AFTER CHAMOIS IN THE ASTURIAS
PICOS DE EUROPA
At the château of Nuévos, hidden away amidst Cantabrian hills, hard by
where the "Picos de Europa" form the most prominent feature of that
100-mile range, we were welcomed by the Conde de la Vega de Sella, whom
we had met the previous year in Norway, and his friend Bernaldo de
Quirós. Our host was a bachelor and the menage curiously mixed; there
was a wild Mexican-Indian servant, but more alarming still, a tame wolf
prowled free about the house--none too tame either, as testified by a
half-healed wound on his master's arm. The bedrooms in the corridor
which we occupied had no doors, merely curtains hanging across the
doorway, and all night long that wolf pattered up and down the passage
outside. My own feelings will not be described--there was an ominous
mien in that wolf's eye and in those immense jaws.
[Illustration]
Beyond patches of maize and other minute crops grown in infinitesimal
fields divided by stone walls and surrounded by woods of chestnut and
hazel, the whole landscape surrounding the château was composed of
towering grey mountains. It was from this point that with our kind host
we had projected an expedition to form acquaintance with chamois, and to
see the system of a _montería_ as practised in the Biscayan mountains.
The month was September.
The first stage--on wheels--brought us to the village of Arénas de
Cabrales, where a gipsy fair or _Romería_ was raging, affording striking
display of local customs and fashion. The girls, handsome though
somewhat stalwart, wearing on their heads bright-coloured kerchiefs
(instead of, as in Andalucia, flowers in the hair), danced strange steps
to the music of a drum and a sort of bagpipe called the _Gaita_. Cider
here replaced wine as a beverage, and wooden sabots are worn instead of
the hempen sandals of the south.
Maize is the chief crop, and women work hard, doing, except the
ploughing, most of the field labour.
The hill-country around belonged chiefly to our host, who was received
with a sort of feudal respect. Ancient rights included (this we were
told, but did not see enforced) the privilege of kissing all pretty
daughters of the estate. The region is primitive enough even for the
survival of so agreeable a custom. Such detail in a serious work must
appear frivolous by comparison, yet it reflects the _genius loci_.
This was the point at which we had to take the hill.
Our outfit was packed on ponies, and being joined by three of the
chamois-hunters, we set out, following the course of the river Cares.
This gorge of the Cares, along with its sister-valley the Desfiladero de
la Deva, form two of the most magnificent canyons in all the Asturias,
and perhaps have few equals in the wider world outside. The bridle-track
led along rock-shelves on the hanging mountain-side, presently falling
again till we rode close by the torrent of the Cares, here swirling in
foaming rapids with alternations of deep pools of such crystalline water
that trout could be discerned swimming twenty feet below the surface.
The water varied between a diamond-white and an emerald-green, according
as the stream flowed over the white limestone or rocks of darker shade.
Approaching Bulnes, the track became absolutely appalling, zigzagging to
right and left up an almost perpendicular mountain. Riding was here out
of the question. It was giddy work enough on foot, rounding corners
where the outer rim overhung a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to the
torrent below, and with no protection to save horse or man in the event
of a slip or false step. Not without mental tremors we surmounted it and
reached Bulnes, a dozen stone, windowless houses clustered on an
escarpment. This is facetiously called the "Upper Town," and we
presumed that another group of hovels hidden somewhere beneath our sight
formed Lower Bulnes.
We entered the best looking of these stone-age abodes, and discovered
that it formed the presbytery of the Cura of Bulnes, a strange mixture
of alpine hut with Gothic hermitage. Slabs of rough stone projecting
from unhewn walls served as tables, while rudely carved oak-chests did
double duty as seats or wardrobes in turn. The Cura's bed occupied one
corner, and from the walls hung gun and rifle, together with
accoutrements of the chase--satchels, belts, and pouches, all made of
chamois-skin. At first sight indeed the whole presbytery reeked rather
of hunting than of holiness--it is scarce too strong to say it smelt of
game. An inner apartment, windowless and lit by the feeble flicker of a
_mariposa_, that recalled the reed-lights of mediaeval history (and to
which, by the way, access was only gained past other cells which
appeared to be the abode of cows and of the cook respectively), was
assigned to us.
The Padre himself was away on the cliffs above cutting hay, for he
combines agriculture with the care of souls, owns many cows, and makes
the celebrated cheese known as "Cabrales." Presently he joined us in his
stone chamber, and at once showed himself to be, by his frank and
genuine manner, what later experience proved him, a true sportsman and a
most unselfish companion. His Reverence at once set about the details of
organising our hunt, sent his nephew to round-up the mountain lads, some
being sent off at once to spend that night, how, we know not, in crags
of the Peña Vieja, while others were instructed to join us there in the
morning.
While we dined on smoked chamois and rough red wine he busied himself
arranging weapons, ammunition, and mocassins for a few days' work on the
crags. Our arrival having been prearranged, we were soon on our upward
way, by sinous tracks which lead to the summits of the Picos de Europa,
some altitudes of which are as follows: Peña Vieja, 10,046 feet; Picos
de Hierro, 9610 feet; Pico de San Benigno, 9329 feet. All heavy baggage
was left below; there only remained the tent, rugs, guns, and
cartridges, and these were got up, heaven knows how, to about half the
required height on the backs of two donkeys. For provisions we relied on
the milk and bread of the cheese-makers who live up there, much in the
style of the Norwegian peasants at their _saeters_, or summer sheilings
on the fjeld. Hard by the _cabaña_, or cabin, of these honest folks, our
tent was pitched--altitude, 5800 feet.
With the first of the daylight, after a drink of milk, we started
upwards, our host, the Cura, Bertie, and ourselves.
With us were ten goat-herds who had to flank the drive; the others would
already be occupying allotted positions, we knew not where. Three hours'
climbing--the usual struggle, only worse--took us to the first line of
"passes," far above the last signs of vegetation and amidst what little
snow remains here in summer. This "drive" had been reckoned a certainty,
and four animals were reported seen in the mist, but no chamois came in
to the guns, and yet another two-hours' climb had to be faced ere the
second set of posts was reached.
This bit, however, definitely stopped for the moment my career as a
chamois-hunter, such was the slippery, perpendicular, and utterly
dangerous nature of the rocks. A fortnight before I had climbed the
Plaza de Almanzór in the Sierra de Grédos, but these pinnacles of the
Picos proved beyond my powers. The admission, beyond any words of mine,
bespeaks the character of these Cantabrian peaks. Here on a dizzy ledge
at 8000 feet I remained behind, while the rest of the party, filing up a
rock-stair, were lost to sight within fifteen yards.
Before me stretched away peak beyond peak in emulating altitudes the
whole vast cordillera of Cantabria--a glory of mountain-forms.
...the things which tower, which shine,
Whose smile makes glad, whose frown is terrible.
In majestic array, pinnacles and crannied summits, flecked and streaked
with glistening snows, enthral and subdue. The giants Peña Vieja,
Urriales, Garnizo, lift their heads above the rest, piercing the blue
ether--fancied spires in some celestial shrine.
This smiling noontide an all-pervading spirit of peace reigns; the
sublimity of solitude generates reverence and awe, the voice of the
Creator seems audible amidst encompassing silence.
Far away below, as in another world, lie outspread champaigns; sunlit
stubbles, newly stripped of autumnal crops, form chequers of contrasted
colour that set off with golden background the dark Asturian woods,
while fresh green pastures blend in harmony with the riant foliage of
the vine.
Presently, following my companion, a goat-herd, who had been left with
me, by slow degrees we reached the spot appointed to await our party's
return.
[Illustration: THE HOME OF THE CHAMOIS.
CHAMOIS FROM LIFE ON LA LLOROSA, PEÑA VIEJA.
EL CORROBLE, PICOS DE EUROPA, ASTURIAS.]
Hours went by and six o'clock came before, on the skyline above, they
appeared, five of the _monteros_ each bearing a chamois on his shoulder.
Then, in the 2000-feet ravine towards the north, a third drive was
attempted for my special benefit; but the day was far spent, and during
the crucial half-hour snow-clouds skurrying along the crests shut out
all chance of seeing game. The beaters reported enclosing quite forty
chamois, some of which broke downwards through the flankers, the rest
passing a trifle wide of the guns. This beat is termed "El Arbol."
Long and weary was the descent, and fiendish places we had to pass ere
the welcome camp-fires loomed up through gathering darkness. Those who
wish to shoot chamois should commence the undertaking before they have
passed the half-century.
The successful drive that was thus missed by No. 1 is hereunder
described by No. 2. We give the narrative in detail, inasmuch as this
day's operation was typical of the system of chamois-shooting as
practised in the Asturian mountains.
After leaving No. 1 as mentioned, and while proceeding to our next
position, a number of chamois were viewed scattered in three groups on
the hanging screes of a second gorge, a mile beyond that which we had
intended to beat. After consultation held, it was decided to alter the
plan and to send the guns completely round the outer periphery of
encircling heights so as to command the passes immediately above the
game. This involved two hours' climbing and incidentally three detours,
scrambling each time down the precipitous moraine to avoid showing in
sight of the chamois.
Upon reaching the reverse point, the Conde and I were assigned the most
likely posts; and these being also the highest, a final heart-breaking
climb up a thousand feet of loose rocks succeeded. Chamois, like ibex,
when disturbed instinctively make for the highest ground, hence our
occupation of the topmost passes. Cheered on by the Conde, himself as
hard as steel, the effort was accomplished, and I sank down, breathless,
parched, and exhausted, behind a big rock that was indicated as my
position. The lower passes had meanwhile been occupied by the Padre and
by sundry shepherds armed with primitive-looking guns.
On recovering some degree of breath and strength, I surveyed my
surroundings. We were both stationed on the topmost arête, in a nick
that broke for 80 or 100 yards the rim of a knife-edged ridge that
separated two stupendous gorges. On my right, while facing the beat, and
not 30 yards away, the nick was terminated by a rock-mass perpendicular
and four-square as a cathedral tower, that uprose some 100 feet sheer.
On the left also rose cliffs though not quite so abrupt. The position
was such that any game attempting to pass the nick must appear within 50
or 60 yards--so, in our simplicity, we thought.
[Illustration: A CHAMOIS DRIVE--PICOS DE EUROPA
Diagram illustrative of text. Our positions on arête marked (1) and (2);
"Cathedral" on right. Valley beyond full of driving mist (passing our
power to depict).]
Behind us dipped away the long moraine of loose rocks by which we had
ascended; while in front, by stepping but a few paces across the narrow
neck, we could look down into the depths of the gorge whence the quarry
was to approach, as we feebly attempt to show in diagram annexed.
The panorama from these altitudes was superb beyond words. We were here
far above the stratum of mist which enshrouded our camp and the sierra
for some distance above it. We looked down upon a billowy sea of white
clouds pierced here and there by the summits and ridges of outstanding
crags like islands on a surf-swept coast.
Of bird-life there was no sign beyond choughs and a soaring eagle that
our guides called aguila pintada (_Aquila bonellii_, immature). There
are wild-boar in the forests far below, with occasional wolves and yet
more occasional bear.
Hark! the distant cries of beaters break the solemn silence and announce
that operations have begun. Almost instantly thereafter the rattle of
loose stones dislodged by the feet of moving chamois came up from
beneath our eyrie. So near was the sound that expectation waxed tense
and eyes scanned each possible exit.
Then from the heights on the left, and already above us, sprang into
view a band of five chamois lightly skipping from ledge to ledge with an
agility that cannot be conveyed in words. The Conde and I fired
simultaneously. The beast I had selected pulled himself convulsively
together, sprang in air, and then fell backwards down the abyss whence
he had just emerged. So abrupt was the skyline that no second barrel was
possible; but while we yet gazed into space the rattle of falling stones
right _behind_ attracted attention in that direction, and a chamois was
bounding across that loose moraine (or "canal" as it is here called) by
which we had ascended. He flew those jumbled rocks as though they were a
ballroom floor, offering at best but a snapshot, and the bullet found
the beast already protected by a rock. Hardly, however, had cartridges
been replaced than three more _Rebecos_ followed along precisely the
same track, and this time each gun secured one buck.
Note that all these last four animals had come in from our _right_, that
is, they had escaladed the "cathedral"; though by what earthly means
they could surmount sheer rock-walls devoid of visible crack or crevice
passes human comprehension. For myself, having regarded the cathedral
as impassable, I had kept no watch on that side.
For the next half-hour all was quiet. Then we heard again the rattle of
hoofs somewhere down under, and on the sound ceasing, had gently raised
ourselves to peer over into the eerie abyss in front, when a chamois
suddenly poked his head over the rocks within fifteen yards, only to
vanish like a flash.
From this advanced position, in the far distance we could now
distinguish the beaters, looking like flies as they descended the
opposite circle of crests, and could hear their cries and the
reverberation of the rocks they dislodged to start the game. An extra
burst of clamour denoted game afoot, and a few seconds later another
chamois (having once more mocked the cathedral barrier) darted across
the moraine behind and fell within a score of yards of the previous
pair, though all three were finally recovered several hundred feet
below, having rolled down these precipitous screes. The first chamois I
had shot had fallen even farther--at one point over a sheer drop that
could not be less than 100 feet. His body was smashed into pulp, every
bone broken, but curiously the horns had escaped intact. We were much
struck by the clear emerald-green light in the eyes of newly killed
chamois.
The beaters being now close at hand, we scrambled down to rejoin the
Padre who had occupied the _puesto_ next below ours. We found that
worthy man very happy as he had succeeded in putting two slugs into a
chamois-buck, to which the _coup de grâce_ had been given by Don Serafin
lower down.
A curious incident occurred as we made our way to the next beat where
"No. 1" was to rejoin us. Suddenly the rugged stones that surrounded us
were vivified by a herd of bouncing chamois--they had presumably been
disturbed elsewhere and several came our way. A buck fell to a long shot
of our host; while another suddenly sprang into view right under the
Padre's feet. This, he averred, he would certainly have killed had he
been loaded with slugs (_postas_) instead of ball.
The six chamois brought into camp to-night included four bucks and two
does. We had not ourselves found it possible to distinguish the sexes in
life, though long practice enabled the Conde to do so when within
moderate distance. All six were of a foxy-red colour, and the horns
measured from seven to eight inches over the bend.
Chamois are certainly very much easier to obtain than ibex. Not only are
they tenfold more abundant, but, owing to their diurnal habits, they are
easily seen while feeding in broad daylight (often in large herds) on
the open hillsides. They never enter caves or crevices of the rocks as
ibex habitually do.
Chamois might undoubtedly be obtained by stalking, though that art is
not practised in Spain. The excessively rugged nature of the ground is
rather against it; for one's view being often so restricted, there is
danger while stalking chamois, which have been espied from a distance,
of "jumping" others previously unseen though much nearer. Driving, as
above described, is the method usually adopted. Few beaters
comparatively are required; the positions of flankers and stops are
often clearly indicated by the natural configuration of the crests.
Dogs are occasionally employed. The game, in their terror of canine
pursuers, will push forward into precipices whence there is no exit; and
then, rather than attempt to turn, will spring down to certain death.
The best foot-gear is the Spanish _alpargata_, or hemp-soled sandal.
They will withstand two or three days' wear on the roughest of rocks and
only cost some eighteenpence a pair. Nailed boots are useless and
dangerous.
Similar days followed, some more successful, others less, but all
laborious in the last degree. Both limbs and lungs had well-nigh given
out ere the time arrived to strike camp and abandon our eyrie.
During the descent to Bulnes we noticed a goat which, in feeding along
the crags, had reached a spot whence it could neither retreat nor
escape, and by bleating cries distinctly displayed its fear. Now that
goat was only worth one dollar, yet its owner spent a solid hour,
risking his own life, in crawling along ledges and shelves of a fearful
rock-wall (_pared_) to save the wretched animal. We looked on
speechless, fascinated with horror--at times pulses well-nigh stood
still; even our hunters recognised that this was a rash performance. Yet
that goat was reached, a lasso attached to its neck, and it was drawn
upwards to safety.
This incident occurred on the Naranjo de Bulnes, a dolomite mountain
which stands out like a perpendicular and four-square tower, in the
central group or _massif_ of the Picos--that known as Urriales. The
actual height of the Naranjo is given as 9424 feet, which is exceeded by
those of either of the other two groups to east and west respectively.
But its abrupt configuration gives the Naranjo by far the most imposing,
indeed appalling appearance, far surpassing all its rivals, while its
lateral walls of sheer rock, some of which reach 1500 to 2000 feet
vertically, long lent this peak the reputation of being absolutely
unscalable. That feat has, however (after countless failures), been
accomplished, in the first instance by Don Pedro Pidal, Marquis de
Villaviciosa de Asturias, who was accompanied in the ascent by Gregorio
Perez, a famous chamois-hunter of Caïn.
At Arénas de Cabrales we bade farewell to our kind host, despatched
Caraballo with the baggage to Santandér, thence to find his way to Jerez
as best he might, by sea; and ourselves drove off through the hills
forty miles to the railway at Cabezón de la Sal, there to entrain for
Bilbao, Paris, and London.
* * * * *
On August 19, 1881, at a royal _montería_ above Aliva and Andara H.M.
Don Alfonso XII. recovered the same evening (lying dead around his post)
no less than twenty-one chamois. Thirteen more, which had fallen into
the abyss beneath, were brought in next morning, and nine others later,
making a total of forty-three chamois actually recovered, besides those
that had lodged in such inaccessible spots that their bodies could not
be reached.
At another royal shoot held 1st and 2nd September 1905 H.M. King Alfonso
XIII. killed five chamois, the total bag on that occasion being
twenty-three.
THE PICOS DE EUROPA DECLARED A ROYAL PRESERVE
In 1905 the freeholders of those villages in the three provinces of
Santandér, León, and Asturias, which lie encircling the Picos de Europa,
offered to H.M. King Alfonso XIII. the exclusive rights of hunting the
chamois throughout the whole "Central Group." His Majesty was pleased to
accept the offer, and in the following year commissioned the Marquis of
Villaviciosa de Asturias (the intrepid conqueror of the Naranjo) to
appoint guards to preserve the game.
Five such guards were appointed in 1906, their chief being the
aforementioned Gregorio Perez, representing the region of Caïn, the
other four representing those of Bulnes, Sotres, Espiñama, and Valdeón.
The chamois in the four regions named can be counted in thousands.
[Illustration: TYPES OF SPANISH BIRD-LIFE
HOOPOE (_Upupa epops_)
The crest normally folds flat, backwards (as shown at p. 69), but at
intervals flashes upright like a halo.]