COLONEL CHARLES H. RAYMOND. 81 



days, took him to Michigan and shot over him, to the sur- 

 prise of the shooters there, who had never seen a field dog 

 work on feathered game and had no experience of wing 

 shooting. These things to hear I, like Desdemona, would 

 seriously incline in after years, and the fame of my Nell 

 and her progeny seemed partly mine. Young Raymond 

 gave Don to his friend, Harry Palmer, in 1856, and shot 

 over him again two years later. After Mr. Palmer's death 

 Don was sold at auction for $50, a very high price for a 

 bird dog in Michigan at that time. I had given Nell such 

 training as she had. My boyish knowledge of dog train- 

 ing must have been crude, although I did not suspect it 

 at the time, for I had read Youatt, Frank Forrester and 

 other authors, and had seen some bird dogs work, and 

 thought, boylike, that I knew it all; but Nell was not 

 broken to suit the fastidious taste of Master Raymond. 

 He next bred her to the famous Pumpelly pointer, and 

 then to a club-tailed pointer owned by a man named Ma- 

 guire, and one of the litter was a beautifully coated liver- 

 colored setter, the first one in four litters that showed the 

 blood of her sire, James Bleecker's well-known setter. 

 This puppy, Fifine, Mr. Raymond gave to Monsieur 

 Pierre Delpit, his fencing master, in 1859. 



It was in Jackson county, Michigan, where Mr. Ray- 

 mond and Don surprised the natives, and the woodcock 

 and game of all kinds abounded there. Mr. R. learned 

 to track the deer amid the oak openings, through the 

 mossy swamps around Vineyard Lake and alongthe wind- 

 ings of Raisin River. Here the early lessons of old "Un- 

 cle Henry" Harris, the famous hunter of Lake George, 

 who taught the boy to "shute rifil," found their academy 

 of graduation, and thereafter, so long as eyes held their 

 own, Charles could look with confidence along the sights 

 of a rifle at moving game. We had drifted far apart until 



