commence hunting your young dog where game is abundant. Professional breakers prefer such ground, because, from getting plenty of points, it enables them to train their dogs more quickly, and sufficiently well to ensure an early sale. This is their object, and they succeed. My object is that you shall establish ultimately great perseverance and a fine range in your young dog, let birds be ever so scarce. If you show him too many at first, he will subsequently become easily dispirited whenever he fails in getting a point.
309. The good condition of a dog's nose is far from being an immaterial part of his conditioning, for on the preservation of its sensitiveness chiefly depends your hope of sport. If it be dry from being feverish, or if it be habituated to the villanous smells of an impure kennel, how are you to expect it to acknowledge the faintest taint of game – yet one that, if followed up by olfactory nerves in high order, would lead to a sure find? Sweetness of breath is a strong indication of health. Cleanliness is as essential as a judicious diet; and you may be assured, that if you look for excellence, you must always have your youngster's kennel clean, dry, airy, and yet sufficiently warm. The more you attend to this, the greater will be his bodily strength and the finer his nose.
In India the kennels are, of course, too hot; but in the best constructed which fell under my observation, the heat was much mitigated by the roofs being thickly thatched with grass. In England, however, nearly all kennels – I am not speaking of those for hounds – are far too cold in winter.
310. There must be sufficient warmth. Observe how a petted dog, especially after severe exercise, lays himself down close to the fire, and enjoys it. Do you not see that instinct teaches him to do this? and must it not be of great service to him? Why, therefore, deny him in cold weather, after a hard day's work, a place on the hearth-rug? It is the want of sufficient heat in the kennels, and good drying and brushing after hard work, that makes sporting dogs, particularly if they are long-coated ones, suffer from rheumatism, blear eyes, and many ills that generally, but not necessarily, attend them in old age.
CONCLUSION
311. Gentle Reader, according to the courteous phraseology of old novels, though most probably I ought to say Brother Sportsman; – If you have had the patience to attend me, through the preceding pages, while I have been describing the educational course of a dog from almost his infancy, up to maturity, I will hope that I may construe that patience into an evidence that they have afforded you some amusement, and perhaps, some useful instruction.
312. Though I may have failed in persuading you to undertake the instruction of your dogs yourself, yet I trust I have shown you how they ought to be broken in: and if you are a novice in the field, I hope I have clearly explained to you in what manner they ought to be shot over – a knowledge which no one can possess by intuition, and which you will find nearly as essential to the preservation of the good qualities of well-tutored dogs as to the education of uninformed ones.
313. I believe that all I have said is perfectly true, and, as the system which I have described advocates kind treatment of man's most faithful companion, and his instruction with mildness rather than severity, I trust that you will be induced to give it a fair trial, and if you find it successful, recommend its adoption.
314. I dare not ask for the same favor at the hands of the generality of regular trainers – I have no right to expect such liberality. They, naturally enough, will not readily forgive my intruding upon what they consider exclusively their own domain, – and, above all, they will not easily pardon my urging every sportsman to break in his own dogs. They will, I know, endeavor to persuade their employers that the finished education which I have described is useless, or quite unattainable, without a great sacrifice of time; and that, therefore, the system which I advocate is a bad one. They will wish it to be forgotten – that I advise a gradual advance, step by step, from the A, B, C; – that accomplishments have only been recommended after the acquisition of essentials – never at the expense of essentials; that at any moment it is in the instructor's power to say, "I am now satisfied with the extent of my pupil's acquirements, and have neither leisure nor inclination to teach him more;" – and that they cannot suggest quicker means of imparting any grade of education, however incomplete; at least they do not – I wish they would; few would thank them more than myself.
315. Greatly vexed at the erroneous way in which I saw some dogs instructed in the north by one who from his profession should have known better, I promised, on the impulse of the moment, to write. If I could have purchased any work which treated the subject in what I considered a judicious and perspicuous manner, and, above all, which taught by what means a finished education could be imparted, I would gladly have recommended the study of it, – have spared myself the trouble of detailing the results of my own observations and experience, – and not have sought to impose on any one the task of reading them. When I began the book, and even when I had finished it, I intended to put it forth without any token by which the writer might be discovered. Mr. Murray, however, forcibly represented that unless the public had some guarantee for the fidelity of the details there would be no chance of the little work being circulated, or proving useful; therefore, having written solely from a desire to assist my brother sportsmen and to show the injudiciousness of severity, with a wish that my readers might feel as keen a zest for shooting as I once possessed, and with a charitable hope that they might not be compelled to seek it in as varied climates as was my lot, I at once annexed my address and initials to the manuscript.
W.N.H.United Service Club,
Pall Mall.
EDITOR'S NOTE
In section 299, page 643, Col. Hutchinson argues against a retrieving Pointer or Setter, pointing a dead bird when ordered "find," and not lifting it until ordered to "fetch." This is the single rule of breaking in which I wholly differ from the Colonel; but here I differ so widely, that I would not own a dog which did not point until ordered to "fetch;" and I consider that one which "fetches" without pointing, when simply ordered to "find," is worthless.
Col. Hutchinson argues that there is a difference in the scent of a wounded and an unwounded bird, which enables a dog certainly to discriminate between the two, so that he may be trusted to point all the live birds he may meet in the way to find his dead bird, and yet to rush upon the latter and pick him up without making any pause. On the other hand, he argues as if there were no difference in the scent of the two, when he says that if the dog be taught to point until ordered to "fetch," and chance to point a live bird before finding the dead, he will flush the live bird on being ordered to "fetch" the dead. I admit that there is a difference of scent at all times to the best nosed dogs, but very faint, even to the best, in bad scenting weather; but that difference will more easily make the dog refuse to flush a live bird, if he do point before fetching, than make him pause to point a live one, if allowed to rush in upon dead ones. The only rule that will keep a dog always up to his business is, that he shall always "point" every game bird or animal he comes upon, dead or living, and always "drop," when it runs or rises, whether a shot be fired or not. I have always shot over dogs broken to point before fetching. I have often been deceived in supposing a fresh bird newly pointed to be the killed one, but have always found my dogs to hesitate so distinctly, before obeying the order to "fetch," as to make it evident that I was in error, and allow me to correct it.
For the better comprehension of the above admirable treatise on breaking, I wish to add, for the benefit of the American sportsmen, that, wherever Col. Hutchinson speaks of the partridge, it is the English bird which he intends, which, in its habits, is closely analogous to our quail; and that all his precepts as to breaking on partridge hold good precisely for the quail with us. In the same way all his precepts for grouse-shooting apply, letter for letter, to our prairie-fowl-shooting; and his precepts for pheasant-shooting to the hunting and shooting of our ruffed grouse, called in the northern states the partridge, and in the southern and western the pheasant. When he speaks of the rabbit as distinct from the hare, he alludes to a European animal which does not exist in America, the original stock of the tame rabbit, which has the habit of burrowing in the ground and dwelling in great communities, known as warrens. We have two kinds of hare, the small one commonly known as the rabbit, and the large Canadian hare, which turns white in winter; but no genuine rabbit. Hutchinson's rules as to breaking, in regard to the English hares and rabbits, hold good of both our varieties.
I will only say farther, that when he speaks of shooting in turnips or potatoes, we may apply his rules to any tall-growing vegetable covert, such as clover, rag weed, wild meadow-grass, or the like, those crops not being so extensively cultivated with us as to be haunted in general by game. Similarly, when he mentions breaking spaniels to gorse, we may substitute hollies, black-brush, cat-briers, and any other thorny covert common in any section of the country; but, in fact, no especial breaking is needed with us, as we have no brake which exactly compares with furze. H.W.H.
1
Catechu, one drachm, will be better than the Calumba. It is far more efficacious. —Dinks.
2
It may be satisfactory to others to know the opinion of so undeniable an authority as Colonel Hawker. The Colonel, in the Tenth Edition of his invaluable Book on Shooting, writes – page 285 – "Since the publication of the last edition, Lieut. – Col. Hutchinson's valuable work on 'Dog-breaking' has appeared. It is a perfect vade mecum for both Sportsmen and Keeper, and I have great pleasure in giving a cordial welcome to a work which so ably supplies my own deficiencies."
3
The American Quail so closely resembles the English partridge in all its habits, except that it takes to covert in large woodlands, and occasionally trees, that all the rules of hunting and beating for it, shooting it, and breaking dogs for its pursuit, are entirely identical. – H.W.H.