employ in the chace. These are the _berana_, the _terakel_, the
_nebala_, and the _bahara_. The _berana_ and the _terakel_ are the most
esteemed; especially the _terakel_, which is the largest—the female
sometimes attaining the size of an ordinary eagle. This species has
black wings, gray on the under side. The belly is black and white, the
tail black, as is also the head when young, but gradually turning gray
and then white as the bird grows older. Its beak is very hard and sharp,
and its talons solid and vigorous. The _berana_ is less strong and
somewhat smaller than the _terakel_. Its wings are of a whitish gray,
its breast white, its tail gray and white, the latter predominating. The
head is of many hues, but there also white is the dominant colour. The
_bahara_ is almost entirely black, with the exception of a few whitish
spots on the breast. "It is a negro, and not worth much." In the
_nebala_, gray predominates; there are some white spots, however, on the
wings, and the feet are yellow. All these birds mew at the end of
summer.
In certain districts, the following species are likewise valued; the
_shashin_, the _aogab_, the _meguernes_, and the _baz_. The _baz_ is the
most courageous. Its plumage is of a dark red, its eyes deep set, with
arched eyelids, its shoulders wide apart, its feathers soft, its breast
broad, its rump thick, its tail short, its thighs wide apart, its legs
white, and its feet broad. The heavier it feels on the hand, the swifter
it is on the wing. It is said that its wind is bad.
The bird of noble race is given away rather than sold; whoever catches
one takes it to the master of a large tent, who makes him a present in
return. It is in the summer-time that they endeavour to procure these
noble birds, in order to have time to train them for the hawking season,
which is towards the end of autumn. They go to work in the following
manner.
They envelope a pigeon in a sort of shirt made of horse-hair and a
quantity of wool. A horseman rides about a desert place carrying this
lure with him, and when he sees a bird of race, throws it up into the
air and then hides himself. The falcon stoops and strikes it, but her
legs and talons become entangled in the wool and hair, and her struggles
only make her position worse. At last, stupefied and exhausted, she
finishes by alighting, or rather by falling on the ground, when the
horseman issues from his hiding place and secures her. A perch is
prepared for her in the chief's own tent, to which the bird is fastened
by an elegant thong of _filali_.[87] It is needless to add that the
greatest care is taken to attach the jesses, so as not to hurt the bird,
or cause her unnecessary inconvenience. The master of the tent feeds her
with his own hands once a day, about two in the afternoon. Her ordinary
food is raw mutton, very clean, and carefully cut up. She is not stinted
as to quantity, may eat to satiety, and is even expected to improve in
condition.
By way of commencing her education, they proceed in this manner. They
show her a large piece of flesh, and at the same time call to her three
times, with a cry that may be represented by the sound long drawn out of
"Ouye! ouye! ouye!" The bird throws herself upon the meat, which is not
given up to her, but which she fights hard to get hold of. They draw it
away slowly, still showing it to her and teasing her, until she is quite
exhausted, when they give her several small morsels on her perch. Up to
that time, the falcon is kept scrupulously within the tent, remaining
hood-winked all day, and also during the first few nights, until she is
accustomed to live with the women and children, the dogs and other
animals. This last point is difficult to manage, and is never completely
achieved.
When the "gentle" bird has got thus far, when she is used to accept her
food upon the perch, in the manner above described, the circle of her
prison is extended. She is fastened by the foot to a cord, or creance,
of camel's hair, soft and pliable, from fifty to sixty cubits in length,
which allows her to go abroad. Outside of the tent, they repeat the
lesson of calls to come and be fed, cautiously feeling their way. The
falcon is in this manner tended a long time within the tent, going out
only to receive her food. When her master is quite sure of having
accustomed her to himself, he takes her with him on his fist to a
considerable distance, putting on and off her hood several times, at
different intervals. It is not without difficulty, without many
struggles, that the bird accommodates herself to the scene abroad, but
by degrees she becomes used to that also.
At this period, the last touch is given to her education, by means of
the same calls, the same alternations of teasing and gratifying; but far
from the tent and the _douar_, without hood and without leash, her food
is given to her. As soon as she is gorged, the hood and leash are
replaced. After that, her master never moves a step without her perched
upon his fist. But this is not enough. The bird is only tamed—she has
yet to be trained for the sport. Accordingly, they take a hare and cut
its throat, disclosing the gash by drawing back the skin, so as to let
the flesh appear. Then, inside the tent, they take off the hood of the
falcon, who springs at the throat of the animal, and is allowed to worry
it for a time in order to get a taste for it; and a little later they
give her some of the flesh. This manœuvre is repeated seven or eight
days following, with a live hare, whose ears the master keeps pulling to
make it squeal, while he himself utters the call "Ouye! Ouye!" The
falcon precipitates herself on the head of the animal and fights for it,
pecking out the eyes, and sometimes the tongue. The hare is then opened,
and some of the flesh given to the bird. This exercise is repeated more
or less frequently, according to the bird's aptitude for learning.
The hawking season is now at hand. The bird must be put to the proof, to
ascertain if she has profited by these lessons so skilfully graduated,
by this education so laboriously inculcated, and so appropriate to her
nature and to the style of sport for which she is intended. They go out,
therefore, on horseback, taking the "gentle" bird hood-winked, and
proceed to an open plain, or a vast plateau, having first provided
themselves with five or six live hares. Having reached the appointed
spot they take a hare and, having broken its four feet, let it go within
the scope of the bird's ken. Squeaking and moaning it hobbles on as well
as it can, when they unhood the falcon, and throw her off—exclaiming _Bi
es-sem Allah! Allah akbar!_ The _terakel_, impatient, soars straight up
toward the sky, and from a great height swoops down upon the hare, which
she kills, or stuns, with a single blow with her tightly closed talons,
as with a fist. The hunters come up, bleed and open the animal, and give
the entrails, the liver, and the heart to the bird, who devours them on
the spot. After repeating this lesson several days in succession, the
training of the bird is considered complete.
This course of instruction has extended from summer to near the end of
autumn, which is the favourable season, for the falcon only hunts well
in cloudy and cold weather. She cannot endure the glare of the sun, nor
yet thirst or heat. She would leave her master to go in search of water,
which she sees from afar, and would never return. At that period, then,
a party sets out after a light breakfast, at about eleven in the
morning, with the falcon on the shoulder or on the fist. The only
provisions they take with them are camel's milk, dates, bread, and dried
grapes.
But the sport does not begin until after a tolerably long ride, towards
three in the afternoon. The cavalcade is usually a numerous one. Having
reached a suitable spot, they scatter about, beating the brushwood and
tufts of _alfa_ in the hope of starting a hare, which they drive towards
the man who holds the falcon. As soon as the quarry is sighted, the
latter unhoods the bird, and throws her off; pointing with his finger to
the hare, and exclaiming _Ha hou!_ "there it is!" While her master is
pronouncing the sacramental _Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar!_ the bird is
off, soars out of sight, keeping the hare in view all the time with her
piercing eye, and then precipitates herself upon it, and strikes it,
either on the head or on the shoulder, one blow with her closed talons,
violent enough to stun, if not to kill it. The horsemen, seeing the
falcon stoop, gallop up from all quarters, surround her, and generally
find her engaged in picking out the eyes of the hare. To make her let
go, some one draws out from below his burnous the skin of another hare,
and throws it down a little way off, when she immediately pounces upon
it. Her _curée_, or reward, is not given to her until after their return
to the _douar_.
It will be readily understood that, though the bird was fed abundantly,
and even to excess, during the time she was being tamed, and taught to
obey the call, she is kept somewhat sparingly during the hawking season,
to avoid making her dull and depriving her of her full power, and in
order to make her a good hunter, that is, ardent and alert.
It is no uncommon thing with two or three falcons to kill from ten to
fifteen hares in a day. A large bird called the _habara_[88] is also
hunted with the _thair el horr_, and in this wise. The hunters ride on
until they meet with _habaras_, who generally go in couples, or in
companies of half a dozen and more. The falcon is on the fist. Her hood
is removed, and the birds are pointed out to her. When thoroughly
roused, she is thrown off with the invocation, _Bi es-sem Allah_! She
soars aloft, stoops upon her quarry, strikes it on the head, and holds
it in the pitiless grasp of her talons in spite of the desperate
struggles of the victim, until the horsemen come up and snatch it from
her. One of them then bleeds it to death, and gives the falcon her
reward. The flesh of this bird intoxicates the falcon, according to the
Arabs, either because of the perfumed vapour emanating from it, or
because she is proud of the capture of a _habara_, a dainty fit to set
before a Sultan. Thus, when she is replaced on the shoulder, she struts
and balances herself, and executes her fantasia. If the _habara_
attempts to fly, the falcon soars, and both mount together, the latter
rising higher and higher till she is well above the other, when she
precipitates herself upon it like a thunder-bolt, and breaks, first a
wing, and then the sternum. They fall together, tumbling over and over,
but the falcon always managing to keep uppermost and to hold her victim
beneath her, so that it alone may feel the shock of this frightful fall.
The "gentle" bird hunts, also, the _seroun_, the _hamma_, and the
_agad_. Some falcons will not hunt the _habara_. They are never trained
to hunt partridges, as it is feared that, if they became accustomed to
it, they would prefer a feathered quarry to one with a skin. If a bird
delays to return to her master, a horseman, holding in his hand the skin
of a hare furnished with ears and feet, gallops up towards her and
throws this lure to her, at the same time hooping "Ouye!": she generally
answers to the call. This interjection, if I may so express myself, is
the vocative of the bird of race. The falcon, when properly trained,
seldom betrays, that is, escapes from her master. They are sometimes
lost, however, by their passion for a desert bird called _hamma_, which
they pursue with fury.
The _biaz_—such is the name of the falconer, the individual whose
special duty it is to tend and feed the falcon—sometimes entertains a
blind and fatal attachment for his pupil. He will pet and pamper her to
excess; and although it is proverbially said that "vanity is her only
counsellor and sole motive of her actions," yet, if she be not hungry,
instead of hunting, she resumes her liberty. A bird, however, must be
exceedingly well trained and even renowned, to be kept for more than one
year. As a rule, unless she has displayed an exceptional prowess, she is
turned loose at the end of the season, as another is sure to be obtained
before the time comes round again. Birds that have been kept for three
years are quoted as something quite out of the common run.
When the _djouad_, or nobles, go out hawking, it is in parties of
five-and-twenty to thirty, without reckoning their attendants, and
wagers are often laid. For a trained falcon, a camel is given, or a
hundred _boudjous_, and at times even a horse. The falcon is regarded as
a member of the family. She lives in the tent, and is the object of the
most constant attention. Some chiefs are never to be seen without their
falcon, which they carry about with them everywhere. It is a sign of
distinction and of gentle birth to have marks of a falcon's muting on
one's burnous. In the Sahara, little or great, rich or poor, all alike
love and caress the "gentle" bird.
"And how should it be otherwise?" said to me one day a noble Arab; "we
love pomp, splendour, and magnificence, and one must be more or less
than an Arab not to feel joy and excitement at the sight of our warriors
returning from hawking. The chief rides on in front, followed by many
horsemen, and carrying two falcons, one on his shoulder, the other on
his fist, guarded by a leather gauntlet. The hoods of these birds are
enriched with silk, morocco leather, gold, and small ostrich plumes,
while their jesses are embroidered and ornamented with silver bells. The
steeds neigh, the camels are loaded with game, and their drivers murmur,
in a melancholy tone, one of those chaunts of love, or war, which never
fail to find the way to our hearts. Yes; I swear by the head of the
Prophet, next to a goum taking the field, there is nothing so striking
as the departure or return of a hawking party. Thus, however weary,
exhausted, and out of breath one may be, sleep is less refreshing than
the hope and expectation of recommencing on the morrow."
THE CHACE
BY ABD-EL-KADER.
It is related that an Arab Sheikh was seated in the centre of a numerous
group, when a man who had lost his ass presented himself before him, and
asked if any one had seen the animal that had gone astray. The Sheikh
immediately turned to those around him, and addressed them in these
words:—"Is there any one here to whom the pleasures of the chace are
unknown? Who has never pursued the game at the risk of life and limb, if
he fell from his horse? Who, without fear of tearing his clothes or his
skin, has not thrown himself into the midst of brushwood bristling with
thorns, in order to overtake the wolf? Is there any one here who has
never experienced the happiness of again meeting, the despair of leaving
a woman who was dearly loved?"
One of his hearers answered: "For my part, I have never done, or
experienced any of those things you mention."
Looking to the owner of the ass, the sheikh thus spoke: "Behold the
beast you were looking for! Lead him away."
The Arabs, indeed, have a saying that "he who has never hunted, nor
loved, nor felt emotion at the sound of music, nor prized the perfume of
flowers, is not a man, but an ass." With us, war is especially a contest
of agility and craft. Consequently the chace is the highest of all
pastimes, as the pursuit of savage animals teaches how to pursue men. A
poet has written the following eulogy of that art:
"The chace disengages the mind from the cares by which it is harassed.
It adds to the vigour of the intelligence, brings joyfulness, dissipates
chagrin, and renders useless the science of the physicians by
maintaining perpetual health in the human body.
"It forms good horsemen, for it teaches them to spring quickly into
their saddles, to alight promptly on the ground, to rush a horse across
rocks and precipices, to clear stones and bushes at full gallop, to push
on without stopping, even though some part of the harness has been lost
or broken.
"Every one who gives himself up to the chace, makes progress day by day
in courage, and learns to despise accidents.
"To fully enjoy his favourite diversion, he withdraws from perverse
people. He puts falsehood and calumny to the rout, escapes from the
corruption of vice, and emancipates himself from those fatal influences
which tinge our beards with gray, and burden us, before our time, with
the weight of years.
"Days spent in the chace are not counted among the days of one's life."
In the Sahara, the chace is the sole occupation of the chiefs and rich
people. When the rainy season sets in, the inhabitants of that region
transport themselves to the shores of the small lakes formed by the
rain; and, if game get scarce at one spot, they open up a new scene in
their wandering life. A legend familiar to every Arab shows with what
force the passion for the chace may seize upon the heart of an African.
A man of distinction fired at a gazelle and missed it. In a hasty
moment, he took an oath that no food should come near his mouth until he
had eaten the animal's liver. Twice again, he fired at the gazelle, and
with no better success, but not the less did he continue the pursuit for
the whole of that day. At nightfall his strength gave way; but true to
his oath, he refused to take any nourishment. His servants, therefore,
resumed the chace, which lasted for three days more. At last the gazelle
was killed, and its liver brought to the dying Arab, who touched it with
its lips and yielded up his last breath.
The Arabs hunt both on foot, and on horseback. A horseman who would
chace the hare must take with him a greyhound, which is called
_slougui_, from Slouguïa, a spot where they were originally produced
from the coupling of she-wolves with dogs. The male _slougui_ lives
twenty years, the female twelve. Greyhounds that are able to run a
gazelle down are rare. Few of them will give chace either to the hare or
to the gazelle, even if those animals pass close to them. Their
customary object of pursuit is the _bekeur-el-ouhash_, which they
generally catch by the ham and pull to the ground. It is said that this
animal, in trying to recover itself, falls forward on its head and is
killed. Sometimes, the _slougui_ seizes the _bekeur-el-ouhash_ by the
throat, and holds it until the hunter comes up. Many Arabs hunt this
beast on horseback, and strike it from behind with a spear. It is also
on horseback that they generally hunt the gazelle, which goes in herds.
They select from among its companions the animal they intend to bring
down, and shoot it without for a moment pulling up their horse, on which
they started at full speed. There is an Arab proverb: "More forgetful
than a gazelle." This pretty creature, in fact, appears to have the
giddy brains as well as the soft, mysterious glance of woman. The
gazelle, if missed, runs a little way further on, and again stops,
without heeding the ball which, in another minute, will again seek its
life. Some Arabs hunt this animal with the falcon, which is trained to
strike at the eyes.
It is especially among the Arabs of the Eshoul country that this variety
of sport chiefly prevails. I have there met with a small tribe, called
the Es-Lib, who lived entirely on the products of the chace. Their tents
were made of the skins of gazelles and of _bekeur-el-ouhash_; and their
clothing, for the most part, was nothing but the skins of wolves. A
member of this little tribe of hunters told me that when he went out to
hunt he generally took with him an ass laden with salt. Each time he
knocked over a gazelle, he cut its throat, opened the belly, and rubbed
the entrails with salt, and then left it to dry on a bush. After a while
he retraced his steps, and carried to his family all the animals that he
had thus prepared, for in that district there are no beasts of prey to
dispute with a hunter for his game. The Es-Lib are so accustomed to feed
upon flesh, that the children threw away the biscuits I gave to them,
never supposing that they were good to eat.
The hunt in ambush is often practised against both the male and female
of the _bekeur-el-ouhash_. When the great heats have dried up the ponds
in the desert, a hole is dug close to the springs whither they resort to
drink, and they meet with their death while in the act of quenching
their thirst. The chace that demands the greatest intrepidity is that of
the _lerouy_, an animal resembling the gazelle, but larger, though
without attaining the size of the _bekeur-el-ouhash_. The _lerouy_,
which is likewise called the _tis-el-djebel_, or mountain goat,
frequents rocks and precipices, among which it must be pursued on foot,
amid a thousand perils. As these animals have very little speed, any
ordinary dog can catch them easily if they descend into the plains. But
they have a singular peculiarity, as I am assured. A _lerouy_ closely
pressed by hunters throws itself down a precipice a hundred cubits deep,
and falls on its head without receiving any hurt. The age of the animal
is known by the knobs on its horns—each knob indicating a year. Both the
_lerouy_ and the gazelle have two incisor teeth, but they have not those
situated between the incisors and the canine teeth.
If _lerouy_ hunting be the glory of the pedestrian, ostrich hunting is
the glory of the horseman. In the season of the sirocco, when a sort of
burning sleep seems to weigh down all nature, when it might be thought
that all animated beings must be condemned to repose, the dauntless
hunters mount on horseback. Of all animals, the ostrich is known to be
the least provided with craft. It never takes a circuitous course, but,
confiding in its swiftness alone, endeavours to escape in a line
straight as that of an arrow. Five horsemen station themselves at
intervals of a league in the direction it is certain to take. Each one
acts as a relay. When one pulls up, the next clashes off at a gallop in
pursuit of the bird, which is thus deprived of a moment's rest, and has
to contend against horses that are fresh. The horseman who is the last
to start is necessarily the victor, but his victory is not achieved
without danger. In falling, the ostrich, by the movement of its wings,
inspires the horse with a panic that is often fatal to the rider.
On horses that have to accomplish this terrific running they place only
a saddle-cloth, and a saddle of extreme lightness. Some hunters use only
wooden stirrups, and an extremely light bit attached to a simple
pack-thread. Each one takes with him a small leathern bottle filled with
water, and from time to time moistens the bit, in order to keep the
animal's mouth tolerably cool. This racing of five horsemen is not,
however, the only mode of hunting the ostrich. Sometimes, an Arab who is
thoroughly acquainted with the habits of the bird, takes his post by
himself close to a spot where it is in the habit of passing—near a
mountain defile, for instance—and as soon as the ostrich comes in sight
he gives chace at full gallop. But it is rare for a hunter to succeed by
himself, as very few horses can overtake the ostrich. However, I once
possessed a mare that excelled in this sport.
Although the horse is usually employed in this as in other kinds of
hunting, he is not indispensable to man. Craft may sometimes of itself
overcome the ostrich. In the laying season the hunters dig holes near
the nests, in which they squat down, and kill the parent bird as it
comes to visit its eggs. The Arabs have recourse, likewise, to
disguises. Some of them will clothe themselves in the skin of the bird,
and thus approach close to those they wish to kill; but hunters,
disguised in this fashion, have sometimes, they say, been shot by their
own companions. If an ostrich has had a leg broken by a ball, she
cannot, like other bipeds, run along, hopping on the other leg. This is
because there is no marrow in its bones, and, without marrow, bones will
not mend when they have been fractured. The Arabs affirm that the
ostrich is deaf, and that the sense of smell replaces that of hearing.