"Hi've 'eard it said," remarked Tom, "that an 'unting pointer can travel at the rate of eighteen miles an hour and keep it up for two or three hours, and I guess a good setter's about as fast."

"My!" exclaimed Jack, joyfully, as they walked over to the house, "do you s'pose we've got the two very best dogs in the world, Ernest?"

"I don't know," said Ernest. "Maybe."

The ardor was cooled a trifle by Mr. Hartshorn. He examined Romulus and Remus in a minute, judicial, critical manner, and discovered a number of technical points in which they fell short of perfection.

"But," he added, "they're mighty good dogs, and you must remember that no dog is absolutely perfect from the show judge's standpoint. And if these come from as fine a working strain as you have led me to believe, it is remarkable that they should measure up so well by bench-show standards. Some of the finest show champions are second-rate dogs in the field, and some of the best hunting and field-tried dogs couldn't win a yellow ribbon on the bench. I should say that your dogs gave promise of developing both working and show qualities to a marked degree, and I shall watch their careers with great interest. You have a brace of fine dogs there, and no mistake."

Whereat Jack and Ernest felt better.

"You promised to tell us something about setters and other bird dogs,"

Ernest reminded him.

"Well," said Mr. Hartshorn, "I'm not sure that I know so very much about them. I used to do a little shooting years ago, but your friend b.u.mpus undoubtedly knows a lot more about the game than I do."

"Oh, yes," said Ernest, "he does know a lot about hunting and training dogs, but I mean about the breeds themselves, their history and the sort of things you told us about some of the other breeds."

"Well," said Mr. Hartshorn, "I'll do the best I can. The development of the setter is an interesting story, but first we'll have to go back to the spaniels. Spaniels, you know, are still cla.s.sed as shooting or gun dogs, and are used for that to some extent, and the setter's ancestor was a spaniel.

"The spaniel first came from Spain or France and there are still many kinds on the continent of Europe. But the spaniel has been known for a long time in England, too, and the kinds we know here are those of British development. Mrs. Hartshorn has already told you about the English toy spaniels, so I will omit those.

"In the early days, the breeds weren't divided up as they are to-day, but were known as large and small land spaniels and water spaniels.

The oldest of the land spaniels of England now in existence is the Suss.e.x spaniel. You won't see any in the United States, I think.

"The clumber spaniel you can see in our shows, but he also is more popular among the sportsmen and fanciers of England than here. He is the heaviest of the spaniels. The c.o.c.ker spaniel is the most popular kind in this country. His name comes from the fact that he was used in England for many years for hunting woodc.o.c.k. He is smaller than the others. The field spaniel is much like a large-sized c.o.c.ker, weighing about twice as much. Finally there is the curly, brown Irish water spaniel, which is really more closely related to the retriever and the poodle than to the other spaniels.

"Though spaniels are sporting dogs, they have always been enjoyed quite as much for their companionship, and they have an enviable reputation for fidelity. There is a story told of a spaniel of the time of the French Revolution which reminds one of Greyfriars Bobby.

This dog belonged to a magistrate who was condemned for conspiracy and was thrown into prison. By means of his coaxing and pretty ways, the spaniel at last won the heart of one of the jailers and managed to get in to his master. He never left him after that, even crouching between his knees when the magistrate was guillotined. He followed the body to its burial and tried to dig into the grave. Obliged at last to abandon hope of ever seeing his master again, he refused to eat, and died at length, of hunger and exposure, on his master's grave.

"Another sad story of devotion is that of a spaniel belonging to the gamekeeper of the Rev. Mr. Corseillis of Wivenhoe, Ess.e.x, England.

This dog's name was Dash, and he was his master's constant companion at night, when he was able to render valuable service in helping to detect poachers. When the old gamekeeper died, nothing could persuade Dash to accompany his successor on his rounds. He divided his time between the grave and the room in which his master had died, and at last he, too, died of a broken heart.

"Let me give you a more cheerful one before we pa.s.s on to the setters.

Once when Mrs. Grosvenor of Richmond went to visit a relative who owned some pet cats, she took her Blenheim spaniel with her. The cats, who were selfish, spoiled creatures, were too many for the small spaniel, and they succeeded in driving him out of the house. But he refused to acknowledge defeat. He proceeded to establish an alliance with the gardener's cat, a big, husky Tom, and when the time was ripe, the two of them attacked and routed their common enemy, after which the spaniel was let alone.

"Now we come to the setters. In some respects they are our finest gun dogs. They came from one of the old land spaniels that was taught to crouch when finding game and they were called setting spaniels until about 1800. Since then the breed has been greatly improved. There are three well-known varieties, English, Irish, and Gordon, all first-cla.s.s dogs.

"A man named Laverack in Shropshire, England, was the one who did the most to develop the English setter. He bred them from 1825 to 1875 and produced the standard strain. Later a man named Llewellyn promoted the strain and added new blood. You will still hear the names Laverack and Llewellyn applied to different types of English setters. This English variety is the most popular and numerous of the three.

"I don't want to make any unpleasant comparisons, but to my mind the Irish setter is the handsomest of the family, though as a sporting dog he does not rank with the English setter. His shape is very nearly the same as that of the English setter, but his coat is always a wonderful red-brown, almost golden when the sun shines on it, often very dark, but with no black spots.

"The Gordon setter is the heaviest of the three and comes from a strain developed a century ago by the Duke of Richmond Gordon, a Scotchman. The color is always rich black and tan.

"These are not the only bird dogs, however. There are the retrievers and the pointer, besides some European breeds, but I'm going to save them for another time. I've got to get ready to catch a train now, and besides, I'm afraid of giving you this sort of information in too large a chunk."

Mr. Hartshorn bade them good-by and went upstairs. The boys remained a few minutes longer with Mrs. Hartshorn, who had taken a great fancy to Romulus and Remus, and then they set off for home in the hot sun of the afternoon.

CHAPTER IX

THE TRAINING OF ROMULUS

On the way back from Thornboro that day something happened that gave a new direction to the thoughts and aspirations of Ernest and Jack Whipple. They had gone somewhat out of their way to a woods road that was shadier and cooler than the highway and Romulus was nosing and sniffing about in the underbrush quite a little distance to the left.

Ernest whistled, but Romulus apparently did not hear. He seemed to be darting about in the bushes with unusual eagerness.

"What has he found, do you s'pose?" asked Jack.

"Let's go and see," said Ernest.

The two boys and Remus turned out of the road and approached the spot where Romulus was hunting. Suddenly there was a whir of wings and a dark object flashed upward and disappeared among the trees.

For a moment Romulus and Remus both stood rigid, with heads and tails outstretched. Then they broke and disappeared in the woods. It was some little time before the boys could get them back again and started along the homeward road. The boys, breathless with running, had not spoken to each other, but now Ernest said:

"It was some kind of a bird, Jack. Did you notice?"

"Yes," said Jack. "Why, Ernest, they know how to hunt already."

"I guess it's instinct," said Ernest. "And did you see them point?

They really did, for a minute, just like Sam's Nan, or the pictures in the books."

"Oh, Ernest," cried Jack, "we must take them hunting. Do you s'pose we could?"

"Sam could, anyway," said the older boy. "He said he'd train them."

The rest of the way home they talked of nothing but hunting and the wonderful achievements that were in store for the two dogs.

Mr. Whipple approved the plan to have Romulus and Remus trained. A good dog, in his eyes, was a dog that was good for something, and he recognized the value of a well-trained bird dog though he had no desire to see the boys become too fond of hunting themselves.

"All right," said he, "take them up to b.u.mpus and let him train them, but you boys must promise not to ask to handle a gun yourselves.

You're not old enough, for one thing, and besides, your mother doesn't approve of shooting. It's a dangerous business at best.

Remember, now, no nonsense about guns."

The boys, willing to postpone that question till some future time, readily promised, and on a Sat.u.r.day morning in September, soon after the reopening of school, they took the dogs up to Sam's shack.

"Remember," said Sam, "I ain't promisin' anything. You never can tell what kind of a bird dog a setter will make till you've tried him out.

I've got a lot of other things to attend to this fall, too. But I'll do the best I can, and you mustn't be impatient if they ain't all finished off in two weeks. Now we'll take 'em out for their first lesson."

That first lesson proved to be a rather tedious affair to Ernest and Jack. Nothing was said about birds or guns, pointing or retrieving.

Sam's chief aim was to get the dogs to obey his word and whistle as well as they obeyed those of the boys, and the latter were forced to keep silent while he gradually gained the mastery over the two lively young dogs. Sam displayed, in this, much greater patience than the boys did, but still it was pleasant to be out in the fields this fine September day and to watch the dogs as they came to respond more and more readily to the commands of their trainer. At first, indeed, there was but one command, expressed by a sharp whistle or by the words "Come here, boy!" Sam seemed determined to add no further commands until he had secured unfailing and prompt obedience to this one. But, slow as the process was, it was really remarkable what progress was made in a few short hours.

At noon they took the dogs back to the shack to enjoy a rest and a dry bone apiece, while Sam cooked and served a delicious luncheon of buckwheat cakes, bacon, and cocoa. Then, after he had enjoyed a pipe or two and they had listened to some of his tales of dogs and hunting, they started out again.

This time Sam fastened a cord of good length to the dogs' collars, something they were not used to.