WILD-GEESE ON THE SAND-HILLS
Flanking the marisma and separating it from the dry lands of Doñana,
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 buttressed dunes, be seriously
informed that their naked summits constitute 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'imprévu_.
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 substitute pure sea-sand for
their former specific of calcareous grit or disintegrated shells. 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" (_arenárse_).
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
circumstances, 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 assist 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 assurances, he sees to his horror
pack after pack of incoming geese (some of which he has himself let pass
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 substitute for them, the real article, that
is, the newly shot geese, set up in life-like attitudes 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 illustrating 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 buttress on two sides.
[Illustration: 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 circumstances 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 space; 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 pass 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 passed 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.
Jan. 8. 38 geese.
Jan. 19. 59 geese. The record.--(B. F. B.)
Dec. 29. H.M. King Alfonso XIII., 6 geese; Marq. de Viana, 5 = 11
geese (an unfavourable morning).
1910.
Jan. 7. Two guns (second at Caño
de la Casquera), 12 + 28 = 40 geese.
Jan. 8. 23 geese.
Possibly the larger totals are unsurpassed in the world's records. By
way of contrast we append what may perchance be discovered in the
note-book of the veracious tyro:--
Went out three mornings at three, emptied three cartridge-bags at
ridiculous ranges, fluked three geese, and scared three thousand.
INSTRUCTIONS IN SHOOTING WILD-GEESE
Where the main object is _close quarters_, ordinary 12-bore guns
suffice. But since geese are very strong and heavily clad, large shot is
a necessity, say No. 1.
Thirty to thirty-five yards should be regarded as the outside range,
with forty yards as an extreme limit. The latter, however, should only
be attempted in exceptional cases, and never when shooting in company.
Should two guns be employed, the case of the second is, of course,
different. It may be loaded with larger shot--say AAA--which is
effective up to fifty yards.
The speed of geese (like that of bustards) is extremely deceptive--as
much so as their apparent nearness when really far out of shot. When in
full flight geese travel as fast as ducks or as driven grouse, though
their relatively slow wing-beats give a totally false impression
thereof. It is a safe rule for beginners to allow _double_ that forward
swing of the gun that may appear needful to inexpert eyes.
Even when geese are slowing down to alight, the impetus of their flight
is still far greater than it appears.
It is a mistake to suppose (as many urge) that geese cannot be killed
coming in, that the shot then "glances off their steely plumage," or
that you "must let them pass over and shoot from behind," etc., etc. The
cause of all these frequent misapprehensions is--the old, old
story--_too far back!_ Hold another foot ahead--or a yard, according to
circumstance--and this dictum will be handsomely proved.
Never deliberately try to kill two at one shot; it results in killing
neither. But by shooting well ahead of _one_ goose that is seen to be
aligned with another beyond, _both_ may thus be secured.