One afternoon, when returning from snipe-shooting, we fell in with an entrada of quail, in a belt of dry rush and sedges, and had bagged 27½ couples in much less than an hour, when daylight and cartridges ran short.
Andalucian Quail.—Unlike its larger relative, this small quail is not migratory; a few are found at all seasons, especially on the dry palmetto-plains, where at dusk its curious "roaring" note, from which is derived its Spanish name torillo = little bull, is often audible.
Our friend, Mr. W. R. Teage, meets with a few of this small bush-quail nearly every year when shooting near Ovar, in Portugal—generally in September.
The Crane.
Spanish, Grulla.
He who eats the flesh of crane, runs a Spanish proverb, lives a hundred years[77]—and beyond all question the stately Grulla is one of the wariest and most difficult birds to circumvent.
Cranes are common enough throughout all the open vegas and corn-growing plains of Andalucia from early autumn till spring: few days but one sees them either passing high overhead in loudly-gaggling skeins, or feeding in troops on the newly-sown beans or wheat. In the latter case, cranes are not infrequently mistaken for bustard, but rarely permit the cordon of mounted men to be drawn around their position; for, though rarely sought after, the crane is imbued with even wilder spirit than the much-prized bustard. For many years, the few Grullas we succeeded in killing were merely chance-shots at bands passing over, when we had happened to be concealed by tall sedges or bulrush; and even these only by virtue of mould-shot at very great heights.
During a recent winter, however, we discovered a means of shooting these wary fowl. It is the habit of a crane to assemble at some remote marsh for the purpose of roosting. By day, it should be specially remarked, the crane is not a marsh-haunting bird, but is only seen on dry ground, feeding entirely on grain, acorns, and the like; but invariably retiring to the marshes, or wettest spot on the prairie, to roost. Towards the sequestered swamp selected for their dormidero, during the last hour of daylight, files of cranes may be seen winging their stately course. As darkness gathers round, the assembling host presents an animated scene, while the music of their magnificent trumpet-note resounds for miles around.
Such a spectacle we witnessed one March evening when on a bustard-shooting expedition; and returning a week later, had, at length, the wary cranes at our mercy. Ensconced in "blinds" of rudely-woven carices near the centre of a dreary swamp, we soon had these majestic birds filing close overhead, or flapping past at pistol-range. Not less than 500 cranes must have appeared, "flighting" from every point of the compass, and the sight, with the sound of their clarion-notes, formed, for half an hour, as impressive a spectacle of bird-life as we have witnessed.
There is intense gratification in out-generalling any animal that has long defied one's efforts; but it is rather a sense of supremacy than mere slaughter that is sought. After shooting seven specimens of the "flighting" Grullas, we were content, and have never since molested them. This marsh, which, being "ten miles from anywhere," is an awkward place for evening flight-shooting, continued to be their nightly resort till well on into April, after which date the crane disappears from Southern Spain; though (as elsewhere recorded) a small and decreasing colony continues to breed in the neighbourhood of the Lagunas de Janda.