They envelope a pigeon in a sort of shirt made of horse-hair and a quantity of wool. A horseman rides about a desert place carrying this lure with him, and when he sees a bird of race, throws it up into the air and then hides himself. The falcon stoops and strikes it, but her legs and talons become entangled in the wool and hair, and her struggles only make her position worse. At last, stupefied and exhausted, she finishes by alighting, or rather by falling on the ground, when the horseman issues from his hiding place and secures her. A perch is prepared for her in the chief's own tent, to which the bird is fastened by an elegant thong of filali.[[87]] It is needless to add that the greatest care is taken to attach the jesses, so as not to hurt the bird, or cause her unnecessary inconvenience. The master of the tent feeds her with his own hands once a day, about two in the afternoon. Her ordinary food is raw mutton, very clean, and carefully cut up. She is not stinted as to quantity, may eat to satiety, and is even expected to improve in condition.
By way of commencing her education, they proceed in this manner. They show her a large piece of flesh, and at the same time call to her three times, with a cry that may be represented by the sound long drawn out of "Ouye! ouye! ouye!" The bird throws herself upon the meat, which is not given up to her, but which she fights hard to get hold of. They draw it away slowly, still showing it to her and teasing her, until she is quite exhausted, when they give her several small morsels on her perch. Up to that time, the falcon is kept scrupulously within the tent, remaining hood-winked all day, and also during the first few nights, until she is accustomed to live with the women and children, the dogs and other animals. This last point is difficult to manage, and is never completely achieved.
When the "gentle" bird has got thus far, when she is used to accept her food upon the perch, in the manner above described, the circle of her prison is extended. She is fastened by the foot to a cord, or creance, of camel's hair, soft and pliable, from fifty to sixty cubits in length, which allows her to go abroad. Outside of the tent, they repeat the lesson of calls to come and be fed, cautiously feeling their way. The falcon is in this manner tended a long time within the tent, going out only to receive her food. When her master is quite sure of having accustomed her to himself, he takes her with him on his fist to a considerable distance, putting on and off her hood several times, at different intervals. It is not without difficulty, without many struggles, that the bird accommodates herself to the scene abroad, but by degrees she becomes used to that also.
At this period, the last touch is given to her education, by means of the same calls, the same alternations of teasing and gratifying; but far from the tent and the douar, without hood and without leash, her food is given to her. As soon as she is gorged, the hood and leash are replaced. After that, her master never moves a step without her perched upon his fist. But this is not enough. The bird is only tamed—she has yet to be trained for the sport. Accordingly, they take a hare and cut its throat, disclosing the gash by drawing back the skin, so as to let the flesh appear. Then, inside the tent, they take off the hood of the falcon, who springs at the throat of the animal, and is allowed to worry it for a time in order to get a taste for it; and a little later they give her some of the flesh. This manœuvre is repeated seven or eight days following, with a live hare, whose ears the master keeps pulling to make it squeal, while he himself utters the call "Ouye! Ouye!" The falcon precipitates herself on the head of the animal and fights for it, pecking out the eyes, and sometimes the tongue. The hare is then opened, and some of the flesh given to the bird. This exercise is repeated more or less frequently, according to the bird's aptitude for learning.
The hawking season is now at hand. The bird must be put to the proof, to ascertain if she has profited by these lessons so skilfully graduated, by this education so laboriously inculcated, and so appropriate to her nature and to the style of sport for which she is intended. They go out, therefore, on horseback, taking the "gentle" bird hood-winked, and proceed to an open plain, or a vast plateau, having first provided themselves with five or six live hares. Having reached the appointed spot they take a hare and, having broken its four feet, let it go within the scope of the bird's ken. Squeaking and moaning it hobbles on as well as it can, when they unhood the falcon, and throw her off—exclaiming Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar! The terakel, impatient, soars straight up toward the sky, and from a great height swoops down upon the hare, which she kills, or stuns, with a single blow with her tightly closed talons, as with a fist. The hunters come up, bleed and open the animal, and give the entrails, the liver, and the heart to the bird, who devours them on the spot. After repeating this lesson several days in succession, the training of the bird is considered complete.
This course of instruction has extended from summer to near the end of autumn, which is the favourable season, for the falcon only hunts well in cloudy and cold weather. She cannot endure the glare of the sun, nor yet thirst or heat. She would leave her master to go in search of water, which she sees from afar, and would never return. At that period, then, a party sets out after a light breakfast, at about eleven in the morning, with the falcon on the shoulder or on the fist. The only provisions they take with them are camel's milk, dates, bread, and dried grapes.
But the sport does not begin until after a tolerably long ride, towards three in the afternoon. The cavalcade is usually a numerous one. Having reached a suitable spot, they scatter about, beating the brushwood and tufts of alfa in the hope of starting a hare, which they drive towards the man who holds the falcon. As soon as the quarry is sighted, the latter unhoods the bird, and throws her off; pointing with his finger to the hare, and exclaiming Ha hou! "there it is!" While her master is pronouncing the sacramental Bi es-sem Allah! Allah akbar! the bird is off, soars out of sight, keeping the hare in view all the time with her piercing eye, and then precipitates herself upon it, and strikes it, either on the head or on the shoulder, one blow with her closed talons, violent enough to stun, if not to kill it. The horsemen, seeing the falcon stoop, gallop up from all quarters, surround her, and generally find her engaged in picking out the eyes of the hare. To make her let go, some one draws out from below his burnous the skin of another hare, and throws it down a little way off, when she immediately pounces upon it. Her curée, or reward, is not given to her until after their return to the douar.
It will be readily understood that, though the bird was fed abundantly, and even to excess, during the time she was being tamed, and taught to obey the call, she is kept somewhat sparingly during the hawking season, to avoid making her dull and depriving her of her full power, and in order to make her a good hunter, that is, ardent and alert.
It is no uncommon thing with two or three falcons to kill from ten to fifteen hares in a day. A large bird called the habara[[88]] is also hunted with the thair el horr, and in this wise. The hunters ride on until they meet with habaras, who generally go in couples, or in companies of half a dozen and more. The falcon is on the fist. Her hood is removed, and the birds are pointed out to her. When thoroughly roused, she is thrown off with the invocation, Bi es-sem Allah! She soars aloft, stoops upon her quarry, strikes it on the head, and holds it in the pitiless grasp of her talons in spite of the desperate struggles of the victim, until the horsemen come up and snatch it from her. One of them then bleeds it to death, and gives the falcon her reward. The flesh of this bird intoxicates the falcon, according to the Arabs, either because of the perfumed vapour emanating from it, or because she is proud of the capture of a habara, a dainty fit to set before a Sultan. Thus, when she is replaced on the shoulder, she struts and balances herself, and executes her fantasia. If the habara attempts to fly, the falcon soars, and both mount together, the latter rising higher and higher till she is well above the other, when she precipitates herself upon it like a thunder-bolt, and breaks, first a wing, and then the sternum. They fall together, tumbling over and over, but the falcon always managing to keep uppermost and to hold her victim beneath her, so that it alone may feel the shock of this frightful fall.
The "gentle" bird hunts, also, the seroun, the hamma, and the agad. Some falcons will not hunt the habara. They are never trained to hunt partridges, as it is feared that, if they became accustomed to it, they would prefer a feathered quarry to one with a skin. If a bird delays to return to her master, a horseman, holding in his hand the skin of a hare furnished with ears and feet, gallops up towards her and throws this lure to her, at the same time hooping "Ouye!": she generally answers to the call. This interjection, if I may so express myself, is the vocative of the bird of race. The falcon, when properly trained, seldom betrays, that is, escapes from her master. They are sometimes lost, however, by their passion for a desert bird called hamma, which they pursue with fury.