| Length along front curves | 21¾ | inches |
| Circumference at base | 7⅞ | " |
| Widest span | 16⅜ | " |
| Tip to tip | 17 | " |
Our informant has reason to believe that ibex also exist (or existed within recent years) in the rugged mountains of Tortosa, farther east in Catalonia.
In the form of its horns the Spanish ibex differs essentially from the typical ibex of the Alps—now, alas, exterminated save only in the King of Italy’s preserved ranges around the Val d’Aosta. In the true ibex the horns bend regularly backwards and downwards in a uniform, scimitar-like curve. In the Spanish species, after first diverging laterally, the horns are recurved both inward and finally upward. That is, in the first case they follow a simple semicircular bend, while in the Spanish goats they form almost a spiral.
A minor point of difference lies in the annular rings or notches which in the true ibex are rectangular, encircling the horn in front like steps in a ladder, while in Capra hispánica they rather run obliquely in semi-spiral ascent. These annulations indicate the age of the animal—one notch to each year—but the count must stop where the spiral ends. Beyond that is the lightly grooved tip, which does not alter.
The horns of old rams (which are often broken or worn down at the tips) average 26 to 28 inches, specially fine examples reaching 29 inches or more. The females likewise carry horns, but short and slender, only measuring 6 or 7 inches.
The six isolated colonies of ibex, separated from each other during ages, live under totally different natural conditions. For while some, as stated, exist at 8000, 10,000, or 12,000 feet altitude, others occupy hills of much more moderate elevations—say 4000 to 6000 feet, some of which are bush-clad to their summits. Under such circumstances there have naturally developed divergencies not only in habits, but in form and size. Particularly does this apply to the horns, and for that reason we give a series of photos of typical examples from various points.
The ibex of the Pyrenees is certainly the largest race, and has been entitled by scientists Capra pyrenaica; those of the centre and south of Spain being differentiated as C. hispánica. We attach less importance to specific distinctions, but leave the illustrations of specimens to speak for themselves. It may, however, be remarked that examples from the two outside extremes (Pyrenees and Neváda) most closely assimilate in their flattened and compressed form of horn.
Neither in Grédos nor Neváda are the rock-formations so precipitous as in the Picos de Europa in Asturias—described later in this book. They present, nevertheless, difficulties possibly insuperable to mere hunters unskilled in the technique of climbing. Rock-climbing forms a recognised branch of “mountaineering,” but of that science the authors (with sorrow be it confessed) have never been enamoured. To us, mountains, merely as such, have not appealed. But they form the home of alpine creatures, the study and acquisition of which were objects that no terrestrial obstacle could entirely forbid, and we enjoy retrospective pride in having so far surmounted those antecedent terrors as to have secured a few specimens of this, the most “impossible” of European trophies—the Spanish ibex.
An awkward situation is a subrounded wall of rough granulated granite blocking our course and traversed obliquely by an up-trending fissure barely the breadth of hempen soles, its inclination outward, and the “tread” carpeted with slippery wet moss still half frozen. It is seldom what one can see that gives pause, but the fear of the unseen. Here we hesitate by reason of the uncertainty of what may confront beyond that grim curve. The fissure might cease; to turn back would clearly be impossible. Impatient of delay our crag-born guide—a homo rupestris, prehensile of foot—seized the gun, and with a muttered ejaculation that might have included scorn, in three strides had skipt around the dreaded corner—of course we followed.
Snow-slopes tipped at steep angles never inspire confidence in the unaxed climber, especially when the surface is half melted, revealing green ice beneath, and when the disappearing curve conceals from view what dangers may lurk below. Again a suddenly interrupted ledge—say where some great block has become disintegrated from the hanging face—necessitates a sort of nervy jump quite calculated to shorten one’s days, even if it does not precipitately terminate them.