Ten minutes’ ride and we are within view of our first bandada still a mile away. They may be feeding on some broad slope, resting on the crest of a ridge, or dawdling on a level plain; but wherever the game may be—whatever the strategic value of their position—at least the decision of our own tactics must be clinched at once. No long lingering with futile discussion, no hesitation, or continued spying with the glass is permissible. Such follies instil instant suspicion into the astute brains on yonder hill, and the honours of the first round pass to the enemy.
For this reason it is imperative to appoint one leader vested with supreme authority, and whose directions all must obey instantly and implicitly.
Needless to say, that leader must possess a thorough knowledge both of the habits of bustard and the lie of a country—along with the rather rare faculty of diagnosing at a glance its “advantages,” its dangers, and its salient points over some half-league of space. None too common an attribute that, where all the wide prospect is grey or green, varying according to ever-changing lights, and the downlands so gently graded as occasionally to deceive the very elect. Much of the bustard-country appears all but flat, so slight are its folds and undulations; while even the more favouring regions are rarely so boldly contoured as Salisbury Plain. The leader must combine some of the qualities of a field-marshal with the skill of a deer-stalker, and a bit of red-Indian sleuth thrown in. Luckily, such masters of the craft are not entirely lacking to us.
The thoughts revolving in the leader’s mind during his brief survey follow these general lines: First, which is (a) the favourite and (b) the most favourable line of flight of those bustards when disturbed; secondly, where can guns best be placed athwart that line; thirdly, how can the guns reach these points unseen? A condition precedent to success is that the firing-line shall be drawn around the bustards fairly close up, yet without their knowledge. Now with wild-game in open country devoid of fences, hollows, or covert of any description that problem presents initial difficulties that may well appear insuperable. But they are rarely quite so. It is here that the fieldcraft of the leader comes in. He has detected some slight fold that will shelter horsemen up to a given point, and beyond that, screen a crouching figure to within 300 yards of the unconscious bandada. Rarely do watercourses or valleys of sufficient depth lend a welcome aid; recourse must usually be had to the reverse slope of the hill whereon the bustards happen to be. Without a halt, the party ride round till out of sight. At the farthest safe advance, the guns dismount and proceed to spread themselves out—so far as possible in a semicircle—around the focal point.[45] At 80 yards apart, each lies prone on earth, utilising such shelter (if any) as may exist on the naked decline—say skeleton thistles, a tuft of wild asparagus, or on rare occasion some natural bank or tiny rain-scoop.
Great Bustard—young.
| (2) At Twenty Days Old. | (3) AT ONE MONTH. |
Having now succeeded in placing his guns unseen and within a fatal radius, the leader may congratulate himself that his main object has been achieved. On the nearness of the line to the game, and on his correct diagnosis of the bustards’ flight depends the issue.