ALIMAÑAS
THE MINOR BEASTS OF CHASE
We have no British equivalent for this generic term, applied in Spain to
a group of creatures, chiefly belonging to the canine, feline, and
viverrine families, that deserve a chapter to themselves. The Spanish
word _Alimañas_ includes the lynxes and wild-cats, foxes, mongoose,
genets, badgers, otters, and such like. It might therefore be rendered
as "vermin," but surely only in the benevolent sense--as it were, a term
of endearment. We have preferred the expression "minor beasts of chase,"
though it may be objected that such are not, in fact, beasts of chase.
We reply that hardly any wild animals are harder to secure in fair
contest or more capable of testing the venatic resource of the hunter.
For these animals are beasts-of-prey, and that fact alone implies
nothing less than that in their very nature and life-habits they must be
more cunning, more astute, than those other creatures (mostly game) on
which they are ordained to subsist. Moreover, being nocturnals, their
senses of sight, scent, and hearing all far exceed our own, and they
possess the enormous advantage that they see equally well in the dark.
Wild Spain, with her 56 per cent of desert or sparsely peopled regions,
is a paradise for predatory creatures--alike the furred and the
feathered--and _alimañas_ abound whether in the bush and scrub of her
torrid plains, or amid the heavier jungle of her mountain-ranges.
Numerous as they are, yet these night-rovers rarely come in evidence
unless one goes expressly in search of them. In regular shooting, with
organised parties, they are more or less ignored, or rather they pass
unseen through the lines, moving so silently and stealthily and always
choosing the thickest covert. With guns from 100 to 200 yards apart and
upwards, each intent on the larger game, the secretive _alimañas_ easily
get through--indeed, wolves and even big boars, though the crash of
brushwood may be heard, often pass unseen.
Many unconventional days have the authors enjoyed in express pursuit of
these keen-eyed creatures--call them vermin if you will. There are four
methods which we have found effective:
1. Short drives of individual jungles where sufficient open spaces occur
to leeward to enable the game to be seen.
2. Long drives of extensive jungles, converging on guns placed at points
that either command the probable lines of retreat, or cover some other
favourite resort wherein the quarry is likely to seek refuge.
3. Calling--in Spanish, _chillando_.
4. Watching at dawn or dusk, either with or without a "drag."
* * * * *
1. The first plan is, of course, the simplest; but it must be borne in
mind that this is essentially close-quarters' work--hence the utmost
silence is necessary. Horses must be picketed at least a mile back, for
the clank of hoof on rock or the clashing of the bucket-like Spanish
stirrups in bush will awaken even a dormouse. All proceed on foot; and
the whole plan having been arranged beforehand, not a word need now be
spoken, each gun taking his allotted place in silence. Guns may be as
far as 100 yards apart (since mould-shot is effective up to nearly that
range) and each man should station himself looking into the beat, so as
to command the intervening "opens," while himself absolutely concealed
and still as a stone god, since he is now competing with some of the
keenest eyes on earth. All the cats, moreover, come on so stealthily,
making good their advance yard by yard, that quite possibly a great
tawny lynx may be coolly surveying your position ere your eye has caught
the slightest movement ahead.
Nothing emphasises the amazing stealth of these silent creatures more
than such incidents: when suddenly you find, within twenty yards, a wild
beast, standing nearly two feet at shoulder, slowly approaching through
quite thin bush; how, in wonder's name, did it get so near unseen?
Foxes, as a rule, come bundling along with far less precaution and no
such vigilant look-out ahead, though they will instantly detect the
least _movement_ in front. A fox will often appear so deep in thought
as to be absolutely thunderstruck when he finds himself face to face
with a gun at six yards distance. In direst consternation he fairly
bounds around, describing a complete circle of fur; whereas a cat in
like circumstance merely deflects her course with coolest deliberation
and never a sign of alarm or increase of speed. But within six more
yards she will have vanished from view--covert or none. Adepts all are
the cats, alike in appearing one knows not whence, and in disappearing
one knows not how.
Yonder goes a fox, slowly trotting along below the crest, in his
self-sufficient, nonchalant style. His upstanding fur, long bushy brush,
and swollen neck appear to double his bulk and lend him quite an
imposing figure. But let a rifle-ball sing past his ears or dash up a
cloud of the sand below--what a transformation! One hardly now
recognises the long lean streak that whips up and over the ridge.
A handsome trophy is the Spanish lynx, especially those more brightly
coloured examples sparsely spotted with big black splotches arranged,
more or less, in interrupted lines. The ear-tufts--indeed in adults the
extreme tips of the ears themselves--point inwards and backwards; and
the narrow irides are pale yellow (between lemon and hazel), the pupil
being full, round, and black, nearly filling the circle. In the wild-cat
the pupil is a thin upright, set in a cruel pale-green iris.
We have tried FIRE as a means of securing the smaller _alimañas_, such
as mongoose, but it is seldom a thicket or _mancha_ can be so completely
isolated as to leave no line of escape. The animals, moreover, are
astute enough to retire under cover of the clouds of smoke that roll
away to leeward.
2. LONG DRIVES, extending over, say, a couple of miles of brush-wood
(which may contain half-a-dozen patches of thicker jungle, all
separate), give wide scope for skilled fieldcraft and demand no small
local knowledge. The first essential is "an eye for a country." There
are men to whom this faculty is denied; some seem incapable of acquiring
it. Others, again, appear correctly to diagnose even a difficult
country, with its chances, almost at a first experience. The favoured
haunts of game, together with their accustomed lines of retreat when
disturbed, must be studied. Each day, though engaged on other pursuit,
one's eye should be reading those lessons that are written in "spoor,"
and noting each commanding point and salient angle or other local
"advantage" in the terrain.
Such drives necessarily occupy more time; moreover, the precise lines of
entry along which game may approach are less restricted--hence follows
an even greater demand on that vigilance already emphasised. But to the
hunter the mental gratification, the sense of dominion achieved, is
ample reward when his deep-laid plans succeed and when along one or more
of his ambushed lines the cunning carnivorae pursue an unsuspecting
course.
Nature herself may assist by signs which set the expectant hunter yet
more instantly alert. A distant kite suddenly swerving or checking its
flight has seen _something_. The chattering of a band of magpies may
only mean that they have struck a "find," say a dead rabbit--_tacitus
pasci si posset corvus_, etc. But it may easily indicate a moving
nocturnal, and such signs should never be ignored. Similarly a covey of
partridges springing with continued cackling is a certain token of the
presence of an enemy; while a terrified-looking rabbit, with staring eye
and ears laid back, means that an interview is then instantly impending.
It may be necessary (as where a desert-stretch flanks the beat) to place
"stops" far outside. These are as important as in a grouse-drive, but
quite tenfold more difficult to array.
In these more extensive operations the lynx, in evading the guns, is
sometimes intercepted by the advancing pack behind. Then, if by luck the
cat can be forced into the open, she goes off at fine speed in great
bounds, as a leopard covers the veld, and (the horses in this case being
picketed close by) may sometimes be "tree'd" or run to bay in some
distant thicket. In that case the assistance of the hunters is needed,
for a lynx at bay will hold-up a whole pack of _podencos_, sitting erect
on her haunches with her back to the bush and dealing half-arm blows
with lightning speed. These _podencos_, it should be explained, are not
intended to close, since all high-couraged dogs, we find, meet a speedy
death from the tusks of wild-boars.
When pressed in the open, we have seen a lynx deliberately pass through
deep water that lay in her line of flight.
3. CALLING.--The coney was ever a puny folk, yet in Tarshish he thrives
and multiplies amidst numberless foes aloft and alow. From the heavens
above fierce eyes directing hooked beaks and clenched talons survey his
every movement; on the earth lynxes, cats, and foxes subsist chiefly on
him; while below ground foumart and mongoose penetrate his farthest
retreats year in and year out. He seems to possess absolutely no
protection, yet he endures all this, supports his enemies, and
increases, ever, to appearance, gaily unconscious of the perils that
beset him. Once, however, let misfortune overtake the rabbit, and his
cry of distress brings instant response--from scrub and sky, from
thicket and lurking lair, assemble the fiercer folk, each intent on his
flesh.
It is upon this fact that the system of calling, or, in Spanish,
_chillando_, is based. The instrument is simple. A crab's claw, or the
green bark of a two-inch twig slipped off its stalk, will, in the lips
of an adept, produce just such a cry of cunicular distress. Armed with
this, and observing the wind, one takes post concealed by bush but
commanding some open glade in front. The most favourable time is dawn
and dusk--the latter for choice, since then predatory animals are waking
up hungry. The first "call" by our Spanish companion almost startles by
its lifelike verisimilitude. At short intervals these ringing
distress-signals resound through the silent bush; if no response
follows, we try another spot. First, a distant kite or buzzard, hearing
the call, comes wheeling this way, but naturally the birds-of-prey from
their lofty point of view detect the human presence and pursue their
quest elsewhere. The rabbits themselves, from some inexplicable cause,
are among the first to respond.
Within that opposite wall of jungle you detect a furtive movement;
presently with jerky, spasmodic gait a rabbit darts out; it sits
trembling with staring eyes and ears laid aback; another rolls over on
its side and performs strange antics as though under hypnotic influence.
In two minutes you have a _séance_ of mesmerised rabbits.
My companion touches me on the arm; away beyond, and half behind him
(almost on the wind), stands a fox intently gazing. Before the gun can
be brought to bear it is necessary to step round the keeper's front, and
one expects that that first movement will mean the instant disappearance
of the vulpine. Not so! There he stands, statuesque, while the
manoeuvre is executed. Is he, too, hypnotised? On one occasion the
authors, standing shoulder to shoulder with the keeper behind them, were
only concealed by a single bush in front. At the third or fourth call a
wild-cat sprang from the thicket beyond, fairly flew the intervening
thirty yards at a bound, and landed in the single bush at our feet
(precisely where the "rabbit" should have been) before a gun could be
raised. What a marvellous exhibition of wild hunting!
In this case, too, we had had notice in advance by the noisy rising of a
pair of partridges sixty yards away in the bush. That cat scaled 12-1/2
lbs. dead-weight.
* * * * *
All the beasts-of-prey can be secured in this manner. February is their
pairing-season; but the best time for "calling" is a month or so
later--in March and April--when young rabbits appear and when the
_alimañas_ themselves have their litters to feed.
[Illustration: IMPERIAL EAGLE PASSING OVERHEAD
(The spectator is presumed to be lying on his back!)]
Feathered raptores, such as eagles, kites, and buzzards, can also be
obtained by "calling," but, as above indicated, their loftier position
enables them to see the guns, and it is necessary in their case to
prepare a covered shelter in which one can stand, concealed from above.
4. WATCHING.--The fourth and last system brings one face to face with
wild nature in her nocturnal aspects. Such aspects (to the majority of
mankind) are unknown; but night-work, whether at home, in Africa, or in
Spain, has always strongly appealed to the writers. Wild creatures do
not go to bed at night like lazy men; on the contrary, night is the
period of fullest activity for a large proportion of God's creation,
whether of fur or feather. To form an intimate personal acquaintance
(however imperfect) with these, the comfort of the blankets must be
sacrificed.
Where stretches of open country border or intersect jungle, or lie
between the nocturnal hunting-grounds of carnivorae and the thickets
where they lie-up by day, there one may enjoy hours of intense interest
in watching what passes under the moon. In the Coto Doñana we have many
such spots, some within an hour or two's ride of our shooting-lodges.
Here, when the moon shines full, and the soft south wind blows towards
the dark leagues of cistus and tree-heath behind us, we line-out three
or four guns, each looking outwards across glittering sand-wastes on his
front. There, on smooth expanse, one may detect every moving thing.
Those shadowy forms that seem to skim the surface without touching it
are stone-curlews, and beyond them is a less mobile object, whose
identity none would guess by sight. That is a _tortuga_, or
land-tortoise, tracing its singular double trail. Across the sand passes
a bigger shadow--rabbits and the rest all vanish. What was that shadow?
A strange growl overhead, and you see it is an eagle-owl that has
scattered the ghost-like groups. Now there is something on the far
skyline ahead--something that moves and puzzles--four mobile objects
that were not there five seconds ago. These prove to be the ears of two
hinds; presently the spiky horns of a stag appear behind them, and the
trio move slowly across our front, stopping to nibble some tuft of bent.
None of these are what we seek, but as dawn approaches you may (or may
not) detect the form of some beast-of-prey making for its lair in the
jungle behind you. Foxes, as their habit is, trot straight in; the lynx
comes with infinite caution. Should some starveling bush survive a
hundred yards out, she may stop, squatting on her haunches, half-hidden
in its shade. You can see there is something there, but the distance is
just beyond a sure range, and seldom indeed will that cat come nearer.
However low and still you have laid the while, she will, by some subtle
feline intuition, have gleaned (perhaps half unconsciously even to
herself) a sense of danger. When day has dawned, you will find the
retiring spoor winding backwards behind some gentle swell that leads to
an unseen hollow beyond--and to safety. Truly you agree when the keeper
says, "Lynxes see _best_ in the dark."
* * * * *
In a wide country it is of course purely fortuitous should any of these
animals approach within shot. To assure that result with greater
certainty we have adopted the plan of a "drag." Two or three hours
before taking our positions (that is, shortly after midnight), a keeper
rides along far outside on the sand, trailing behind his horse a bunch
of split-open rabbits. Upon arriving outside the intended position of
each gun, he directs his course inwards, thus dragging the bait close up
to the post. Then taking a fresh bunch of rabbits, he repeats the
operation to each post in turn. Thus every incoming beast must strike
the scented trail at one point or another. Occasionally one will follow
the drag right into the expectant gun, more often (the animals being
full at that hour) it will leave the trail after following it for a
greater or less distance. Some ignore it altogether. This applies to all
sorts. The sand, as day dawns, forms a regular lexicon of spoor. One can
trace each movement of the night. There go the plantigrade tracks of a
badger, and hard by the light-footed prints of mongoose, mice, and an
infinity of minor creatures.
* * * * *
Foxes most frequently capture their prey in fair chase, running them
down, as shown by the double spoor ending in blood. Lynxes never chase;
they kill by stalking, and a crouching spoor ends in a spring. Both
these habitually carry away or bury all they do not devour on the spot.
From the end of January onwards (that being the pairing-season) foxes
may often be seen abroad by daylight in couples, and in such case,
provided _they_ are _seen first_, are easily brought-up by "calling."
Lynxes never show-up so by daylight, but an hour or two before dawn
their weird wailing cries may be heard in the bush from mid-February
onwards.
* * * * *
The mongoose is perhaps the least easily secured, being absolutely
nocturnal and running so low (like a giant weasel) as to be almost
invisible, however slight the covert. It is, moreover, an adept at
concealment, and will scarcely be detected even at thirty yards if
stationary. The best way to secure specimens of badger and mongoose is
by digging-out their breeding-earths or warrens. An initial difficulty
is to find the earths amid leagues of scrub or rugged mountain-sides;
and even when located it may be necessary to burn off half an acre of
brushwood before the spade can be brought into action. From one set of
earths we have succeeded in digging out five big mongoose alive. That
night, though confined in strong wooden cases, they gnawed their way
out, and were never seen more, albeit their prison was on board a yacht
anchored in mid-stream and half-a-mile from shore.
* * * * *
A few such days and nights as these teach that wild Spain cherishes
other animals besides the game, to the full as interesting and even more
difficult to secure.
If we are asked (as we often have been before) why we molest creatures
which have no value when killed, we reply that almost without exception
our Spanish specimens have gone to enrich one collection or another,
public or private, and that during the year in which we write this the
authors spent a fortnight in obtaining a series of these animals for our
National Museum at South Kensington, with the following results:--[56]
Four lynxes--two males, 30-1/4 and 31 lbs.; two females, 18-1/2 and
23 lbs.--representing both types, namely, (1) that with many small
spots, and (2) the handsomer form with fewer large and conspicuous
blotches.
One wild-cat (an exceptional specimen)--a male of 15 lbs., with
yellow irides instead of the usual cold, cruel, pale-green eyes
like an unripe gooseberry. This cat was what the Spanish keepers
describe as _rayado_ = banded, _i.e._ the spots are arrayed in
regular series or interrupted bands rather than scattered
promiscuously. This race is distinguished as _gato clavo_, the
ordinary wild-cat being known as _gato romano_.
Several other wild-cats (_Gatos romanos_)--males weighing from
10-3/4 to 12-1/2 lbs.; females weighing from 7-1/2 to 8-1/4 lbs.
In the sierras wild-cats run heavier than this, for we have killed
in Moréna a wild-cat that scaled 7-3/4 kilos, or upwards of 17 lbs.
Two badgers--male, 17-1/2 lbs.; female, 14-1/2 lbs. These Spanish
badgers are blacker in the legs than British examples, and their
fore-claws are more powerfully developed, possibly in this case
through living in sand. Really big males weigh nearly double the
above.
Ten foxes (_Vulpes melanogaster_)--six males weighing 13-3/4, 14,
15 16-1/2, 16-1/2, 17 lbs.; four females weighing 11, 11-3/4,
13-1/2, 14 lbs.
Besides "small deer," such as rats and mice, voles, moles, and
dormice, to say nothing of a whole red-stag and a whole wild-boar!
[POSTSCRIPT]
_March 2, 1907._--_Chillando_ this evening at the Oyillos del Tio Juan
Roque, a big grey sow with numerous progeny came trotting up to within
a few yards--whether to devour the supposed rabbit or merely from
curiosity was not apparent. On realising the situation, she turned and
dashed off with an indignant snort, followed by her striped brood, but
did not go far before stopping (like Lot's wife) to listen and look
back.
Later, at the Sabinal, just upon dusk, a fox appeared about 120 yards
away, down-wind. Though quite aware of our presence, both by scent and
sight, he deliberately sat down on his haunches to watch; but no charm
of the _chillar_ would induce a nearer approach, and a rifle-ball
whistling within an inch or two of his ears broke the spell.
On May 16, 1910, a mongoose responded with unusual alacrity to the first
"call," running up within twenty yards. This was an adult male and
weighed 8-1/2 lbs.
* * * * *
We have endeavoured to rear some of these animals in captivity. The
young wild-cats are by far the most intractable--perfect fiends of
savage fury, quite unamenable to civilisation. The lynx at least affects
a measure of subjection, but remains always unreliable and treacherous
in spirit. The story of how one of our tame lynxes attacked and nearly
killed a poor _lavandera_ is told in _Wild Spain_, p. 447.