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 manœuvre 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.