Hunting

"Naru: You think that I'm not a hunter like you. That I'm not a threat. That's what makes me dangerous."

"Americans who have no problem eating and and sometimes perceive hunting as “cruel,” or insist that shooting “defenseless” deer is not a sport. In untangling various arguments about hunting, Howsare makes clear how human concepts of “innocence” or “wilderness” are inseparable from both early mythology and modern gender, class and race hierarchies. Fifteen percent of the American population participates in the traditional fall . Most of them are white males, but gender also extends into choice of quarry — the . Howsare insightfully unpacks this preference as well, proceeding to unwind modern archetypes of the practice — working-class, masculine, solitary. Like the “unspoiled wilderness” of Europeans’ dreams, this too is just a construct. The older, more collaborative methods employed by Indigenous groups were in fact more efficient for harvesting deer meat."

"If travel is searching And home what's been found I'm not stopping I'm going hunting I'm the hunter I'll bring back the goods But I don't know when"

"The mischief [the wolf] causes by his hunting might be borne, though it is considerable, if he were not impelled by his wild hunting zeal and indomitable thirst for blood to slay more than he needs for his sustenance. This renders him a curse to the flock-owner and sportsman, and makes him everybody's cordially hated enemy."

"For she maketh my hunting very certain and speedy. She hath never failed me, for almost every day this week but brought me in the right way to a deer. And this last week she brought me to a stag which myself had stricken with my bow, being forced to the soil where, with the help of a greater water spaniel that forced him out of the water, your good brach helped to pluck him down."

"You may seek it with thimbles — and seek it with care; You may hunt it with forks and hope; You may threaten its life with a railway-share; You may charm it with smiles and soap."

"Detested sport, That owes its pleasures to another's pain."

"The dusky night rides down the sky, And ushers in the morn; The hounds all join in glorious cry, The huntsman winds his horn, And a-hunting we will go."

"A shot in the dark A past lost in space Where do I start? The past and the chase You hunted me down Like a wolf, a predator I felt like a deer in the lights"

"It does not in the least matter, so far as the question of animals' rights is concerned, whether you run your victim to death with a pack of yelping hounds, or shoot him with a gun, or drag him from his native waters by a hook; the point at issue is simply whether man is justified in inflicting any form of death or suffering on the lower races for his mere amusement and caprice."

"The karma of cruelty is the most terrible of all. The fate of the cruel must fall also upon all who go out intentionally to kill God's creatures, and call it "sport"."

"Green wind from the green-gold branches, what is the song you bring? What are all songs for me, now, who no more care to sing? Deep in the heart of Summer, sweet is life to me still, But my heart is a lonely hunter that hunts on a lonely hill."

"There were three jovial Welshmen, As I have heard them say, And they would go a-hunting Upon St. David's day."

"Understanding how hunter-gatherers thrived for so long may help us identify the broad principles necessary to ensure a more sustainable future. Dealing with systemic inequality – not least, their own – would be a good place to start."

"Though I am an old horse, and have seen and heard a great deal, I never yet could make out why men are so fond of this sport; they often hurt themselves, often spoil good horses, and tear up the fields, and all for a hare or a fox, or a stag, that they could get more easily some other way; but we are only horses, and don't know."

"The English country gentleman galloping after a fox — the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable."

"The game laws are already sufficiently oppressive, and therefore ought not to be extended by implication."

"When a man wants to murder a tiger, he calls it sport: when the tiger wants to murder him, he calls it ferocity."

"Though large herds of deer do much damage to the neighbourhood, yet the injury to the morals of the people is of more moment than the loss of their crops. The temptation is irresistible; for most men are sportsmen by constitution; and there is such an inherent spirit for hunting in human nature, as scarce any inhibitions can restrain."

"While hunter-gatherers accepted that people had different skills, abilities and attributes, they aggressively rejected efforts to institutionalise them into any form of hierarchy."

"Hunting and gathering was a low-risk way of making a living. Ju/’hoansi hunter-gatherers in Namibia traditionally made use of 125 different edible plant species, each of which had a slightly different seasonal cycle, varied in its response to different weather conditions, and occupied a specific environmental niche. When the weather proved unsuitable for one set of species it was likely to benefit another, vastly reducing the risk of famine."

"As a result, hunter-gatherers considered their environments to be eternally provident, and only ever worked to meet their immediate needs. They never sought to create surpluses nor over-exploited any key resources. Confidence in the sustainability of their environments was unyielding."

"NRA: NRA freedom hotline…"

"The Field is a most agreeable Coffee-house, and there is more real society to be met with there than in any other situation of life. It links all classes together, from the Peer to the Peasant. It is the English man’s peculiar privilege. It is not to he found in any other part of the globe, but in England's true land of liberty—and may it flourish to the end of time!!"

"One knows so well the popular idea of health. The English country gentleman galloping after a fox—the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable."

"Of all things in this world, Fox-hunting is the most difficult thing to explain to those who know nothing about it."

"It was quite by chance that I should be trotting down a Cotswold lane on a friend's old pony when the uniformed centaurs came galloping past."

"It is difficult for many people today to understand how you can be bound by a code of honour and sympathy to an animal that you are intending to kill; but this is exactly what was once understood by chivalry and it is perhaps a function of sport to cultivate the spirit of chivalry in those who engage in it."

"A machine with only two products: Dog-shit and dead foxes."

"Trueman, whom for sagacious nose we hail The chief, first touched the scarce-distinguished gale; His tongue was doubtful, and no hound replies: ‘Haux!—wind him!—haux!’ the tuneful huntsman cries. At once the list'ning pack asunder spread, With tail erect, and with inquiring head: With busy nostrils they foretaste their prey, And snuff the lawn-impearling dews away. Now here, now there, they chop upon the scent, Their tongues in undulating ether spent: More joyous now, and louder by degrees, Warm and more warm they catch the coming breeze. Now with full symphony they jointly hail The welcome tidings of a surer gale; Along the vale they pour the swelling note, Their ears and dewlaps on the morning float. How vainly art aspires by rival sounds To match the native melody of hounds! Now lightly o'er opposing walls we bound, Clear the broad trench, and top the rising mound: No stop, no time for respite or recess— On, and still on, fox, dogs, and horses press.But Reynard, hotly pushed, and close pursued, Yet fruitful in expedients to elude, When to the bourn's refreshing bank he came Had plunged all reeking in the friendly stream.The chopfall'n hounds meantime are heard no more, But silent range along the winding shore. Hopeless alike the hunters lag behind, And give all thoughts of Reynard to the wind, All, save one wily rival of his art, Who vows unpitying vengeance ere they part. Along the coast his watchful course he bent, Careful to catch and wind the thwarting scent And last, to make his boastful promise good, Entered the precincts of the fatal wood. There through the gloom he leads one hopeless train, And cheers the long-desponding pack in vain; Till Ringwood first the faint effluvia caught, And with loud tongue reformed their old default.Here had the felon earthed: with many a hound And many a horse we gird his hold around: The hounds 'fore Heav'n their accusation spread, And cry for justice on his caitiff head."

"But if the rougher sex by this fierce sport Is hurried wild, let not such horrid joy E’er stain the bosom of the British fair. Far be the spirit of the chase from them! Uncomely courage, unbeseeming skill, To spring the fence, the rein the prancing steed, The cap, the whip, the masculine attire. In which they roughen to the sense and all The winning softness of their sex is lost."

"The bird, that’s fetcht from Phasis flood, Or choysest Hens of Affricke brood; These please our palats. And why these? Cause they can but seldome please. Whilst the Goose soe goodly white, And the drake yeeld noe delight, Though his wings conceited hewe Paint each feather, as if new. These for vulgar stomackes be, And relish not of raritye. But the pretious Scarus, sought In farthest clime; what e’re is bought With Shipwrackes toyle, ô, that is sweet, ’Cause the quicksands handseld it. The pretious Barbill, now groune rife, Is cloying meat. How stale is Wife? Deare Wife hath ne’re a handsome letter, Sweet Mistresse soundes a great deale better. Rose quakes at name of Cinnamon. Unles’t be rare, what’s thought upon?"

"Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those dainty pies Of venison? O generous food! Drest as though bold Robin Hood Would, with his Maid Marian, Sup and bowse from horn and can."

"God gave the horse for man to ride, And steel wherewith to fight, And wine to swell his soul with pride And women for delight: But a better gift than these all four Was when He made the fighting boar.The horse is filled with spirit rare, His heart is bold and free; The bright steel flashes in the air, And glitters hungrily. But these were little use before The Lord He made the fighting boar.The ruby wine doth banish care, But it confounds the head; The fickle fair is light as air, And makes the heart bleed red; But wine nor love can tempt us more When we may hunt the fighting boar."

"His hounds they lie down at his feet, So well they can their master keep."

"And through the woods, another way, Faint bugle-notes from far are borne, Where hunters gather, staghounds bay, Round some old forest-lodge at morn."

"A good Hound never barks on a cold trail."

"The great slow-hounds, their throats did set a base; The fleet swift hounds, as tenors next in place; The little beagles did a trebble sing, And through the air their voices round did ring, Which made such consort as they ran along, That, had they spoken words, ’t had been a song."

"And still I like to fancy that, Somewhere beyond the Styx’s bound, Sir Guy’s tall phantom stoops to pat His little phantom hound!"

"four lean hounds crouched low and smiling my heart fell dead before."

"They were the footprints of a gigantic hound!"

"A hound it was, an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog."

"Ten brace, and more, of greyhounds, snowy fair, And tall as stags, ran loose, and coursed around his chair, A match for pards in flight, in grappling for the bear. With golden muzzles all their mouths were bound, And collars of the same their necks surround."

"And first the dame came rushing through the wood, And next the famished hounds that sought their food, And griped her flanks, and oft essayed their jaws in blood. Last came the felon, on the sable steed, Armed with his naked sword, and urged his dogs to speed."

"The dusky Night rides down the Sky, And ushers in the Morn; The Hounds all join in glorious Cry, The Huntsman winds his Horn: And a-Hunting we will go."

"In dreams I see them spring to greet, With rapture more than tail can tell, Their master of the silent feet Who whistles o’er the asphodel, And through the dim Elysian bounds Leads all his cry of little hounds."

"Though Man, for centuries of care, Has taught the Hound to hunt the Hare, It's not a natural pursuit, For each was born a kindly brute."

"Of horn and morn, and hark and bark, And echo’s answering sounds, All poets’ wit hath every writ In dog-rel verse of hounds."

"Whosoever loveth me loveth my hound."

"The hindmost hound oft takes the doubling hare."

"I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot: Follow your spirit, and, upon this charge Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George!’"

"O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first, Methought she purg’d the air of pestilence; That instant was I turn’d into a hart, And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds, E’er since pursue me."

"A gentle hound should never play the cur."

"O, where doth faithful Gêlert roam, The flower of all his race, So true, so brave,—a lamb at home, A lion in the chase?"

"Hound is hungry, hare is fearful."

"An hounde is trewe to his lord or to his maystere and of good love or verrey, an hounde is of greet undirstondyng and of greet knowynge, a hound [is of] greet strength and grete bounte, an hounde is a wise beest and a kynde, an hounde hath greet mynde and greet smellyng, an hounde hath grete bisynesse and greet myght, an hounde is of greet wurthynes and of greet sotilte, a hound [is of greet] lightnesse and of greet pur[s]ueaunce, an hounde is of good obeysaunce, for he wil lerne as a man al that a man wil teche hym, a hounde is ful of good sport."

"The hindmost hound may catch the hare."

"The foremost hound grips the hare."

"Every hound is a pup until he hunts."

"In the olden days they liked a long-legged , able to run with the hunt, but such a terrier found it difficult to get to the fox. Others preferred small terriers, which they carried on the saddle. Hard-bitten little souls, with a peculiarly blunt view of pain. They helped to hold on to the saddle with their small feet, sitting there half asleep, dreaming of foxes."

"Then every nose was busily employed, And every nostril was set open wide, And every head did seek a several way To find the grass or track where the scent lay. For witty industry is never slack; ’Tis like to witchcraft, and brings lost things back."

"Sixty or seventy of them, large and small, smooth and shaggy—deer-hound, boar-hound, blood-hound, wolf-hound, mastiff, alaun, talbot, lurcher, terrier, spaniel—snapping, yelling and whining, with score of lolling tongues and waving tails."

"See how the well-taught pointer leads the way: The scent grows warm; he stops; he springs the prey; The fluttering coveys from the stubble rise, And on swift wing divide the sounding skies; The scattering lead pursues the certain sight, And death in thunder overtakes their flight."

"The dog in the doghouse barks at his fleas, the dog that hunts does not feel them."

"Till then in every sylvan chase renown’d, With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around; With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn, Or traced the mazy leveret o’er the lawn. Now left to man’s ingratitude he lay, Unhoused, neglected in the public way; And where on heaps the rich manure was spread, Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed."

"Don’t you hear the yapping of the dogs— The yapping and the yelping of the dogs?"

"Ἦ σεῦ καὶ φθιμένας λεύκ᾿ ὀστέα τῷδ᾿ ἐνὶ τύμβῳ ἴσκω ἔτι τρομέειν θῆρας, ἄγρωσσα Λυκάς· τὰν δ᾿ ἀρετὰν οἶδεν μέγα Πήλιον ἅ τ᾿ ἀρίδηλος Ὄσσα Κιθαιρῶνός τ᾿ οἰονόμοι σκοπιαί."

"A heedless dog is not fit for hunting."

"A heedless dog will not do for the chase."

"Bon chien chasse de race."

"A well-bred dog hunts by nature."

"The dog who hunts foulest, hits at most faults."

"And over all, a Counterpane was plac’d, Thick sown with Furs of many a Savage Beast, Of Bears and Lions, heretofore his Spoil; And still remain’d the Trophies of his Toil."

"Mounted on panthers’ furs and lions’ manes, From rear to van they scour about the plains."

"Was there any more repellent sight than a silly, self-centred, greedy woman clad in the skin of a beast so much more splendid than herself?"

"... If we can't be cordial to these creatures' fleece, I think that we deserve to freeze."

"It is really a joy to slip furs around a beautiful, luxurious woman, to see and feel how her neck, her lovely limbs snuggle against the costly soft furs, to lift the stray locks of her hair, and place them outside the collar, and when she takes off her cloak and the cosy warmth and the subtle scent of her body lingers on the tips of the sable, the effect is overpowering."

"’Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and furred with fox on lambskins too, to signify that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing."

"This night, wherein the cub-drawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinchèd wolf Keep their fur dry."

"Tipt with jet, Fair ermines, spotless as the snows they press; Sables, of glossy black; and dark-embrown’d, Or beauteous freakt with many a mingled hue, Thousands besides, the costly pride of courts."

"Immers’d in furs, Doze the gross race."