Part 8

I asked the stalker to tell me the story, which I give in his own words: “About twelve years ago, when I was a gillie at X, I was out one day with the chief’s son late on in the season, about the end of the first week in October. About 2 o’clock in the afternoon we saw a Royal stag and some hinds above the black shed, between the lodge and the second stalker’s house, and after a successful stalk, he fired but wounded the stag, just grazing him in the lower part of the body. The stag did not give the rifle another chance, but turned his head fair south, towards the top of the C----. We watched him crossing the top, then we made for where we saw him crossing, and we saw him about 300 yards away as he was going down the opposite side, and he was still going south, then getting out of view, into a hollow. The stalker did not lose his chance, but made a sprint to get up to him, which he managed to do, but the wily fellow was always keeping his back to his enemy, and making fast for some private corner, where he hoped he would be safe. The trigger was not pulled for him. Being in plain ground there, and the Royal stag fast on the move, we could do nothing but wait and watch where he would cross the next ridge, which was fully a mile away. Once the stalker saw him cross, we made at once for the spot he went out of our view, getting there as soon as our legs could carry us, and after spying that part of the ground very carefully, we failed to pick him up. That was in the centre of the Glashan, a piece of ground about 1½ miles square, very level, with shallow peat bags, and guarded on three sides with slightly rising ridges. The distance between where the stag was wounded and where we lost him was about seven miles. By this time the light was failing, so we had to make tracks for home. One evening, a few days later, when it was beginning to get dark, the head stalker was out about the larder, and noticing a stag with some hinds above the lodge, and putting his glass on him, at once knew the stag he had the run after a few days before. I was just after getting home from the hill, and he ordered me to go and shoot him. The rifle I never fired before, and the sight although marked for 100 yards I afterwards found to be a 70 yards sight. I got to about 100 yards from the stag, but having the evening light, and being among juniper bushes, I had to shoot off my hand, and missed him. There was no other chance that evening, as the light was getting bad. Two or three days after, about 10 o’clock in the morning, I was going along to the E---- Bothy, about a mile from the lodge, when I saw about twenty hinds and a stag amongst them, and after putting the glass on him, I knew it was the same stag. I at once went back to tell the head stalker, but finding him not at home, I took the rifle. I got to about 120 yards of the stag, but shooting too low, I grazed his foreleg below the heart; he did not give me another chance then, but left the hinds and turned to the south across the top. When I got to the top I noticed him about half a mile from me; keeping him in view he went for about two miles south, then turning south-west I kept him in view for three miles, then lost sight of him, but I could understand by the movements of some hinds the line he was taking. I made for the place where I lost sight of him, but having got there I could see nothing. I followed up the burn that rises at Cairn-an-S----, and after getting half-way up the burn, I came out to the open to spy. I was spying for some time, and was putting my glass in its case when I noticed a black object about half a mile away, about the size of a blackcock. I used my glass, and who was this but the Royal lying in the centre of the Glashan, on quite level ground. He was lying down licking the scratch where I wounded him earlier in the day. With great difficulty and after a long crawl I got to about 70 yards of him, and shot him through the neck. That was a lucky range, as the rifle was sighted for 70 yards. I was in an awful mess through crawling in burns and gutters after him, but I was very keen on getting him, and as an old chap once said to me, ‘When you have a difficult thing to do you must not be minding your clothes.’ Well, I was pleased I got him as I was sure he could not live very long. I considered what to do; my first idea was to put him in some safe place, and come for him next day, so I took him to a burnside into a hollow and hid him, but before doing so I put a small chack with my knife above his brow antler, to know him if ever I saw him again, as I did not know who might be looking at me. I was in doubt whether I would take his head off or leave it there all night. I at once changed my mind, as it was so good a head I did not like leaving him out there all night. I cut his head off, giving him a long neck for being stuffed. That finished, I shouldered the Royal head, took him back five miles to the E---- Bothy, left him there that night, and took it two miles further to the lodge the next day, and to-day it hangs in the chief’s mansion. The young chief was very glad to get it. The head was a very good Royal, thick horns, points equal and well-shaped. The distance between the place where I shot him through the neck and the place we lost him the day the young chief wounded him is hardly half a mile apart. That day the stag was first wounded, he went whatever a distance of six or seven miles to that quiet spot in the centre of the Glashan. The day I shot him through the neck I followed him for about eight miles from the place where I grazed his foreleg below the heart. He never saw me, he never stopped, always making for that private spot, the place in the centre of the Glashan. So this stag went two times to that same place, as he hoped he would be safe there, and possibly that stag might have been lying in the same bed both nights.” This shows the distance a stag will go for safety, and that he goes back to his old home, the spot where he thinks he is safe. And so I believe that my friend the stalker must have been right in thinking that the stag he had found in April was the stag I had shot in the early days of the preceding October.

XI

THE METHOD BY WHICH EAGLES AND HAWKS SECURE THEIR PREY

As is well known, the eagle lives largely on carrion such as dead deer and carcases of sheep, differing in this respect from the peregrine falcon, which lives exclusively on what it kills. Generally speaking, the eagle secures its prey by pouncing on it on the ground and carrying it away in its talons. He swoops down at a great pace in a slanting direction, and in this way not only captures hares and rabbits, but also grouse and ptarmigan on the ground and young ducks on the loch. It is very interesting to watch the great bird searching slowly along the side of a hill, about 50, 100, or 150 yards above the ground; then he suddenly pounces, and in a moment is up again and away with his prey in his talons. So regularly does the eagle adopt this method of capturing his prey on the ground, that I have met stalkers who have told me that they do not believe that an eagle can overtake any swift-winged bird such as grouse or black game. This is certainly wrong, for the eagle does sometimes, though comparatively rarely, adopt the other method of securing his prey--the method which I have already described (see p. 64, _supra_)--that of pursuing and catching his prey in the air, and in this way without doubt captures blackcock, grouse, and ptarmigan. I have already stated (see pp. 57-70, _supra_) that in my opinion the eagle in his downward flight is faster than the peregrine. Even in his horizontal flight, once he gets going he can fly very fast if he chooses, but of course is not nearly so agile and cannot turn and twist with the rapidity of the peregrine, and the result is that when he overtakes his quarry he frequently misses him.

Nearly a hundred years ago one of the most acute observers amongst ornithologists wrote as follows: “In another part of the Western Highlands of Scotland we had an opportunity of witnessing the powers of flight of this bird in pursuit of its quarry. An old blackcock was sprung and was instantly pursued by the eagle (who must have been on a neighbouring rock unperceived) across the glen, the breadth of which was at least 2 miles.

“The eagle made several unsuccessful pounces, but as there was no cover and the bird large, it probably fell a victim in the end.”[28]

Lastly, as I have already said in the pages just mentioned where I have fully discussed the matter, the eagle on rare occasions swoops down at a terrific pace on his prey in the air, striking it to the ground but not clutching it or, to use the falconer’s phrase, binding on it.

The eagle has a great partiality for hares, cats, young fox cubs, and young lambs. I remember James Macintosh, head stalker at Loch Rosque, telling me that on two occasions whilst waiting at a fox den he had shot an eagle. He added that, whilst the old foxes are away, the cubs, when they get hungry, sometimes make such a noise that they can be heard at a considerable distance, and that he believed this attracts the eagles, particularly if their eyrie in which they are rearing their young happens to be in the vicinity. He went on to say that he thought this accounted for his sometimes finding fox dens containing only one or two cubs instead of the usual number of three to seven. There is no doubt that eagles sometimes attack deer calves, fixing their talons in their victim’s neck or back and striking the calf with their wings. They frequently hunt in pairs, and have been seen to drive the calf over a precipice.

On rare occasions eagles have been known to attack a full-grown stag. In certain parts of the Highlands they have lately increased in numbers, and perhaps as a consequence, their ordinary food not being so plentiful, have become bolder.

Only last year I was stalking in a forest where a few days earlier a stalker had witnessed a most unusual incident. The following is his account of what he saw:

“A gentleman and I were out stalking on the 25th of September, and while the gentleman was having lunch, I went off about 200 yards to have a spy. I got a stag lying at the foot of a rock. While I had the glass on him, an eagle suddenly swooped down and attacked him. The stag went headlong into a bog, but managed to get up. I then ran back for the gentleman thinking we would have a shot, but by the time we got back the stag and eagle were over the sky-line and the eagle still following while going over the sky-line, but after that we don’t know what happened, as both eagle and stag went out of sight.”

Donald Matheson, who has had a lifelong experience in the forest and has only recently retired after having been for many years stalker at Glen Shieldaig to Mr. C. J. Murray of Loch Carron, told me that on one occasion, but on one occasion only, he saw an eagle attack an adult stag.

“It would be, as far as I remember,” he said, “between the 6th and 10th of October in the year 1888 when I was spying one morning at the forest stables. I picked up a stag on the top of Glen Shieldaig, quietly feeding on the Glaschnoc side, and while having my glass still on the stag an eagle swooped down on his head. The stag fell on his hind-quarters, but was soon on his feet again and ran for his life while the eagle was fixed on him. The stag made for a thick clump of birch-trees, and immediately the stag got under cover the eagle could not keep its hold, owing to the thick branches of the trees, and left the stag. The eagle kept hovering for some time above the wood where the stag was concealed, but at last flew away.”

Whilst stalking in the neighbouring forest of Applecross two years ago, Colonel the Hon. Claude Willoughby had a most interesting experience, a description of which he has kindly given me permission to reproduce here:

“On 30th September, 1921,” he writes, “I was stalking with Alick Mackenzie on Applecross. We had come through Corrie Chaorachan into Corrie Na Na and spied a stag with hinds on the west face above the loch. The wind was west, and after a difficult and exceedingly good stalk across the Corrie and above these deer, avoiding hinds, also another stag with hinds, we arrived at a point within 150 yards of the stag we were after and found him lying down. Owing to the light and the distance, I determined to wait for him to rise before shooting. After waiting half an hour, hinds which we had seen beyond the place where he was lying came galloping past him. He rose and I shot him; he fell dead. We at once saw that the reason of these hinds galloping was that an eagle was after a calf which had separated from the herd. We saw the eagle land on the calf’s back twice, but the calf escaped.

“The eagle then attacked a hind in the herd. A kestrel hawk now joined in, and mobbed the eagle. This attack lasted only a short time. The eagle then circled round my dead stag, the kestrel soon after disappearing. The eagle settled on a rock about five yards from the dead stag, and remained there until we showed ourselves. All this took place within 200 yards of us.

“On the Tuesday following Lord Derwent was also stalking on Applecross, near Corrie Attadale. He and the head stalker Finlayson saw an eagle attack a calf, which it knocked down twice, but the calf escaped.”

There has been much difference of opinion, and from time to time considerable controversy as to how the peregrine kills its prey. Some stalkers and ornithologists believe that it is done with the edge of the wing, a smaller number with the beak, whilst others think it is done with the talons. The last-mentioned view is that which is, I believe, universally held by falconers, who after all have many more opportunities of seeing how it is done than any other class of men. I have frequently discussed this question with naturalists and stalkers, keepers and others interested in this subject, and have listened to all they could tell me. I have also had the great advantage of hearing at first hand from falconers of experience their views and their reasons for them. Further, I have myself been so fortunate as to see the wild peregrine pursue and stoop at its quarry. I have seen it strike and kill it and on occasion miss it. In addition to this, I have read everything I could find on this subject, both in the older and more modern books of authority. I am satisfied myself that the view held by the falconers is the true one, and I cannot state their conclusions better than, or indeed so well as, by quoting from three letters that I have received. The writers of these three letters have kindly given me permission to quote their Views.

Major C. E. Radclyffe, who has had almost unrivalled experience as a falconer, writes as follows:

“All forms of falcons and short-winged hawks, such as sparrow-hawks and goshawks, always strike their quarry with _their feet_, and never with anything else. The killers are those which ‘bind to’ their quarry in the air, that is, pick up a bird in their feet, and never let go of it until they come to the ground. A really experienced old trained falcon does this nine times out of ten.

“Sometimes, however, when stooping from a great height, the impetus of the falcon is so terrific that she seems to know if she ‘binds to’ her quarry, the impact will be so great as nearly to tear her legs from her body. Thus, when stooping at a heavy bird like a grouse, or a pheasant, at great speed, the falcon slightly throws upwards on her impact with the quarry, and delivers a raking blow with her single long back talon. By this means (her back talon being sharp as a razor) I have seen a grouse ripped open from its tail to its neck. I have seen its wing broken and I have seen its head cut off.

* * * * *

“All falcons are very careful not to risk touching anything with their wings, hence a falcon will never really stoop at a bird on the ground with an idea of catching it, but they will keep stooping just over a bird they can see on the ground in the hope of flushing it, and then they will catch it in a minute.

“I have seen falcons and hawks break their wings by striking the smallest twig on the branch of a tree when misjudging a stoop at a bird.

“Therefore, you can imagine how easily a hawk would smash its wing if it attempted this, to hit a heavy bird like a grouse or pheasant going at terrific speed.

* * * * *

“If you threw a lawn-tennis ball against a falcon’s wing coming at you at the rate of over a hundred miles per hour, and hit its wing-bone, that hawk would never fly again.

“I have many times in my life, when casting lightly with a very small trout rod, just touched the wing of a swift or swallow with the tip of the rod. I never broke a rod thus, but nearly always broke the bird’s wing. I think, when you come to consider these things, you will see that a hawk dare not strike the smallest bird with its wing.

“It uses its beak only to finish off a bird on the ground, and this she does by breaking the bird’s neck with its beak.

“I have lived amongst wild and trained hawks all my life, and I can assure you the above facts are true.”

The reference in the above letter to the peregrine killing a grouse by striking it with its talon reminds me of the following interesting note in _Birds of Great Britain_ (5 volumes), published by the author, John Gould, F.R.S., in 1873.

“Evidence forwarded to Mr. James Burdett, keeper to the Earl of Craven.... On dissecting a coot I saw taken and dropped by a peregrine falcon, I found the neck dislocated at the third joint from the head and an appearance as if the sharp point of the hind claw had penetrated the brain at the occiput.”

Captain C. F. A. Portal, D.S.O., writes as follows:

“I have seen many dozens of game-birds struck down by trained peregrines within 50 yards of me, and I can definitely state that the hawk _invariably_ aims a blow _with the talons_ at his quarry....

“So true is a peregrine’s aim that he generally gets home with both his _hind_ talons somewhere near the middle of the quarry’s back, but often he hits a wing and breaks it, and occasionally he breaks the neck in the same way. I have examined hundreds of birds (partridges) killed by hawks, and I have always found the mark of two hind talons or one of them. The decapitation is generally performed within a few seconds of the hawk’s alighting on the dazed or crippled victim. It is performed by one powerful wrench of the beak. No peregrine will eat or even pluck a living bird.... In my experience it is a rare thing for a peregrine to strike a bird dead in the air. It does occasionally happen that the blow falls on the head or neck, but what generally happens is that the bird is thrown violently to the ground with a wing broken or the back dislocated. The concussion with the ground dazes it, and the hawk quickly drops down upon it and kills it with its beak.

“The merlin often kills comparatively large birds (_e.g._ the thrush, fieldfare, golden plover, etc.) by strangling them, as its beak is not strong enough to break their necks. It kills larks, etc., in the same way as the peregrine kills his quarry, that is, by sudden dislocation of the neck.

“The sparrow-hawk kills its prey by gripping it with its feet and driving the claws into its body; this is a slow death sometimes, and the sparrow-hawk has none of the true falcon’s scruples about plucking (and even, I fear, beginning to devour) a living bird.

“I do not like the sparrow-hawk for this reason, though, of course, the falconer can generally prevent cruelty by killing the quarry himself.”

Captain G. S. Blaine, another falconer of great experience, also has no doubt on the matter. In a letter to me on this question he writes:

“A peregrine strikes with its talons only. Of this I am certain, having seen the blow given to countless quarries at close quarters. How the other idea (that of striking with the wing) could possibly have originated I do not know. It is quite obviously impracticable.... If a peregrine administered the terrific blow which she delivers when striking a quarry with her wing, breast, or beak, she would be knocked out at once, and permanently injured. A peregrine can easily, after recovering from her stoop, turn over again and catch the quarry in the air. I have seen this often done, when the bird had been struck high up in the air. If near the ground, it would fall before the hawk could get hold of it. Many also often catch and hold a quarry without knocking it down. This is the way most successful game hawks catch grouse or partridges. When struck, the blow is delivered on any part of the body--it may be the head and it may be the back or the wing which may be broken.”

In _Reminiscences of a Falconer_ (John Nimmo, London, 1901) Major C. H. Fisher writes:

“The blow is given by the falcon’s strong and sharp hind talon of each foot--usually sharp as a needle and driven at great speed by a bird weighing over 2 lb.”

As illustrating the falcon’s stoop Major Fisher describes how he saw a wild falcon strike a greyhen twice. He says (p. 97):

“As illustrating the force of a falcon’s stoop, I may mention an incident which occurred to me on the banks of the river Orrin when fishing. From some bracken I put up three greyhens. Down came a wild falcon from the sky at the middle bird. I saw and heard the blow. The greyhen staggered on, leaving the usual tribute of feathers behind her. Up rose the falcon in the grand and stately style so few trained hawks can ever adopt or regain (so much do they lose by captivity); over and down she came, and down fell the quarry, as dead as though shot by a bullet.... Down too went my long rod and off went I.... On this occasion I took possession ... of the wild hawk’s prey. On examining the effect of her two blows, I found that three ribs on one side were clean cut through and separated from the backbone as by a chop with a heavy knife and strong hand, and one talon had entered and split the base of the skull, from which the brains were protruding.”

One of the foremost advocates of the contention that the fatal blow is inflicted by a stroke of the wing is Mr. Tom Speedy, who deals with this subject in his _Natural History of Sport in Scotland with Rod and Gun_ (pp. 102, 103). He bases his argument first on the supposition that when the fatal blow is struck on the back of the quarry, the skin is only bruised and not torn. He writes:

“A keeper friend of mine near Kingussie witnessed a grouse struck down by a peregrine, and as there was not a mark on it he sent it to me. Carefully plucking it, I noted that with the exception of a bruise along the spine there was no other mark on it; yet the blow had been sufficient to cause instant death. This comports with my own observations, and it is difficult to understand how this blow could be struck by these terrible talons without the skin being torn. As the heads of grouse are frequently cut off when struck by a peregrine, it is the opinion of foresters who have watched them with their glasses that it is done by the wing. Falconers deny this and maintain that it is done by the hind talon. How, then, it may be asked, can this be done when there is not a scratch on the victim, but only a bruise indicating where the blow was struck?”

The answer to this argument is that there is absolutely reliable evidence to the contrary--in other words, that sometimes the skin is torn.