Cynegeticus

Chapters of Arrian's Cynegeticus.

Preface, in which Arrian also undertakes to state the things omitted by Xenophon.

That Xenophon did not know the Celtic hounds, nor those like them.

On the Celtic hounds, and what their appearance is. 4. On the signs by which one must judge the swift hounds, and the contrary.

On the author's own hound, what kind she was.

On colours, and that it makes no difference what colours they have.

On the disposition of hounds, what its signs are. 8. On how one must judge the quality of hounds from their feeding.

On with what and how one must bed the hounds.

That rubbing is beneficial to hounds, and how one must rub them down. 11. That it is better for hounds to be tied up than to be loose.

On for how long of the day one must lead the hounds out, and how many and what kind one must loose together.

On how often, in winter or summer, one must feed the hounds. 14. On at what season one must lead the hounds out to the hunt.

(19) How and when the Celts hunt.

(15) On the distance from which one must loose the hounds on the hare, and how many of them.

(16) On hares, and what their excellence is. 18. (17) That to call back the hounds in the hunts is good for them.

(18) That one must stroke and praise the hound that has contended well.

How those who have not learned where the game is must go out to the hunt.

On how the Celts hunt.

That one must not loose hounds on newborn game.

How one must hunt deer or any other very large beast.

How the Libyans take the great beasts with horses.

On from what age one must lead out the female hounds to the hunt.

On male hounds, from what age one ought to lead them out to the hunt.

How one must bring the hounds to breeding.

That, if anyone should watch the mating of the hounds, it is not brought to a fruitful issue.

On the season suited to whelping.

How, after the birth, one must bring back the hounds to their original running.

On the things Xenophon prescribes about rearing.

The differences of the male and the female hound.

That hunters must sacrifice to Artemis.

On the custom of the Celts and the offering they make to Artemis.

An exhortation to sacrifice to the overseers of the pursuits among men.

Testimonies from Homer, that one must sacrifice to the discoverers of things in the practising of them.

By Xenophon the son of Gryllus it has been told what good things come to men from hunting, and how those who were taught this teaching under Chiron were both dear to the gods and held in honour throughout Greece; and it has been told too in what respect the art of hunting resembles the science of war, and at what age one must come to the work, and of what sort one ought to be in body and in mind; and concerning hunting-nets and toils and road-nets, what kind one must prepare, and how to set snares for the beasts, all that are taken by the snare.

And concerning hares too it has been told, what their nature is, and how they feed and where they make their forms, and how one must seek them out; and concerning hounds, which are clever at tracking and which are poor, and how one must judge each kind both from their appearance and from their performance.

There are also some things said about the hunting of boars and deer and bears and lions, 4. how they are taken by skill and craft. But whatever seems to me to be wanting in his account—not through carelessness but through ignorance of the Celtic breed of hounds and of the Scythian and Libyan breed of horses—these things I shall tell, being of the same name as he, and of the same city, and having from my youth been zealous about the same things: hunting and generalship and wisdom. 5. Since he himself too thought it right to write down what had been deficiently said by Simon about horsemanship—not out of rivalry with Simon, but because he knew it would be useful to men.

That he did not know the Celtic breed of hounds, I for my part think there is no need even of proofs; for the peoples of Europe, all those settled there, were unknown, except for those parts of Italy that the Greeks held, or those with whom they had dealings by sea for trade. 2. And that he did not know any other breed of hounds which resembles the Celtic in swiftness, one may judge from the following. For he says that all the hares which are taken by hounds are taken against the nature of their body or through having met with chance. 3. But if he had known the Celtic hounds, he would, I think, have declared this same thing about the hounds: that all the hares which the hounds do not take by speed of foot, they do not take against the nature of their body or through having met with chance. For those hounds that are good in body and noble in spirit—these no hare would ever escape, unless some difficult ground should come between, or a wood concealing it, or a hollow and deep burrow taking it away, or a trench affording it the chance to run across out of sight. 4. From there, I suppose, he goes on in his account to how one must drive the hare onto the toils, and, if it should run past the toils, how one must follow after it and find it again by the track, until it is taken, having given up from exhaustion. 5. But that he who has acquired good hounds needs neither toils nor to seek out the escaped hare—this he nowhere made clear, but expounds only that kind of hunting which the Carians and the Cretans hunt.

The Celts too hunt, leaving aside the toils—those of them at least who do not live by hunting—for the sake of the very beauty in the hunt. For there is among them too a breed of hounds no less clever at tracking than the Carian and Cretan, but in appearance distressing and brutish. 2. And these too track with clamour and barking, just as the Carian hounds bay. But these become even more frantic when they catch the scent; and there are times when they grow over-excited even at stale trails. 3. So that I for my part found fault with them for the great amount of their clamour, and for its being the same at every track, at the running scent no less than at the form. 4. But at following after and finding again the beast they have started, they are no worse than the Carian or the Cretan hounds, except in respect of speed. It is something to be content with, then, if in the winter season they should kill even a single hare; so great a respite for resting do they afford it—unless somehow it should be taken, having grown frantic, by the noise of the hounds. These hounds are called Segusiae, having their name from a Celtic people among whom, as it seems to me, they first arose and gained their reputation. 5. But about these, whatever one might set down in an account would be saying things already said by Xenophon of old; for they show nothing peculiar or different in seeking out or following after, except, perhaps, if one should wish to speak of their appearance, of which it seems to me not worth saying anything but this only: that they are shaggy and poor to look at, and the noblest of them are the poorest. So that he wins approval among the Celts who likened them to the beggars along the roads. For indeed their voice is mournful and pitiful, and they do not bay at the beast in the tracking as if in anger, but as if lamenting and entreating. 6. About these, then, no one, it seems to me, would set down anything worth even mention. But the swift Celtic hounds are called in the Celtic tongue vertragi—not from any people, as the Cretan or Carian or Laconian, but, just as among the Cretan hounds the laborious are called so from their love of toil, and the keen ones from their sharpness, and the mixed ones from both, so 7. these too are named from their swiftness. In appearance they are a beautiful thing—the noblest of them—in their eyes and in their whole body and their coat and their colour: so that in the dappled ones the dapple shines out, and in those of a single colour, this too gleams, and it is a most pleasing sight to a man fond of hunting.

I too will tell from what signs one must judge the swift and noble ones, and to what a man, attending his mind, may set apart the ignoble and slow among them. 2. First, then, let them be long from head to tail; for you would find no single sign of swiftness and nobility so reliable, picking out the same in every kind of hound, as length, and the contrary—shortness—as a sign of slowness and ignobility. So that I myself have already seen hounds that had many other faults, yet, because they happened to be long, were swift and high-spirited. 3. And indeed the larger ones too, even if in other respects they should be poor, are by their very size of better natural parts than the small. Poor among the large ones are those whose limbs are loose-jointed and ill-proportioned; so that, being thus, they would be poorer than the small, if equal other faults attached to them. 4. Let them have light and well-jointed heads; whether they be hook-nosed or snub-nosed will make no great difference; nor, if they have sinewy parts beneath the forehead, is this to be reckoned a great matter. But the heavy-headed alone are poor, and those whose muzzles are thick and end not in a point but all at once. 5. Let the eyes be large, set high, clear, bright, striking the beholder. And best are the fiery and flashing, like those of leopards or lions or lynxes; second to these, the black, if they should be wide open and fierce to look at; third, the grey-blue; for the grey-blue are not poor either, nor signs of poor hounds, if they should be clear and fierce to look at.

Indeed, I myself reared a grey-blue hound, as grey-blue as could be, and she was both swift and fond of toil and good-spirited and good of foot, so that she once even held out, in her prime, against four hares. 2. And in other respects she is most gentle—for she was still with me when I wrote this—and most affectionate; and no other hound before her so longed for me, or for my companion and fellow-hunter Megillus. For when she ceased from the chase, she would no longer leave either of us. 3. But if I were indoors, she would pass her time with me, and escort me when I went out anywhere, and accompany me when I went to the gymnasium, and sit beside me while I exercised, and go before me as I returned, often turning round, so as to make sure I had not somewhere turned aside from the road; and seeing me and smiling, she would again go on before. 4. And if I went to some public business, she would be with my companion, and do these same things toward him. Whichever of us was sick in body, she would not leave that one. And if she should see us even after a short interval, she would call out, as if greeting us fondly. And being with me at dinner, she would touch me now with one foot, now with the other, reminding me that I ought to give her too a share of the food. And indeed she was many-voiced, as I do not think I have ever seen another hound to be; and whatever she wanted, she signified by her voice. 5. And because, when a pup, she had been punished with the whip, if anyone should so much as name the whip to this day, she comes up to the one who named it, and crouching down entreats him, and fits her mouth to his mouth as if kissing him, and leaping up hangs upon his neck, and does not let go before she has made the angry one cease from his threat. 6. So that I do not think I should hesitate even to set down the name of the hound, that it may be left to later time too: that Xenophon the Athenian had a hound, Horme by name, most swift and most clever and most gentle.

Let the ears of the hounds be large and soft, so that from their size and softness they appear bent over: thus they would be best. Yet even if they should be upright, it is no fault, unless they be also small and hard. 8. Let the neck be long and rounded and supple; so that if you should pull the hounds backward from the throat, the neck should seem bent over from its suppleness and softness. 9. Broad chests are better than narrow; and let them have their shoulder-blades standing apart and not fixed together but, as far as possible, free from one another. Legs round, straight, well-knit; ribs noble; loins broad and strong, not fleshy but knit with sinews. Flanks loose, hips not bound together, the lower belly lean. Tails thin and long, shaggy in their hair, supple and easily bent, the tip of the tail shaggier. 10. The thighs long and well-knit. As for the legs: if they should have the hind ones larger than the fore, they would run the uphill courses better; if the fore larger than the hind, the downhill. 11. If both should be equal, the level. And since it is harder not to be beaten by the hare on an uphill course—because the hare too runs the uphill better—those hounds seem nobler that have the hind parts larger than the fore; and the feet that are round and firm are best.

The colours will make no difference, whatever they be, not even if they should be wholly black or tawny or white; nor let it be a sign of a poor hound that the colour is single. But let the eyes be gleaming and clear, and the coat—whether the hounds should be of the shaggy breed or the smooth—let it be fine and dense and soft. 2. Best among males are those which, being large and well-knit, yet from their suppleness resemble females; and among females, those which, from the nobility and muscularity of their body, resemble males. 3. As for the body, then, one would seem to me, examining these things, to make sufficient signs of nobility, and the contrary of the contrary. But no less will the disposition of the hounds afford signs in either direction to him who looks as he ought.

For instance, all hounds that are sullen toward everyone are not noble; but if there are some you should find harsh toward strangers yet affectionate toward the one who rears them, this is good rather than bad. 2. I have already known a hound which at home was downcast and took no joy in any of those near her; but being led out to the hunt she was overjoyed, and by smiling and fawning upon everyone who approached made it plain that she was distressed at staying at home. 3. And this is good. Best are the most affectionate, and those to whom the sight of no man is strange. But those that fear men and are startled by noise and are skittish and move about over many things and at random—and these are marks of senseless and witless creatures—just as the cowardly and witless among men, so too such hounds could never be noble. 4. Bad too are those that, loosed from the lead in a place, do not return to the one leading them when called, but bound off; and if you call them gently, they despise it, but if with threats, they are afraid and do not approach. 5. But the hound ought, after bounding off and running round, to return to the keeper, even if he does not call her, signifying that she is able to obey if she wishes; and further, if she be not caught, let her bound off again, and again return. 6. Well-trained are those which, when the keeper calls out, crouch down—not from fear, but greeting and honouring their feeder, just as those who do obeisance to the Great King. Nor is it good for a hound, loosed in a plain, to stand still, unless she happen to be rather old; for it signifies sluggishness. 7. The noblest have also a frown over the brows, and appear haughty, and their gait is light and quick and delicate; and they shift from side to side, and stretch up the neck, just as horses do when they show themselves off.

Some hounds eat greedily, others decorously, and the 2. decorous is nobler than the indecorous. Good are those that are not bad feeders, but take pleasure in bread or barley-cake; for this is the best food for a hound, and there is no fear that she be overfilled from it. It is better if they should take pleasure in dry food. But if you should also soak it with water and they take pleasure in this too, it is no bad thing. 3. To a sick hound throw either water from fat meat, or an ox's liver roasted in hot ashes, then ground up and sprinkled on like barley-meal. 4. And for those being weaned this is good, for knitting the limbs, when they have ceased from the milk. It is best to suckle them on milk to the ninth month and further; and for a sick and ailing hound both drink and food are good, but fasting too is good for a sick one. And there is nothing like a soft and warm bed.

Best is the bed with a man, because they are made affectionate, and take pleasure in the human skin, and love the one who sleeps with them no less than the one who feeds them. And one might perceive any of the things that trouble the hound, so as to help her if she is thirsty in the night or pressed by some need of nature; and one would know too how she rested. For if she should be sleepless, it is not safe to lead her out to the hunt, nor if she should whimper often in her sleep, nor if she should vomit up any of her food; 2. and these things the one who rests with her would know. Worst is the bedding of hounds with hounds—much more so, if they should rest touching one another; for whereas a man sleeping with a hound takes away the distress of the skin, hounds resting together bring upon one another whatever is bad in the skin, by their nearness and their heating; so that for the most part they are filled with mange when they rest together. 3. And the smell makes it plain, when you enter where many hounds rest; so harsh and pungent is it.

A great benefit to a hound is the rubbing of the whole body, no less than to a horse; for it is good to knit and strengthen the limbs, and makes the coat soft and the colour gleaming, and cleanses from the skin whatever is bad. 2. Rub the back and the loins with the right hand, placing the left under the flank, so that the hound, pressed from above, may not be distressed by squatting down; 3. the ribs with each hand, and the buttocks down to the tips of the feet, and the shoulder-blades likewise. 4. And when they seem to have had enough, lift her up by taking hold of the tail, and stretching her out, let go; and she, let loose, will shake herself and will plainly show that she was pleased with what was done.

To keep a noble hound tied up during the day is good, like anything else; for otherwise they must needs become unmanageable. And if ever they should need to be bound, they fret and whimper and gnaw through the leashes; so that there is need of iron for them, just as for men who are 2. wicked. And a hound let loose must needs eat everything that falls in her way, and the daily walking takes from them the prime of their running. But they ought to walk at appointed times, and for the most part to rest.

Lead the hounds out at least four times a day into level and clean ground. There loose them from the lead, both for the needs of nature and to bound about and run; 2. and if they should be idle, away from hunting, do this even oftener. And loose two together, so that, contending and playing, they may at once enjoy themselves 3. and at once exercise. But do not loose many together; for falling upon one another they sometimes do great harm. 4. And let no one loose a hard, well-set hound together with one being reared; for she is heavy and distressing to keep up with, and pursuing takes the prey, and fleeing leaves it behind easily, so that the pup must needs be discouraged, coming off worse in either case. 5. And those that are at enmity with one another—do not loose these together either, lest they injure one another; for there are hounds that are enemies and unfriendly to one another, just as men are, and especially the males to the males and the females to the females, for the most part out of envy. And one must not be careless of these matters either.

Now in the winter season feed the hounds once, a little before evening; for the day is short, and they ought to have been exercised, so that, if it should be necessary to toil far into the day at the hunt, they may endure hunger. 2. But in summer it is good even at dawn to give a little to eat, so that they be not worn out by the length; for indeed if they should be thirsty, they would drink with less distress having eaten beforehand. And if you should let down some salted fat into the hound, this too is good. 3. But if great heat should blaze, putting an egg into your hand and lifting up the hound's mouth, let it down, so that she swallows it whole. This will be both sufficient food for her, and will cool the panting, and will relieve the thirst.

Lead them out to the hunt often in spring and autumn; for these are the safest seasons for the hounds. 2. In summer rarely, and for the most part with intervals, if there should be stifling heat; for hounds do not endure heat, but many before now, having pursued at full strength, have been choked to death by the panting. 3. For this reason the hunter must carry eggs, so that, if the hound should pant excessively, he may let them down whole; for there is nothing that more cools the heat for them and relieves the panting. 4. But if she should drink in a draught while panting excessively, this too is not safe. For these reasons one must guard against leading them out in the heat. 5. And in winter do not lead them out if the cold should be severe, and most of all if the ground should be frozen; for the hounds get frostbitten on the ice, and some lose their nails, and the undersides of their feet are split open. 6. And if they be more high-spirited, they would break the bones of their feet on the ice, running unsparingly. But the hare is light and has shaggy feet, so that it runs painlessly on the frost.

He who has good hounds ought neither to loose them on the hare from close by, nor more than two; for even if it should be very swift and have often escaped many hounds, yet, rising from its form and pressed upon with shouting, it must needs be startled and have its heart pound. And in this way many noble hares have perished ingloriously, having neither done nor displayed anything worthy of memory. One ought, then, to let it slip away from its form and recover its courage. 2. And it, if it should be a good runner, will at once prick up its ears and leap far from its form; and, flinging out their limbs like creatures bounding, they straighten out their course. And then indeed the spectacle is worth the toils, all those one must needs toil over the hounds.

Best of hares are those that have their forms in conspicuous and open places; for out of boldness they do not hide themselves, but provoke, it seems to me, the hounds. 2. And these same, when they are pursued, do not flee to the glens or the groves, even if these should happen to be very near, so as easily to take themselves out of the danger, but force their way into the plains, contending against the hounds. And if slow hounds should follow them, they run only so much as they are pursued; but if swift ones, 3. as much as they can. And often, having turned aside into the plains, if they should perceive a good hound following close, so as to be overshadowed by her, having flung her off frequently by their twists and turns, they turn back again to the glens, or wherever they know of a burrow. And this must be taken as a sign that the hound has prevailed over the hare; 4. for those who are truly hunters do not lead out the hounds to take the beast, but for a contest and a struggle of running. And they are content if the hare should chance upon something to save it, 5. and seeing it taken refuge in a few thorns and crouched and given up, they call back the hounds, especially if it should have contended well. So that I myself have often, following the course on horseback, when it was caught, come up and taken it away alive, and having taken it away and tied up the hound, let the hare escape. And if I came too late to save it, I struck my head, because the hounds had destroyed a good adversary. 6. And for this reason alone I do not agree with my namesake, but I allow that whoever should see the beast being found out and pursued and run down, would forget any grief he might have; but to see it taken I declare to be neither a pleasant sight nor a striking one, but rather a distressing one, and one could not on this account forget any grief he might have. 7. But to that Xenophon, who had not known the swift hounds, it is pardonable if even a hare being taken appeared a great spectacle. 8. That hounds following the course bay even if I should not bid them, I know there is much necessity; so that even a voiceless hound would break into voice, no less than, as the story goes, the son of Croesus.

And to call back the hound is good; for they take pleasure in recognizing the voice of their master, and have a consolation amid their efforts in knowing that a spectator is present to them, and that they do not contend well unobserved. 2. And so to call back in the first course, as often as one pleases, I do not forbid; but in the second or third, when it is likely that the hound has been worn out, I think I would forbid calling her often by name, lest somehow, out of spirit and eagerness, wishing to gratify her master, then being strained beyond her strength, she should burst something within. For many hounds, and the noblest ones, have before now been destroyed in this very way. 3. But then let her contend as she will; for the contest is not even an equal one between hare and hound: the one runs wherever it wishes, the other follows after; and the one, having wound out its course and flung off the hound, presses on forward, while she, if she should be flung off, wanders. And one must needs follow after again, getting ahead, and recover whatever was carried away from the course. 4. And the difficult ground is more for the hare than for the hound—such as the rough places and the corky soils and the steep places and the uneven—because it is light and its feet, from their shagginess, are not split open in the rough places. And the running for its very life takes from it the perception of the difficulties.

When the hound has the hare, or has otherwise prevailed by running, one must leap down from the horse and stroke her, praising her, and kiss her head, and stretch out her ears, and say to her by name, "Well done, Cirra! well done, Bonna! finely, Horme!"—and whatever other name belongs to each, calling out this very thing; for they take pleasure in being praised, just as the noble among men. And she, if she should not happen to be exhausted, comes up smiling and showing affection. 2. And good after this is for the hound to roll about, just as we see horses do; for it is plain that she has not given out from the running, and at the same time it ends their fatigue.

The Celts hunt thus: those of them who are rich and live in luxury send out at dawn into the suspected places the scouts who are to spy out where the hare happens to be resting; and there is one who reports, if any be seen, or however many there be; 2. then, having arrived, they loose the hounds, having roused the beast, and they themselves follow on horseback.

Those who have no scouts, some of them, gathering more fellow-hunters together, go out on horseback, and going over the suspect places, wherever a hare happens to be roused, loose the hounds; but those who are more self-reliant in hunting go out on foot, and one man on horseback follows them, and he is appointed to pursue along with the hounds. 2. They go round, drawn up in a line; then advancing straight ahead as far as is proportionate to cover, turning again they double back along the same ground through the same places, leaving out, as far as possible, none of the suspect spots. 3. And one ought, if they should bring along more hounds, not to go drawn up at random; for if a hare should be roused from its form, there is no one who would refrain from loosing his own hound—one from desire to see his own running, each man, another startled by the shouting and grown frantic; and the hare would be taken without a contest by the noisy hounds, and whatever there is of profit in the spectacle would be lost. 4. But a master must be appointed over the hunt, and let him pair the hounds, and arrange thus: "If it should leap this way, you and you loose, but let no other loose; if that way, then you and you." And let them keep firm to what is appointed.

The Celts hunt also by mixing the swift hounds with the tracking hounds. And these seek out, while the men station themselves apart, having in hand the good hounds, where it is most likely the hare will straighten its course, so as to loose the hounds however it may come on for any of them. 2. And these hounds are what the toils were to that Xenophon. But the courses become disordered in this way, and the hare, even if it should happen to be very good, is for the most part startled by the clamour of the hounds, and unless it should happen to have leaped far ahead, so that its wits settle, is easily taken, having grown frantic. 3. He who looses a good hound ought, then, not to loose her while she is still disturbed, but, having let the first windings be wound out, so to release the hound, if he does not wish to ruin the spectacle.

Let it not be lawful to loose on newborn game, but one ought, obeying my namesake, to let these go 2. to the goddess. So that one must try also to call back the tracking hounds. But these are bad to be called back and disobedient from hunger, and terrible too at devouring the captured beast; so that you could scarcely drive them off even by striking with a stick.

One must hunt a deer or any other beast grown to so great a size in the following way, loosing the noble hounds; for the beast is large and needs much, and to contend it out is not safe. And the danger is no small one, that a good hound be destroyed for the sake of a deer. 2. But the deer, where the plains are easy to ride over—among the Mysians and the Getae and in Scythia and throughout Illyria—they pursue from the Scythian and Illyrian horses; for these are not good at being driven at first, but you would even quite despise them, seeing them set beside a Thessalian or Sicilian or Peloponnesian horse; but as they labour on 3. they hold out throughout. And then you would see that swift and great and proud horse give out, while the lean and mangy one first passes it by, then leaves it behind, then drives the beast. And it holds out so long, until the deer gives up. 4. And having given up and gaping from its witlessness, it stands still, and it is now possible, if you wish, to throw the javelin at it from close by as at something hobbled, or, if you wish, even to throw a noose round it alive and lead it away.

In Libya, from the Libyan horses—the men themselves and the horses being called Nomads—from these horses they take not only deer or gazelles—for these are taken without much contest, nor do horses that have taken any such thing seem good—but even the wild asses, which are distinguished by their swiftness and by holding out longest in running. 2. At any rate, when the Greeks with Cyrus the son of Darius were marching against the Great King—those with whom Xenophon too campaigned—Xenophon says that, when they were crossing the plains of Arabia, herds of wild asses appeared, and that no wild ass was ever taken by a single horseman, but that, stationing themselves apart, they drove the asses by relays, and that those which had held out against many at last gave up from fatigue: so, then, even Cyrus, the son of a great king and the brother of a great king, did not have horses good at pursuing. 3. But some of the Libyans' children, eight years old, and others not much older, ride upon the bare horses, using a rod upon them just as the Greeks use a bridle, and they follow after the wild asses so persistently that at last, throwing a noose round the beast, they lead it away; and it follows, defeated. 4. Thus, then, do those hunt who have good hounds and horses—not deceiving the beasts with snares or toils or nooses or, in short, with tricks and contrivances, but contending in the open. 5. And the spectacles are, it seems to me, in no way alike to those others, but the one resembles robbery or theft, the other a war fought out at full strength; and the one set, like pirates sailing up in secret, approach the beasts, while the other, just as the Athenians prevailed over the Medes in the sea-battle at Artemisium, or at Salamis and Psyttaleia, or again at Cyprus, so these too prevail over the beasts in the open. The age of a hound for running.

Lead a female out to the hunt after the eleventh month; but earlier, from the tenth month, if she should happen to be well-knit and not loose-limbed, let a hare go by hand in a conspicuous place, and loose her on the hare from close by, both that she may fill her sight and, seeing it near with good hope, may toil; 2. and loose another, full-grown hound afterward, so that the pup may not be distressed for long nor give up from fatigue. And she, frequently and easily winding out the hare, will hand it over to the pup. And when she has taken it, let her tear it with her teeth until she kills it. 3. And when she is now of an age to be led out, first let her walk the roads, all the rough ones; for it is a good exercise for knitting the feet of the hounds. 4. Then let the one who has her stand in a conspicuous and commanding place, and if the hare should have got ahead and gained a lead, do not loose her when she does not see it; for this very thing that Xenophon advises about the hounds trained for tracking. 5. But if you should loose a swift hound when she does not see, she wanders and bounds about and grows frantic and is scared off. 6. And then, if ever the hare should escape her once she is full-grown, she does not keep still nor return to the keeper nor obey when he calls, but from her practice of running rushes about at nothing she knows of, and resembles a mad creature. 7. But let the one who has the pup stand in a place such as I have already described, hiding himself where one might best judge that the hare, hard-pressed, will come, having doubled back. 8. And seeing it worn out, loose her from close by, not head-on; for the hound, setting off, will be carried straight ahead, while the hare, winding out, will easily slip past; and she must needs be left far behind and double back with difficulty, just as triremes sailing straight do not easily turn unless most of their rowing be eased off; 9. but letting the hare slip past, one ought to loose her from the side. And when it is caught, let someone follow up in haste, before the hound fills herself with the blood—not that the flesh is to be reckoned of much account by a man hunting for beauty's sake, but because it is a bad lesson for a noble hound to eat the hare. And many hounds have before now been destroyed in this way, since, panting from a long course, they filled themselves, then, choked, perished.

Do not lead out a male to the hunt before he is two years old; for the limbs of males are knit much later. 2. And the danger is no small one, but many before now, having contended before being full-grown, have perished before their time, and especially the noblest; for out of spirit they run as much as they are able. 3. As for the rest, watch over the same things as I have already told how one must do in the case of the females. 4. And guard them from breeding within this age; for their seed is not yet set, but is for the most part faded and faint, just as that of boys, and they themselves are utterly ruined, so that nothing one does later can set right the error. But from the third year it would be in due season to let them breed. And let them breed thus. One must watch the bitch until 1. she is cleansed of the blood; for if before this they should take the seed, for the most part they do not hold it, but it is washed out by the blood, just as in women. 2. And one must attend the mind here; for there is a short time that passes in which the blood no longer flows to her, yet she still keeps the desire. And a good age for the female is from two years to the seventh year.

Best is to shut up the male together with the female, but to be oneself out of sight; for unions in the open are not fruitful, if one must believe hunting men. But all such things that have been done in secret by hounds, the story is that they turn out successful. 2. After this, lead her out to the hunt—for the walk is good for the strength of the hounds—but do not loose them on the hare any longer; for there is danger of destroying her by over-toiling or over-straining her. 3. And do not loose the male on the hare likewise, before he has rested from his fatigue and grown strong, for not less than sixty days; then nothing will hinder loosing him to the contest.

The best season for whelping is that of spring; for this is most temperate of cold and heat. For the cold is not good for the whelps in their rearing, especially with scarcity of milk; and the heat is hard upon the mothers in the rearing; and autumn is worse than spring for this, because winter overtakes the whelps before they are set.

When she has given birth, if you should wish to recover her former swiftness, do not let her rear them except so far as to relieve her of most of the milk; then, taking them away, hand them over to other hounds, choosing noble ones; for the milk of the ignoble is not akin to the noble. 2. But if the hound should appear no longer fit for running, it is best to leave them under the mother and not put them under another hound; for foreign tendings, as that Xenophon too declares, are not nourishing; but the milk of the mothers is good, and their breath.

When the whelps already wander about, he rightly advises that one must rear them on milk, and that heavy fillings both twist their legs awry 2. and bring disease upon their bodies. And that the names set for the hounds should be short and easy to call—in this too one must obey him. And the names he has set down, finding some and himself making others, he has set down skilfully. 3. But if you should not yet wish to breed them, guard the hounds as carefully as possible when they are held by this necessity; and when they have ceased, their teats grow turgid and fill with milk, and the parts under the belly are stretched. 4. And it is at that time not safe to loose a hound on the hare; for their flanks are split open. So that one ought not even to loose them to bound about together with another hound; for contending, they sometimes, strained beyond their strength, come into the same danger. 5. But it is best to wait until their teats slacken. And the sign that it is now safe is when the hairs flow off in quantity when one touches her; for then, it seems to me, they are loosed from the former necessity and now set themselves to running.

The female is swifter than the male, but the male is better at toiling on than the female. And because he runs through the year, the possession is by far more to be prized; and because many females are good, but to chance upon a noble male is not easy, on this account too he is more to be prized. 2. And as for the females, one may be content if they should preserve their swiftness even to the fifth year; but the males preserve it even to the tenth. So that a male hound truly noble seems to me a great possession, and one that comes to a hunting man not without the goodwill of some of the gods.

But one must sacrifice to Artemis Agrotera over this possession; and one must sacrifice also upon faring well in the hunt, and dedicate firstfruits of what is caught to the goddess, and purify the hounds and the hunters, according to ancestral custom, as is the law.

Among the Celts there are some with whom it is a custom to sacrifice yearly to Artemis, and others who appoint a treasury for the goddess. And for a hare caught they throw two obols into the treasury, for a fox a drachma, because it is a treacherous thing and destroys the hares; for this reason they throw in more, as for an enemy caught. For a gazelle, four drachmas, because the animal is large and the catch more honourable. 2. And when the year has come round, whenever the birthday of Artemis arrives, the treasury is opened, and from what has been collected they buy a sacrificial victim—some a sheep, some a goat, some a calf, if it so go forward. 3. And having sacrificed and offered firstfruits of the victims to Agrotera, as is the custom for each, they feast themselves and their hounds. And they crown the hounds too on this day, so that it is plain that they keep festival in their honour.

And I too, along with my fellow-hunters, follow the custom of the Celts, and declare that nothing done by men without the gods ends in good. 2. For indeed all who sail begin from the gods—those at least to whom being saved is a care—and being brought safe through, they sacrifice thank-offerings to the sea-gods, to Poseidon and Amphitrite and the Nereids. And all who work the earth, to Demeter and her daughter and Dionysus; those who labour at the crafts, to Athena and Hephaestus; those concerned with teaching, to the Muses and Apollo Musagetes and Mnemosyne and Hermes; those concerned with matters of love, to Aphrodite and Eros and Persuasion and the Graces. 3. So too those who are zealous about the hunt ought not to neglect Artemis Agrotera, nor Apollo, nor Pan, nor the Nymphs, nor Hermes of the Wayside and the Guide, nor whatever other mountain gods there are; 4. otherwise their undertakings must needs come out half-finished.

For indeed hounds too are harmed, and horses go lame, and men come to grief. And this Homer too shows in his poetry. Teucer, the best archer of the Greeks, he says, in the contest hit nothing but the cord, and cut this through, because he had not first prayed to Apollo; but Meriones, a man no archer, having prayed to Apollo, hit the bird when it was already flying off. 2. And the descendants of those who marched with Polynices against Thebes took Thebes, obeying the portents of the gods and with the help of Zeus; but their fathers, having been no whit inferior to them in valour, perished at Thebes, because they did not obey the things signified by the gods. 3. And Hector, not obeying Polydamas, who would not let him drive against the ships of the Greeks on account of the serpent struck down by the eagle—an omen that they would not return in good order—a little later was taught by the deed itself that it is not good to disobey the divine. 4. Obeying these things, then, just as in any other work, so also in the hunt one must begin from the gods, and sacrifice thank-offerings upon faring well, and pour libations, and speak fair words, and crown the gods, and sing hymns, and dedicate firstfruits of what is caught, no less than the spoils of victory in war.