Come to the point

For lovers of traditional sport and skilled dog-work, the spectacle of pursuing grouse over pointers and setters is hypnotic and exhilarating, says Jonathan Young

- Jonathan Young

A BRACE of English setters, creamy patches in a haze of purple, are working into the wind ahead. They’re covering the moor quickly, but as effortlessly as the zephyr trembling the bell heather. Abruptly, the lead dog—the older, more experienced bitch—stops her tacking as the scent of grouse fills her nostrils. Seconds later, the younger dog also collects the waft and they lower their supple bodies, head level, to gather in and analyze the strength and direction of the smell. At this stage, they are still dog-like—but, as the scent grows hotter, they grow more feline, placing each slow step with the care of a stalking tiger. Finally, they halt. They have ‘set’ their game.

Within feet is a covey of grouse, the birds’ eyes fixed on the setter and hers on them in what seems a hypnotic trance. If unbroken, it could last for 20 minutes as prey and predator wait for the other to move first and react accordingly. However, the dogs’ handler quickly arrives, together with two guns, who position themselves on either side of the setters. The play now reaches its final act. The dog man urges his charges forward, the covey explodes from the heather and the guns select the bigger, darker cock grouse, two of which tumble by a burn to be rapidly retrieved by a grey-muzzled labrador, for retrieving is his prerogative. The brace is put carefully in the game bag and the setters flow out to find the next covey.

For lovers of wild places, wild game, and skilled dog work, harvesting game over setters and their cousins, pointers, is a sport of soul-lifting beauty and an ancient one. Peregrines, not shotguns, once worked with pointing dogs to bag grouse and still do on moors rented by falconers. Setters were used to freezing the covey as men, often poachers threw a net over it.