During our next day's march the only incident that befel us was the
breaking of our waggon-tongue, which delayed our journey. There was
plenty of good hickory-wood near the place, and Jake, with a little help
from Redwood and Ike and Lanty, soon spliced it again, making it
stronger than ever. Of course it shortened our journey for the day, and
we encamped at the end of a ten miles' march. Strange to say, on the
whole ten miles we did not meet with a single animal to give us a little
sport, or to form the subject of our camp talk.
We were not without a subject, however, as our English friend proposed
giving us an account of the mode of hunting the vicuna, and the details
of a week's hunting he had enjoyed upon the high table-lands of the
Peruvian Andes. He also imparted to our camp-fire circle much
information about the different species of that celebrated animal the
llama or "camel-sheep" of Peru, which proved extremely interesting, not
only to the old hunter-naturalist, but to the "mountain-men," to whom
this species of game, as well as the mode of hunting it, was something
new.
Thompson began his narrative as follows:--"When Pizarro and his
Spaniards first climbed the Peruvian Andes, they were astonished at
seeing a new and singular species of quadrupeds, the camel-sheep, so
called from their resemblance to these two kinds of animals. They saw
the `llama' domesticated and trained to carrying burdens, and the
`alpaca,' a smaller species, reared on account of its valuable fleece.
"But there were still two other species of these odd animals only
observed in a wild state, and in the more desolate and uninhabited parts
of the Cordilleras. These were the `guanaco' and `vicuna.'
"Up to a very late period the guanaco was believed to be the llama in
its wild state, and by some the llama run wild. This, however, is not
the case. The four species, llama, alpaca, guanaco, and vicuna as quite
distinct from each other, and although the guanaco can be tamed and
taught to carry burdens, its labour is not of sufficient value to render
this worth while. The alpaca is never used as a beast of burden. Its
fleece is the consideration for which it is domesticated and reared, and
its wool is much finer and more valuable than that of the llama.
"The guanaco is, perhaps, the least prized of the four, as its fleece is
of indifferent quality, and its flesh is not esteemed. The vicuna, on
the contrary, yields a wool which is eagerly sought after, and which in
the Andes towns will sell for at least five times its weight in alpaca
wool. Ponchos woven out of it are deemed the finest made, and command
the fabulous price of 20 pounds or 30 pounds sterling. A rich
proprietor in the cordilleras is often seen with such a poncho, and the
quality of the garment, the length of time it will turn rain, etcetera,
are favourite subjects of conversation with the wearers of them. Of
course everybody in those parts possesses one, as everybody in England
or the United States must have a great coat; but the ponchos of the
poorer classes of Peruvians--the Indian labourers, shepherds, and
miners--are usually manufactured out of the coarse wool of the llama.
Only the `ricos' can afford the beautiful fabric of the vicuna's fleece.
"The wool of the vicuna being so much in demand, it will be easily
conceived that hunting the animal is a profitable pursuit; and so it is.
In many parts of the Andes there are regular vicuna hunters, while, in
other places, whole tribes of Peruvian Indians spend a part of every
year in the chase of this animal and the guanaco. When we go farther
south, in the direction of Patagonia, we find other tribes who subsist
principally upon the guanaco, the vicuna, and the rhea or South-American
ostrich.
"Hunting the vicuna is by no means an easy calling. The hunter must
betake himself to the highest and coldest regions of the Andes--far from
civilised life, and far from its comforts. He has to encamp in the open
air, and sleep in a cave or a rude hut, built by his own hands. He has
to endure a climate as severe as a Lapland winter, often in places where
not a stick of wood can be procured, and where he is compelled to cook
his meals with the dry ordure of wild cattle.
"If not successful in the chase he is brought to the verge of
starvation, and must have recourse to roots and berries--a few species
of which, such as the tuberous root `maca,' are found growing in these
elevated regions. He is exposed, moreover, to the perils of the
precipice, the creaking `soga' bridge, the slippery path, and the hoarse
rushing torrent--and these among the rugged Cordilleras of the Andes are
no mean dangers. A life of toil, exposure, and peril is that of the
vicuna hunter.
"During my travels in Peru I had resolved to enjoy the sport of hunting
the vicuna. For this purpose I set out from one of the towns of the
Lower Sierra, and climbed up the high region known as the `Puna,' or
sometimes as the `Despoblado' (the uninhabited region).
"I reached at length the edge of a plain to which I had mounted by many
a weary path--up many a dark ravine. I was twelve or fourteen thousand
feet above sea level, and although I had just parted from the land of
the palm-tree and the orange, I was now in a region cold and sterile.
Mountains were before and around me--some bleak and dark, others shining
under a robe of snow, and still others of that greyish hue as if snow
had freshly fallen upon them, but not enough to cover their stony
surface. The plain before me was several miles in circumference. It
was only part of a system of similar levels separated from each other by
spurs of the mountains. By crossing a ridge another comes in view, a
deep cleft leads you into a third, and so on.
"These table plains are too cold for the agriculturist. Only the cereal
barley will grow there, and some of those hardy roots--the natives of an
arctic zone. But they are covered with a sward of grass--the `ycha'
grass, the favourite food of the llamas--and this renders them
serviceable to man. Herds of half-wild cattle may be seen, tended by
their wilder-looking shepherds. Flocks of alpacas, female llamas with
their young, and long-tailed Peruvian sheep, stray over them, and to
some extent relieve their cheerless aspect. The giant vulture--the
condor, wheels above all, or perches on the jutting rock. Here and
there, in some sheltered nook, may be seen the dark mud hut of the
`vaquero' (cattle herd), or the man himself, with his troop of savage
curs following at his heels, and this is all the sign of habitation or
inhabitant to be met with for hundreds of miles. This bleak land, up
among the mountain tops of the Andes, as I have already said, is called
the `Puna.'
"The Puna is the favourite haunt of the vicuna, and, of course, the home
of the vicuna hunter. I had directions to find one of these hunters,
and an introduction to him when found, and after spending the night at a
shepherd's hut, I proceeded next morning in search of him--some ten
miles farther into the mountains.
"I arrived at the house, or rather hovel, at an early hour.
Notwithstanding, my host had been abroad, and was just returned with
full hands, having a large bundle of dead animals in each. They were
chinchillas and viscachas, which he had taken out of his snares set
overnight. He said that most of them had been freshly caught, as their
favourite time of coming out of their dens to feed is just before
daybreak.
"These two kinds of animals, which in many respects resemble our
rabbits, also resemble each other in habits. They make their nests in
crevices of the rocks, to which they retreat, when pursued, as rabbits
to their burrows. Of course, they are snared in a very similar manner--
by setting the snares upon, their tracks, and at the entrances to their
holes. One difference I noted. The Peruvian hunter used snares made of
twisted horse-hair, instead of the spring wire employed by our
gamekeepers and poachers. The chinchilla is a much more beautiful
creature than the viscacha, and is a better-known animal, its soft and
beautifully-marbled fur being an article of fashionable wear in the
cities of Europe.
"As I approached his hut, the hunter had just arrived with the night's
produce of his snares, and was hanging them up to the side of the
building, skinning them one by one. Not less than half a score of
small, foxy-looking dogs were around him--true native dogs of the
country.
"Of the disposition of these creatures I was soon made aware. No sooner
had they espied me, than with angry yelps the whole pack ran forward to
meet me, and came barking and grinning close around the feet of my
horse. Several of them sprang upward at my legs, and would, no doubt,
have bitten them, had I not suddenly raised my feet up to the withers,
and for some time held them in that position. I have no hesitation in
saying that had I been afoot, I should have been badly torn by the curs;
nor do I hesitate to say, that of all the dogs in the known world, these
Peruvian mountain dogs are the most vicious and spiteful. They will
bite even the friends of their own masters, and very often their masters
themselves have to use the stick to keep them in subjection. I believe
the dogs found among many tribes of your North-American Indians have a
very similar disposition, though by no means to compare in fierceness
and savage nature with their cousins of the cold Puna.
"The masters of these dogs are generally Indians, and it is a strange
fact, that they are much more spiteful towards the whites than Indians.
It is difficult for a white man to get on friendly terms with them.
"After a good deal of kicking and cuffing, my host succeeded in making
his kennel understand that I had not come there to be eaten up. I then
alighted from my horse, and walked (I should say crawled) inside the
hut.
"This was, as I have already stated, a mere hovel. A circular wall of
mud and stone, about five feet high, supported a set of poles that
served as rafters. These poles were the flower stalks of the great
American aloe, or maguey-plant--the only thing resembling wood that grew
near. Over these was laid a thick layer of Puna grass, which was tied
with strong ropes of the same material, to keep it from flying off when
the wind blew violently, which it there often does. A few blocks of
stone in the middle of the floor constituted the fireplace, and the
smoke got out the best way it could through a hole in the roof.
"The owner of this mansion was a true Indian, belonging to one of those
tribes of the mountains that could not be said ever to have been
conquered by the Spaniards. Living in remote districts, many of these
people never submitted to the _repartimientos_, yet a sort of religious
conquest was made of some of them by the missionaries, thus bringing
them under the title of `Indios mansos' (tame Indians), in
contradistinction to the `Indios bravos,' or savage tribes, who remain
unconquered and independent to this day.
"As already stated, I had come by appointment to share the day's hunt.
I was invited to partake of breakfast. My host, being a bachelor, was
his own cook, and some parched maize and `macas,' with a roasted
chinchilla, furnished the repast.
"Fortunately, I carried with me a flask of Catalan brandy; and this,
with a cup of water from the icy mountain spring, rendered our meal more
palatable I was not without some dry tobacco, and a husk to roll it in,
so that we enjoyed our cigar; but what our hunter enjoyed still more was
a `coceada,' for he was a regular chewer of `coca.' He carried his
pouch of chinchilla skin filled with the dried leaves of the coca plant,
and around his neck was suspended the gourd bottle, filled with burnt
lime and ashes of the root of the `molle' tree.
"All things arranged, we started forth. It was to be a `still' hunt,
and we went afoot, leaving our horses safely tied by the hut. The
Indian took with him only one of his dogs--a faithful and trusty one, on
which, he could rely.
"We skirted the plain, and struck into a defile in the mountains. It
led upwards, among rocky boulders. A cold stream gurgled in its bottom,
now and then leaping over low falls, and churned into foam. At times
the path was a giddy one, leading along narrow ledges, rendered more
perilous by the frozen snow, that lay to the depth of several inches.
Our object was to reach the level of a plain still higher, where my
companion assured me we should be likely to happen upon a herd of
vicunas.
"As we climbed among the rocks, my eye was attracted by a moving object,
higher up. On looking more attentively, several animals were seen, of
large size, and reddish-brown colour. I took them at first for deer, as
I was thinking of that animal. I saw my mistake in a moment. They were
not deer, but creatures quite as nimble. They were bounding from rock
to rock, and running along the narrow ledges with the agility of the
chamois. These must be the vicunas, thought I.
"`No,' said my companion; `guanacos--nothing more.'
"I was anxious to have a shot at them.
"`Better leave them now,' suggested the hunter; `the report would
frighten the vicunas, if they be in the plain--it is near. I know these
guanacos. I know where they will retreat to--a defile close by--we can
have a chance at them on our return.'
"I forbore firing, though I certainly deemed the guanacos within shot,
but the hunter was thinking of the more precious skin of the vicunas,
and we passed on. I saw the guanacos run for a dark-looking cleft
between two mountain spurs.
"`We shall find them in there,' muttered my companion, `that is their
haunt.'
"Noble game are these guanacos--large fine animals--noble game as the
red deer himself. They differ much from the vicunas. They herd only in
small numbers, from six to ten or a dozen: while as many as four times
this number of vicunas may be seen together. There are essential points
of difference in the habits of the two species. The guanacos are
dwellers among the rocks, and are most at home when bounding from cliff
to cliff, and ledge to ledge. They make but a poor run upon the level
grassy plain, and their singular contorted hoofs seem to be adapted for
their favourite haunts. The vicunas, on the contrary, prefer the smooth
turf of the table plains, over which they dart with the swiftness of the
deer. Both are of the same family of quadrupeds, but with this very
essential difference--the one is a dweller of the level plain, the other
of the rocky declivity; and nature has adapted each to its respective
_habitat_."
Here the narrator was interrupted by the hunter-naturalist, who stated
that he had observed this curious fact in relation to other animals of a
very different genus, and belonging to the _fauna_ of North America.
"The animals I speak of," said he, "are indigenous to the region of the
Rocky Mountains, and well-known to our trapper friends here. They are
the big horn (_Ovis montana_) and the prong-horned antelope (_A.
furcifer_). The big horn is usually denominated a sheep, though it
possesses far more of the characteristics of the deer and antelope
families. Like the chamois, it is a dweller among the rocky cliffs and
declivities, and only there does it feel at home, and in the full
enjoyment of its faculties for security. Place it upon a level plain,
and you deprive it of confidence, and render its capture comparatively
easy. At the base of these very cliffs on which the _Ovis montana_
disports itself, roams the prong-horn, not very dissimilar either in
form, colour, or habits; and yet this creature, trusting to its heels
for safety, feels at home and secure only on the wide open plain where
it can see the horizon around it! Such is the difference in the mode of
life of two species of animals almost cogenerie, and I am not surprised
to hear you state that a somewhat like difference exists between the
guanaco and vicuna."
The hunter-naturalist was again silent, and the narrator continued.
"A few more strides up the mountain pass brought us to the edge of the
plain, where we expected to see the vicunas. We were not disappointed.
A herd was feeding upon it, though at a good distance off. A beautiful
sight they were, quite equalling in grace and stateliness the lordly
deer. In fact, they might have passed for the latter to an unpractised
eye, particularly at that season when deer are `in the red.' Indeed the
vicuna is more deer-like than any other animal except the antelope--much
more so than its congeners the llama, alpaca, or guanaco. Its form is
slender, and its gait light and agile, while the long tapering neck and
head add to the resemblance. The colour, however, is peculiarly its
own, and any one accustomed to seeing the vicuna can distinguish the
orange-red of its silky coat at a glance, and at a great distance. So
peculiar is it, that in Peru the `_Colour de vicuna_' (vicuna colour)
has become a specific name.
"My companion at once pronounced the animals before us a herd of
vicunas. There were about twenty in all, and all except one were
quietly feeding on the grassy plain. This one stood apart, his long
neck raised high in air, and his head occasionally turning from side to
side, as though he was keeping watch for the rest. Such was in fact the
duty he was performing; he was the leader of the herd--the patriarch,
husband and father of the flock. All the others were ewes or young
ones. So affirmed my companion.
"The vicuna is polygamous--fights for his harem with desperate
fierceness, watches over its number while they feed or sleep, chooses
the ground for browsing and rest--defends them against enemies--heads
them in the advance, and covers their retreat with his own `person'--
such is the domestic economy of the vicuna.
"`Now, senor,' said the hunter, eyeing the herd, `if I could only kill
him (he pointed to the leader) I would have no trouble with the rest. I
should get every one of them.'
"`How?' I inquired.
"`Oh!--they would!--ha! The very thing I wished for!'
"`What?'
"`They are heading towards yonder rocks.' He pointed to a clump of
rocky boulders that lay isolated near one side of the plain--`let us get
there, comrade--_vamos_!'
"We stole cautiously round the edge of the mountain until the rocks lay
between us and the game; and then crouched forward and took our position
among them. We lay behind a jagged boulder, whose seamed outline looked
as if it had been designed for loop-hole firing. It was just the cover
we wanted.
"We peeped cautiously through the cracks of the rock. Already the
vicunas were near, almost within range of our pieces. I held in my
hands a double-barrel, loaded in both barrels with large-sized
buck-shot; my companion's weapon was a long Spanish rifle.
"I received his instructions in a whisper. I was not to shoot until he
had fired. Both were to aim at the leader. About this he was
particular, and I promised obedience.
"The unconscious herd drew near. The leader, with the long white silky
hair hanging from his breast, was in the advance, and upon him the eyes
of both of us were fixed. I could observe his glistening orbs, and his
attitude of pride, as he turned at intervals to beckon his followers on.
"`I hope he has got the worms,' muttered my companion; `if he has, he'll
come to rub his hide upon the rocks.'
"Some such intention was no doubt guiding the vicuna, for at that moment
it stretched forth its neck, and trotted a few paces towards us. It
suddenly halted. The wind was in our favour, else we should have been
scented long ago. But we were suspected. The creature halted, threw up
its head, struck the ground with its hoof, and uttered a strange cry,
somewhat resembling the whistling of a deer. The echo of that cry was
the ring of my companion's rifle, and I saw the vicuna leap up and fall
dead upon the plain.
"I expected the others to break off in flight, and was about to fire at
them though they were still at long range. My companion prevented me.
"`Hold!' he whispered, `you'll have a better chance--see there!--now, if
you like, Senor!'
"To my surprise, the herd, instead of attempting to escape, came
trotting up to where the leader lay, and commenced running around at
intervals, stooping over the body, and uttering plaintive cries.
"It was a touching sight, but the hunter is without pity for what he
deems his lawful game. In an instant I had pulled both triggers, and
both barrels had sent forth their united and deadly showers.
"Deadly indeed--when the smoke blew aside, nearly half of the herd were
seen lying quiet or kicking on the plain.
"The rest remained as before! another ring of the long rifle, and
another fell--another double detonation of the heavy deer-gun, and
several came to the ground; and so continued the alternate fire of
bullets and shot, until the whole herd were strewn dead and dying upon
the ground!
"Our work was done--a great day's work for my companion, who would
realise nearly a hundred dollars for the produce of his day's sport.
"This, however, he assured me was a very unusual piece of good luck.
Often for days and even weeks, he would range the mountains without
killing a single head--either vicuna or guanaco, and only twice before
had he succeeded in thus making a _battue_ of a whole herd. Once he had
approached a flock of vicunas disguised in the skin of a guanaco, and
killed most of them before they thought of retreating.
"It was necessary for us to return to the hut for our horses in order to
carry home the game, and this required several journeys to be made. To
keep off the wolves and condors my companion made use of a very simple
expedient, which I believe is often used in the North--among your
prairie trappers here. Several bladders were taken from the vicunas and
inflated. They were then tied upon poles of maguey, and set upright
over the carcasses, so as to dangle and dance about in the wind.
Cunning as is the Andes wolf this `scare' is sufficient to keep him off,
as well as his ravenous associate, the condor.
"It was quite night when we reached the Indian hut with our last load.
Both of us were wearied and hungry, but a fresh vicuna cutlet, washed
down by the Catalan, and followed by a cigarette, made us forget our
fatigues. My host was more than satisfied with his day's work, and
promised me a guanaco hunt for the morrow."