Red deer also wander freely and unpreserved over these ownerless hills--possibly the only place in Europe where such is the case. We inquired whether many were shot, but were told that such an event occurred rarely, though the Hurdano gunner might often approach within close range. "We are not _ensenados_ [instructed] in the arts of chase,"

explained our informant. A few partridges and hares are found, with trout in the upper waters.

Despite their degradation, the Hurdanos, we were a.s.sured, display no criminal taint such as is inherent among Gipsies.

As regards the habits and customs of these people, we here roughly transcribe from the work of Pascual Madoz[39] some selected extracts that appear to be as accurate to-day as when they were written some sixty years ago.

The food of the Hurdanos is as noxious as it is scanty. The potato is the general stand-by, either boiled or cooked with crude goat's suet; sometimes beans fried in the same grease, and lastly the leaves of trees, boiled; with roots, the stalks of certain wild gra.s.ses, chestnuts, and acorns. Bread is practically unknown--all they ever have is made of coa.r.s.e rye and such crusts as they obtain by begging outside their district. Only when at the point of death is wheaten bread provided.

Their clothing consists of a shapeless garment reaching from the hip to the knee, a shirt without collar, fastening with one b.u.t.ton, and a sack carried over the shoulder. They have no warm clothing and all go bare-foot. The women are even less tidy and dirtier than the men. Never have they a vestige of anything new--nothing but discarded garments obtained by begging, or in exchange for chestnuts, at the distant towns. Their usual "fashion" is never to take off, to mend, or to wash any rag they have once put on--it is worn till it falls off through sheer old age and dirt. They never wash nor brush their hair, and go bare-legged like the men.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A WOLF-PROOF SHEEPFOLD ON THE ALAGoN, NORTH ESTREMADURA

Walls 10 feet high: note the shepherd's dwelling alongside. Within are sheep.]

These, moreover, are the richest; the majority being clad in goatskins (untanned) that they kill or that die. These skins the men fix round their necks, girt at waist and round the knees with straps; the women merely an ap.r.o.n from the waist downward.

Men and women alike are dwarfed in stature and repugnant in appearance, augmented by their pallor and starveling look. On the other hand, they are active and expert in climbing their native mountains. There is no outward difference in the s.e.xes as regards their lives and means of subsistence.

All their environment tends to make them untractable and savage (_sylvaticos_), shunning contact with their kind, even fleeing at sight and refusing to speak. They have no doctors nor surgeons, relying on certain herbs for medicines; yet they live long lives.

They only recognise the pa.s.sing seasons by the state of vegetation and of the atmosphere. They sow and reap according to the phases of the moon, of which they preserve an accurate observation. Religion and schools alike are unknown. They glory in their freedom from all moral suasion, and rejoice in the most brutal immorality and crime--including parricide and polygamy. There are _alquerias_ wherein no priest has set foot, nor do they possess the faintest sense of Christian duties.

It seems incredible that in the midst of two provinces both wealthy and well reputed there should exist a plague-spot such as we have painted, unknown as the remotest kraals of Central Africa.

Thus Pascual Madoz in 1845, and but little external change has become apparent in sixty-five subsequent years.[40] Churches, it is true, have been erected, priests and schoolmasters appointed. Amelioration, however, by such means can only come very slowly--if at all. The physical and domestic status of these poor savages must first be raised before they are mentally capable of a.s.similating the mysteries of religion. Spain, however, owes them something. They are heavily taxed--beyond their power to pay in cash. Thus they are cast into the power of usurers. In each _alqueria_, we were told, is usually found one man more astute than the rest, and he, in combination with some sordid scoundrel outside, exploits the misery of his fellows. A species of semi-slavery is thus established--in some ways a.n.a.logous to the baneful system of _Caciquismo_ outside.

The Hurdanos are also subject to the conscription and furnish forty to fifty recruits yearly to the Spanish army. Curiously, time-expired men all elect to return to their wretched lot in the mountains. On our asking one of these (he had served at Melilla), "Why?" his reply was, "for liberty."[41]

There is a villainous custom in vogue that hurls these poor wretches yet farther down the bottomless pit. This abomination rages to-day as it did a hundred years ago: we therefore again leave old Pascual Madoz to tell the tale in his own words:--

Many women make a miserable livelihood--it is indeed their only industry--by rearing foundling infants from the hospitals of Ciudad Rodrigo and Placencia. So keen are they of the money thus obtained that one woman, aided by a goat, will undertake to rear three or four babes--all necessarily so ill-tended and ill-fed as rather to resemble living spectres than human beings. Cast down on beds of filthy ferns and lacking all maternal care, the majority perish from hunger, cold, and neglect. The few that reach childhood are weaklings for life, feeble and infirm.

This repulsive "industry" continues to-day, a sum of three dollars a month being paid by the authorities of the cities named to rid themselves of each undesired infant. The effect--direct and incidental--upon morals and s.e.xual relationship in the _alquerias_ of the Hurdes may (in degree) be deduced--it cannot be set down in words.

Thus the single point of contact with civilisation serves but to accentuate the degradation.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE GREAT BUSTARD

Over the vast expanse of those silent solitudes, the corn-growing steppes of Spain--all but abandoned by human denizens--this grandest and most majestic of European game-birds forms the chief ornament. When the sprouting grain grows green in spring, stretching from horizon to horizon, you may form his acquaintance to best advantage. And among the things of sport are few more attractive scenes than a band of great bustards at rest. Bring your field-gla.s.s to bear on the gathering which you see yonder, basking in the sunshine in full enjoyment of their mid-day siesta. There are five-and-twenty of them, and immense they look against the green background of corn that covers the landscape--well may a stranger mistake the birds for deer or goats. Many sit turkey-fashion, with heads half sunk among back-feathers; others stand in drowsy yet ever-suspicious att.i.tudes, their broad backs resplendent with those mottled hues of true game-colour, their lavender necks and well-poised heads contrasting with the snowy whiteness of the lower plumage.[42] The bustard are dotted in groups over an acre or two of gently sloping ground, the highest part of which is occupied by a single big _Barbudo_--a bearded veteran, the sentinel of the pack. From that elevated position he estimates what degree of danger each living thing that moves on the open region around may threaten to his company and to himself. Mounted men cause him less concern than those on foot. A horseman slowly directing a circuitous course may even approach to within a couple of hundred yards ere he takes alarm. It was the head and neck of this sentry that first appeared to our distant view and disclosed the whereabouts of the game. He, too, has seen us, and is even now considering whether there be sufficient cause for setting his convoy in motion. If we disappear below the level of his range, he will settle the point negatively, setting us down as merely some of those agricultural nuisances which so often cause him alarm but which his experience has shown to be generally harmless--for attempts on his life are few and far between.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GREAT BUSTARD]

Another charming spectacle it is in the summer-time to watch a pack of bustard about sunset, all busy with their evening feed among the gra.s.shoppers on a thistle-clad plain. They are working against time, for it will soon be too dark to catch such lively prey. With quick darting step they run to and fro, picking up one gra.s.shopper after another with unerring aim, and so intent on pursuit that the best chance of the day is then offered to a gunner, when greed for a moment supplants caution and vigilance is relaxed. But even now a man on foot stands no chance of coming anywhere near them. His approach is observed from afar, all heads are up above the thistles, every eye intent on the intruder; a moment or two of doubt, two quick steps and a spring, and the broad wings of every bird in the pack flap in slowly rising motion. The tardiness and apparent difficulty in rising from the ground which bustards exhibit is well expressed in their Spanish name _Avetarda_[43] and recognised in the scientific cognomen of _Otis tarda_. Once on the wing the whole band is off with wide swinging flight to the highest ground in the neighbourhood.

The chase of the great bustard presents characteristics and attractions peculiar to itself and differing from that of all other winged game.

Rather it resembles the scientific pursuit of big game; for this is a sport in which the actual shot becomes of secondary importance, merely a culminating incident--the consummation of previous forethought, fieldcraft, and generalship. Success in bustard-shooting--alike with success in stalking--is usually attributable to the leader, who has planned the operation and directed the strategy, rather than to the man who may have actually killed the game. We here refer exclusively to what we may be permitted to call the scientific aspect of this chase, as practised by ourselves and as distinguished from other (and far more deadly) methods in vogue among the Spanish herdsmen and peasantry.

Before describing the former system, let us glance at native methods of securing the great bustard.

During the greater part of the year bustard are far too wary to be obtained by the farm-hands and shepherds who see them every day--so accustomed are the peasantry to the sight of these n.o.ble birds that little or no notice is taken of them and their pursuit regarded as impracticable. There is, however, one period of the year when the great bustard falls an easy prey to the clumsiest of gunners.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

During the long Andalucian summer a torrid sun has drunk up every brook and stream that crosses the cultivated lands; the c.h.i.n.ky, cracked mud, which in winter formed the bed of shallow lakes and lagoons, now yields no drop of moisture for bird or beast. The larger rivers still carry their waters from sierra to sea, but an adaptive genius is required to utilise these for purposes of irrigation. All water required for the cattle is drawn up from wells; the old-world lever with its bucket at one end and counterpoise at the other has to provide for the needs of all. These wells are distributed all over the plains. As the herdsmen put the primitive contrivance into operation and swing up bucketful after bucketful of cool water, the cattle crowd around, impatient to receive it as it rushes down the stone troughing. The thirsty animals drink their fill, splashing and wasting as much as they consume, so that a puddle is always formed about these _bebideros_. The moisture only extends a few yards, gradually diminishing, till the trickling streamlet is lost in the famishing soil.

These moist places are a fatal trap to the bustard. Before dawn one of the farm-people will conceal himself so as to command at short range all points of the miniature swamp. A slight hollow is dug for the purpose, having clods arranged around, between which the gun can be levelled with murderous accuracy. As day begins to dawn, the bustard will take a flight in the direction of the well, alighting at a point some few hundred yards distant. They satisfy themselves that no enemy is about, and then, with cautious, stately step, make for their morning draught.

One big bird steps on ahead of the rest; and as he cautiously draws near, he stops now and again to a.s.sure himself that all is right and that his companions are coming too--these are not in a compact body, but following at intervals of a few yards. The leader has reached the spot where he drank yesterday; now he finds he must go a little nearer to the well, as the streamlet has been diverted; another bird follows close; both lower their heads to drink; the gunner has them in line--at twenty paces there is no escape; the trigger is pressed, and two magnificent bustards are done to death. Should the man be provided with a second barrel (which is not usual), a third victim may be added to his morning's spoils.

Comparatively large numbers of bustard are destroyed thus every summer.

It is deadly work and certain. Luckily, however, the plan enjoys but a single success, since bands, once shot at, never return.

A second primitive method of capturing the great bustard is practised in winter. The increased value of game during the colder months induces the bird-catchers, who then supply the markets with myriads of ground-larks, linnets, buntings, etc., occasionally to direct their skill towards the capture of bustard by the same means as prove efficacious with the small fry--that is, the _cencerro_, or cattle-bell, combined with a dark lantern.

As most cattle carry the cencerro around their necks, the sound of the bell at close quarters by night causes no alarm to ground-birds. The bird-catcher, with his bright lantern gleaming before its reflector and the cattle-bell jingling at his wrist, prowls nightly around the stubbles and wastes in search of roosting birds. Any number of bewildered victims can thus be gathered, for larks and such-like birds fall into a helpless state of panic when once focussed in the rays of the lantern.

When the bustard is the object of pursuit, two men are required, one of whom carries a gun. The pack of bustard will be carefully watched during the afternoon, and not lost sight of when night comes until their sleeping-quarters are ascertained. When quite dark, the tinkling of the _cencerro_ will be heard, and a ray of light will surround the devoted bustards, charming or frightening them--whichever it may be--into still life. As the familiar sound of the cattle-bell becomes louder and nearer, the ray of light brighter and brighter, and the surrounding darkness more intense, the bustards are too charmed or too dazed to fly.

Then comes the report, and a charge of heavy shot works havoc among them. As bands of bustards are numerous, this poaching plan might be carried out night after night; but luckily the bustards will not stand the same experience twice. On a second attempt being made, they are off as soon as they see the light approaching.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CALANDRA LARK

A large and handsome species characteristic of the corn-lands.]

The third (and by far the most murderous) means of destruction is due, not so much to rural peasantry as to _cazadores_--shooters from adjoining towns--men who should know better, and whom, in other respects, we might rank as good sportsmen; but who, alas! can see no shame in shooting the hen-bustards with their half-fledged broods in the standing corn during June and July--albeit the deed is done in direct contravention of the game-laws! Dogs, especially pointers, are employed upon this quest when the mother-bustards, being reluctant to leave their young, lie as close as September partridges in a root-crop; while the broods, either too terrified or too immature to fly, are frequently caught by the dogs. We regret that there are those who actually descant with pride upon having slaughtered a dozen or more of these helpless creatures in a day; while others are only restrained from a like crime by the scorching solar heats of that season.

More bustards are killed thus than by all the other methods combined--a hundred times more than by our scientific and sportsmanlike system of driving presently to be described.

Except for this unworthy ma.s.sacre of mothers with their broods in summer, and the two clumsy artifices before mentioned, the bustards are left practically unmolested--their wildness and the open nature of their haunts defy all the strategy of native fowlers. The hen-bustard deposits her eggs--usually three, but on very rare occasions four--among the green April corn; incubation and the rearing of the young take place in the security of vast silent stretches of waving wheat. The young bustards grow with that wheat, and, ere it is reaped (unless prematurely ma.s.sacred), are able to take care of themselves. A somewhat more legitimate method of outwitting the great bustard is practised at this season. During harvest, while the country is being cleared of crops, the birds become accustomed to see bullock-carts daily pa.s.sing with creaking wheel to carry away the sheaves from the stubble to the _era_, or levelled threshing-ground, where the grain is trodden out, Spanish fashion, by teams of mares. The loan of a _carro_ with its pair of oxen and their driver having been obtained, the cart is rigged up with _esteras_--that is, esparto-matting stretched round the uprights which serve to hold the load of sheaves in position. A few sacks of straw thrown on the floor of the cart save one, in some small degree, from the merciless jolting of this primitive conveyance on rough ground. Two or three guns can find room therein, while the driver, lying forward, directs the team with a goad.

This moving battery fairly resembles a load of sheaves, and well do we remember the terrible, suffocating heat we have endured, shut up for hours in this thing during the blazing days of July and August. The result, nevertheless, repays all suffering. We refer to no mere cynegetic pride but to the enduring joy of observing, at close quarters and still unsuspicious, these glorious game-birds at home on their private plains. The local idea is to fire through a slit previously made in the _esteras_; but somehow, when the cart stops and the game instantly rises, you find (despite care and practice) that the birds always fly in a direction you cannot command or where the narrow slit forbids your covering them. Hence we adopted the plan of sliding off behind as the cart pulled up, thus firing the two barrels with perfect freedom. We have succeeded by this means in bringing to bag many pairs of bustard during a day's manoeuvring.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SPANISH THISTLE AND STONECHAT]

We now come to the system of bustard-driving, which we regard as practically the only really legitimate method of dealing with this grand game. From the end of August onwards the young bustards are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. The country is then cleared of crops, and while this precludes the birds being "done to death" as in the weeks immediately preceding, yet the ubiquitous thistles (often of gigantic size, ten or twelve feet in height), charlock, and _viznagas_ provide welcome covert for concealing the guns, while the heat still renders the game somewhat more susceptible to the artifices of the fowler. This is the easiest period.

As the season advances the hunter's difficulties increase. The brown earth becomes daily more and more naked, while files of slow-moving ox-teams everywhere traverse the stubble, ploughing league-long furrows twenty abreast. These factors combine to aid the game and stretch to its utmost limit the venatic instincts of the fowler.

Let us now attempt to describe a day's bustard-driving on scientific lines. The district having being selected, it is advisable to send out the night before a trustworthy scout who will sleep at the _cortijo_ and be abroad with the dawn in order to locate precisely the various _bandadas_, or troops of bustard, in the neighbourhood. The shooting-party (three or four guns for choice, but in no case to exceed six[44]) follow in the morning--riding, as a rule, to the rendezvous; though should there be a high-road available it is sometimes convenient to drive (or nowadays even to motor), having in that case sent the saddle-horses forward, along with the scout, on the previous day.

Arrived at the _cortijo_, the scout brings in his report, and at once guns and drivers, all mounted, proceed towards the nearest of the marked _bandadas_. Not only are the distances to be covered so great as to render riding a necessity, but the use of horses has this further advantage that bustard evince less fear of mounted men and thus permit of nearer approach. The drivers should number three--the centre to flush the birds, two flankers to gallop at top speed in any direction should the game diverge from the required course or attempt to break out laterally.

Ten minutes' ride and we are within view of our first _bandada_ still a mile away. They may be feeding on some broad slope, resting on the crest of a ridge, or dawdling on a level plain; but wherever the game may be--whatever the strategic value of their position--at least the decision of our own tactics must be clinched at once. No long lingering with futile discussion, no hesitation, or continued spying with the gla.s.s is permissible. Such follies instil instant suspicion into the astute brains on yonder hill, and the honours of the first round pa.s.s to the enemy.

For this reason it is imperative to appoint one leader vested with supreme authority, and whose directions all must obey instantly and implicitly.

Needless to say, that leader must possess a thorough knowledge both of the habits of bustard and the lie of a country--along with the rather rare faculty of diagnosing at a glance its "advantages," its dangers, and its salient points over some half-league of s.p.a.ce. None too common an attribute that, where all the wide prospect is grey or green, varying according to ever-changing lights, and the downlands so gently graded as occasionally to deceive the very elect. Much of the bustard-country appears all but flat, so slight are its folds and undulations; while even the more favouring regions are rarely so boldly contoured as Salisbury Plain. The leader must combine some of the qualities of a field-marshal with the skill of a deer-stalker, and a bit of red-Indian sleuth thrown in. Luckily, such masters of the craft are not entirely lacking to us.