For Table of Heads of Mountain-Deer see Chapter on Sierra Moréna.
| Length. (Inches.) | Widest. | Circum- ference. | Points. | Remarks. | ||
| Tips. | Inside. | |||||
| W. I. B. | 32¼ | 30 | ... | ... | 13 | |
| Do. | 31 + 30¼ | 32⅝ | ... | ... | 10 | No bez. |
| P. Garvey | 31 | 28 | ... | 4⅝ | 15 | |
| Col. Brymer | 30½ + 28 | 27 | 23 | 4¼ | 10 | No bez. |
| Col. Echagüe | 30⅛ + 28½ | 20 | 18 | 4½ | 14 | 4 on each top. |
| Villa-Marta, | 29¾ + 29½ | 31¼ | ... | 4½ | 13 | 4 on each top, |
| Marquis | but 1 bez wanting. | |||||
| Segovia, Gonzalo[9] | 29¾ + 29½ | 39½ | ... | 5¼ | 10 | No bez. |
| Arión, Duke of | 29 + 28 | 30 | ... | ... | 14 | |
| A. C. | 29 + 28¼ | 25 | ... | 5 | 12 | |
| Do. | 28½ | 26½ | ... | 5⅛ | 13 | |
| P. N. Gonzalez | 28½ | 25 | 22 | 5 | 12 | |
| Arión, Duke of | 28¼ | 23 | 21½ | 4⅛ | 10 | No bez. |
| F. J. Mitchell | 28 + 27 | 30½ | ... | ... | 14 | 4 on each top. |
| A. C. | 27 + 26¾ | 24 | 24 | 4¼ | 10 | |
| Do. | 25½ | 28¼ | 24 | 4⅕ | 11 | At British Museum. |
| Williams, Alex. | 25½ | 27¾ | 23¼ | 4¼ | 12 | |
| B. F. B. | 25¾ + 24 | 27¼ | 22¾ | 4¼ | 12 | |
| De Bunsen, Sir M. | 25½ + 25 | 27 | ... | 4½ | 11 | |
| B. F. B. | 24½ + 24½ | 27½ | ... | 4½ | 12 | |
| J. C. C. | 23 | 29½ | 22½ | 4⅛ | 12 | |
| B. F. B. | 22½ | 21½ | 19 | 4¼ | 12 | |
Ordinary Royals (by which we mean full-grown stags in their first prime) average 24 or 25 inches in length of horn. Heads of 26 to 28 inches belong to rather older beasts which have continued to improve. Anything beyond the latter measurement is quite exceptional, and is often due, not so much to fair straight length of the main beam as to an abnormal development of one of the top tines—usually directed backwards. There are, however, included in our records two or three examples of long straight heads which fairly exceed the 30-inch length.
CHAPTER V
ANDALUCIA AND ITS BIG GAME
STILL-HUNTING (RED DEER)
THE line of least resistance represents twentieth-century ideals—maximum results for the minimum of labour or technical skill. In the field of sport, wherever available, universal “driving” supersedes the arts of earlier venery—the pride of past generations.
In Spain, more leisurely while no less dignified, there survive in sport, as in other matters, practices more consonant with the dash and chivalry popularly ascribed to her national character. Such, for example, is the attack, single-handed, on bear or boar with cold steel—á arma blanca, in Castilian phrase. Here we purpose describing the system of “Still-hunting” (Rastreando) as practised in Andalucia with a skill that equals the best of the American “Red Indian,” and is only surpassed, within our experience, by Somalis and Wandorobo savages in East Africa.
Before day-dawn we are away with our two trackers. Maybe it is a lucky morning, and as the first streaks of light illumine the wastes, they reveal to our gaze a first-rate stag. In that case the venture is vastly simplified. It is merely necessary to allow time for the stag to reach his lie-up, and the spoor can be followed at once. But barring such exceptional fortune, it is necessary to find, or rather to select from amidst infinity of tracks crossing and recrossing hither and thither in bewildering profusion the trail of such a master-beast as clearly is worthy the labour of a long day’s pursuit. Twice and again we follow a spoor for 100 yards or more over difficult ground before finally deciding that its owner is not up to our standard of quality, and the interrupted search is resumed. Once found, there is rarely room for mistake with a really big spoor. The breadth of heel, the length and deep-cut prints of the cloven toes attest both weight and quality. The ground is open, soft, and easy. The big new track, with its spurts of forward-projected sand, are visible yards ahead. We follow almost at a run—how simple it seems! But not for long. Soon comes check No. 1. A dozen other deer have followed on the same line, and the original trail is obliterated. The troop leads on into a region of boundless bush, shoulder-high, where the ground is harder and the trackers spread out to right and left, backing each other with silent signals. Their skill and patience fascinate; but it is to me, in the centre, that after a long hour’s scrutiny, falls the satisfaction of rediscovering that big track where it diverges alone on the left. Half a mile beyond, our erratic friend has passed through water. For a space a broken reed here or displaced lilies there help us forward; then the deepening water, all open, bears no trace. The opposite shore, moreover, is fringed by a 200-yard belt of bulrush and ten-foot canes, and beyond all that lies heavy jungle.
You give it up? Admittedly these are no lines of least resistance, but we will cut the unpopular part as short as may be and merely add that it was high noon ere, after three hours’ work—puzzling out problems and paradoxes, now following a false clue, anon recovering the true one—that at last the big spoor on dry land once more rejoiced our sight. More than that, it now bears evidence—to eyes that can read—that our stag is approaching his selected stronghold. He goes slowly. Here he has stopped to survey his rear—there he has lingered to nibble a genista, and the spoor zigzags to and fro. Now it turns at sharp angle, following a cheek-wind, and a suggestive grove of cork-oaks embedded in heavy bush lies ahead. One hunter opines the stag lies up here: the other doubts. No half-measures suffice. We turn down-wind, detouring to reach the main outlet (salida) to leeward; here I remain hidden, while my companions, separating on right and left, proceed to encircle the mancha. Two hinds break hard by, and presently Juan returns with word that the stag has passed through the covert—better still, that a second big beast has joined the first, and that the double spoor, moving dead-slow and three-quarters up wind, proceeds due north. Another mile and then right ahead lies heavy covert, but long and straggling, and the halting trail indicates this as a certain find.
The strategic position is simple, but tactics, for a single gun, leave endless scope for decision. Our first rule in all such cases is to get close in, risk what it may. Hence, while my companions separated, as before, to encircle the covert from right and left, the writer crept forward yard by yard till a fairly broad and convenient open suggested the final stand.
Not ten minutes had elapsed, nor had a sound reached my ears, when as by magic the figure of a majestic stag filled a glade on the left—what a picture, as with head erect he daintily picked his unconscious way! Clearly he suspected nothing here; but, having got sense, sight, or scent of Juan far beyond, was astutely moving away, with intelligent anticipation, to safer retreat. The shot was of the simplest, and merely black antlers crowned with triple ivory tips marked the fatal point among deep green rushes.