When George felt that he should give Spot special training to fit him
for his new position as leader, or took Queen out under the strict
discipline he knew would be necessary to prepare her for the ordeal, he
would ask Ben to hitch Baldy to one of the small sleds and give him a
run.

Baldy's nature had always expressed itself best in action, and Ben was
delighted with the ease with which he adjusted himself to serious sled
work. There were no more romps, no more games, but his pace became even
and steady, and he required no threats and no inducements to make him do
his best.

"There's one thing about Baldy," admitted George freely, "you don't have
t' jolly him along all the time. Why, even with Spot I have to say
'Snowbirds' an' 'Rabbits' every little while when I want him to go
faster, an' then you should see him mush. You know that's what Father
says t' Tom, Dick 'an' Harry, an' Rover an' Irish. It's fine with any of
'em that's got bird-dog blood, an' you know Spot's part pointer. O'
course they don't have t' really see snowbirds an' rabbits, but they
just love t' hear about 'em, an' begin t' look ahead right away. An' if
they do happen t' see 'em, they pretty nearly jump out o' their harness,
they're so crazy for 'em."

"Baldy's part bird-dog, too," said Ben, "but I been watchin' him close,
an' it ain't anythin' outside that makes him want t' go; it's more like
he feels a sort o' duty about doin' the very best he kin fer any one
that's usin' him. He's allers willin' t' do more'n his share; an' he's
lots happier when he's workin' hard than when he's just lyin' idle in
the stable, or bein' trotted out by Matt fer a walk."