DOC LORE.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXI, Issue 67, 2 November 1911, Page 3

DOC LORE.

(By Lavcrack.)

Iloally, now, when speaking ol our show there is no need to use the prefix “Stratford,” as the very mention of the word “show” hearkens one hack to the show of shows, the Stratford Show,” entries for which close on tho 23rd November. Probably the chief attraction in the dog section of our last show was the magnificent entry in the harrier classes, exhibited by the North laranaki Hunt Club. Such dogs as Lonely and Jack are worthy of the appreciation of all beholders, possessing as they do plenty of bone, not too heavy, a round, firm neck, not too short, with a swan-like curve; a lean head with a long muzzle and fairly short oars ;a broad chest with plenty of lung room, forelegs like gun-bar-rels, straight and strong; bind legs with good things and well let down hocks; feet, round like a cat’s feet, and a wcll-sct-ou tapering stern. Such a make and shape should stave oil competition on tho bench, enable a pack so constituted to see many seasons through, and allow huntsmen to ho certain of pace and endurance during the chase. Well i remember making my debut in the hunting held, right here in Stratford some seventeen years back. On that occasion Mr J. Wilson, son of Mr Twentymnn Wilson, was deputed to lay the trail, which he did right up to tho front door of the old County Hotel. It was my misfortune to he in close proximity to the first obstacle an enthusiastic citizen of tin’s town failed to surmount on a charger specially purchased and constructed for this exhilarating sport. “Look, old chap, take him homo for. mo, there's a good fellow,” he said as I led tho horse hack to him. This suited me down to the ground; right down to tho ground in fact, as it afterwards proved, because the fractious brute formed an amalgamated society of pace aunihilators, before I could get properly seated in tho saddle. In tact, so fast did he go that I absolutely failed to keep up with him. My second /attempt to mount was more successful , and 1 was just ruminating as to whether* it enhanced my appearance if 1 rode with heels well clown in ’ the stirrups and toes high in air, or vice versa, when the quaclrup giraffed his neck, pricked his ears, and scanned the landscape in the vicinity. , Then without any further warning lie made off like an avalanche down the hillside. I resorted to science and everything known to politicians to retain my seat, and may have prolonged the agony had ho not swerved when near the bottom. Thanks to a friendly culvert 1 was enabled to get him across to rny side of tho creek. Nothing daunted, 1 again mounted, and espying some sliprails, the top bars being clown, leading on to the road, 1 decided to extinguish myself. The horse aeroplanod several flights higher than was necessary and 1, gazing down on him from a still greater height, received a vertigo and speedily descended. “Enough ! Hoodooded!” I cried. “Makutued! Tabooed and nearly Pukarned.” Surely the aftermath of such disgustious collocations of adverse eventualities was the thought that ‘‘the only horse that I was fit to ride was the one the missus dries the clothes on.” The joyful idiot arrived at this stage and remarked, “Surely you did not fall off at that little fence?” “No,” I replied, “1 got tangled up in the telegraph wires.” During the off season the harrier feels the time hang long ancT irksome, owing to the restraint placed on him, so he fills in between times with fighting and “chiming.” it is easy to discern between the two, and tlio wise master never checks a “song,” as chiming seems to give vent to their feelings, and to keep them happy and contented. The listener will get joy out of such singing if he will only listen attentively. (July a. huntsman' quite knows the intense pleasure of seeing hounds busy again as tho season comes round, and it is a splendid sight to see the puppies copy the old hounds when the latter arc feathering a line. They will join in lustily for a few minutes, then up go their heads and they will lie “on lookers” for a while. But there arc exceptions to these ordinary tactics of a beginner, and I can recall to mind some few hounds that began to ho workers from the first day they went out, taking their own initiative, and even once or twice putting the pack right when at fault. You may he very certain a huntsman never forgets such incidents, and that he -keeps a tender spot in his heart for that puppy, and will tell you with much pride: “Ho was horn to it. Ho took a line as true as steel on his first day.”

it is to he regretted that some people in their anxiety when hunting, forgot the simple laws of how to ride to hounds. lOach season finds more people following hounds who ride so t-iose on top of them, over-riding them at every turn, that all chance of good sport is spoilt. A hare doubles very quickly, often running hack a few yards over exactly the same ground that she covered in the first .instance. She will then strike off a yard or two to light or loft, and go on again. It is very easy to sec, in cases of this kind, how puzzling it is for hounds to pick up the line if they are over-ridden. Then, again, a iiaro will give a spring into the air, leaving a good space of ground untouched. This seems to he intense cunning on her part, and has perforce the result she means it to have, viz., scent failing, and hounds completely baffled for the time. And hero is another mysterious tiling about scent: You come to a gateway, or possibly a place where two ways meet. You make up your mind, when you see the hounds stop suddenly and throw up their heads, that the hare lias gone on. You try them on. Not a hound will own to the line. The only thing to he done after you have tried north, south, east and west of it, is to wait a low moments, filling up your Lime by making a big cast, making the field stand in one place as quietly as they can (they will generally talk and take off the' hounds attention if possible). Yon try the place again where they originally checked, and nine times out of ten 'the hounds will run “on” with a hurst of music. Why? You know that in all probability this will happen, but has anyone over been able satisfactorily to explain to you the reason?

There arc days in a huntsman's life, ami i am sure Mr Arthur Clifl can testify to this fact, when everything seems to go right; when hounds look to him for help he gives it, never making a mistake, he casts them just light, and if he lifts hounds they hit it oil' exactly, and lie begins to think ]u> understands scent; he has been years at his work and certain knowledge is coining to him at last. l( is all going to lie plain sailing henceforth. !s it? Alas; next hunting day things! do not go so easily, and lie has to own that scent is still a mystery, and always will he. Would tim fascination of hunting he of the absorbing interest it always has been—and still is—if the mystery of scent were ma.de clear? i venture to think not. Lb is interesting to note, in watching a pack of hounds working, which individual hounds to rely on in a tight

place. The hounds that arc to be relied on at all times have the entire confidence of tho remainder of the pack—they quickly acknowledge the right of a few to be leaders. Take, toi instance, some period of any ordinary nm when they are at fault for a moment. A single hound goes a little apart from the others. \on will see his .stern waving, his whole body vibrating, but, at present, not a sound. By this time the remainder of the pack harm all been trying hard to pick up the lino over various portions of the ground. Tho hound by himself has been trying the most unlikely fences and ditches. Surely he is wrong; and you are just going to touch your horn and blow him in when he whimpers. The whole pack, as if in- magic lift their heads and listen. He has spoken. It is enough. They go to him with a rush—they never question his right to be trusted. Hounds ire so wise, so loyal. You boar that glad pouring forth of sound as they settle down on the line once more*, and you sit down in your saddle and feel you are in for a good ride. The sad side of hunting is when vor.r best bounds grow old and others 'fill their places . Take the case of a hound who lias boon a lender ior some long lime. The days come when ho just cannot lie first, and he knows it. When be realises this, he speaks, hoping the others will still listen, hut another has spoken ahead of him, and they know that Jack is no longer their loader. Pathetic thoughts! It came hard for him at first to give place to others. He was always first in everything—in beauty of form, in perfect breeding, in absolute knowledge of tho way to Hunt a'hare under any circumstances, whether on land or in water. In the evening of his life if the meet was near the kennels, he would walk out arid take Up a central position on ground where lie knew they would hunt—he seemed as if ho know t lie run of every hare —and there ho would wait until he heard the voices of his beloved comrades coming nearer, and until they swept past him in full cry. Occasionally the spirit of tho cliase entered into him too strongly, and he would try hard to follow a few yards; but ho was too feeble to go far. And so be would sit down again and wait once more for their coining and his patience is often rewarded. Ho is at rest now, and no better hound ever lived.