Still another gives voice to his sentiment thus: I want a good tonguer, one that will give me no trouble in keeping the direction they are going. One that is a courser, that is, that never foots around trying to find every track a 'c.o.o.n makes, but keeps on finding ahead anywhere from a hundred yards to a quarter of a mile. That kind of a dog keeps you awake when cold trailing, and is apt to warm up at any time.

A Western tonguer adherent says: For 'c.o.o.n I like the cold trailer that lets you know where he is going, and don't believe they will hole any sooner for him than a still trailer, and I never saw a full blooded hound still track. My hounds give a long whoop every few rods on cold trail, and will "back brush" a 'c.o.o.n or wolf that is many hours old but will find him, and you can follow up so as to keep in hearing. My dogs are quite fast but I do not go back on a moderately slow dog to shoot after. I think they circle better.

From Indian Territory comes this addition to the testimony: The thoroughbred hound for 'c.o.o.n is my view after 40 years' experience. A good many are giving their idea as to which is best, the still trailer or the dog that gives tongue. I have never known a thoroughbred hound fail to give tongue on trail. The thoroughbred has the greatest powers of scent and this is very important as you do not have to travel so much ground to find a trail that he can run. What we want when we go after 'c.o.o.n is to start and catch all we can. If we cannot start one we cannot catch him, sure. I have followed behind over the same ground with my hound that another party had been over with their still trailers and caught more 'c.o.o.n than they.

And again if you are out on a windy night and your still trailer gets a 'c.o.o.n treed to the windward of you, you might as well go home as there will be no more fun for you if he is a good tree dog.

Now just one thing more in regard to still trailers catching 'c.o.o.n on the ground. That has not been my experience, for you all know when you go a rabbit hunting with a still trailer, how soon the rabbit will hole. He has no warning where the dog is, so in trailing 'c.o.o.n, the 'c.o.o.n will wait and listen to the hound and if he is a fast runner, Mr. 'c.o.o.n has waited too long. He must make for the nearest tree or get caught. With the still trailer, the 'c.o.o.n hears the leaves and brush snapping and without any more warning makes for his home tree.

Hundreds of hunters take this view, that is, favor the dog which barks from the time he takes up the trail. The princ.i.p.al advantage as has been pointed out, is that the hound and hunter may thus keep in closer touch, and that the hunter is treated to "music," so sweet to the ear of the average enthusiast.

Another considerable following, however, at once take issue and present an array of argument in favor of the dog which keeps his silence.

Let us first consider the views of a conservative Pennsylvania brother, in favor of the still trailer: I see a good many 'c.o.o.n hunters disagree on 'c.o.o.n dogs, still trailers vs. tongueing dogs.

Now in my experience, I have used nearly all kinds of 'c.o.o.n dogs, some good ones and some not so good. I think the difference is in the kind of country to be hunted, for hunting in a very rough country that is cut up by long hollows and large tracts of timber I prefer a tongueing dog.

For hunting in this locality where it is all cut up into small fields with princ.i.p.ally all rail fences and timber in small blocks, mostly cut over by lumbermen and nothing left but hollow trees and brush, I prefer a still trailer by long odds, as the noisy dog gives the 'c.o.o.n warning as soon as he strikes the trail, then Mr. 'c.o.o.n takes to the rail fence or a jungle of briers and old tree tops and begins to get busy and is soon in one of those hollow trees, where he is perfectly safe as far as I am concerned, for I never cut down any den trees.

The still trailer does his work quietly and is right on to the 'c.o.o.n before it is aware that the dog is after it. So Mr. 'c.o.o.n is obliged to climb whatever kind of a tree there is handy and very often is taken on the ground.

From a Central States hunter's letter: I used to be a dear lover of a dog that would bark on trail and raise some of them, but now my choice is a still trailer, as a quiet trailer suits this locality best on account of the thickly populated country and the great amount of stock raised, and a great many farmers claim the constant barking of dogs frightens their sheep. For that reason fox chasing is fast losing its interest and foxes are becoming quite a nuisance in the destruction of quail, pheasant, rabbit and such like game.

A brother of conviction on this question writes: It takes patience, perseverance and skill to properly train a hound for 'c.o.o.n. First, the dog must be silent until he finds the hot scent, so as not to give Mr. c.o.o.n time to commence his sunny ways, as the 'c.o.o.n has a good knowledge box and lots of strings to his bow which he uses to evade Mr. Hound. He will swim down and sometimes up stream and often crosses them. Will never miss a hollow log and comes out at the other end, and will climb leaning trees and leap from them to others and may return to the stream for a good long swim before he will make quietly for his den. This is what an old 'c.o.o.n will often do with a noisy dog, but with a swift and silent one he will have to climb at once and stay there.

Another telling stroke for silence: Regarding silent trailers: By silent trailer I mean a dog that will not tongue the very instant he finds an old trail when there is yet some scent, but that will work it quietly until he starts the game. I have often seen hounds roar on an old scent as well as on a new one. These dogs have generally a special gait, which they keep steady whether the trail is cold or hot, and give the full cry the whole time, and also often come to a full stop to blast away a few louder roars. These dogs dwell too long on the scent for me. My strain of dogs will open only when they are on a hot scent; if cold, they will cover the ground silently and fast.

A swift dog cannot keep up the full cry, but will give a roar now and then and not bark often as it takes a lot of wind to roar. Therefore, a dog cannot be a flyer and a roarer in the meantime, and a deer, fox, lynx or 'c.o.o.n, chased by a fleet and silent dog as above mentioned, will have to point at once for safety, and will have no spare time for tricks. The lynx or 'c.o.o.n will have to climb in a hurry the first tree he finds, while with a noisy dog Mr. 'c.o.o.n will commence with his tricks as soon as he will hear the music, and I maintain and stand ready to prove that a silent trailer as I have described will water more deer in five hours in this country than a noisy one will in five days.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "He Was Here a Moment Ago!"]

THE MUSIC OF THE HOUND.

The term "music" as applied to the barking of trailing hunting dogs, is to the uninitiated a gross misnomer.

"Isn't that music grand!" exclaimed an enthusiast afield.

"I can hear no music for the noise those dogs are making," replied the other. And so it goes.

The hound is the master orator, with a command of language that varies from uncertainty, joy, anxiety, conviction, eagerness with great clearness and truth. His shades of meaning are accurately intonated and perfectly comprehendible to the well versed hunter.

The hound is looked upon with disdain by people who know not his capabilities, and is considered in the nature of the dunce of the tribe. Well do the well informed know that he is the most delicately strung and the most highly emotional type we have.

Every note that he utters is an expression of emotion. Because emotion is more susceptible to music than any other agency, his code of expression is likened unto notes of music, and with more fidelity than some instrumental sound producers committed in the name of music.

A student of this pure and undefiled language says: "Each note represents a particular feeling, and the whole harmoniously blended, tells a simple story in a pleasing way."

Now the hound takes up the cold trail. He signals his master--there are notes of expectancy and hope in the tone. As the scent grows warmer, his tone of hope rises. He makes a loss. Could anything express regret and chagrin any more plainly than his doleful cry?

Back on the trail. Then joy again. Then comes the excited, imperative, anxious yet joyous fortissimo scale running when the quarry trees.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Here He Is!"]

He who has not been schooled in cla.s.sical music sits bored and alone at the production of an opera, or yawns and wishes he were at home in bed, as the vigorous long haired performer spells out his emotions on the piano key board. So it is that one with no ear for music of the hound is disgusted thruout the sally to the woods at night, or the fields by day. He can dwell upon nothing save the scratches, falls and efforts required, all of which another forgets in fixing his attention on the action and music of the chase.

Some hounds are better singers than others, just as is the case with people. Also he must be trained to perform pleasingly and truly. If he is well trained and is certain in his movements it will be reflected in his music. If he is faulty in foot and head work he will also betray these faults in his voice. Anxious to cover his own shortcomings, he takes to guessing and guesses wrong. He becomes a liar, and his singing is like unto the fellow with a cracked voice who insists on singing in the church choir, thereby annoying everybody.

An experienced hunter can tell by the song of a hound how capable he is, even if there were not many other ways of fixing values.

Bring up a hound under proper training methods, and he is almost certain to prove a rare musician.

If you are not versed in music of this kind, you are unfortunate, and should join the fox or 'c.o.o.n hunters and take a course of lessons. It is well worth while.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE DOG ON THE TRAP LINE.

Some trappers will take issue in regard to the advantages and disadvantages of the dog on the trap line. The subject holds sufficient interest, however, to warrant a chapter, and if some lonesome trappers benefit thereby, our effort shall stand justified.

Now, we will say first that there is as much or more difference in the man who handles the dog as there is in the different breeds of dogs. We have heard men say that they wanted no dog on the trap line with them, and that they didn't believe that any one who did want a dog on the trap line knew but very little about trapping at the best.

Now those are the views and ideas of some trappers, while my experience has led me to see it otherwise. One who is so const.i.tuted that they must give a dog the growl or perhaps a kick every time they come in reach, will undoubtedly find a dog of but little use on the trap line. We have known some dogs to refuse to eat, and would lay out where they could watch in the direction in which their master had gone and piteously howl for hours, waiting the return of the master and friend. I have seen other dogs that would take for the barn or any other place to get out of the way at the first sight or sound of their master. This man's dog is usually more attached to a stranger than to his master. The man who cannot treat his dog as a friend and companion will have good cause to say that a dog is a nuisance on the trap line.

I have seen men training dogs for bird hunting, who would treat the dog most cruelly and claim that a dog could not be trained to work a bird successfully under any other treatment. Though I have seen others train the same breed of dogs to work a bird to perfection and that their most harsh treatment would be a tap or two with a little switch. I will say that one who cannot understand the wag of a dog's tail, the wistful gaze of the eye, the quick lifting of the ears, the cautious raising of a foot, and above all, treat his dog as a friend, need expect his dog to be but little else than a nuisance on the trap line.

Several years ago I had a partner who had a dog, part stag hound and the other part just dog, I think. One day he (my partner) asked if I would object to his bringing the dog to camp, saying that his wife was going on a visit and he had no place to leave the dog. I told him that if he had a good dog I would be glad to have him in camp. In a day or two pard went home and brought in the dog. Well, when he came the dog was following along behind his master with tail and ears drooping, and looking as though he never heard a kind word in his life. I asked if the animal was any good and he replied that he did not know how good he was. I asked the name of the dog. He said, "Oh, I call him Pont." I spoke to the dog, calling him by name. He looked at me wistfully, wagging his tail. The look that dog gave me said to me as plainly as words that this was the first kind word he had ever heard.

We went inside and the dog started to follow, when his master in a harsh voice said, "get out of here." I said, "where do you expect the dog to go?" I then took an old coat that was in the camp, placed it in the corner and called gently to Pont, patted the coat and told him to lay down on the coat, which he did. I patted him saying that is a good place for Pont, and I can see that wistful gaze the dog gave me, now. After we had our supper I asked my partner if he wasn't going to fix Pont some supper. "Oh, after a while I will see if I can't find something for him." I took a biscuit from the table, spread some b.u.t.ter on it, called the dog to me, broke the biscuit in pieces, and gave it to the dog from my hand; then I found an old basin that chanced to be about the camp and fixed the dog a good supper.

After the dog had finished his supper I went to the coat in the corner, spoke gently to Pont, patted the coat, and told him to lay down on the coat. That was the end of that, Pont knew his place and took it without any further trouble.

The next morning when we were about ready to start out on the trap line I asked Pard what he intended to do with Pont. He said that he would tie him to a tree that stood against the shanty close to the door. We were going to take different lines of traps. I said, "What is the harm of Pont's going with me?" "All right, if you want him, I don't want any dog with me." I said, Am, (that was Pard's given name, for short) I don't believe the dog wants to go with you any more than you want him to. Am's reply was that he guessed he would go all right if he wanted him. I said. Am, just for shucks, say nothing to the dog and see which one he will follow. So we stepped outside the shack and the dog stood close to me.

I said, "Go on Am, and we will see who the dog will follow." He started off and the dog only looked at him. Am stopped and told the dog to come on. The dog got around behind me.

Am said, "If I wanted you to come, you would come or I would break your neck." I said, "No, Am, you won't break Pout's neck while I am around; it would not look nice."

I started on my way, Pont following after I had gone a little ways. I spoke to Pont, patting him on the head and told him what a good dog he was. He jumped about and showed more ways than one how pleased he was, and from that day until we broke camp, Pont stayed with me. He showed plainly the disgust he had for his master.

It so happened that the first trap I came to was a trap set in a spring run, and it had a 'c.o.o.n in it. I allowed Pont to help kill the 'c.o.o.n, and after the 'c.o.o.n was dead, I patted Pont and told him what great things he had done in capturing the 'c.o.o.n. Pont showed what pride he took in the hunt, so much so that he did not like to have Am go near the pelt. I saw from the very first day out that all that Pont needed was kind treatment and proper training to make a good help on the trap line.

I was careful to let him know what I was doing when setting a trap, and when he would go to smell at the bait after a trap had been set, I would speak to him in a firm voice and let him know that I did not approve of what he was doing. When making blind sets, I took the same pains to show and give him to understand what I was doing. I would sometimes, after giving him fair warning, let him put his foot into a trap. I would scold him in a moderate manner and release him. Then all the time I was resetting the trap I would talk trap to him, and by action and word teach him the nature of the trap. Mr. Trapper, please do not persuade yourself to believe that the intelligent dog cannot understand if you go about it right.

In two weeks Pont had advanced so far in his training that I no longer had to pay any attention to him on account of the traps. The third day Pont was with me he found a 'c.o.o.n that had escaped with a trap nearly two weeks before. My route called me up a little draw from the main stream. I had not gone far up this when Pont took the trail of some animal and began working it up the side of the hill. I stood and watched him until the trail took him to an old log, when Pont began to sniff at a hole in the log. He soon raised his head and gave a long howl, as much as to say he is here and I want help. After running a stick in the hole I soon discovered that the log was hollow. I took my belt axe and pounded along on the log until I thought I was at the right point and then chopped a hole in the log, and as good luck would have it, I made the opening right on to the 'c.o.o.n, and almost the first thing I saw on looking into the log was the trap. Pont soon had the 'c.o.o.n out, and when I saw it was the 'c.o.o.n that had escaped with our trap, I gave Pont praise for what he had done, petting him and telling him of his good deed, and he seemed to understand it all.

Not long after this Am came into camp at night and reported that a fox had broken the chain on a certain trap and gone off with the trap, saying that he would take Pont in the morning and see if he could find the fox. In the morning when we were ready to go Am tried to have Pont follow him, but it was no go, Pont would not go with him. Then Am put a rope on to him and tried to lead him, but Pont would sulk and would not be led. Then Am lost his temper and wanted to break Pont's neck again. I said that I did not like to have Pont abused and that I would go along with him. When we came to the place where the fox had escaped with the trap Am at once began to slap his hands and hiss Pont on. Pont only crouched behind me for protection.

I persuaded Am to go on down the run and look at the traps down that way while I and Pont would look after the escaped fox.

As soon as Am was gone I began to look about where the fox had been caught and search for his trail, and soon Pont began to wag his tail.