Wild Spain Part 30

We were informed, in reply to a respectful protest, that a high official of the Admiralty at Madrid--the Deputy Chief Constructor, we think, was his t.i.tle--would "shortly" be visiting the a.r.s.enal at San Fernando, where a new war-ship was nearly ready for launching, and that he would then take the opportunity of inspecting our impounded gunboat at Seville.

The measurements of this "British Armada" were: length over all, 22 feet, breadth of beam, 3 feet 6 inches, by 9 inches depth of hold; her armament a gun of eighty pounds weight, throwing sixteen ounces of shot.

Not a very formidable vessel, yet a hostile fleet off Malaga would hardly have aroused more official fuss.

Six or seven months elapsed before these difficulties were smoothed away, as difficulties in Spain, or elsewhere, do dissolve when prudently and properly treated; but the wildfowling season was over, the ducks had disappeared, ere the "Boadicea" was released from official durance and allowed to proceed to the scene of action.

The first obstacle was now surmounted, but a second, and more insuperable difficulty arose, one which forms the real "pith" of the present chapter. From the first our local wildfowlers reported badly of the new craft; her trial cruises were not satisfactory, for, while the _pateros_ experienced no difficulty in approaching the less wary birds, such as flamingoes, herons, and the like, yet ducks of no sort could be outmanuvred; at any rate not on the open waters. On the return of the ducks in autumn following, the fowlers still reported that they found the large packs wholly inaccessible, nor could they secure more than a paltry half-dozen or so at a shot.

These reports, however, did not disturb us greatly; we attributed the failure of the _pateros_ to lack of experience and technical knowledge in handling the "Boadicea"; for, despite their skill in fowling, the art of working a big gun afloat was one of which they could know nothing. It was, therefore, with unabated confidence that the writer embarked on board the trim, light craft, and shoved off on his first Spanish punt-gunning campaign.

An exhilarating prospect lay before us; nowhere in British seas could such aggregations of wildfowl be seen, nor so favourable a spot be found: there was no tide or current to fight against, no deeps where one loses bottom, no hidden shoals nor shifting sand-banks to bar one's course; and, as too often happens in our tidal waters at home, to s.n.a.t.c.h success from one's grasp in the very moment of its realization.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

No; here we had smooth shallow water, uniform in depth, practically stagnant, and with a firm level bed of mud. And everywhere on its surface, and in the clear atmosphere above, floated or flew those wild and graceful forms so dear to a fowler's eye--the duck-tribe in endless variety. Half a mile away, the opposite sh.o.r.es of the sound, the Lucio de los Caballeros, were dark with mult.i.tudes of duck: fresh files kept streaming in to alight among their fellows, and at intervals the roar of wings, as some bird of prey put their battalions in motion, resounded like the rumble of thunder. Close overhead hovered graceful Little Gulls (_Larus minutus_), adults whose dark under-wing contrasted with the snowy breast, others in the marbled plumage of immaturity. As the punt shot forward, hidden amidst islanded clumps of rush and sedge, we pa.s.sed, almost within arm's-length, the weird-looking grebes and singular long-legged stilts in every posture of repose and security--more rarely in those of suspicion. Rather farther away waded half a dozen spoonbills, revolving on their axis at each forward step in their peculiar fashion; a purple heron or two, and sedate storks seeking a feast of frogs. A pack of avocets swept by in chattering flight: ruffs and redshanks, green sandpipers, and others of that cla.s.s, with whole troops of plovers, splashed and preened in the shallows. All these we pa.s.sed silently by. Even a "bunch" of the beautiful garganey teal would not tempt us this morning, for ambition soared high.

Gradually we stole round the flank of the ducks--a long way off, for it was necessary to save the wind and get to leeward. In this we succeeded, and there now only remained between us and the black streak that represented thousands of keen eyes, some 300 yards of open water: surely no very formidable obstacle with a well-handled craft. So we thought, and so a fair experience of ducks and their ways at home justified us in thinking. Alas! for misplaced confidence: hardly had our bows shot clear of the last sheltering fringe of rush than the nearer birds began to rise, and spread the alarm through the deep ranks beyond. Quickly the danger-signal was communicated to the furthest outposts: the roar of wings increased, and in a few seconds the whole ma.s.s lifted off the water as one might lift a carpet by the corner--not a living thing remained afloat, while the heavens grew dark with quivering pinions and gyrating clouds, and resonant with a babel of bird-music.

Thus ended the first attempt in conspicuous failure; and a second, third, and fourth shared a like fate: we were never within measurable distance of succeeding, and began to realize that what our native fowlers had reported was only too near the truth. It is fair to add that Vasquez's handling of the punt, after a few preliminary trials, left little to be desired; his apt.i.tude for the new work was surprising. He held a capital course, steered accurately to signal, and got a "way" on the boat that would have satisfied Hawker.

The very numbers of the ducks proved, to some extent, a safeguard; the smaller packs could occasionally be outmanuvred under cover of some reed-bed--but this only with thirties, forties, or fifties; the area covered by the larger bodies outflanked even the most extensive _juncales_. On the open water we have never yet succeeded (though we have tried a hundred times) to approach these main armies of duck, and believe now that it cannot be done. Why this should be so is another question, and a curious one. The nature of the duck-tribe is the same in Spain as in England: wherever they are found they are among the wildest and most wary of birds. Here, however, we had them in numbers surpa.s.sing anything we have seen on British waters, and frequenting, too, a region which seemed pre-eminently adapted for the use of punt and big gun. Yet we found them, on the desolate Spanish marismas, many-fold more inaccessible to a punt than on the hara.s.sed and heavily-shot harbours of England. The only reason we can suggest is that, these waters never being traversed by boats of any kind, the fowl are inclined to avoid a gunning-punt as readily as they do a human being.[73]

The impossibility of obtaining a good shot by fair means being demonstrated, as a final resource we laid up the punt among the sedges, at a point where the fowl were wont to congregate. Here, at the end of two hours, we had about a thousand birds before the gun: wigeon, shovelers, and a few garganey, all mixed, with about a score of pintails and three or four gadwall; but, whether purposely or by accident, they kept at very long range from our sedgy shelter, and when at last, owing to a leaky seam and evening coming on, we were obliged to risk a long shot, only some six or eight duck were secured.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Plate LI.

"A HUNDRED AT A SHOT--NOW OR NEVER."

Page 400.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE BITER AND THE BIT."]

To complete this sketch of Spanish punt-gunning, we will briefly narrate the incidents of two other days' sport, as follows:--_February 28th._ Started at daybreak, taking both the punt and a _cabresto_ pony. The first shot was at eleven teal, of which eight fell to the two barrels (12-bore); the second shot realized seven more teal and a marsh-harrier.

The latter capture afforded rather a curious incident: six teal lay dead, the seventh, being a lively cripple (which could fly some distance), I sent Vergara after him in the punt, while we proceeded along-sh.o.r.e with the pony. A large hawk, however, had at once "spotted"

the cripple, and an exciting chase ensued--the hawk making stoop after stoop, the teal as often escaping by diving. But the dives grew shorter and shorter, and at last we observed that the bird of prey had prevailed, for he remained suspended betwixt wind and water and was evidently making good his hold. Then with heavy flight he bore his burden straight towards where we crouched, watching, behind the pony, and settled on the sh.o.r.e. Him we then approached in the customary way, and as the fierce-looking _aguilucho_ stood on his victim, crushing out what remained of life, a charge of No. 4 secured both the _biter_ and the _bit_.

Harriers are so numerous in the open marisma that four or five may often be seen at once, slowly drifting about over the waste, and marvellous is the speed with which they detect a disabled fowl. With a lively cripple, it is often a race between the human and the feathered raptor for rights of possession, and in flight-shooting the wounded are carried off under one's very eyes.

After another _cabresto_-shot, which added ten wigeon to the bag, we reached the broad Arroyo de la Madre, which was "paved" with wildfowl in numbers that we cannot estimate. Mere numerals convey nothing--unless it be a suspicion of exaggeration--and any other attempt would only involve the use of inadmissible superlatives. Suffice to say that for leagues that broad water was a living carpet of birds. We now entrusted our fortunes to the "Boadicea" and her big gun. The boat lay near the junction of a creek with the main channel; the nearer water was dotted with teal, garganey, and wigeon; a little further off, the white livery of the shovelers was conspicuous, and beyond again, with the gla.s.ses, we could distinguish, among acres of wigeon, a sprinkling of pintails, gadwall, and a few white-eyed pochard and mallard. On the slob-land in front, fed nine spoonbills; a small herd of flamingoes on the left, and near them a grey line of geese, whose sonorous clamour was distinguishable above the medley of bird-notes. Ducks, however, of all kinds are silent enough by day.

Once more the punt proved a failure. No sooner had she emerged from the cover of the _armajos_ (samphire), than the nearer teal and wigeon began swimming out, scattering away to right and left in lines all radiating from the focus of alarm. Ere anything like fair range was reached, not a single solid point presented itself to our aim. Opportunities there were to kill, say, a dozen or more, but these paltry chances were declined without second thought. In the result, some two or three hours'

careful work--"flattened" on our chests all the time--were not rewarded by a single shot from the big gun.

Towards evening we observed flights of duck--chiefly wigeon--pouring in constant streams towards some low mud-islets which afforded cover for approach. Behind these we lay for an hour, awaiting the gloaming, but the short southern twilight proved a serious obstacle. In the few minutes occupied in "shoving out" from our shelter towards the floating phalanxes in front (we had awaited the last possible moment) the light had disappeared, and it became impossible to distinguish objects _on the water_, though those in _air_ were yet clear enough. There were, we knew, hundreds of ducks before the gun; but the shot--like nine-tenths of those fired at haphazard--was a failure. Fifteen wigeon and two pintails lay dead; the cripples, if any, it was impossible to recover in the gloom; and we sadly started to "pole" the long leagues homewards, reflecting on the singular uncertainty of sports mundane.

This day thus realized 42 ducks--17 to the punt and 25 to the _cabresto_: though, had we followed the latter system alone, the total would have been much heavier, while every available chance was given to the punt-gun, which never, _until after dark_, produced a feather.

As a contrast we will briefly outline the results of our next day's shooting, employing the trained pony alone. The artillery used was a single 4-bore and a double 12: six shots were fired, and the net result was 82 duck, besides minor spoils. The day was perhaps more favourable, since, March having now commenced, the fowl were congregating into those closely-packed _corros_, or hordes, which mark the preliminary stage to departure. Thus, one broadside to-day realized 32 wigeon, and another should have done better, but for a "hang-fire." Still there was nothing exceptional about the day's results. We have often much exceeded the total named, but select this particular day merely because it followed in immediate sequence to that last described.[74]

Since writing the above, the experience of two more winters has served to confirm its correctness. From a dozen or fifteen up to twenty ducks may occasionally be secured at a shot, but the huge bodies of wildfowl on open water remain actually inaccessible, and the visions of heavy shots--80 or 100--of which we had dreamed, no longer disturb our midnight slumbers.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Plate LII.

LA MARISMILLA--A SHOOTING MORNING.

Page 405.]

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

DEER-DRIVING IN THE PINE FORESTS.

MY FIRST STAG.

By a rush-girt glade in the heart of the _pinales_, or pine-region, stands the lonely shooting-lodge of La Marismilla. The sombre forests which surround it are a chief stronghold of the Spanish red deer, which find shelter in the abundant underwood and rich pasturage in the gra.s.sy dells. The wild pig prefers the more isolated thickets which lie towards the outskirts of the forest.

The system generally adopted for shooting the forest-deer is "driving."

The sylvan geography of these great areas of pines, devoid to a stranger of landmark, point, or path, is intimately known to the foresters, who mentally map out the whole into sections for the purpose of the _batida_, or drive. The exact boundaries of each section vary, of course, from day to day in accordance with the wind; for the red deer is gifted with a fine sense of smell, and instantly detects the human presence when "betwixt the wind and his n.o.bility." Perhaps the readiest means of conveying an idea of this sport of forest-driving will be to relate the vicissitudes that befell the writer before succeeding in bagging his first stag.

My first _puesto_, or post, was in the face of a sand-ridge clad with tall pines, and there were, I think, three guns on my right, four on the left. All these, even my nearest neighbours (200 yards away), were of course invisible amidst the broken ground and ma.s.ses of brushwood which intervened; and their positions were only approximately indicated by sundry long lines traced in the sandy soil by the gun-stock of the old forester, Juan Espinal, before leaving me at my post. These lines served to indicate both the positions of the adjoining guns, and also the limits _within which_ a shot might not be fired. It is obviously a paramount necessity in this cla.s.s of shooting never to shoot _forward_--_i.e._, into the beat; the game must be allowed to pa.s.s right through and well clear of the line before a shot can be thought of: a circ.u.mstance which adds vastly to the difficulty of placing one's bullets on the right spot.

The first thing when one is left alone in the solitude of the forest is to survey carefully one's field of action, to consider all possible contingencies, and prepare accordingly; the most essential point being so to place oneself as to see without being seen.[75] My first impression, in this case, was one of wonder as to where I could possibly place a bullet at all. My post, as already mentioned, was in the face of a ridge, or rather in a hillock forming part of the ridge, and having a deep pa.s.s on either hand. Thus the receding ground sloped away so as to disappear from sight just at the entrances of the pa.s.ses, forty or fifty yards away. In short, the possible lines of fire intersected the probable course of the deer, if any came, at exactly the point at which I should lose sight of them altogether. It was unsafe to move my position backwards, and in front I could find no convenient cover; so returning to my allotted post, I bethought myself to record my fears, and plot out the situation in my pocket-book. Then I settled down in the small redoubt of cut bushes I had put together, and waited. The solitude of the forest was delicious, and the silence only broken by the gentle fluttering of some small birds in the pines overhead. Continually there fell upon and around me small objects from above--it was a party of hawfinches pelting me with scales of pine-cones, broken off in their search for seeds. These and the crossbills are shy and wild, and, except on such occasions when unaware of one's presence, seldom allow of approach. For half an hour I watched their active movements, the tree-creepers and fire-crests, and the antics of a small animal, I think a genet, that was performing fantastic feats on a sunny knoll in front: meanwhile the distant shouts of the beaters were becoming more distinct, and at last I thought I could recognize the excited cry of _Ya va! ya va!_--there he goes! The genet vanished down a burrow, the birds ceased to pelt me, and a few moments later, to my excited eyes, the whole green expanse of juniper and heath-scrub before me appeared alive with great tawny beasts, all bounding forward directly towards my position. As the deer approached the hillocks I observed that a specially fine stag, with two smaller ones and some hinds, would pa.s.s on my right, while three more stags were making for the pa.s.s on the left. I concentrated all attention on the first, which slowly trotted past my front within thirty yards; but, as I had foreseen, had already more than half disappeared ere he reached the firing point and my bullet sped towards him; then, turning sharp round, I sent the second barrel at the last of the other three stags, just bounding from sight into the deep pa.s.s on the left.

The results were of course invisible; both were snap-shots, but I _thought_ I had laid on true, and was musing on the possibilities, more than half inclined to be ecstatic at having, or believing I had, really "pulled off" a clean right and left in my first interview with the Spanish red deer, when a rustling in the brushwood in front disturbed these happy cogitations, and another stag with three hinds appeared.

They came forward quite slowly, evidently suspicious of danger ahead, and stopping at intervals to look back towards the noisy beaters. They rose my hillock at a foot's pace, the stag leading--an eight-pointer--and at last stood actually within five yards. There was, in fact, nothing between us but the single pine and the slight breastwork of bushes I had built up as a screen. The stag stood for some seconds gazing backwards over his shoulder; then, as he turned to advance, he caught sight of me crouching beneath the junipers, almost under his nose--and the bound he took at that instant was a sight to remember. Away they dashed, all four, straight along the line of guns; but, turning outwards, shortly after leaving my sight, the stag fell to the rifle of my next neighbour.

Then the beaters came up, and eagerly we went off to examine the result of my two shots. Alas! no _ingentia corpora_ lay there, and on following their tracks for some distance, it was quite clear that both stags had escaped scatheless. The only relief to deep disappointment was that little memorandum I had made beforehand, foretelling the catastrophe, which was indeed more attributable to an ill-judged position than to any want of care.

Then, shortly afterwards, when I did manage to place my bullet in a fine stag of fourteen points, a wide and splendid head, the coveted trophy was again lost to me by the rules of sport, owing to the fact that another leaden messenger had preceded mine. This stag pa.s.sed through the line far to my right, receiving a shot in the stomach as he pa.s.sed, the effect being to turn him to me, and he pa.s.sed at full speed not thirty yards behind. A ball through the heart rolled him over; but the first wound, in his left side, was unquestionably fatal. After this, for a long time, no luck fell to my share; only hinds broke near my _puestos_, and, though they were most interesting objects, with their timorous graceful movements, their great supple ears inflected hither and thither, and large affectionate eyes, which gave me infinite pleasure to watch, yet they were not available quarry, and pa.s.sed on unmolested. One hind, which pa.s.sed within ten yards, was followed (January 8th) by a tiny fawn. Occasionally a stag came forward, cautiously feeling his way, step by step, to make sure of avoiding danger ahead; but these always managed to detect something in time, and broke back, or pa.s.sed through at some other point. One of these stood for some seconds almost within touch, only a thick bush between us, and others had all but reached the fatal line ere they changed their course.

One chance, however, I certainly lost by my own fault. A buzzard came sailing along the pine-tops towards me; I was posted on a small plateau crowning an isolated hillock, and overlooking a sea of dark green pines.

Promiscuous shooting is, of course, debarred; but the _batida_ was nearly finished; I had seen the beaters cross a ridge within a quarter-mile, and determined to have the hawk. Just as the buzzard approached a fair range, I observed that a good stag had ascended my hillock, and for some twenty yards ran in full view. Then he dropped down from sight just before it was possible for me to exchange guns. A downright bungle! I would fain have hidden my disgrace in silence, but it is a distressing feature of sport on this tell-tale sandy soil, that it is impossible to conceal or to mitigate one's "_chambonadas_"--call them misfortunes. Nothing moves but leaves behind it an indelible mark, and no mark ever escapes the keen eyes of the forest-guards. "Look here!" exclaims Anillo, "here has pa.s.sed a good stag--_aqui ha pasado un buen venado!_" "why did not his worship fire?" Why indeed!

Some days pa.s.sed and I began to fear the campaign might close without a change in my luck. Nor were these deep forests particularly interesting ornithologically: at first sight they appeared rather devoid of bird-life--that is in winter: we have often ridden for hours without seeing more than a few ravens or a kite. Among the thick bushy tops of the stone-pines were the hawfinches and crossbills, with a few other species, but these were remarkably shy and difficult of approach. On afternoons when our "drives" were finished before dark, I took the opportunity of trying to obtain some of the forest-haunting birds; but in this a singular difficulty occurred. In Andalucia the sun gives us an hour or two more of his company than on a winter's day at home. All day long he shines in a blue and cloudless sky; but when he sets, it is night. Hardly has his rim sunk behind the distant pines than it is dark, and the nocturnal concert of frogs and owls has commenced; a clear, strangely deceptive darkness, for on the ground one cannot see to shoot a rabbit or a low-flying woodc.o.c.k, yet overhead it is still light, and day is prolonged for half an hour more. The sunset effects on the western skies are gorgeous displays of rich colour, and even in the east there is a rosy reflection which rapidly fades away.

But there is none of that pleasant half-light we enjoy in our northern clime. The transition from day to night is startlingly sudden, twilight lasting only a few minutes. The feathered race is well aware of this and prepare for the event by going to roost a full half-hour before sundown.

One of the first signs of approaching night is the flight of the ravens.

Perhaps one has not realized the fact that the day is far spent, and is reminded of it by their dark files slowly crossing the heavens towards their roosting-places while it is yet broad daylight. The same habit is observable with the smaller birds. All day long they have been abundant enough; but during the last half-hour of daylight not one is to be seen, and when their retreat is eventually found they are buried, some in the pine-tops, others in thickets of myrtle or lentiscus-scrub--fast asleep in daylight. Hence these half-hours at dusk produced but little. One evening, while wandering among the pines, a buzzard dipped down from a lower branch and silently sped away till a shot in the wing brought him down. This bird proved to be one of the remarkably handsome pale varieties of _Buteo vulgaris_, the whole plumage of a warm cream-colour, slightly mottled and splashed above with dark brown; irides dark and claws _white_. My brothers (H. and A.) obtained buzzards in somewhat similar plumage in Germany (adults, shot at the nest) in the spring of 1878, but I have not otherwise met with the variety in Spain, the Spanish type being generally dark. Waiting on the line of the raven's flight, I dropped a pair of these birds: and shortly afterwards observed two very large tawny-coloured eagles flap heavily into a pine, but failed to approach within shot, or anything like it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SPANISH GUNS.]

To return to our deer, and the delightful days spent among the pinales, revelling in the lovely winter weather. Luck at length returned: after a long day, during which several stags and one pig had been bagged, we reached a small _mancha_ known as "El Rincon del Cerro Trigo." This was a small beat, and the last of the day; nor was it expected to be productive, as our beaters on a former drive must have skirted the outer edge of the Rincon. My position was on the brink of a steep sand-slope, perhaps fifty feet in height, its summit level with the tops of the pines in the _mancha_ below. Outside there stretched away open barrens, some small _corrales_ alone serving to break the monotony of utter desolation. Hardly expecting a shot, I was sitting idly under cover of a bushy pine-top which protruded, half-dead, from the verge of the steep descent, when a hind mounted the slope and broke close at hand. This aroused me, and a few seconds later she was followed by two stags--eight-pointers--slowly crossing out over the open, a lovely shot.

They were only fifty yards off; but, owing to the irregular outline of the _mancha_, my position was somewhat embayed, and it was necessary to give the stags extra law to clear that part of our line which bent backwards. I watched them traverse nearly fifty yards ere a shot was permissible, and by that time they were partly hidden from view among some slight hummocks. Any dead cistus or remnant of a sand-submerged pine collects around it that shifting substance, and half-hidden amidst these my stags were trotting forward when I gave them my double salute.

Both went on, but on emerging from the hummocks, the larger beast was clearly hard-hit, though they continued cantering down the sloping ground, and two more bullets at long range only raised little puffs from the ground beyond. I knew I was sure of this stag; and a few minutes later a finer beast emerged, the ivory tips of his antlers shining white in the evening sunlight. Him, I resolved, I must have, and never was gun laid on with more intense desire. The distance would be some eighty to one hundred yards, and the stag treated the advent of two bullets with what looked very like indifference, galloping off at top speed, despite a third salute from the express ambushed on my right. I watched him away to the edge of a small _corral_ half a mile off, and in which the two first stags had sought a retreat. But it was all over with him--poor beast, his course was run, and his tracks plainly told the tale to those who could read--though I must admit I was not one of them. The _rastro_ of the first stag showed big blood-clouts almost from the shot, and he was easily secured close by where he had disappeared from view. The second was far less distinct; indeed, no sign of a "hit" was discerned till just before reaching the distant _corral_. Here the faint trace, tiny drops of blood, all enveloped in sand, quite indiscernible to my eye, were instantly detected by the _guardas_. The dogs were laid on, and within a few minutes we heard the crash which told of the stag at bay. The final scene was just completed when I reached the spot--on foot, for in the rough scramble through forest and broken ground I had managed to get thrown, gun and all, and preferred to finish the pursuit on my legs. The first ball had pa.s.sed through the ribs, rather far back; the second ("express") had entered his stern. The first stag was also shot through the "lisk"--not brilliant performances, perhaps! but I had got my two stags, the first carrying nine points, the second a shapely wild head of eleven: and, since those days, we have now and then succeeded in placing the rifle-ball in more orthodox positions.[76]

Quite the finest hart of this campaign fell on the same beat--a superb head of fifteen points, having extremely broad and ma.s.sive horns, though of no special size of body. Total bag for the day: eight stags (two royals) and two wild pig.