Unexplored Spain Part 13

Now the nutritive economy of wild-geese, as already explained, requires a frequently replenished store of sand or grit. In wet seasons (the marisma being then submerged) the geese resort to the adjoining sand-dunes of Donana to secure these supplies. But in dry winters they are enabled to obtain the necessary sand from these _vetas_; and it was to this particular spot that, to the number of many hundreds, the geese were evidently resorting at this period.

At once the measure of opportunity was gauged, and the arrangements necessary for its exploitation were made. Within three minutes a messenger was galloping homewards to summon a couple of men with spades and buckets to prepare a hole wherein one of us might lie concealed at daybreak. A pannier-mule to carry away the excavated material was also requisitioned, since the least visible change in the earth's surface would instantly be recognised by the geese as a danger-signal. Within a few minutes we had resumed our course, to continue the day's sport.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WILD-GEESE IN THE MARISMA.]

Next morning half an hour before dawn the writer reached the spot. It was pitch-dark and a dense fog prevailed. By what mental process my guides directed an unerring course to that lonely hole in the midst of a pathless and practically boundless waste pa.s.ses understanding. Such piloting (without aid of compa.s.s or even of the heavenly bodies--the usual index on which marshmen rely) seems to indicate a point where intellect and instinct touch; or perhaps rather a survival of the latter quality which, in modern races, has become obsolete through disuse.

Among savage races that faculty of instinct is markedly prominent, indeed the master-force; but there it has been acquired (or retained) at the cost of intellect, which is not the case with our Spanish friends--they possess both qualities. But place the best intellects of Madrid, or Paris, or London in such conditions--in darkness, or fog, or in viewless forest--and not one could hold a straight course for half-a-mile. Within ten minutes each man would be lost, devoid of all sense of direction. That is part of the price of the higher civilisation--the loss of a faculty which need not clash with any other.

Of course where people live with a telephone at their ear, with electric trams and "tubes" close at hand, where a whistle will summon an attendant hansom and two a taxi-meter--or, as _Punch_ suggested, three may bring down an airship--well, in such case, those modern "advantages"

may be held to outweigh the loss of a primitive natural faculty.

Hardly had a tardy light begun to strengthen to the dawn than the soft, soliloquising "Gagga, gagga, gagga," with alternatively the raucous "Honk-honk," resounded afar through the gloom. From seven o'clock onwards geese were flying close around--so near that the rustling of strong wings sounded almost within arm's-length; but that opaque fog held unbroken and nothing could be seen. Long before eight I resolved to quit and leave the fowl undisturbed for another morning rather than open fire at so late an hour. Having a compa.s.s, I steered a good line to the point where the horses awaited me, a mile away.

The following morning again broke foggy, though not quite so thick; still I had only five geese at eight o'clock, when three packs coming well in, in rapid succession, afforded three gratifying doubles. Total, eleven geese.

Leaving the geese a few mornings' peace, on February 5 the authors together occupied that hole at dawn. It proved a brilliant morning with a fine show of geese. As each pack came in, we took it in turns to give the word whether to fire or not. In the negative case, our eyes sank gently below the surface of the earth, and crouching down we heard the rush of wind-splitting pinions pa.s.s over and behind--probably to offer a fairer mark when they next wheeled round. Then two, and often three, great geese came hurtling downwards, to fall with resounding thuds behind. Few mistakes occurred this morning and scarce a chance was missed. But never could we succeed in working-in the two doubles at once! The cramped s.p.a.ce forbade that. The hole, having been dug for one, gave no freedom of action for two guns; its floor, moreover, had now become a compound of sticky glutinous clay a foot deep, and that further hampered movements. Only one gun could work the second barrel.

After each shot, one of us jumped out and propped up the fallen geese as decoys. To leave them lying about all-ends-up has a disastrous effect.

Ere the "flight" ceased we had five-and-twenty greylags down around our hide, besides several others that had fallen at some distance, duly marked by the keepers who now galloped off to gather these--say two mule-loads of geese. The discovery of that lonely "sanding-place" had had a concrete reward.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XI

WILD-GEESE ON THE SAND-HILLS

Flanking the marisma and separating it from the dry lands of Donana, there rises rampart-like a swelling range of dunes--the biggest thing in the sand line we have seen on earth. For miles extend these mountains of sand, unbroken by vestige of vegetation or any object to relieve one's eyesight, dazzled--aye, blinded--by that brilliantly scintillating surface, set off in vivid contrast by the azure vault above.

Should a stranger, on first seeing those b.u.t.tressed dunes, be seriously informed that their naked summits const.i.tute a favourite resort of wild-geese, he might reasonably suspect his informant's sanity, or at least wonder whether his own credulity were not being tested. Yet such is the fact--one of the surprises that befall in Spain, the _pays de l'imprevu_.

The paradox is explained by the stated necessity in wild-geese to furnish their gizzards with store of grit or sand for digestive purposes.

This supply, so long as the marisma is dry, they are able to obtain from those raised ridges of calcareous debris (already described, and known locally as _vetas_) which here and there outcrop from the alluvial wastes. But when winter rains and floods have submerged the whole region and thus deprived the fowl of that local resource, they are forced to rely upon the sand-dunes aforesaid and to subst.i.tute pure sea-sand for their former specific of calcareous grit or disintegrated sh.e.l.ls. To the sand-dunes, therefore, in the cold bright mornings between October and February, the skeins of greylag geese may be seen directing their course in successive files, in order, as the Spanish put it, "to sand themselves" (_arena.r.s.e_).

A notable fact (and one favourable to the fowler) is that, though these dunes extend for miles, yet the geese select certain limited areas--or, to be precise, the summits of two particular hills--for alighting, and this despite their being regularly shot thereat, year after year.

With the first sign of dawn the earlier arrivals will be heard approaching; but the bulk of the geese come in about sun-up and onwards till 9 A.M. Geese arriving high (having come presumably from a distance) will sometimes, after a preliminary wheel, suddenly collapse in mid-air, diving and shooting earthwards in a score of curving lines--as teal do, or tumbler-pigeons; but with these heavy fowl the manoeuvre is executed with surprising grace and command of wing. Their numbers vary on different mornings without any apparent cause; but it may be laid down as a general rule that more will come on clear bright mornings than when the dawn is overcast, while rain proves (as in all wildfowling) an upsetting factor. Sometimes, even on favourable mornings, no geese appear. Occasionally, in small numbers, they may visit the sand in afternoon.

To exploit the advantage afforded by this habit of the geese, it is necessary that the fowler be concealed before dawn in a hole dug for the purpose in the sand--care being taken to utilise any natural concealment, such as a depression flanked by a steep sand-revetment; so that, at least from one quarter, the geese may perceive no danger till right over the gun. The hole (or holes, but _one_ is best) must be dug at least twelve hours before, or the newly turned sand will show up dark. Were it not for the risk of wind filling them up with driving sand (a matter of an hour or two), the holes might well be prepared two or even three days beforehand. The excavated material is piled up around the periphery and flattened down smooth, thus forming a raised rampart which screens the suspicious darkness of the interior. Needless to say, the fewer human footprints around the spot, the better.

Such is the inability exhibited by many sportsmen (not being wildfowlers) to conceal their persons--or even to recognise the virtue of concealment--that, for such, the holes are apt to be made too big, and the geese swerve off at sight of those gaping pits. This indeed is a form of sport that none save wildfowlers need essay--others merely succeed in thwarting the whole enterprise.

However carefully prepared and skilfully occupied, these holes (dug in naked sand) must obviously be visible enough to the keen sight of incoming greylags. One such hole (when backed up by well-placed decoys) the geese may almost ignore; two they distrust; while three inspire something approaching panic. Consequently a single craftsman who knows his business and bides his time will shoot, under the most favourable circ.u.mstances, at almost every successive band of geese that means alighting. Two guns, in _full sympathy_ with each other, may effectually combine by occupying holes dug at some fifty yards apart and with a single set of decoys set midway between for mutual use. Thus there can be secured fair, frequent, and almost simultaneous shots.

It is essential to bear in mind the fact that the geese have come with the intention (unless prematurely alarmed) of _alighting_. Hence, as they often circle two or three times around before finally deciding, a judicious refusal of all uncertain chances has a concrete reward when, a few seconds later, the pack sweep overhead at half gunshot. The first element of success lies in concealment; the second in ever allowing the geese to come in to such close quarters as renders the shot a certainty.

Greylag geese are, of course, huge birds, very strong, and impenetrable as ironclads. But to tyros (and many others) in the early light they are apt to appear much larger, and consequently much nearer, than is actually the case. All this has, the night before, been impressed upon our friend, the tyro, in solemn, even tragic tones. The urgency of the thing seems to have been graven deep on the very tissues of his brain, and he promises with earnest humility to bear the lesson in mind when the vital moment shall arrive; to deny himself all but point-blank shots well within thirty yards, whereby he will not only himself a.s.sist to swell the score, but enable his companion to do likewise.

Words fail to describe that companion's frame of mind at the dawn, when, despite over-night exhortations and a.s.surances, he sees to his horror pack after pack of incoming geese (some of which he has himself let pa.s.s within forty yards) "blazed at" at mad and reckless ranges by that wretched scarecrow who never ruffles a feather and afterwards tries to excuse his failure by enlarging on "the extreme height the geese came in at!"

These goose-hills, it may here appropriately be stated, lie midway between our two shooting-lodges and distant between two and three hours'

ride from either. Thus every morning's goose-shooting presupposes some fairly arduous work. It means being in the saddle by 4 A.M. with its resultant discomforts and a long scrambling ride in the dark. Hence the disgust is proportionate when all that work is thrown away in such insane style. Never again for any tyro on earth, though he be our clearest friend, never will the authors turn out at 3 A.M., abusing with clattering hoof the silence and repose of midnight watch and the hours designed for rest--never again, unless alone or with a known and reliable companion.

A word now as to the "decoys." These, in design, are American--first observed and brought across from Chicago--cut out of block-tin, formed and painted to resemble a grey-goose. Geese being gregarious by nature are peculiarly susceptible to the attractions of decoys. Hence these tin geese have a marvellous effect when silhouetted on the skyline of a sand-ridge, being conspicuous for enormous distances and the only "living" objects on miles of desert. They are _most_ deadly before sunrise, after which they are apt to glint too much despite a coating of dried mud. As daylight broadens, incoming geese are apt to be disconcerted at losing sight of their supposed friends, which event must occur as each decoy falls end-on--one can interpret the hurried queries and expletives of the puzzled phalanx at that mysterious disappearance!

For these reasons it is desirable as soon as possible to supplement the decoys with, and finally to subst.i.tute for them, the real article, that is, the newly shot geese, set up in life-like att.i.tudes by aid of twigs brought for the purpose. Fallen birds must, in any case, be set up as fast as gathered; if left spread-eagled as they fell, inevitably the next comers are scared. The more numerous and life-like the decoys, the more certain are the geese to come in with confidence and security.

Naturally great care must be used in getting into and out of one's hide to avoid breaking down its loose and crumbling substance. But it is of first importance quickly to gather and prop up the dead. A winged goose walking away should be stopped with a charge of No. 6 in the head.

As ill.u.s.trating the life-like effect produced by our tin decoys, on one occasion a friend, after firing both barrels, was watching a wounded goose, when a strange sound behind attracted his attention. On looking round, a fox was seen to have sprung upon one of the tin geese! That a fox, with his keen intuition and knowledge of things, should have considered it worth his while to stalk wild-geese (even of flesh and blood) on that naked expanse seems incredible. The fact remains that he did it!

Strange indeed are the sensations evoked by that silent watch before day-dawn, in expectation of what truly appears incredible! Buried virtually in a desert of sand the fowler has nothing in sight beyond the dark dunes and a star-spangled sky overhead. For his hide is cunningly hidden in a slight depression with a hanging b.u.t.tress on two sides.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WILD-GEESE ALIGHTING ON THE SAND-HILLS]

Several hundred yards away, concealed under stunted pines, stand our horses, while the men cower round a small fire, for we have had a biting cold two-hours' ride, and freezing to boot. Half-a-mile away on the other side--the east--begins the marisma, though hidden from view by the waves of rolling sand that intervene.

Now a faint glint of light gleams on the tin decoys and foretells the coming dawn. Five more minutes elapse, and then ... that low deep-toned anserine call-note, instinct with concentrated caution--"Gagga, gagga, gagga, gagga"--sets pulses and nerves on fuller stretch. This pack proves to be but an advance-guard; for this is one of those thrice-blessed mornings for which we pray! The geese come in thick and fast in successive bands of six or eight to a score, and all beautifully timed, with exactly the correct interval between. The fowler is a craftsman, a master of his art, and, moreover, he is all alone. Hence he can to-day await the psychological moment with patience and absolute confidence. Rarely in such circ.u.mstances is trigger touched in vain; not seldom has the second gun been brought into action with good, thrice with double effect. No simple achievement is this, when fowl vanish swift and ghost-like into s.p.a.ce; for, remember, guns must be exchanged with due deliberateness else shifting sand in an instant fills the breech and clogs the actions. Thrice has the double _carambola_ been brought off, and now comes the prettiest shot of all--five geese swing past, head up for the decoys, and pa.s.s full broadside at deadliest range; they are barely twenty yards away. In all but simultaneous pairs fall four of their company on the sand--all four stone dead; and but a single survivor wings away to bear news of the catastrophe to his fellows in the marisma!

It is 8 A.M., and the tin decoys are now entirely replaced by geese of flesh and feather, with the fatal result that each successive pack now enters with fullest confidence, so that by doubles and trebles the score mounts fast during the fleeting minutes that yet remain.

Before nine o'clock the flight has ceased. It only remains to gather those birds which have fallen afar--and which have been marked by the keepers from their points of vantage--and to follow by their spoor on the sand such winged geese as may have departed on foot. Some of these will be overtaken, those that have concealed themselves in the nearest rush-beds; but should any have pa.s.sed on and gained the stronghold of the marisma, they are lost.

Such is an ideal morning's work, one of those rare rewards of patience and skill that occur from time to time. Far differently may the event fall out. There are mornings when scarce once will that weird forewarning note, "Gagga, gagga," rejoice the expectant ear with harsh music, when no chain-like skeins dot and serry the eastern skies, or ever a greylag appears to remember his wonted haunts. We do not complain, much less despair. Such are the underlying, fundamental conditions of wildfowling in all lands. To a nature-lover the wildness of the scene, with its unique conditions and environment are ever sufficient reward.

Roughly speaking, from a dozen to a score of geese may be reckoned as a fair average morning's work for one gun. The following figures, selected from our game-books, indicate the degree of success that rewards exceptional skill. In each instance they apply to but one fowler, though two guns (12-bores) may have been employed.

1903. Remarks.

Dec. 4. 29 geese. Later in day, shot 46 ducks in the _marisma_ close by.

Dec. 5. 51 geese. Later, shot 25 ducks, 16 snipe.--B. F. B.

1904.

Nov. 27. 27 geese. (A second gunner shot but three.) Nov. 30. 52 geese.

1903.

Jan. 9. 23 geese. Westerly gale kept filling hole with sand; half my time spent in new excavation.--W. J. B.

1908.

Dec. 7. Three guns on sand-hills, 4 + 7 + 22 = 33 geese.

Dec. 10. 42 geese. Shots fired, 44. Later in day, shot 55 ducks, 3 snipe = 100 head.--B. F. B.

1909.