HINTS TO PURCHASERS. PRICE OF DOGS.—SHEEP KILLING.

361. The “back” being taught—young Dog again hunted alone.—362. Breakers hunt too many together. Why injudicious.—363. One hour’s Instruction alone, better than a day’s in company.—364. Horse’s value little dependent on Education, Dog’s greatly. Many good points in Dog, similar to those in Horse; in Note, Frame of Pony studied. Arab proverbs. Admirable receipt for putting hard flesh on Horse. Hoof Ointment.—365. Hints to Dog-purchasers. Tenderness of Nose, how judged of.—366 to 368. Instance of great superiority of Nose in Pointer on bad scenting Day.—369. Ditto in Setter.—370. In Breeding, Nose sought for in both parents.—371. Good Dog, like good Horse, not suited to all countries.—372. Purchasing a Brace of Dogs, before buying shoot over.—373. Case in Point.—374. Rushing in to “dead,” how cured.—375. Dogs shot over “single-handed.” Jealousy decreases with intimacy. Independence and self-reliance, how imparted.—376. Good Breeding and Breaking command good Prices.—377 to 379. Great Sums realized at Tattersall’s for thirteen highly-bred Pointers.—380. Small sums unknown Dogs fetch.—381. Mr. C——t’s Dogs half a sovereign each.—382. Immense price given for stanch Setter.—383. Best Dogs; summary of rules for making, concisely given. The best will make mistakes.—384. Companionship with man makes Dog useful servant.—385. Tweed-side Spaniel and blind man.—386. Dog that always ran riot when out of sight.—387. Killing Sheep; cure attempted.—388. Another plan.—389. Third attempt at Remedy.—390. Sir H——n S——d’s recipe.—391. Muzzle Dog likely to worry Sheep.—392. Killing Fowls; the cure.

361. 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.

362. 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 associates.

363. 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 associated 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.

364. The good qualities of a horse being principally derived from nature, a judge can pretty accurately discover his general capabilities simply by a glance at his make and action;—but the good qualities of a sportsman’s dog are chiefly derived from art; consequently, though his movements may be light and springy,—his countenance intelligent,—his nostrils wide,—his cerebral development large,—his forehand deep,—his ribs round and full,—his elbows well detached from them, not tied in,—his shoulders high, and slanting backwards,—his loins muscular and arched,—his quarters lengthy, and sinewy,—his legs bony, and straight,—his feet small and round, pointing direct to the front,—his tail taper to the finest point from a strong root,[69] yet if he has been improperly shot over as a youngster he may never be worth his keep. Therefore, though a man may in five minutes decide upon purchasing the horse, he would act very imprudently if he ventured upon buying the dog before he had seen him hunted;[70] unless indeed he feels well-justified confidence in the ability of the party who broke him in, and is also satisfied with the character, as a sportsman, of the person who has since shot over him.

365. No dog can be worth a large sum, or should be considered perfectly made, that cannot be hunted in perfect silence,—that is not good at finding dead or wounded birds, and that is not sure to point them when found. If in his transverse range he keep his head to windward it is a good sign, for it evinces his consciousness that it is in the breeze he should seek for an intimation of the vicinity of game. As to the excellence of his nose, this can only be fully ascertained by experience, and by comparing him in the field with other dogs; but some opinion may be formed by observing whether on first winding game he confidently walks up to his point with a high head, or is shuffling in an undecided manner to the right and left (perhaps even pottering with his nose near the ground), before he can satisfy himself respecting the exact locality of the birds. There are favourable days when any dog can wind game, when finding many birds will far more depend upon “range” than nose. The surest way to test the olfactory powers of different dogs is to take them out directly after mid-day in sultry weather, or when a north-easterly wind has been blowing for some days. If their condition, &c. is then alike, you may be certain that the dog who winds most birds has the finest (or most cautious?) nose. On such a day chance will but little assist him.

366. On an extremely bad scenting day in October, 1838, a cold dry wind blowing from the east, the Hon. F—— C——, Baron A. and Sir F. H——, then partridge-shooting at C——n, in Staffordshire, saw a liver-coloured pointer take every point from three setters of some celebrity belonging to a very sporting baronet. The setters did not make a single “set” throughout the day, but ran into the birds as if they had been larks. The pointer’s nose was, however, so good that the party, notwithstanding the badness of the scent, bagged thirty-five brace.

367. The keeper who brought out the setters was obliged to own, that he could not otherwise account for the apparent singularity of their behaviour, than by admitting the superiority of the pointer’s nose; yet, judging from the engraving, he did not carry his head well.

368. A stiffish price had been given for the dog, but I need hardly say that it was not considered unreasonable, after the exhibition of scenting-powers so unusual, fairly tested in the field with competitors of established character.

369. In this instance it was a pointer that evinced singular tenderness of nose; but in the following, a setter bore off the palm in a contest with good pointers. Mr. Q——r, of F——w (county of Suffolk), who is an enthusiast about shooting, three years ago took out his favourite dog, a heavy, large-limbed, liver-coloured setter, on a cold, raw, bad scenting day, together with a brace of pointers of high character belonging to another Suffolk sportsman, Mr. W——s. The latter had expressed rather a contemptuous opinion of the setter, whose appearance was undeniably not very prepossessing; but to the gentleman’s astonishment, and perhaps somewhat to his mortification, the lumbering dog found plenty of birds, though there was so little scent that the vaunted pointers were nearly useless. I was told, that at that moment Mr. Q——r would not have taken two hundred guineas for the animal.

370. What a pity it is that more pains are not taken to link in matrimonial chains dogs of the rare excellence of nose described in the preceding paragraph, and in 182, 204, and 289, instead of being satisfied with marked superiority in one parent only! In a setter or pointer sensitiveness of nose is the most valuable natural quality sought for;—correctness of range the most valuable artificial quality.

371. Few horses, however good, are fitted to hunt in all countries, nor are many dogs; and as in selecting a hunter a man ought to consider the kind of work for which he is wanted, so ought he when he is purchasing a dog to be influenced by the kind of country in which the animal is to perform. A slow dog, however good, would weary your heart out on the moors with his perpetual see-saw, ladylike canter; and a fast one, unless wonderfully careful, on enclosed lands alive with game, would severely test your self-control over tongue and temper.

372. If a purchaser be in search of a brace of dogs, assuredly he ought not to give a large figure for them, if they do not traverse their ground separately. What is the use of two dogs if they hunt together? Both are engaged in doing what would be better done by one, for there would be no undue excitement, or jealousy, or withdrawal of attention. Not only ought a purchaser to see how dogs quarter their ground, but, if the time of the year will permit, he should even kill a bird to them,—for though they may once have been good, if an ignorant or careless sportsman has shot over them but for a few days, they may be spoiled (end of 364).

373. 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 spoiled him by their ignoble, pot-hunting propensities.

374. 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 321 and 323. I ought not, however, to have gone after him when first he bolted; I ought merely to have endeavoured to check him with my voice, for it would have been most important to set him a good example by remaining immoveable myself; he might have misconstrued any hasty advance on my part into rivalship for possession of the bird; in short, into a repetition 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[71] with a spike, giving him a liberal allowance of slack line (335). 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 302 to 305.)

375. If you purchase a dog who has been much shot over single-handed by a tolerably good sportsman, you have the satisfaction of knowing that the animal must necessarily have great self-reliance and experience. On the other hand, you will see reason to distrust his forbearance and temper when he is hunted with a companion. Of the usual run of dogs, it probably would be better to purchase two which have been shot over singly, and then associate them in the field, than to buy a brace which had been broken in together. You would, I think, find it more difficult to give independence to the latter, than to cure the jealousy of the former. Jealousy in the field would, however, decrease with their increasing intimacy in the kennel.

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.

376. Confidence, however, in good breeding and breaking often induces sportsmen to give large sums for young dogs without seeing them in the field.

377. In July, 1848, thirteen pointers were sold at Tattersall’s, which brought the large sum of two hundred and fifty-six guineas, though only two of them had ever been shot over.

378. The following description of each was advertised before the sale. I have prefixed to it the prices they severally realized. Such sums mark how highly the public appreciate the qualifications of the breaker who lives with Mr. Moore, of Derbyshire, and ought to stimulate others to increased exertions.

379. To be Sold by Auction,

AT MESSRS. TATTERSALL’S,

On Monday, July 3d, 1848,

FOURTEEN SUPERIOR BRED POINTERS.

THE ABOVE POINTERS ARE THE PROPERTY OF A GENTLEMAN, AND HAVE BEEN BRED WITH THE GREATEST CARE.

^*_*^* The first twelve Lots are well broke, but have not been shot over. Lots 13 and 14 have been shot over both in England and Scotland, and are in every respect superior Pointers.

380. In marked contrast to such high prices, are those often realized at Laing’s and at Wordsworth’s stables, in Edinburgh, where sometimes a batch of pointers and setters are sent for unreserved sale, of whose previous history and education no one can tell anything, except perhaps, the party sent by the vendor,—naturally considered a prejudiced if not an interested witness.

381. The Mr. C——t named in 289 boasts, that he never gives more than half a sovereign for any dog, and that he has some of the best in Scotland. He attends at Laing’s and Wordsworth’s, when dogs are advertised for sale by auction, and buys all those that are decent-looking, and fetch no higher bid than ten shillings,—a frequent occurrence where their characters are quite unknown. He takes his bargains to the moors. Those that show any promise he keeps for further trial; the rest he at once shoots, leaving their bodies unhonoured by any other burial than the purple heather that blooms around them.

382. A red setter brought the largest price that I ever knew paid for a dog. After mid-day he came upon a covey basking in the sun. His owner very knowingly told the shooting party that they might go to luncheon; that he would leave the dog, and accompany them, engaging that they should find him still steadily pointing on their return. The promise was faithfully redeemed by the stanch setter. One of the sportsmen was so struck with the performance, that he could not resist buying at a tremendous figure, and he soon regained, I believe, much of the purchase-money from some incredulous acquaintance, by backing the animal to perform a similar feat. It was, however, no great test of excellence.

383. 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.[72] 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 develop his intelligence, and so render him a more efficient assistant 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 behaviour, and you will be surprised to find 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 endeavour 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 174.)

384. I said, “Make him,” (your pupil,) “as much as you can, your constant companion.” Many breakers seem not to consider, or, at least, seem not to be sufficiently influenced by the consideration, that it is companionship with us, through successive generations, which alone has led to the dog’s becoming the useful servant we find him. In his wild state he may have as much sagacity as when domesticated; but this he displays in a manner in no way advantageous to us;—it is shown in the mode in which he procures his food, avoids his enemies, &c. We hear much of the different degrees of “natural sagacity” evinced in different breeds;—of the wonderful intelligence of collies, &c.: but surely it is chiefly association with man that awakened that apparently greater intelligence; or, to speak more correctly, that gave them the greater habit of observation,—of watching their master’s looks,—of listening to his voice, &c.: whence comes their readier comprehension of his wishes and orders—often termed sagacity.

385. When recently salmon-fishing on the upper part of the Tweed, I occasionally met on its banks a totally blind man, and who, in spite of this great disqualification, continued a keen and successful trout-angler. He had been for some years entirely sightless, and was led about by a large brown Tweed-side spaniel, of whose intelligence wonderful stories are told. M——r travelled much round the country; and it is certain, for he would frequently do so to show off the dog’s obedience, that on his saying (the cord being perfectly slack), “Hie off to the Holmes,” or, “Hie off to Melrose,” &c., &c., the animal would start off in the right direction without an instant’s hesitation. Now, this Tweed spaniel was not born with more brains than other Tweed spaniels, but he was M——r’s constant companion, and had, in consequence, acquired a singular facility of comprehending his orders, and doubtless from great affection was very solicitous to please.

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

I once possessed a pointer who behaved admirably while he was under my eye, but who, if he could cunningly contrive to get on the other side of rising ground, would invariably, instead of pointing, make a rush at any game he came across,—determined, as my Irish companion used to say, “to take his divarsion:” and it was most curious to remark how immediately his pace would slacken, and how promptly he would resume a cautious carriage, the moment he perceived I again had the power of observing him. His proceedings displayed so much sagacity, that though I was extremely vexed, I could hardly find it in my heart to punish him as he deserved.

387. 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 butting at the time that you are administering the lash, and hallooing out “Ware” or “Sheep.” But, unfortunately, this too often fails.

388. 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) associates, that you need not muzzle the dog.

389. 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.

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,[73] they have previously yielded to the great temptation of running down some frisking lamb, whose animated gambols seemed to court pursuit.[74]

390. A full admiral (Sir H——n S——d), as well known in the field as in the ballroom, and whose exhilarating society is coveted alike by young and old, had many years ago a valuable retriever named “Lion,” bred between a setter and a Newfoundland, fast and high-couraged, but which had not been properly trained.

His condemnation had been pronounced by his owner, the late Sir J——s D——n H——y, in the hearing of the admiral, who at once asked for and obtained the dog. Sir J——s’ keeper (P——n) had put a ring upon one of the animal’s fore-feet to prevent his travelling too fast. This the admiral immediately removed, and by making “Lion” his companion, and feeding him himself, he soon brought him into tolerable obedience, but he had the vexation of finding that the retriever always showed a great longing to chase sheep, and more than once had pulled one down in spite of all threats and admonitions.

One fine summer’s morning the cheery admiral, who is an excellent piscator, had started at sunrise across the moors to fish a distant loch. “Lion” quietly followed behind the dog-cart, but on getting sight of some sheep he started off and overturned one.

The admiral hurried up in time to save its life. Although alone, he managed to tie its legs securely together. Ditto “Lion’s,” and then he laid the two helpless animals nearly side by side. With his driving-whip he belaboured “Lion” most severely, endeavouring to make him comprehend why he was punished, and in the intervals of the flagellation caressing the poor sheep.

This occurred about 6 A.M. and the admiral did not return to his captives until the same hour in the evening. After repeating his powerful admonitions he released both the animals, determined to give up the dog as incorrigible should he ever repeat the offence,—but he never did. He turned out an admirable retriever, and a faithful, attached friend. He seemed ever after ashamed to look a sheep in the face. On catching sight of one, he would slink to heel.

Be assured that the truly gallant admiral’s is an excellent recipe for giving a dog a higher relish for cooked than for uncooked mutton.

391. 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[75] of a size that will not interfere with his breathing, and yet effectually prevent the wide extension of his jaws.

392. 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 endeavour, 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 favouring his hide with sundry applications of a whip, and his ears with frequent repetitions of the scaring admonition, “Ware fowl,” “Fowl—fowl—fowl.” Whenever you afterwards catch him watching poultry, be sure to rate him.