THE BUNTING Doc 



3 6 1 



else, in judging for himself, he is apt to be in- 

 fluenced almost, if not entirely, by the amount of 

 game found or killed. To "start right" with a 

 shooting dog, one may either purchase a good 

 puppy and have him broken, or else buy a broken 

 dog; but in either case, a certain amount of atten- 

 tion should be paid to the dog's conformation and 

 general appearance. Theoretically, the same 

 rules may be observed as when picking one for the 

 bench. The correct bench show head is indicative 

 of much sense which is an important factor in the 

 "make up" of the field dog. The deep chest is a 

 good thing and the strong loins and quarters are 

 as essential as sound feet and legs on a long day 

 over rough country. There is, however, a slight 

 difference in the practical application of these 

 rules. There is many a good field dog, with a head 

 that is as different as it is from a hound; but all the 

 good ones have got plenty of brain room. Avoid 

 a dog with a misshapen skull; nine times out of ten, 

 it will show in his work. In chest formation, good 

 field dogs are often rounder, and not so deep, as 

 their show brethren. In fact, deep-chested ones 

 are apt to be fiat-ribbed, which must be avoided. 

 In back and loin formation there is a great differ- 

 ence. This year's champion, Pioneer, has a 

 back and quarters like a greyhound, as have also, 

 many of the best field trial pointers; and yet, 

 Jessie Rodfield's Count Gladstone, who is as 

 fast as the best of them, is quite fiat over the loin 

 and hips. The point which they have in common, 

 however, is strength. Put your hand on their 

 backs, and their is no flinching nor swaying. Need- 

 less to say, their feet and legs are sound; so, when 

 when you look to the appearance of your field dog, 

 see that the lines of his back and quarters indicate 

 strength, and that they stand straight on their legs 

 and feet. In the field dog, the bend of the hind leg, 

 from hip to hock, should be, theoretically, quite 

 pronounced, but this need not be insisted upon, 

 as there is plenty of speed and strength in the 

 straight hind leg. 



Before buying a field dog, it is well, if possible, 

 to see him at work under different conditions. A 

 dog for use in the South on quail should be tried 

 out in big open country, and also in the cover on 

 singles. And it is quite as important to see how 

 he handles his ground when birds are scarce as it 

 is to note his work on the birds themselves. The 

 woodcock and partridge dogs should have a chance 

 to show their obedience and bird sense under diff- 

 erent climatic and atmospheric conditions. Don't 

 buy a dog that creeps up to his game, nor one that 

 is beyond control as soon as a gun is fired. You 

 are supposed to be buying a broken dog, and there 

 is no pleasure in handling a false pointer or a shot- 

 breaker. Pick out one that goes boldly to his 

 game, and makes high-headed upstanding points. 

 Remember that it is a case of "starting right," and 

 that one good one will produce others, while noth- 

 ing but trouble can result from starting with a bad 

 one. 



matter was well treated of by Mr. L. F. Brown, a 

 frequent contributor to Recreation^ by the bye, 

 in his talk to the members of the Canadian Game 

 Club at their last annual meeting in New York. 

 Some of his word pictures will conjure up delight- 

 ful memories to many of our readers: 



And when the twilight and evening redden the ramp fin-, 

 the darkness deepens the mystery of the woods, and that sky 

 gets spangled through its veil; and puffs of smoke pungi al 

 with burning balsam make the nose and throat tingle (I can 

 smell that smoke now!); and circling patches of foam out on 

 the black eddy of the pool come advancing into the firelight, 

 pass and recede into gloom, the watchers by the fire revel in 

 it all. 



Far along in the night (as you replace the fallen brands, and 

 may get your face heated and your hands black), you notice 

 that sounds in the woods are not so much noises as they are 

 fragments of the stillness ! And then you hardly escape waking 

 dreams. You are with the earth — not with wayfarers upon 

 it — with nature, not human nature; under the spell of that 

 sound of falling water and the mystery of this wilderness — the 

 night fragrance and sighing branches of these solemn pines. 

 Do not the quiet trees and plants claim fellowship and brother- 

 hood, and welcome you as their guest? You know, you know 

 they are glad you are with them. You are led through Nature's 

 visible beauty into the presence and source of her vital, invisi- 

 ble beauty, and know something of its meaning in the cry of 

 that whippoorwill, in the laughter of loons out on the lake, or 

 in the far-off bellow of a moose ; something of what was meant 

 by the song, together, of those morning stars; that the ordained 

 elevation of the land gives motion to that trout-stream — 

 makes it seek the ocean and adorn every white cascade with its 

 own little shower of tossing water-pearls, tossing to the water- 

 music — and over all its ripples it is telling an endless story to 

 its own self with ten thousand smiles and dimples out yonder 

 and away in the dark! You commune with woods and 

 streams, lakes and mountains through night and day, while 

 Nature, for you, puts on robe after robe woven of sunshine and 

 shadow, the moonlight and the starlight, and changing forms 

 and colors of drifting cloud-ranges whose raindrops touch your 

 face as if to smooth the wrinkles and check the advance of age . 

 O, sir, that is what we love — the mysterious presences that we 

 call Nature — unfenced Nature, God's Nature! We behold her 

 best when in great woods and by remote waters, gathering 

 nightly beside the camp-fire. And that is why we bring sprays 

 of Canadian evergreen to these white tables and ask you to 

 wear them over your hearts; for each spray contains a fragrant 

 message from the big North Woods. That is why so many 

 sportsmen shoot and fish less and less, and look, love and use 

 the camera more and more; and why an antlered caribou, a 

 bugling elk, or a bighorn sheep, standing upon crags above 

 glaciers, may have his beauty of life spared to him in his own 

 fastnesses. For wild life is the last touch of the divine in 

 Nature. 



The Glorious Camp Fire 



The greatest institution of a camp is undoubted- 

 ly the camp-fire, and we think that this important 



Fishing 



BY JAMES BUCKHAM 



•A rod, 



A line, 

 A hook, 



A sign : 

 "Notice! No fishing here." 

 A flash, 



A shout, 

 A strike, 



A trout! 

 An irate farmer near. 



" See that 



Sign, kid?" 

 "Of course 



I did!" 

 "Why don't you git, then — spry?" 

 "Because" 



(A grin; 

 More line 



Dropped in) 

 "I knew it was a lie!" 



