Part 41 (1/2)

280. This accomplishment--and in many places abroad its value is almost inappreciable--can be taught him, if he is under great command, by your occasionally bringing him in to your heel from a point when he is within sight and near you, and again putting him on his point. You will begin your instruction in this accomplishment when the dog is pointing quite close to you. On subsequent occasions, you can gradually increase the distance, until you arrive at such perfection that you can let him be out of sight when you call him. When he is first allowed to be out of your sight, he ought not to be far from you.

281. You may, for a moment, think that what is here recommended contradicts the axiom laid down in 255; but it is there said, that nothing ought to make a dog ”_voluntarily_” leave his point. Indeed, the possession of this accomplishment, so far from being productive of any harm, greatly awakens a dog's intelligence, and makes him perceive, more clearly than ever, that the sole object for which he is taken to the field is to obtain shots for the gun that accompanies him. When he is pointing on your side of a thick hedge, it will make him understand why you call him off;--take him down wind, and direct him to jump the fence: he will at once go to the bird, and, on your encouraging him, force it to rise on your side.

282. You will practise this lesson, however, with great caution, and not before his education is nearly completed, lest he imagine that you do not wish him always to remain stanch to his point. Indeed, if you are precipitate, or injudicious, you may make him blink his game.

283. After a little experience, he will very likely some day satisfactorily prove his consciousness of your object, by voluntarily coming out of thick cover to show you where he is, and again going in and resuming his point.

TO HUNT REGULARLY FROM LEEWARD TO WINDWARD WITHOUT THE GUN.

284. In paragraph 147 I observed, that when you are obliged, as occasionally must be the case, to enter a field to windward with your pupil, you ought to go down to the leeward side of it, keeping him close to your heels, before you commence to hunt. After undeviatingly pursuing this plan for some time, you can, before you come quite to the bottom of the field, send him ahead--by the underhand bowler's swing of the right-hand, IV. of 119,--and, when he has reached the bottom, signal to him to hunt to the right--or left. He will be so habituated to work under your eye--130--that you will find it necessary to walk backwards--up the middle of the field,--while instructing him. As he becomes, by degrees, confirmed in this lesson, you can sooner and sooner send him ahead--from your heel--but increase the distances very gradually,--until at length he will be so far perfected, that you may venture to send him down wind to the extremity of the field--before he commences beating,--while you remain quietly at the top awaiting his return, until he shall have hunted the whole ground, as systematically and carefully as if you had accompanied him from the bottom. By this method you will teach him, on his gaining more experience, invariably to run to leeward, and hunt up to windward--crossing and recrossing the wind--whatever part of a field you and he may enter. What a glorious consummation! and it can be attained, but only by great patience and perseverance. The least reflection, however, will show you that you should not attempt it until the dog is perfected in his range.

285. A careful dog, thus practised, will seldom spring birds, however directly he may be running down wind. He will pull up at the faintest indication of a scent, being at all times anxiously on the look-out for the coveted aroma.

286. Not only to the idle or tired sportsman would it be a great benefit to have a field thus beaten, but the keenest and most indefatigable shot would experience its advantages in the cold and windy weather customary in November, when the tameness of partridge-shooting cannot be much complained of; for the birds being then ever ready to take wing, surely the best chance, by fair means, of getting near them would be to intercept them between the dog and yourself.

287. Here the consideration naturally arises, whether dogs could not be _taught_--when hunting in the ordinary manner with the gun in the rear--

TO HEAD RUNNING BIRDS.

Certainly it could be done. There have been many instances of old dogs _spontaneously_ galloping off, and placing themselves on the other side of the covey--which they had pointed--as soon as they perceived that it was on the run,--and by good instruction you could develope or rather excite, that exercise of sagacity.

288. If dogs are taught to ”hunt from leeward to windward without the gun,” they become habituated to seeing game intercepted between themselves and their masters,--and then their spontaneously heading running birds--though undeniably evincing great intelligence--would not be very remarkable. They would but reverse matters by placing themselves to windward of the birds while the gun was to leeward. This shows that the acquisition of that accomplishment would be a great step towards securing a knowledge of the one we are now considering. Indeed there seems to be a mutual relation between these two refinements in education, for the possession of either would greatly conduce to the attainment of the other.

289. This accomplishment--and hardly any can be considered more useful--is not so difficult to teach an intelligent dog as one might at first imagine; it is but to lift him, and make him act on a larger scale, much in the manner described in 212 and 296. Like, however, everything else in canine education--indeed, in all education--it must be effected gradually; nor should it be commenced before the dog has had a season's steadying, then practise him in heading every wounded bird, and endeavor to make him do so at increased distances. Whenever, also, he comes upon the ”heel” of a covey which is to leeward of him--instead of letting him ”foot”

it--oblige him to quit the scent and take a circuit--sinking the wind--so as to place himself to leeward of birds. He will thereby _head the covey_, and you will have every reason to hope that after a time his own observation and intellect will show him the advantage of thus intercepting birds and stopping them when they are on the run, whether the manoeuvre places him to leeward or to windward of them.

290. If you could succeed in teaching but one of your dogs thus to take a wide sweep when he is ordered, and head a running covey before it gets to the extremity of the field--while the other dogs remain near you--you would be amply rewarded for months of extra trouble in training, by obtaining shots on days when good sportsmen, with fair average dogs, would hardly pull a trigger. And why should you not? Success would be next to certain if you could as readily place your dog exactly where you wish, as shepherds do their collies. And whose fault will it be if you cannot?

Clearly not your dog's, for he is as capable of receiving instruction as the shepherd's.

291. Manifestly it would be worth while to take great pains to teach this accomplishment, for in all countries it would prove a most killing one when birds become wild; and it would be found particularly useful wherever the red-legged partridge abounds,--which birds you will find do not lie badly when the coveys are, by any means, well headed and completely broken. But there are other accomplishments nearly as useful as those already detailed; the description of them, however, we will reserve for a separate Chapter.

CHAPTER XV.

SETTER TO RETRIEVE. BLOODHOUNDS. RETRIEVERS TO ”BEAT.” WOUNDED WILD FOWL RETRIEVED FIRST.

SETTER TO RETRIEVE.

292. Undeniably there is some value in the extra number of shots obtained by means of highly-broken dogs; and nearly as undeniable is it that no man, who is not over-rich, will term that teaching superfluous which enables him to secure in one dog the services of two. Now, I take it for granted--as I cannot suppose you are willing to lose many head of killed game--that you would be glad to be always accompanied in the field by a dog that retrieves. Unless you have such a companion, there will be but little chance of your often securing a slightly winged bird in turnips.

Indeed, in all rough shooting, the services of a dog so trained are desirable to prevent many an unfortunate hare and rabbit from getting away to die a painful, lingering death; and yet, if the possession of a large kennel is ever likely to prove half as inconvenient to you as it would to me, you would do well, according to my idea of the matter, to dispense with a regular retriever, provided you have a highly-broken setter who retrieves well.