A Shooting Catechism or the Essential Guide to the Etiquette and Knowledge of English Game Shooting

INDEX

A SHOOTING CATECHISM

INTRODUCTION

THERE can be little doubt that shooting is the most popular sport, and though fishing must be approaching it in the number of its votaries—so rapidly have those of the latter increased in recent years—it must still be admitted that shooting continues to hold the premier place.

There is no comparison whatever from a social point of view under modern conditions, for though in wild out-of-the-way districts a keen man may obtain excellent sport after the manner of our forefathers with his gun and his dog, this is not the method generally followed. If such conditions were essential the sport would undoubtedly suffer in public estimation, for very many now engage in it in order to enjoy a social day happily spent.

It is frequently thrown in the teeth of modern shooters that they cannot be such good sportsmen as their ancestors, because they are so much more luxurious in their habits; have their game frequently driven to them instead of walking after it, and usually make much larger bags. There is really nothing in these contentions. The same man that is in the very first rank amongst the crack shots at a grouse drive on a stormy day, or at fast high rocketers at a big cover shoot, may equally enjoy a day after snipe, or a walk with setters on the hillsides. There is nothing particularly characteristic of sport in pulling out of your pocket a crust of bread and cheese, and eating it under a hedge, or as you walk along! If so, the first tramp that you meet on the road must be a grand sportsman; but if you ask him his opinion he will probably state that he would prefer a more luxurious meal, even at the expense of his newly-acquired reputation as a sporting character, which he may still further enhance if one of the necessary qualifications is to tire yourself by a long walk!

But if partridges become so wild that when the sportsman enters one end of the field all the game retires out of the other end far out of shot, surely it is wiser to ensconce yourself under a hedge, and allow the birds to be driven past you. Not only do they then fly within distance, but they come at a pace, and at such various angles, that they offer much more difficult—and therefore sporting—shots than when they rise at your feet, as in shooting over dogs or when walking them up.

If it is held there is a greater degree of sport in making small bags rather than large ones, it can easily be shown that such a doctrine, carried to its logical conclusion, would mean that the highest form of sport would be when the bag consisted of nothing at all. A reductio ad absurdum that surely would have delighted Euclid, had such an idea crossed his imagination. It is because our ancestors are supposed to have enjoyed their shooting to the accompaniments of crusts of bread, long walks, and small bags, that we are taunted with being degenerate when we make any departure from such practices; but the vastly different conditions under which they followed this pursuit is hardly sufficiently taken into consideration.

The lack of facilities of travel and the costliness of it in former days kept people very much at home, and they were, therefore, dependent for sport upon what they could obtain on their own estates and in their immediate neighbourhood. They did not, therefore, wish to kill all their game at once, but required the native stock to afford them diversion all through the season, while pre-serving was almost unknown. It was seldom that whole days were spent in shooting, the squire instead going out by himself, or with a friend, for an hour or two just whenever he felt inclined, accompanied only by a man to carry the game, and trusting to the setters or pointers to find it for them. It was the fashion of that time to dine very early in the afternoon, hence no lunch—or, anyhow, only a very frugal one—was requisite; and as they had to desist in good time from their sport to be ready for dinner at three or possibly four o’clock, there was every reason why the ordinary bag should be a small one. Nowadays people are whirled in express trains and motor cars all over the kingdom, and many want to have a few big days, ask a large party of friends, shoot all their game at once, and then leave it entirely at peace until another season, while they rush off to enact the same proceedings at the homes of those who have just been assisting them at their own shoot. Modern dining hours make it imperative to have a substantial luncheon in the middle of the day, as the interval between breakfast and dinner is far too long to fast the entire time, and it would scarcely seem hospitable to offer a large party only bread and cheese!

It is, indeed, more than probable that the average gun met with at an ordinary shooting party would not know how to handle a brace of setters to the best advantage—we may even go further, and say that not many of the party are likely to have even seen partridges shot over dogs—and in this branch of woodcraft would have to confess themselves inferior to their forbears, through lack of opportunity of learning how to work dogs that range and point. But then, on the other hand, those same ancestors would certainly have made a failure of a partridge drive if they had suddenly been called upon to inaugurate one, for it requires a large amount of natural aptitude, aided by long and close study of the habits of the game besides practice, to achieve that success we now so frequently see and admire.

In actual skill in handling a gun we have undoubtedly made vast strides, and those old sportsmen would certainly cut a very poor figure at driven birds if pitted against the average shot of the present day; though it is quite possible that some of their very best might have held their own against anybody that could now be produced, even with the advantage of modern weapons.

When praising the old method of shooting it is generally taken for granted that then every sportsman had perfect dogs, and was an adept in using them; but a very long experience in seeing persons of every grade trying to work dogs of every description forces it upon my mind that the really skilful handler of pointing dogs must have been quite as exceptional an individual as is the clever worker of a retriever at the present day. The nuisance of shooting over disobedient pointers or setters was even more accentuated than is now the case with regard to a badly broken retriever, for he at any rate can be relegated to a lead. This, however, was quite impossible for a dog that ranges, and though the latter can be attached to a long trash-cord, the pleasure of the day was necessarily much diminished, and the owner of the dog had need to be always on the alert, and be very active, to be in time to seize the cord of a determined offender before he had time to flush the birds out of shot. Experto crede!

These points must all be taken into consideration when comparisons are instituted between the rival styles. It is, however, freely admitted that the pursuit of game with the help of pointers, setters, or spaniels has a greater resemblance to hunting, and therefore appeals more powerfully to that spirit of the chase which we inherit from our savage ancestors than does shooting at driven birds.

Often unbeknown to the individual, because there never has been a chance of exercising it, yet deep buried within his breast, lies a love of hunting that causes the face to flush and the blood to tingle when the opportunity offers, and is the common heritage of every one, whether descended from Norman, Saxon, Dane, or ancient Briton.

Though the ancient methods of taking winged game by net, snare, or falcon had a serious rival in the cross-bow, it was not till firearms were skilfully fashioned that shooting gradually ousted the former from their pre-eminence. It must, however, be remembered that William Rufus met with his death from a bolt from a cross-bow in A.D. 1100, from which it would appear that such weapons were carried by hunting parties at that early date. Firearms came into use for sporting towards the close of the seventeenth century. In an interesting letter to his mother my ancestor, Robert Fairfax, wrote as follows from Plymouth on October 28, 1690, a few days before he was promoted Post Captain, and appointed to the command of the Conception: My diversion will be to walk into the fields with a gun.

There is one thing that must be mentioned as inimical to all true sport—the spirit of gambling, which is the curse of the age. To win a trifling bet, or to carry off a paltry sweepstakes, many a man is induced to perform an action that he would be ashamed of doing, if it was not to gain a success in something quite foreign to the pursuit of the moment, and which makes the winning of money the object in view instead of sport. A sweepstakes for the first grouse of the year, the first woodcock, or mayhap the largest bag of the day, are equally to be deprecated; for though in themselves they seem harmless enough, yet they cause a too eager gun to shoot unfairly, taking his neighbour’s bird, and very likely blowing it to pieces the moment it rises, shooting a bird crouching on the ground, and doing various other unsportsmanlike acts that even if they bring success, must leave some bitterness behind. The man who cannot derive sufficient pleasure from any pursuit to thoroughly enjoy it without having money on is nothing but a gambler, and cannot be considered deserving of being esteemed a sportsman.

Sometimes such proceedings may have their humorous side, which is, however, no argument in their favour! One incident of the kind remains ever very vivid in my mind, that took place many years ago not far from beautiful Loch Maree, on the wild, picturesque coast of Ross-shire, beloved of seals and blue-rock pigeons.

We were about to commence the season by shooting over a splendid team of Gordon setters—the real Gordons, black, white, and tan, and black and white—for we had the run of the kennel of Mr. Osgood Mackenzie, who divided the original breed of the old Duke of Gordon with the late Sir Frederick Milbank and the late Mr. King, of Ballylin, in King’s County, Ireland, when the famous kennel was dispersed at the Duke’s death—and it was proposed that there should be a sovereign sweepstake for the first grouse killed. It was not long before there was a very steady point rather a long way ahead on some rising ground, and our party of three pressed up the hill, each of us hoping that he would be the lucky one to obtain the shot. The grouse had run on—as they are so apt to do in an eagle- and peregrine-haunted district, where what is most feared are the enemies in the sky—and as we panted up the hill after the setters, who were steadily drawing on, the meanderings appeared to favour first one of the party and then another, and kept us all on the qui vive.

I happened to be the left-hand gun, while the one in the centre was an old friend—alas! no longer living—who was very keen to be the victor, and to whom at last an excellent chance presented itself. After following for some three hundred yards, until, indeed, we were almost beginning to think that the grouse were going to slip us after all and rise out of sight, suddenly the old cock jumped up on a rock in front of the colonel in the centre and well within shot. Under the circumstances I never doubted for a moment that he would shoot the bird as he stood flirting his tail, and uttering warning notes to the others while apparently preparing to take immediate flight. Colonel G——, however, though he half put up his gun, felt ashamed of thus winning the sweep and managed to restrain himself, shooing vigorously at the grouse to make him take wing instead of shooting him.

The ensuing move in the game was that the muir-cock deliberately hopped off the rock and disappeared from view on the other side of the knowle, and the next that we saw of him, after hurrying up the slope, was that he had been joined by the rest of the pack, some four or five in number, and all were scurrying through the rather scanty ling at a rapid pace, evidently thinking they were going to escape by running. They were still in front of the colonel, and he did his best to overtake them, though age did not permit him to travel very fast. The distance between them began to be sensibly diminished, when all of a sudden the nearest one rose and rapidly flew in a half-circle round the colonel, who promptly put up his gun to shoot. So close, however, did the grouse keep to him that he did not fire, either because he was afraid of blowing it to pieces, or else because he was unable to take aim, and when the bird had come round almost in line with me it changed its direction and flew almost straight at my head. "Lie down! roared the colonel. Duck! Lie down!" Not an inch did I budge, however, but stood erect as firm as the rock to his intense indignation, while he remained with his gun pointing at us, his finger on the trigger yet not daring to shoot, till at length the bird had passed me, and then I turned and quickly shot it.

It is seldom that a man who has lived a long life is so put out as the colonel was, and he could not be pacified. It was not the money that he was thinking of, for he was a rich man, had no children, was well advanced in life, and there was nothing sordid about him. Nor yet was it exactly the loss of the shot. If it had been just an incident in an ordinary day’s shooting it would have passed more for an amusing occurrence than otherwise! Yet the mere fact that there was money on changed the whole aspect of the affair and flavoured it with great bitterness. At first the colonel declared that he would not pay his stake, as he did not consider he had lost it fairly, so I at once offered to cry quits until he insisted I ought to pay him! This was a novel view of the case that took me quite aback! Just then we were joined by our host, the third gun, who, ridiculing the idea of the sweep not having been fairly won, promptly paid up his share of the stake. The colonel, however, could not make up his mind to follow his example on account of his mortification, and in fact did not do so for a day or two, while there was a perceptible coolness in his manner for some time, which I seemed unable to remove. All this was due to the baneful influence of money, which had so detracted from the harmony that should be the inseparable companion of sport; and though it may be argued that people should be above such trivialities, still human nature ever is human nature! We have to take people as we find them; and there is nothing more true than an old Yorkshire saying, a great favourite of my dearest mother, that there’s nowt so queer as folk!

The moral of this story is that it is not judicious to appeal to the sporting and gambling instincts at the same time!

CHAPTER I

SHOOTING ETIQUETTE

THERE are many unwritten laws to be observed when shooting, that tend much to the enjoyment of the day’s sport if observed, but which may completely mar the harmony of the party if broken, either through wantonness or ignorance. They may to a large extent be defined as consisting chiefly of regulating the behaviour in the same strict manner that good taste would suggest in any other position in life; and yet, strange to say, it is by no means an uncommon thing with some individuals to entirely forget good manners when once the party has begun the business of the day! In most cases, however, it probably results more from thoughtlessness than selfishness, while the excitement of the sport added to a keen sense of rivalry prevents many a good fellow from quite realising that he is in fault, more especially if he has never had to organise a party himself, and has not had the difficulties of doing so brought forcibly home to him.

In the most elementary forms, such