The Jay, though common in the mountain-forests, and in Portugal, is not seen on the South-Spanish plains; but the Magpie absolutely swarms. During lunch one day I counted upwards of seventy in sight at a time, and from one spot. A rushy glade before us was dotted all over with them; their pied breasts surmounted nearly every bush. Further away, I also counted during the half-hour's halt (without including such small fry as Kestrels, etc.) no less than twenty-one large birds of prey—several Kites of both kinds, a soaring Buzzard or two, Marsh-and Montagu's Harriers, and at least a pair of eagles.

Such a spectacle would probably break the heart of an orthodox British gamekeeper; to preserve any fair head of game in presence of such an array of "vermin"—both powerful raptores and cunning egg-thieves—he would certainly assert to be impossible. So, in England, it probably would be; yet here our game-books record bags varying from 150 to 300 partridge, besides other game, in a day, and totals of from 1,000 to 1,200 head and upwards in a fortnight's shooting. Yet those who advocate the status quo in nature and condemn dogmatically any interference therewith by the hand of man, would be wrong in jumping to the conclusion that the co-existence in Spain of a considerable head of game with a host of their most powerful enemies, is any solid substantiation of their theories, in a general sense.

To this question of nature's balance of life we may devote a little space; it is seldom so simple as at first sight may appear. Here in Spain its solution depends on factors some of which do not exist and would have, consequently, no bearing at home; but the general features of the particular case in point may be summed up in three lines: (1) Spain is a land teeming with reptile-life; (2) The reptiles in the aggregate are the most deadly enemies to game; and (3) it is upon reptiles that the raptorial birds habitually prey.

The large eagles, it is true, prefer rabbits and partridges to anything else; but the "catch" of their smaller relatives, the Booted and Serpent-Eagles, the Kites, Buzzards and Hawks, is composed chiefly of reptiles—lizards, snakes, blindworms, salamanders, and the like—as well as the larger insects, such as locusts, cicadas, scorpions, grasshoppers, the huge horned scarabæi and other coleoptera of which so great a variety abound in Southern Spain. At the end of this chapter we annex a brief analysis, the result of a number of post-mortem examinations of the crops and stomachs of various raptorial birds, which shows pretty conclusively that while game, etc., is included in their menu, by far the greater portion of their attack is directed against the reptile race—itself the most pernicious to game and all the defenceless creation. It is, in fact, a warfare of raptor versus raptorem, of feathered freebooter against scaled marauder, and the harmless and peaceful balance of creation benefit by that internecine state of war.

The destruction that is wrought by the larger reptiles is difficult to exaggerate; both snakes and lizards are inveterate egg-stealers, and also devour large quantities of young game, whether furred or feathered, besides other creatures. Gliding noiselessly, rapidly, and with an infinite stealth, their approach is imperceptible, whether through brushwood or scrub, through shallow water or yielding sand, whether above ground or below—they penetrate the deep burrows of rabbit or Bee-eater, and scale the loftiest fortresses of tree-nesting species. Equally at home on the ground or amongst the topmost branches, nothing can well escape the larger serpents and saurians. Were they not held in check by nature's counterpoise, hardly a young rabbit could survive, or a Partridge, Quail, or Wild Duck succeed in rearing their broods. Neither ground nor tree-nesting birds are safe: we have seen a Cushat's nest which in the morning had contained its two eggs, occupied towards evening by the sleeping coils of a green Eyed Lizard (Lacerta ocellata), measuring nearly a yard in length, and thousands of promising families are yearly called into existence only to provide sustenance for cold-blooded, scaly saurians.

Here are three or four examples extracted from our note-book:—

"April 23rd.—While on the sand-ridge overlooking the laguna de Santolalla, watching a pair of Marbled Ducks, some Crested Grebes, etc., heard subterranean scuffling and rumblings. Presently two rabbits bolted, and from a hole close by emerged the writhing tail of a great green lizard, backing out, and dragging, by an engulfed hind leg, a half-grown rabbit, too terrified to squeal. In some rushes we lost sight of the reptile, but two minutes later, put him out and shot him. The hapless rabbit was then gorged—head downwards."

"May 18th.—Dug out a Bee-eater's colony—some of the tunnels quite eight or ten feet deep. In two of the nests found snakes, coiled up. One big black fellow entombed the remains of four or five Bee-eaters, swallowed entire, besides many eggs. The smaller snake contained eggs and a brace of Field-mice."

"May 23rd.—Heard two Partridges in a great state of excitement; coming up, saw a snake in the act of devouring a half-feathered chick. The brute, which only measured three feet, nine inches, already contained four young Partridges!"