Part 19

Having arrived at this point, the bird may be taken out to hunt. The owner mounts his horse and takes her with him, hooded, and perched upon his head or his shoulders. As soon as he sees a hare, he unhoods her and excites her with his voice. The falcon soars into the air, and swoops down suddenly with a sharp cry, and kills the animal with a single blow; after which the hood is immediately put on again. Sometimes the hare is killed so far off that the hunter cannot bleed it in time, according to the religious injunction; but this inconvenience is obviated by his exclaiming, when he throws off the bird, _Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar_—"in the name of Allah! Allah is great!" If the falcon has devoured a part of the game, the rest may be eaten by the hunter, because the bird of prey has been trained to return to her master when he calls her, and not to eat the game. A bird of race will no more eat carrion than will an eagle. She will kill hares, rabbits, the young of the gazelle, the _habara_—a bird, they say, as big as a bustard—pigeons, and turtle-doves.

The principal tribes of the Sahara that practice hawking are: in the province of Constantine, the Douaouda, the Selmya, the Oulad-Moulat, the Oulad-ben-Aly, the Sahari, the Oulad-Mahdi, the Oulad-Bou-Azid, the Rahman, and the Oulad-Zid; in the province of Algiers, the Bou-Aysh, the Oulad-Mokhtar, the Oulad-Yagoub, the Oulad-Shayb, the Oulad-Ayad, the Mouidat, the Zenakha, the Abadlya, the Oulad-Naïl; and in the province of Oran, the Hassasna, the Rezayna, the Oulad-Mehalla, the Beni-Mathar, the Derraga, the Harar, the Angades, the Hamyân, the Oulad-Sidi-Shikh, and the Oulad-Khelif; and the inhabitants of all the regions where _alfa_ grows in abundance. Hawking is also pursued in the higher table-lands, on the borders of the Sahara.

REMARKS BY THE EMIR ABD-EL-KADER.

The Arabs recognize four species of birds of noble race, which they employ in the chace. These are the _berana_, the _terakel_, the _nebala_, and the _bahara_. The _berana_ and the _terakel_ are the most esteemed; especially the _terakel_, which is the largest—the female sometimes attaining the size of an ordinary eagle. This species has black wings, gray on the under side. The belly is black and white, the tail black, as is also the head when young, but gradually turning gray and then white as the bird grows older. Its beak is very hard and sharp, and its talons solid and vigorous. The _berana_ is less strong and somewhat smaller than the _terakel_. Its wings are of a whitish gray, its breast white, its tail gray and white, the latter predominating. The head is of many hues, but there also white is the dominant colour. The _bahara_ is almost entirely black, with the exception of a few whitish spots on the breast. "It is a negro, and not worth much." In the _nebala_, gray predominates; there are some white spots, however, on the wings, and the feet are yellow. All these birds mew at the end of summer.

In certain districts, the following species are likewise valued; the _shashin_, the _aogab_, the _meguernes_, and the _baz_. The _baz_ is the most courageous. Its plumage is of a dark red, its eyes deep set, with arched eyelids, its shoulders wide apart, its feathers soft, its breast broad, its rump thick, its tail short, its thighs wide apart, its legs white, and its feet broad. The heavier it feels on the hand, the swifter it is on the wing. It is said that its wind is bad.

The bird of noble race is given away rather than sold; whoever catches one takes it to the master of a large tent, who makes him a present in return. It is in the summer-time that they endeavour to procure these noble birds, in order to have time to train them for the hawking season, which is towards the end of autumn. They go to work in the following manner.

They envelope a pigeon in a sort of shirt made of horse-hair and a quantity of wool. A horseman rides about a desert place carrying this lure with him, and when he sees a bird of race, throws it up into the air and then hides himself. The falcon stoops and strikes it, but her legs and talons become entangled in the wool and hair, and her struggles only make her position worse. At last, stupefied and exhausted, she finishes by alighting, or rather by falling on the ground, when the horseman issues from his hiding place and secures her. A perch is prepared for her in the chief's own tent, to which the bird is fastened by an elegant thong of _filali_.[87] It is needless to add that the greatest care is taken to attach the jesses, so as not to hurt the bird, or cause her unnecessary inconvenience. The master of the tent feeds her with his own hands once a day, about two in the afternoon. Her ordinary food is raw mutton, very clean, and carefully cut up. She is not stinted as to quantity, may eat to satiety, and is even expected to improve in condition.

By way of commencing her education, they proceed in this manner. They show her a large piece of flesh, and at the same time call to her three times, with a cry that may be represented by the sound long drawn out of "Ouye! ouye! ouye!" The bird throws herself upon the meat, which is not given up to her, but which she fights hard to get hold of. They draw it away slowly, still showing it to her and teasing her, until she is quite exhausted, when they give her several small morsels on her perch. Up to that time, the falcon is kept scrupulously within the tent, remaining hood-winked all day, and also during the first few nights, until she is accustomed to live with the women and children, the dogs and other animals. This last point is difficult to manage, and is never completely achieved.

When the "gentle" bird has got thus far, when she is used to accept her food upon the perch, in the manner above described, the circle of her prison is extended. She is fastened by the foot to a cord, or creance, of camel's hair, soft and pliable, from fifty to sixty cubits in length, which allows her to go abroad. Outside of the tent, they repeat the lesson of calls to come and be fed, cautiously feeling their way. The falcon is in this manner tended a long time within the tent, going out only to receive her food. When her master is quite sure of having accustomed her to himself, he takes her with him on his fist to a considerable distance, putting on and off her hood several times, at different intervals. It is not without difficulty, without many struggles, that the bird accommodates herself to the scene abroad, but by degrees she becomes used to that also.

At this period, the last touch is given to her education, by means of the same calls, the same alternations of teasing and gratifying; but far from the tent and the _douar_, without hood and without leash, her food is given to her. As soon as she is gorged, the hood and leash are replaced. After that, her master never moves a step without her perched upon his fist. But this is not enough. The bird is only tamed—she has yet to be trained for the sport. Accordingly, they take a hare and cut its throat, disclosing the gash by drawing back the skin, so as to let the flesh appear. Then, inside the tent, they take off the hood of the falcon, who springs at the throat of the animal, and is allowed to worry it for a time in order to get a taste for it; and a little later they give her some of the flesh. This manœuvre is repeated seven or eight days following, with a live hare, whose ears the master keeps pulling to make it squeal, while he himself utters the call "Ouye! Ouye!" The falcon precipitates herself on the head of the animal and fights for it, pecking out the eyes, and sometimes the tongue. The hare is then opened, and some of the flesh given to the bird. This exercise is repeated more or less frequently, according to the bird's aptitude for learning.

The hawking season is now at hand. The bird must be put to the proof, to ascertain if she has profited by these lessons so skilfully graduated, by this education so laboriously inculcated, and so appropriate to her nature and to the style of sport for which she is intended. They go out, therefore, on horseback, taking the "gentle" bird hood-winked, and proceed to an open plain, or a vast plateau, having first provided themselves with five or six live hares. Having reached the appointed spot they take a hare and, having broken its four feet, let it go within the scope of the bird's ken. Squeaking and moaning it hobbles on as well as it can, when they unhood the falcon, and throw her off—exclaiming _Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar!_ The _terakel_, impatient, soars straight up toward the sky, and from a great height swoops down upon the hare, which she kills, or stuns, with a single blow with her tightly closed talons, as with a fist. The hunters come up, bleed and open the animal, and give the entrails, the liver, and the heart to the bird, who devours them on the spot. After repeating this lesson several days in succession, the training of the bird is considered complete.

This course of instruction has extended from summer to near the end of autumn, which is the favourable season, for the falcon only hunts well in cloudy and cold weather. She cannot endure the glare of the sun, nor yet thirst or heat. She would leave her master to go in search of water, which she sees from afar, and would never return. At that period, then, a party sets out after a light breakfast, at about eleven in the morning, with the falcon on the shoulder or on the fist. The only provisions they take with them are camel's milk, dates, bread, and dried grapes.

But the sport does not begin until after a tolerably long ride, towards three in the afternoon. The cavalcade is usually a numerous one. Having reached a suitable spot, they scatter about, beating the brushwood and tufts of _alfa_ in the hope of starting a hare, which they drive towards the man who holds the falcon. As soon as the quarry is sighted, the latter unhoods the bird, and throws her off; pointing with his finger to the hare, and exclaiming _Ha hou!_ "there it is!" While her master is pronouncing the sacramental _Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar!_ the bird is off, soars out of sight, keeping the hare in view all the time with her piercing eye, and then precipitates herself upon it, and strikes it, either on the head or on the shoulder, one blow with her closed talons, violent enough to stun, if not to kill it. The horsemen, seeing the falcon stoop, gallop up from all quarters, surround her, and generally find her engaged in picking out the eyes of the hare. To make her let go, some one draws out from below his burnous the skin of another hare, and throws it down a little way off, when she immediately pounces upon it. Her _curée_, or reward, is not given to her until after their return to the _douar_.

It will be readily understood that, though the bird was fed abundantly, and even to excess, during the time she was being tamed, and taught to obey the call, she is kept somewhat sparingly during the hawking season, to avoid making her dull and depriving her of her full power, and in order to make her a good hunter, that is, ardent and alert.

It is no uncommon thing with two or three falcons to kill from ten to fifteen hares in a day. A large bird called the _habara_[88] is also hunted with the _thair el horr_, and in this wise. The hunters ride on until they meet with _habaras_, who generally go in couples, or in companies of half a dozen and more. The falcon is on the fist. Her hood is removed, and the birds are pointed out to her. When thoroughly roused, she is thrown off with the invocation, _Bi es-sem Allah_! She soars aloft, stoops upon her quarry, strikes it on the head, and holds it in the pitiless grasp of her talons in spite of the desperate struggles of the victim, until the horsemen come up and snatch it from her. One of them then bleeds it to death, and gives the falcon her reward. The flesh of this bird intoxicates the falcon, according to the Arabs, either because of the perfumed vapour emanating from it, or because she is proud of the capture of a _habara_, a dainty fit to set before a Sultan. Thus, when she is replaced on the shoulder, she struts and balances herself, and executes her fantasia. If the _habara_ attempts to fly, the falcon soars, and both mount together, the latter rising higher and higher till she is well above the other, when she precipitates herself upon it like a thunder-bolt, and breaks, first a wing, and then the sternum. They fall together, tumbling over and over, but the falcon always managing to keep uppermost and to hold her victim beneath her, so that it alone may feel the shock of this frightful fall.

The "gentle" bird hunts, also, the _seroun_, the _hamma_, and the _agad_. Some falcons will not hunt the _habara_. They are never trained to hunt partridges, as it is feared that, if they became accustomed to it, they would prefer a feathered quarry to one with a skin. If a bird delays to return to her master, a horseman, holding in his hand the skin of a hare furnished with ears and feet, gallops up towards her and throws this lure to her, at the same time hooping "Ouye!": she generally answers to the call. This interjection, if I may so express myself, is the vocative of the bird of race. The falcon, when properly trained, seldom betrays, that is, escapes from her master. They are sometimes lost, however, by their passion for a desert bird called _hamma_, which they pursue with fury.

The _biaz_—such is the name of the falconer, the individual whose special duty it is to tend and feed the falcon—sometimes entertains a blind and fatal attachment for his pupil. He will pet and pamper her to excess; and although it is proverbially said that "vanity is her only counsellor and sole motive of her actions," yet, if she be not hungry, instead of hunting, she resumes her liberty. A bird, however, must be exceedingly well trained and even renowned, to be kept for more than one year. As a rule, unless she has displayed an exceptional prowess, she is turned loose at the end of the season, as another is sure to be obtained before the time comes round again. Birds that have been kept for three years are quoted as something quite out of the common run.

When the _djouad_, or nobles, go out hawking, it is in parties of five-and-twenty to thirty, without reckoning their attendants, and wagers are often laid. For a trained falcon, a camel is given, or a hundred _boudjous_, and at times even a horse. The falcon is regarded as a member of the family. She lives in the tent, and is the object of the most constant attention. Some chiefs are never to be seen without their falcon, which they carry about with them everywhere. It is a sign of distinction and of gentle birth to have marks of a falcon's muting on one's burnous. In the Sahara, little or great, rich or poor, all alike love and caress the "gentle" bird.

"And how should it be otherwise?" said to me one day a noble Arab; "we love pomp, splendour, and magnificence, and one must be more or less than an Arab not to feel joy and excitement at the sight of our warriors returning from hawking. The chief rides on in front, followed by many horsemen, and carrying two falcons, one on his shoulder, the other on his fist, guarded by a leather gauntlet. The hoods of these birds are enriched with silk, morocco leather, gold, and small ostrich plumes, while their jesses are embroidered and ornamented with silver bells. The steeds neigh, the camels are loaded with game, and their drivers murmur, in a melancholy tone, one of those chaunts of love, or war, which never fail to find the way to our hearts. Yes; I swear by the head of the Prophet, next to a goum taking the field, there is nothing so striking as the departure or return of a hawking party. Thus, however weary, exhausted, and out of breath one may be, sleep is less refreshing than the hope and expectation of recommencing on the morrow."

THE CHACE

BY ABD-EL-KADER.

It is related that an Arab Sheikh was seated in the centre of a numerous group, when a man who had lost his ass presented himself before him, and asked if any one had seen the animal that had gone astray. The Sheikh immediately turned to those around him, and addressed them in these words:—"Is there any one here to whom the pleasures of the chace are unknown? Who has never pursued the game at the risk of life and limb, if he fell from his horse? Who, without fear of tearing his clothes or his skin, has not thrown himself into the midst of brushwood bristling with thorns, in order to overtake the wolf? Is there any one here who has never experienced the happiness of again meeting, the despair of leaving a woman who was dearly loved?"

One of his hearers answered: "For my part, I have never done, or experienced any of those things you mention."

Looking to the owner of the ass, the sheikh thus spoke: "Behold the beast you were looking for! Lead him away."

The Arabs, indeed, have a saying that "he who has never hunted, nor loved, nor felt emotion at the sound of music, nor prized the perfume of flowers, is not a man, but an ass." With us, war is especially a contest of agility and craft. Consequently the chace is the highest of all pastimes, as the pursuit of savage animals teaches how to pursue men. A poet has written the following eulogy of that art:

"The chace disengages the mind from the cares by which it is harassed. It adds to the vigour of the intelligence, brings joyfulness, dissipates chagrin, and renders useless the science of the physicians by maintaining perpetual health in the human body.

"It forms good horsemen, for it teaches them to spring quickly into their saddles, to alight promptly on the ground, to rush a horse across rocks and precipices, to clear stones and bushes at full gallop, to push on without stopping, even though some part of the harness has been lost or broken.

"Every one who gives himself up to the chace, makes progress day by day in courage, and learns to despise accidents.

"To fully enjoy his favourite diversion, he withdraws from perverse people. He puts falsehood and calumny to the rout, escapes from the corruption of vice, and emancipates himself from those fatal influences which tinge our beards with gray, and burden us, before our time, with the weight of years.

"Days spent in the chace are not counted among the days of one's life."

In the Sahara, the chace is the sole occupation of the chiefs and rich people. When the rainy season sets in, the inhabitants of that region transport themselves to the shores of the small lakes formed by the rain; and, if game get scarce at one spot, they open up a new scene in their wandering life. A legend familiar to every Arab shows with what force the passion for the chace may seize upon the heart of an African.

A man of distinction fired at a gazelle and missed it. In a hasty moment, he took an oath that no food should come near his mouth until he had eaten the animal's liver. Twice again, he fired at the gazelle, and with no better success, but not the less did he continue the pursuit for the whole of that day. At nightfall his strength gave way; but true to his oath, he refused to take any nourishment. His servants, therefore, resumed the chace, which lasted for three days more. At last the gazelle was killed, and its liver brought to the dying Arab, who touched it with its lips and yielded up his last breath.

The Arabs hunt both on foot, and on horseback. A horseman who would chace the hare must take with him a greyhound, which is called _slougui_, from Slouguïa, a spot where they were originally produced from the coupling of she-wolves with dogs. The male _slougui_ lives twenty years, the female twelve. Greyhounds that are able to run a gazelle down are rare. Few of them will give chace either to the hare or to the gazelle, even if those animals pass close to them. Their customary object of pursuit is the _bekeur-el-ouhash_, which they generally catch by the ham and pull to the ground. It is said that this animal, in trying to recover itself, falls forward on its head and is killed. Sometimes, the _slougui_ seizes the _bekeur-el-ouhash_ by the throat, and holds it until the hunter comes up. Many Arabs hunt this beast on horseback, and strike it from behind with a spear. It is also on horseback that they generally hunt the gazelle, which goes in herds. They select from among its companions the animal they intend to bring down, and shoot it without for a moment pulling up their horse, on which they started at full speed. There is an Arab proverb: "More forgetful than a gazelle." This pretty creature, in fact, appears to have the giddy brains as well as the soft, mysterious glance of woman. The gazelle, if missed, runs a little way further on, and again stops, without heeding the ball which, in another minute, will again seek its life. Some Arabs hunt this animal with the falcon, which is trained to strike at the eyes.

It is especially among the Arabs of the Eshoul country that this variety of sport chiefly prevails. I have there met with a small tribe, called the Es-Lib, who lived entirely on the products of the chace. Their tents were made of the skins of gazelles and of _bekeur-el-ouhash_; and their clothing, for the most part, was nothing but the skins of wolves. A member of this little tribe of hunters told me that when he went out to hunt he generally took with him an ass laden with salt. Each time he knocked over a gazelle, he cut its throat, opened the belly, and rubbed the entrails with salt, and then left it to dry on a bush. After a while he retraced his steps, and carried to his family all the animals that he had thus prepared, for in that district there are no beasts of prey to dispute with a hunter for his game. The Es-Lib are so accustomed to feed upon flesh, that the children threw away the biscuits I gave to them, never supposing that they were good to eat.

The hunt in ambush is often practised against both the male and female of the _bekeur-el-ouhash_. When the great heats have dried up the ponds in the desert, a hole is dug close to the springs whither they resort to drink, and they meet with their death while in the act of quenching their thirst. The chace that demands the greatest intrepidity is that of the _lerouy_, an animal resembling the gazelle, but larger, though without attaining the size of the _bekeur-el-ouhash_. The _lerouy_, which is likewise called the _tis-el-djebel_, or mountain goat, frequents rocks and precipices, among which it must be pursued on foot, amid a thousand perils. As these animals have very little speed, any ordinary dog can catch them easily if they descend into the plains. But they have a singular peculiarity, as I am assured. A _lerouy_ closely pressed by hunters throws itself down a precipice a hundred cubits deep, and falls on its head without receiving any hurt. The age of the animal is known by the knobs on its horns—each knob indicating a year. Both the _lerouy_ and the gazelle have two incisor teeth, but they have not those situated between the incisors and the canine teeth.