SHOOTING HARES. COURAGE IMPARTED.—“BACKING” TAUGHT.

331. Shooting Hares not recommended; shooting Rabbits strongly condemned. In Note, why superior Grouse-Dog better than superior Partridge-Dog. Dog brought from strange country always hunts to disadvantage.—332. Put off killing Hares long as possible.—333. Dogs not to quit faint Scent of Birds for strong Scent of Hare.—334. Dog off after Hare; no racing after Dog; Puss gone down wind.—335. Checkcord employed. Drive in spike on “So-ho-ing” Hare.—336. Impropriety of Firing at Dog.—337. Hares scarce, visit Rabbit-warren.—338. Morning, hunt where no Hares; evening, where plentiful. Mountain-hares. In Note, how to choose, and tell age of, Hares and Rabbits.—339. Killing Hare in its form.—340. Shooting Bird on ground.—341. Dog taught to pursue wounded Hare.—342. Whip carried, saves punishment. Detention of Dog at crouching posture, saves whip.—343. Pointer’s revenge for detention from hunting.—344. Few cuts, but severe ones.—345. Instance of timidity cured. Range imparted by giving Dog feet of Partridge. In Note, sinews of thigh dragged out.—346. Punishment, not defective Nose, causes Blinking.—347. Courage imparted to timid Dogs.—348. Dogs expect punishment for faults; vexed when Birds are not fired at.—349. Instance of Pointer’s not hunting keenly until punished.—350. What Dog to select to teach yours to “Back.”—351. Example has great influence.—352. Instanced in conduct of young bitch when hunted with steady dog. In Note, Mare teaching Colts to swim.—353. “Backing” old Dog.—354. “Finder” to “road” to a “rise;” his intrusive companion described.—355. To “Back” by Eye, not Nose.—356. Encourage old Dog before rating the other.—357. “Finder” not to advance, even if passed by other Dog.—358. The “Backer” should “down charge.”—359. Dog when pointing never to “down charge;” how taught.—360. Much required in “Dove.”

331. Probably you may be in a part of the country where you may wish to kill hares to your dog’s point. I will, therefore, speak about them, though I confess I cannot do it with much enthusiasm. Ah! my English friend, what far happier autumns we should spend could we but pass them in the Highlands! Then we should think little about those villanous hares (338). We should direct the whole undivided faculties of our dogs, to work out the haunt of the noble grouse.[64] As for rabbits, I beg we may have no further acquaintance, if you ever, even in imagination, shoot them to your young dog. Should you be betrayed into so vile a practice, you must resign all hope of establishing in him a confirmed systematic range. He will degenerate into a low potterer,—a regular hedge-hunter. In turnips he will always be thinking more of rabbits than birds. It will be soon enough to shoot the little wretches to him when he is a venerable grandfather. The youngster’s noticing them (which he would be sure to do if you had ever killed one to him) might frequently lead to your mis-instructing him, by earnestly enforcing “Care” at a moment when you ought to rate him loudly with the command “Ware” (or “No”). But to our immediate subject.

332. Defer as long as possible the evil day of shooting a hare over him, that he may not get too fond (69) of such vermin—I beg pardon, I mean game—and when you do kill one, so manage that he may not see it put into the bag. On no account let him mouth it. You want him to love the pursuit of feather more than of fur, that he may never be taken off the faintest scent of birds by coming across the taint of a hare. I therefore entreat you, during his first season, if you will shoot hares, to fire only at those which you are likely to kill outright; for the taint of a wounded hare is so strong that it would probably diminish his zeal, and the sensitiveness of his nose, in searching for a winged bird.

333. The temptation is always great to quit for a strong scent of hare (which any coarse-nosed dog can follow), a feeble one of birds; therefore it is a very satisfactory test of good breaking to see a dog, when he is drawing upon birds, in no way interrupted by a hare having just crossed before him. If you aim at such excellence, and it is frequently attained in the Highlands, it is certain you must not shoot hares over your youngster.

334. I hope that he will not see a hare before you have shot a few birds over him. The first that springs up near him will test the perfection to which he has attained in his initiatory lessons. Lose not a moment. It is most essential to restrain instantaneously the naturally strong impulse of the dog to run after four-footed game. Halloo out “Drop” to the extent of your voice,—raise your hand,—crack your whip,—do all you can to prevent his pursuing. Of course you will not move an inch. Should he commence running, thunder out “No,” “no.” If, in spite of everything, he bolts after the hare, you have nothing for it but patience. It is of no use to give yourself a fit of asthma by following him. You have only half as many legs as he has,—a deficiency you would do well to keep secret from him as long as possible. Wait quietly where you are—for an hour if necessary. You have one consolation,—puss, according to her usual custom, has run down wind,—your dog has lost sight of her, and is, I see, with his nose to the ground, giving himself an admirable lesson in roading out a haunt. After a time he will come back looking rather ashamed of himself, conscious that he did wrong in disobeying, and vexed with himself from having more than a suspicion forced upon him, that he cannot run so fast as the hare. When he has nearly reached you, make him “drop.” Scold him severely, saying, “Ware chase” (a command that applies to the chase of birds as well as of hares). Pull him to the place where he was when first he got a view of the hare,—make him lie down,—rate him well,—call out “No,” or “Hare,” or “Ware chase,” or any word you choose, provided you uniformly employ the same. Smack the whip and punish him with it, but not so severely as you did when we assumed that he tore the bird (end of 322). You then flogged him for two offences: first, because he rushed in and seized the bird; secondly, because he tore it and tasted blood. If you had not then punished him severely, you could never have expected him to be tender-mouthed. On the next occasion he might have swallowed the bird, feathers and all.

335. Should he persist in running after hares, you must employ the checkcord. If you see the hare, at which he is pointing, in its form, drive a peg firmly into the ground, and attach the cord to it, giving him a few slack yards, so that after starting off he may be arrested with a tremendous jerk. Fasten the line to the part of the spike close to the ground, or he may pull it out.

336. I have known a dog to be arrested in a headlong chase by a shot fired at him:—an act which you will think yet more reprehensible than the previous mismanagement for which his owner apparently knew no other remedy than this hazardous severity.

337. When you are teaching your dog to refrain from chasing hares, take him, if you can, where they are plentiful. If they are scarce, and you are in the neighbourhood of a rabbit-warren, visit it occasionally of an evening. He will there get so accustomed to see the little animals running about unpursued by either of you, that his natural anxiety to chase fur, whether it grow on the back of hare or rabbit, will be gradually diminished.

338. In Scotland there are tracts of heather where one may hunt for weeks together and not find a hare; indeed, it is commonly observed, that hares are always scarce on those hills where grouse most abound. In other parts they are extremely numerous. Some sportsmen in the Highlands avail themselves of this contrasted ground, in order to break a young dog from “chasing.” They hunt him, as long as he continues fresh, where there are no hares; and when he becomes tired, they take him to the Lowlands, where they are plentiful. By then killing a good many over him, and severely punishing him whenever he attempts to follow, a cure is often effected in two or three days. In the yet higher ranges, the mountain-hares,[65] from possessing a peculiarly strong scent, and not running to a distance, are a severe trial to the steadiest dog.

In the autumn they are nearly blue; in the winter white; and in some counties are now found in marvellous quantities. The greater pains taken of late years to destroy all kinds of vermin, has much tended to their increase. A few seasons ago a party at Lord M——d’s, in Perthshire, killed seven hundred in one day. The plan adopted was for a large body of men and boys to surround a hill at its base, and beating slantingly upwards, to drive all the hares before them. The sportsmen, who formed part of the ascending cordon, obtained many shots; but the principal slaughter was reserved for the guns previously posted on the top. There is, however, little sport or fun in such stationary, wholesale butchery, beyond the excitement of competition, and not being able to load fast enough. The doomed animals, being solely attentive to the movements of their assailants below, come trooping upwards, and are mostly knocked over whilst sitting on their haunches, listening to the unusual sounds made by the approaching beaters.

339. Killing a sitting hare to your dog’s point will wonderfully steady him from chasing; but do not fire until he has remained stanch for a considerable time. This will show him that puss is far more likely to be bagged by your firing, than by his pursuing.

340. For the same object,—I mean, to make your young dog stanch,—I would recommend your killing a few birds on the ground to his point, were it not that you rarely have the opportunity.

341. When you have made your dog perfectly steady from chasing, you may (supposing you have no retriever at hand), naturally enough, inquire how you are to teach him to follow any hare you may be so unlucky as merely to wound. I acknowledge that the task is difficult. I would say, at once resolve to give up every wounded hare during his first season.[66] The following year, provided you find that he remains quite steady, on your wounding an unfortunate wretch, encourage your dog to pursue it by running yourself after it. When he gets hold of it, check him if he mauls it, and take it from him as quickly as possible. As I cannot suppose that you are anxious to slaughter every hare you see, let the next two or three go off without a shot. This forbearance will re-steady him, and after a while his own sagacity and nose (545) will show him that the established usage was departed from solely, because puss was severely struck.

342. As you wish to flog your dog as little as possible, never go out without your whip, paradoxical as this may appear. The dog’s salutary awe of the implement which he sees in your possession, like a horse’s consciousness of your heel being armed with a spur, will tend to keep him in order. If the dog is a keen ranger, you may much spare the whip by making him crouch at your feet for several minutes after he has committed a fault. The detention will be felt by him, when he is all anxiety to be off hunting, as a severe punishment. If he is a mettlesome, high-couraged animal, he will regard, as a yet severer punishment, his being compelled to follow at your heels for half-an-hour, while the other dogs are allowed the enjoyment of hunting.

343. Captain W——l, (son of the celebrated shot), was in the stubbles in ’50 with some friends, who were anxious to see how their own dogs hunted. He, therefore, had his favourite pointer taken up and led by an attendant. This first-rate animal, who is passionately devoted to the sport, struggled so violently to get free, that he actually foamed at the mouth. After a time he was uncoupled; when, instead of hunting as usual, he raced over the field, quartering his ground most systematically, and designedly springing all the birds. Quite useless was every halloo and threat, whether of voice or whip;—stop he would not, as long as there was a feather in the field. Satisfied then with the mischief he had done, he sat down by the hedge, quietly awaiting any punishment that might be awarded him. His master, however, feeling persuaded that the dog had only acted from the impulse of momentary passion, and with the intention of avenging the unusual indignity to which he had been subjected, merely reproached him for his misconduct, and allowed him to hunt the next field, which he did as steadily as ever. This was somewhat similar to “Captain’s” behaviour (492).

344. Excess of punishment has made many a dog of good promise a confirmed blinker; and of far more has it quenched that keen ardour for the sport, without which no dog can be first-rate. For this reason, if not from more humane motives, make it a rule to give but few cuts; let them, however, be tolerably severe. Your pupil’s recollection of them, when he hears the crack of the whip, will prevent the necessity of their frequent repetition.

345. I knew of a young fellow’s purchasing a pointer of an excellent breed from a gamekeeper for a few shillings merely, as the animal had become so timid from over-chastisement, that she not only blinked her game, but seldom quitted the man’s heels.

The lad had the good sense to treat the bitch, at all times, with the greatest kindness; and in order to induce her to hunt, he used to break off the feet[67] of every bird he killed, and give them to her to eat along with the sinews. The plan succeeded so well that she eventually became an unusually keen and fast ranger. This would be a hazardous step to take with a dog wanted to retrieve. There are few, if any dogs who may not be tempted by hunger to eat game. A gentleman told me, that, to his great astonishment, he one day saw an old tender-mouthed retriever, that he had possessed for years, deliberately swallow a partridge. Before he could get up to the dog even the tail-feathers had disappeared. On inquiry it turned out that, through some neglect, the animal had not been fed.

346. Some argue that blinking arises from a defective nose, not from punishment; but surely it is the injudicious chastisement following the blunders caused by a bad nose that makes a dog, through fear, go to “heel” when he winds birds. A bad nose may lead to a dog’s running up birds from not noticing them, but it cannot naturally induce him to run away from them. Possibly he may be worthless from a deficiency in his olfactory powers; but it is hard to conceive how these powers can be improved by a dread of doing mischief when he finds himself near game. Some dogs that have been unduly chastised do not even betray themselves by running to “heel,” but cunningly slink away from their birds without giving you the slightest intimation of their vicinity. I have seen such instances. When a young dog, who has betrayed symptoms of blinking, draws upon birds, head him, if you can, before you give him the order to “toho:” he will then have such a large circuit to make, that he will feel the less tempted to run to your heels.

347. Obedience and intelligence are, as I have already remarked, best secured by judicious ratings and encouragements,—scoldings for bad conduct,—praise, caresses, and rewards for good. Never forget, therefore, to have some delicacy in your pocket to give the youngster whenever he may deserve it. All dogs, however, even the most fearful, ought to be made able to bear a little punishment. If, unfortunately, your dog is constitutionally timid (I cannot help saying unfortunately, though so many of the sort have fine noses), the whip must be employed with the greatest gentleness, the lash being rather laid on the back than used, until such forbearance, and many caresses before his dismissal, have gradually banished the animal’s alarm, and ultimately enabled you to give him a very slight beating, on his misconducting himself, without any danger of making him blink. By such means, odd as it may sound, you create courage, and with it give him self-confidence and range.

348. A judiciously educated dog will know as well as you do whether or not he has earned a chastisement, and many a one is of so noble a nature that he will not wish to avoid it if he is conscious that he deserves it. He will become as anxious for good sport as you are, and feel that he ought to be punished, if from his own misconduct he mars it. Indeed, he will not have much opinion of your sagacity if you do not then give him a sound rating, or let him have a taste of the lash, though it matters not how slight. Clearly this feeling, which it will be right to foster, must have arisen from his belief that you are always conscious of his actions (383); therefore never check him for coming towards you on his committing any unseen error. Moreover, when he has been but a little shot to, you will find that if you abstain from firing at a bird which through his fault he has improperly flushed, although in its flight it affords you an excellent shot, you will greatly vex him; and this will tend to make him more careful for the future.

349. Mr. C——s R——n (286) had a pointer who would at once give up hunting if he was not properly chastised on committing a fault;—but what is far more extraordinary, and strongly shows the varied, and occasionally odd dispositions of dogs, he would never hunt keenly until from birds rising wildly (or from some other cause) an excuse arose for giving him a flogging. After receiving the punishment he would start off in the greatest spirits, and range with uncommon ardour and perseverance. An excuse was, however, quite indispensable; for, if from a good-humoured desire to gratify his apparent longings he was favoured beforehand with a thrashing, he would consider himself imposed on, and forthwith run home.

350. When, after a few weeks, you perceive that the youngster has confidence in himself, and is likely to hunt independently, not deferentially following the footsteps of an older companion, take out a well broken dog with him, that you may have the opportunity of teaching him to “back.” Be careful to choose one not given to make false points; for if he commit such mistakes, your pupil will soon utterly disregard his pointing. Select also one who draws upon his birds in a fine, determined attitude; not one to whose manner even you must be habituated to feel certain he is on game. Be watchful to prevent your dog ever hunting in the wake of the other, which, in the humility of canine youth, he probably will, unless you are on the alert to wave him in a different direction, the moment you observe him inclined to seek the company of his more experienced associate. By selecting a slow old dog, you will probably diminish the wish of the young one to follow him; for it is likely that the youngster’s eagerness will make him push on faster, and so take the lead.

351. The example for a few days (but only for a few days) of a good stanch dog who is not a hedge-hunter,—has no bad habits, and does not require being called to,—will be advantageous to your inexperienced animal;—as an instance:

352. On one occasion, when I was abroad, I lent a favourite dog to a young friend who had requested the services of the animal for his kennel, not the field. I much objected to any person’s shooting over the dog except myself, particularly as it was only his second season. Therefore, very knowingly as I thought, I sent him on a Saturday evening, having obtained a promise that he should be returned to me early on Monday morning—and so he was; the lad, however, had done me; for he confessed, many months afterwards, that he could not resist the temptation of taking out my pointer snipe-shooting on the intermediate Sunday along with his little liver-coloured bitch;—and with a glowing countenance he observed that he never had been so enchanted, for his young lady seeing her fond companion drop instantly the gun was fired, and remain immoveable until “hied on,” sedulously imitated him throughout the day. It was the making of her,—but as it was the first time in her young life she had ever behaved steadily, there was a great risk of my pointer’s being much injured; for, alas! like poor mortals, dogs are more prone to follow a bad example[68] than a good one. We are, however, wandering.

353. On the old dog’s pointing, catch the eye of the young one. If you cannot readily do so, and are not afraid of too much alarming the birds, call to the old fellow by name, and desire him to “toho.” The order will make the young one look round, and awaken him to a suspicion of what is going forward. Hold up your right arm,—stand still for a minute,—and then, carrying your gun as if you were prepared momentarily to fire, retreat, or move sideways in crab-like fashion towards the old dog, continuing your signal to the other to remain steady, and turning your face to him, so that he may be restrained by the feeling that your eye is constantly fixed upon him. He will soon remark the attitude of the old dog, and almost intuitively guess its meaning. Should the old one draw upon his game, still the other dog must remain stationary. If he advance but an inch, rate him. Should he rush up (which is hardly to be expected), at him at once;—having made him drop, catch hold of him, and drag him to the place at which he should have backed,—there (if you judge such strong measures necessary) peg him down until after you have had your shot and are reloaded. If by heading the birds you can drive them towards the young dog, do so; and aim at the one most likely to fall near him. Endeavour to make him comprehend that any sign or word to urge on or retard the leading dog, in no way applies to him. This he will soon understand if he has been properly instructed with an associate in the initiatory lesson described in (49). After you have picked up the bird let him sniff at it.

354. It is most important that the dog which first winds birds should be allowed to “road” them to a spring without being flurried, or in any way interfered with by another dog. Few things are more trying to your temper as a sportsman, than to see a self-sufficient cub, especially when birds are wild, creep up to the old dog whom he observes pointing at a distance, or cautiously drawing upon a covey. The young whipper-snapper pays no attention to your most energetic signals: you are afraid to speak lest you should alarm the birds, and before you can catch hold of the presumptuous jackanapes, he not only steals close to the good old dog, but actually ventures to head him; nay, possibly dares to crawl on yet nearer to the birds in the hope of enjoying a more intoxicating sniff.

355. All dogs but the “finder” should stand wholly by sight,—just the reverse of pointing. Your dog’s nose ought to have nothing to do with backing. If you permit it, he will get the abominable habit of creeping up to his companions in the manner just described (354), when he observes them to be winding birds; and though he may not presume to take the lead, nay, even keep at so respectful a distance as in no way to annoy the “finder,” yet a longing to inhale the “grateful steam” (as that good poet and capital sportsman, Somerville, terms it) will make him constantly watch the other dogs, instead of bestowing his undivided attention and faculties upon finding game for himself. It is quite enough if he backs whenever you order him, or he accidentally catches sight of another dog either “pointing” or “roading;” and the less he is looking after his companions, the more zealously will he attend to his own duties.

356. If you have any fears that the old dog when he is on birds will not act steadily, should you have occasion to chide the young one, be careful to give the old dog a word expressive of your approval, before you commence to rate the other.

357. When your youngster is hereafter hunted in company, should he make a point, and any intrusive companion, instead of properly backing him, be impertinently pressing on, the youngster should not be induced (however great may be the trial upon his patience and forbearance) to draw one foot nearer to the game than his own knowledge of distance tells him is correct; not even if his friend, or rather, jealous rival, boldly assumes the front rank. Your pupil will have a right to look to you for protection, and to expect that the rash intruder, however young, be at the least well rated.

358. It is a matter of little moment whether the “backer” attends to the “down charge,” or continues to back as long as the other dog remains at his point. It appears, however, best, that he should “drop,” unless he is so near that he winds the game, when he would be rather pointing than backing (and should, consequently, behave as explained in 274); for the fewer exceptions there are to general rules the more readily are the rules observed.

359. Should both dogs make separate points at the same moment, it is clear that neither can back the other. They must act independently—each for himself. Moreover, your firing over one should not induce the other to “down charge,” or in any way divert his attention from his own birds. He ought to remain immoveable as a statue. Some dogs, whose high courage has not been damped by over-correction, will do this from their own sagacity; but to enable you to teach them to behave thus steadily, game should be plentiful. When you are lucky enough to observe both dogs pointing at the same time, let your fellow-sportsman (or your attendant) flush and fire at the birds found by the older dog, while you remain stationary near the young one, quietly but earnestly cautioning him to continue firm. When your companion has reloaded and picked up his game (and made the other dog “back”), let him join you and knock over the bird at which your pupil is pointing. It will not be long before he (your young dog) understands what is required of him, if he has been practised (as recommended in 274) not to “down charge” when pointing unsprung birds. In short, it may be received as an axiom, that nothing ought to make a dog voluntarily relinquish a point so long as he winds birds; and nothing but the wish to continue his point should make him neglect the “down charge” the instant he hears the near report of a gun.

360. “Dove,” (the setter spoken of in 102, who invariably stands at her point,) on one occasion in the season of ’50 dropped as usual on her master’s firing at some distance from her; but, instead of “seeking dead” as ordered when he had reloaded, she remained immoveable at the “down charge,” although repeatedly coaxed and called to. The sportsman thought that birds must be near, and after much perseverance, he succeeded in walking up a brace that were lying close to her. We must allow that this was a prettily conceived piece of caution on the part of Mrs. “Dove;” but how far more usefully would she have acted had she been taught the inferiority of the “down charge” to the continued point, followed by the “road” to successive birds.