Twice Bitten (Three Oaks Book 9) by Gerald Hammond

Author:Gerald Hammond [Hammond, Gerald]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

I left an early call and was the first guest to breakfast.

The previous night, I had noted near the hotel a stretch of rough ground which had been left to gorse and weeds, the sort of ground beloved by environmentalists and dog trainers. After breakfast, I settled my bill and went out to the car. Ash came eagerly out into the cold air from his cosy bed in the back of the car, relieved himself in a cloud of steam against somebody else’s rear wheel and came reluctantly to heel. A spaniel, and especially one as high-spirited as Ash, must blow off steam and I was determined that any steam-blowing would be done before we came under the judges. I took him onto the waste ground and let him race around for a few minutes. When he began to show signs of wanting to hunt I brought him back under control, worked him to a pattern through the bushes and then gave him two retrieves with a canvas dummy. That, I hoped, would be enough and not too much.

At the trial ground I felt again the almost forgotten surge of excitement as the once familiar scene took shape. Competitors, openly nervous or hiding their nerves. The two judges in a solemn huddle. The Guns, happy with their role but nervous of shooting badly before so many critical eyes. Officials fussing. And the pickers-up, who would linger to look for any birds on which the competing dogs had failed, secure in the knowledge that they in their turn could fail unseen but could play a game of one-upmanship by coming back with a bird. It was ‘not done’ for a picker-up to display the bird from a successful retrieve, but it had been known for one of them to allow a bird from that or even from a previous retrieve to be glimpsed as though by accident. The pickers-up liked to consider themselves the only true professionals present.

The cumbersome line moved off across a field of stubble, with a tail of onlookers and competitors awaiting the call. Conditions were difficult. In the sharp air and rising breeze, some dogs were hot to handle and threw points to the wind. The sky was dark and the air very cold. I would have expected scenting to be adequate but it was very bad. And many birds seemed determined to sit tight instead of flushing. Dog after dog pegged a squatting bird and was eliminated.

First time ‘up’, I knew that things were going my way. Ash, having already worked off his excess energy, was nicely in hand and working a perfect pattern but he retained enough of his innate manners to disdain pegging sitting game. He flushed several birds and pulled off a good retrieve. We went through to the next round.

By mid-afternoon, Ash was among the four dogs called for a run-off. One of the first brace, I thought, performed indifferently but each managed a flush and a retrieve. Then we were called.

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