CHAPTER XXXVII

A SPANISH SYSTEM OF FOWLING

THE "CABRESTO" OR STALKING-HORSE

Spain is a land of flocks and herds, of breeders and graziers. At the head of the scale stands the fighting-bull, monarch of the richest _vegas_; at the opposite extreme come the shaggy little ponies and brood-mares that eke out a feral and precarious subsistence in the wildest regions. Throughout the marismas hardy beasts with wild-bred progeny on which no human hand has ever laid, abound, grazing knee-deep in watery wildernesses where tasteless reed or wiry spear-grass afford a bare subsistence.

There they live, splashing in the shadows, heads half-immersed as they pull up subaquatic herbage; on the back of one rides perched a snow-white egret, on another a couple of magpies, preying on ticks or warbles, while all around swim wildfowl that scarce deign to move aside.

No fowler could view such a scene without perceiving that approach to the wildfowl might be effected under cover of these unsuspected ponies. The earliest aucipial mind probably realised the advantage offered, and the system has been practised in Spain from time immemorial.

The method is simple. The ponies (termed, when trained, _cabrestos_, or "decoys") seem by intuition to realise what is required. By a cord attached to the headstall, the fowler, crouching behind the shoulder, directs his pony's course towards the unconscious fowl. At intervals, still further to disarm suspicion, feigned halts are made as though to simulate grazing. Before closing in, the nose-cord is made fast to the near fore-knee, thus holding the pony's head well down. Presently the ducks are within half gunshot, and we amateurs (whose doubled backs ache excruciatingly from a constrained position maintained for half an hour) pray each moment for relief and the signal to fire. No! Our fowler-friends shoot for a livelihood, and continue, with marvellous skill and patience, so to manoeuvre their beasts that the utmost possible target shall finally be presented to the broadside. There is no hurry--nor time nor aching vertebræ with them count one centimo. (See photo at p. 90.)

Should it be necessary to change course, that operation is effected by wheeling the pony stern-on to the fowl, the fowler meanwhile crouching low under his muzzle: critical moments ensue during which the expert has no cover but the pony's breadth--instead of his length--to shield him from detection by hundreds of the keenest eyes on earth. But it is remarkable how little notice is taken of what is necessarily in full view provided that the exposed objects are _beneath_ the covering animal. Once let a human head or a gun-barrel appear _above_ its outline and the spell is broken. But otherwise--say during those interludes of feigned "grazing"--the suffering fowlers can straighten their backs by squatting down (in the water!) and thus enjoy at closest quarters a spectacle of wild creatures that is impossible to attain by any other means yet discovered. Though the fowlers are now fully visible, framed, as it were, beneath the _cabresto's_ belly and between his legs, no notice will be taken or any alarm created so long as the pony's skylines remain unadorned with human appendages. There, within a score of yards, you sit face to face with ducks by the hundred, feeding, splashing, preening--all utterly unconcerned! Those of our readers who are most familiar with wildfowl will best realise how incredible such a statement must read. Ordinarily, the slightest visible movement--the mere glint of a gun-barrel though half masked by cover--suffices to shift every duck at one hundred yards and more. Here they ignore objects practically exposed and close at hand. Apparently the habitual companionship day by day of water-bred ponies has annihilated in their minds all sense of danger arising from such a quarter.

The Spanish professionals (using large but antiquated muzzle-loaders) work singly, each man behind his own pony; or should two or more join forces for a broadside, there still remains but one man behind each animal. These men are reputed to have made extraordinary shots; and having viewed their infinite patience, we can well believe such records. To place two guns behind one _cabresto_-pony, that is, an amateur as well as the professional, is a distinct handicap. We have done it ourselves, and accepted the handicap merely to see the system in operation; yet by using more powerful weapons have probably killed as many fowl at one shot as even the fabled totals of our friends.

Obviously no comparison can be, or is, suggested as between two totally different performances. It has been solely for the purpose of learning the system, and also of enjoying unequalled views of wildfowl close at hand, that we have occasionally put in a day with the _cabresto_-ponies, and here annex a few records of shots made by this means, taken at random from our diaries.

_January 1, 1898._--Fired three broadsides with two guns, a double 8-and a single 4-bore; in the second case the fowl had just been badly scared by a kite. Results:--

(1) 59 wigeon, 3 teal 62 (2) 30 " 3 " 33 (3) 60 " 1 " 4 pintail, 4 shoveler 69 ___ Total 164

_January 31, 1905._--In three shots at wigeon, the first being half spoilt by a big black-backed gull, the authors (two guns) gathered:--

27 + 51 + 48 = 126 wigeon.

_December 29, 1893._--Santolalla (2 guns), 78 teal, besides some coots, at a single shot.

_January 1894._--Laguna Dulce; three _cabrestos_ with Spanish fowlers, and two amateurs with big breech-loaders (a broadside of 5 barrels):--

198 teal (including about a dozen wigeon).

A shot made in January 1894 seems worth recording merely in respect of the numbers killed by only some _seven ounces_ of lead. An islet actually _carpeted_ with teal was our target, and two 12-bores, aided by an ancient Spanish muzzle-loader (about 10-bore), realised fifty head, to wit, forty-nine teal and one mallard-drake.

Geese will rarely admit of approach to the close quarters necessary for effective work; yet just on those rare exceptional occasions we have secured (using heavy shoulder-guns) from six to a dozen greylags in a day, once or twice more than this--five at a shot being the maximum.

THE STANCHION-GUN IN SPAIN

In contrast with the success of the _cabresto_ system, the stancheon-gun proved a failure. So admirably adapted for punt-gunning appeared those great shallow marismas, that in 1888 we sent out the entire outfit and artillery for wildfowling afloat--a 22-foot double-handed gunning-punt and an 80-lb. gun to throw 16 oz. of shot.

The little craft reached the Guadalquivir in September, but unforeseen difficulties arose. The Spanish custom-house took alarm. True, the smart little gun-boat was an entire novelty--even in the Millwall docks she had created surprise; here she was incomprehensible. No such vessel had ever floated on Spanish waters, and the official mind needed time to consider. That oracle, after weeks of cogitation, ordered the removal of the suspicious craft from the obscure port of Bonanza to the fuller light that plays on the custom-house at Seville. There, after more weeks of delay, it was decided that the white-painted six-foot barrel was "an arm of war," that "the combination of boat and gun savoured of the mechanism of war," and, finally, that "the boat could not be permitted to pass the customs until it had been registered at the Admiralty." Thus our _Boadicea_ joined the Imperial Navy of Spain.

Seven months elapsed whilst these difficulties were in process of solution, and ere they were smoothed away (as difficulties in Spain, or elsewhere, do dissolve under prudent treatment), and the _Boadicea_ set free to navigate the marismas, the season had passed and the migrant fowl had returned to the north.

The following autumn, however, it at once became apparent that the venture was a failure. No wildfowl would tolerate her presence within half-a-mile. No sooner had her low snake-like form crept clear of fringing covert than the broad _lucio_ in front was in seething tumult, every duck within sight had sprung on wing. Naturally we tried every known plan, but all in vain. A system that is effective on the harassed and hard-shot estuaries of England utterly broke down on the desolate marismas of Spain. The apparent explanation is that whereas fowl at home are accustomed to see passing craft of many kinds, and perhaps mistake the low-lying gunboat for a larger vessel far away; here no craft of any sort navigate the marisma, or should the box-shape _cajones_ of native gunners be so classed, they are at once recognised as wholly and solely hostile.[63]

One plan remained by which the big gun might be brought to bear upon the larger bodies of fowl: concealing the boat among sedges at some point where ducks had been observed to assemble _within reach_ of such covert. That, however, to begin with, was most uncertain--the only certainty was that enormous drafts on patience would be required; and, after all, it forms no part of the system of wildfowling afloat and lacks the joys and glories of that pursuit.

WILD SWANS IN SPAIN

Since meeting with four hoopers in February 1891, as recorded in _Wild Spain_, we had neither seen nor heard of wild swans in Southern Spain till February of the present year, 1910, when H.R.H. the Duke of Orleans kindly informed us that he had succeeded in shooting one of a pair met with in his marismas of Villamanrique. It proved to be an adult male of Bewick's swan--the first occurrence of that species that has been recorded in Spain.