Dog Breaking. W. N. Hutchinson

boiled liver[18] at hand to bestow upon him the moment he surrenders his game, until he is thoroughly confirmed in an expeditious delivery. Never give him a piece, however diligently he may have searched, unless he succeed in bringing. When you leave off these rewards do so gradually. The invariable bestowal of such dainties during, at least, the retriever’s first season, will prevent his ever dropping a bird on hearing the report of a gun (as many do), in order to search for the later killed game.

      BIT FOR BLOOD-SUCKER.

117. Should a young retriever evince any wish to assist the cook by plucking out the feathers of a bird; or from natural vice or mismanagement before he came into your possession,[19] show any predisposition to taste blood, take about two feet (dependent upon the size of the dog’s head) of iron wire, say the one-eighth of an inch in diameter, sufficiently flexible for you, but not for him, to bend. Shape this much into the form of the letter U, supposing the extremities to be joined by a straight line. Place the straight part in the dog’s mouth, and passing the other over his head and ears, retain it in position by a light throat lash passed through a turn in the wire, as here roughly represented. The flexibility of the wire will enable you to adjust it with ease to the shape of his head. When in the kennel he ought to be occasionally thus bitted, that he may not fret when he is first hunted with it. It will not injure his teeth or much annoy him, if it lies on his grinders a little behind the tushes.

118. Sometimes a retriever, notwithstanding every encouragement, will not pursue a winged bird with sufficient rapidity. In this case associate him for a few days with a quicker dog, whose example will to a certainty animate him and increase his pace. It is true that when he is striving to hit off a scent he cannot work too patiently and perseveringly; but, on the other hand, the moment he is satisfied he is on it, he cannot follow too rapidly. A winged bird when closely pressed, seems, through nervousness, to emit an increasing stream of scent; therefore, though it may sound paradoxical, the retriever’s accelerated pace then makes him (his nose being close to the ground) the less likely to overrun it; and the faster he pursues the less ground must he disturb, for the shorter will be the chase.

      THE “DOWN CHARGE.”

119. Retrievers are generally taught to rush in, the instant a bird falls. This plan, like most other things, has its advocates and its opponents. I confess to being one of the latter, for I cannot believe that in the long run it is the best way to fill the bag. I think it certain that more game is lost by birds being flushed while the guns are unloaded,[20] than could be lost from the scent cooling during the short period the dog remains at the “down charge.” Unquestionably some retrievers have so good a nose, that the delay would not lead to their missing any wounded game, however slightly struck (123); and the delay has this great advantage, that it helps to keep the retriever under proper subjection, and diminishes his anxiety to rush to every part of the line where a gun may be fired, instead of remaining quietly at his master’s heels until signaled to take up the scent. Moreover, a retriever, by neglecting the “down charge,” sets an example to the pointers or setters who may be his companions, which it is always more or less difficult to prevent the dogs, if young, from following. But I once shot over a retriever which I could hardly wish not to have “run on shot.” On a bird being hit he started off with the greatest impetuosity, kept his eye immoveably fixed on its flight, and possessed such speed, that a winged bird scarcely touched the ground ere it was pinned. He would, too, often seize a slightly injured hare before it had acquired its best pace. The pursuit so soon terminated, that possibly less game escaped being fired at, than if the retriever had not stirred until the guns were reloaded. On a miss he was never allowed—indeed appeared little inclined—to quit “heel.” Of course a trainer’s trouble is decreased by not breaking to the “down charge,” which may induce some to recommend the plan; though it is to be observed, that this class of dogs is more easily than any other perfected in it, because the breaker nearly always possesses the power of treading upon or seizing the checkcord the instant a bird is sprung.

120. The nature of your shooting will much influence you in deciding which of the two methods to adopt; but should you select the one which the generality of good sportsmen consider to be most according to rule, and to possess the greatest beauty, viz., the “down charge,” rather lose any bird, however valuable, so long as your retriever remains young, than put him on the “foot” a second before you have reloaded. Undoubtedly it ought to be taught to every dog broken for sale, as the purchaser can always dispense with it should he judge it unnecessary:—it can soon be untaught. It is clear that not “quitting heel” until ordered, is tantamount to the regular “down charge,” but I think the last is the easiest to enforce constantly. It is the more decided step.

      MR. K——G’S “BEN.”

121. Mr. K——g (mentioned in 231) had a famous retriever whose build, close curly hair, and aquatic propensities, showed his close affinity to the water spaniel, though doubtless there was some strain of the Landsman. He retrieved with singular zeal and pertinacity. Indeed his superiority over all competitors in his neighbourhood, was so generally admitted, that his master was hardly ever asked to shoot at any place, without a special invitation being sent to “Ben.” When beating a cover, there was a constant call for “Ben.” No merely winged pheasant fell to the ground, and no hare went off wounded but there was heard, “Ben, Ben.” On one occasion, when K——g was posted at the extremity of the line, the dog was called away so often that his master got annoyed, and declared that the animal should attend to no one but himself. Soon there was a double shot, and, of course, the usual vociferations for “Ben,” but he was ordered to keep close. Louder and louder were the cries for “Ben,” but all in vain,—he obediently followed only his master’s orders. At length when the cover was beaten through, K——g inquired into the cause of the hubbub. Young B——k told him, in no kind humour, that his churlishness in retaining the dog had lost them a fine hare. “If,” said K——g, “you are certain you wounded it, and can put me on the exact spot where it was when you fired, I will bet you £5 that ‘Ben’ shall find her.” B——k observed that he knew perfectly the precise place, having carefully marked it with a stick, but added, that he much doubted the possibility of the dog’s picking up the scent, as more than half an hour had since elapsed. K——g, however, stuck to his offer. They went back and found some pile, which proved that the hare had been struck. The dog was put on the trail. He at once took it, but was so long away, (perhaps twenty minutes,) that they thought it best to search for him. They found him almost immediately, lying down with the hare alongside of him. His tongue was hanging out of his mouth, and he showed other symptoms of great distress. Evidently he had brought the hare from a considerable distance.

      BEN’S REFLECTIONS.

122. “Ben” had numerous excellent qualities, but his greatest admirers, and few dogs had so many, were obliged to admit, that he was of a quarrelsome, pugnacious disposition. It unluckily happened that he had taken a great dislike to a large cubbish young retriever belonging to the aforesaid Mr. B——k, who often shot with K——g; and I am sorry to say none of “Ben’s” prejudices were removed by the kindly fellowship and good feeling usually engendered by association in field-sports. The day’s work generally commenced by “Ben’s” making a rush at his big awkward companion, and overturning him. After this feat, upon which he evidently greatly plumed himself, he would proceed to business. It happened that one of the sportsmen once knocked over a pheasant which fell outside the hedge surrounding the copse they were beating. It proved to be a runner; “Ben,” however, soon got hold of it, and was carrying it to his master in the cover, when up came the other dog wishing to assist. “Ben’s” anger was roused,—he was anxious to punish such intrusive interference—but how to manage it was the question, for if he put down the winged bird it would run into the wood, where there might be much trouble in recovering it. Quick as thought, off ran “Ben” to the middle of the large ploughed field,—there he dropped the bird,—then dashed at his lumbering rival, quickly gave him a thrashing, and afterwards started in pursuit of the pheasant, which