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THE
BĀZ-NĀMA-YI NĀṢIRĪ
A PERSIAN TREATISE ON FALCONRY

I
HUNTING AND HAWKING SCENE
(FROM A PAINTING IN AN ANCIENT PERSIAN MS.)

THE
BĀZ-NĀMA-YI NĀṢIRĪ
A PERSIAN TREATISE ON FALCONRY

TRANSLATED BY
LIEUT.-COLONEL D. C. PHILLOTT
SECRETARY, BOARD OF EXAMINERS, CALCUTTA,
GENERAL SECRETARY AND PHILOLOGICAL SECRETARY, ASIATIC SOCIETY OF BENGAL,
FELLOW OF THE CALCUTTA UNIVERSITY, EDITOR OF THE PERSIAN
TEXT OF THE QAWĀNĪN^u ’Ṣ-ṢAYYĀD
ETC. ETC.

LONDON
BERNARD QUARITCH
1908

[500 copies of this book have been printed]

TO
HIS EXCELLENCY
THE ʿALA^U ’L-MULK
formerly
Governor-General of Kirmān
and
Persian Baluchistan
THIS TRANSLATION IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
In Memory
of
Certain Days not Unpleasant when we Met in the
BĀG͟H
AND MINGLED OUR TEARS OVER OUR
EXILE

TRANSLATOR’S INTRODUCTION

The author of this work was Ḥusām^u ’d-Dawlah Taymūr Mīrzā, [1] one of the nineteen sons of Ḥusayn ʿAlī Mīrzā,[1] Farmān-Farmā, the Governor of the Province of Fārs, and one of the sons of Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh, Qājār.

On the death of Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh, in A.H. 1250 (A.D. 1834), general confusion prevailed: the claimants to the Crown were many. The details of these claims and the actions of the various aspirants to establish them are exceedingly complicated and difficult to follow. The old Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān first mounted the throne at Teheran. His nephew the young Muḥammad Mīrzā was then Governor of Tabrīz, and his troops had not been paid for some time. However, receiving pecuniary support from the English ambassador, and moral support from the Russian, he marched on Teheran (putting out the eyes of a brother or two en route), and was met by the army (hastily paid up to date, and even in advance), of the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān. The moving spirit in Muḥammad Mīrzā’s army appears to have been an Englishman named Lynch, who, nominally in command of the artillery, virtually managed what cannot be better described than as “the whole show.” The camp of the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān awoke in the morning to discover that, during the night, their General had gone over to the enemy; and that Mr. Lynch, having pointed four big guns at their camp, was haranguing them from his position, and exhorting them to go home. His arguments appeared reasonable. Part of the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān’s army crossed over to Mr. Lynch, and part returned home. “In a moment, this fine army was disbanded, scattered like the stars of the Great Bear, every man going to his own place.”

Muḥammad Mīrzā now entered Teheran without the slightest opposition, and his uncle the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān, “in the greatest despondency,” placed the crown on his head and handed him the state jewels. Muḥammad Shāh (no longer Mīrzā) then proceeded to despatch the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān and most of his uncles and brothers to the dreaded fortress of Ardabīl.

Shayk͟h ʿAlī Mīrzā, Shayk͟h^u ’l-Mulūk, “though he had none of the requisites of sovereignty except a band of music,” was another prince that made an even more feeble bid for the throne. He was then Governor of Tūy Sarkān. Royal governors, in Persia, have bands that play in the evening; but a morning band is a prerogative of the Shāh. Shayk͟h ʿAlī Mīrzā ordered his band to play in the morning as well as in the evening, and thought that by so doing he had become Shāh. However, on receiving the unexpected news that Muḥammad Shāh was in Teheran, he tendered his submission, and was soon packed off to join the “caravan” at Ardabīl.

Ḥaydar Qulī Mīrzā, Ṣāḥib Ik͟htiyār, another royal prince, also made a burlesque attempt to obtain sovereignty. His own adherents split into two parties, quarrelled amongst themselves, and then at a moment’s notice turned him out of the city of which he was Governor. On his way to Isfahan he fell off his horse, and was carried into that city in a prostrate condition. Once or twice, after this, he flits across the page of history as a fugitive from the wrath of Muḥammad Shāh.

It must not be supposed that all this time the Farmān-Farmā, the father of our author and the eldest living son of the late Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh, was idle. He seems to have been popular in Fārs, for Shīrāz was kind enough to offer him the crown of Persia. He induced his brother the Shujāʿ^u ’s-Salt̤anah, the Governor of Kirmān, to have coins struck in his name there, and also the K͟hut̤bah read in his name at the Friday prayers. He further sat on a throne in Shīrāz. A few days later, news of the arrival of Muḥammad Shāh in Teheran and of the abdication of the Z̤ill^u ’s-Sult̤ān, reached him. The Shujāʿ^u ’s-Salt̤anah, who had arrived at Shīrāz from Kirmān, was then placed in command of an army, and under him were two of the Farmān-Farmā’s sons, Najaf Qulī Mīrzā in command of the Cavalry, and Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā in command of the Infantry. The destination of the army appears to have been Isfahan, the inhabitants of which, it was hoped, would declare for the Farmān-Farmā. The season was winter. The second march was commenced in a storm of snow and rain. The plains became a lake: the hill passes were blocked by snow: men and horses died: guns sank in the mud: property was lost. Rations, too, ran short, and the country had lately been visited by locusts. Even proper guides were wanting. But worst of all, one march from Isfahan, Mr. Lynch was discovered blocking the way. In the night, three of Mr. Lynch’s artillerymen “deserted” to the Shīrāz camp, and tampered with its artillery. In the skirmish next morning, all the artillery horses of the Shīrāz camp went bodily over to Mr. Lynch. The remainder of the Shīrāz army scattered and disappeared, got entangled in the mountains, and retraced its steps to find Mr. Lynch with some artillery blocking one path, and a Mr. “Shir”—apparently another Englishman—blocking another.

The Shīrāz Commander-in-Chief, with his two nephews, and presumably a remnant of the army, eventually slunk back into Shīrāz, in a miserable plight from hunger and exhaustion. A grand Council was then held, and everybody talked, and the Farmān-Farmā listened to all in turn. One thing seems quite certain, no one did anything. Strange rumours now began to reach Shīrāz of weird Turkish troops that spoke no Persian, and were commanded by an ubiquitous Englishman. The merchants, panic-stricken, fled with their property. The city people revolted, and seized some towers; while the troops, of course, deserted to the other side. A faithful eunuch then informed the Farmān-Farmā that he had met some of the city people on their way to seize the gates, and that a plan had been concocted for capturing the Farmān-Farmā with all his relations, adding that the delay of one minute meant the loss of everything. Still the Farmān-Farmā shilly-shallied: still he maintained his attitude of keeping “one foot in the stirrup and one on the ground,” giving ear, first to the advice of his son to flee, and then to the advice of his brother the Shujāʿ^u ’s-Salt̤anah to stay. The result was, that the two elder princes were taken. The Farmān-Farmā was deported to Teheran, where he was honourably treated but speedily died. The Shujāʿ^u ’s-Salt̤anah was carried to Teheran, deprived of his sight en route, and then sent to enliven the family party at Ardabīl. The princes, Najaf Qulī Mīrzā, Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā, Taymūr Mīrzā the author of this Bāz-Nāma, with Nawāb Ḥājiya the mother of Najaf Qulī Mīrzā, and three more princes, brothers or half-brothers, narrowly effected their escape, and a month later reached Bag͟hdād in safety.

At that time relations between the English and Persian Courts were extremely friendly. The eldest prince, Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā, with his brothers Najaf Qulī Mīrzā, and Taymūr Mīrzā our author, started for England to obtain the mediation of William IV., reaching London viâ Damascus and Beyrout in the summer of 1836. Their journey from Damascus to Beyrout was as feckless and mismanaged as their expedition to Isfahan.

For four months the princes were a popular feature of London Society, and during that time succeeded in losing their hearts several times. Then, as they had obtained the object of their journey, Lord Palmerston having arranged matters to their satisfaction, they returned to Bag͟hdād and exile.

Najaf Qulī Mīrzā wrote an account in Persian of the events that occurred on the death of their grandfather Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh, and of their own adventures in consequence, and he also kept a diary of their tour to England and back.

Asʿad Yaʿqūb K͟hayyāt̤,[2] a Syrian Christian who had accompanied the princes to Europe as Dragoman, secured this MS. in Bag͟hdād; but on his journey back to Syria he was held up by Bedouins and deprived of that portion of the MS. that treated of the actual flight of the princes from Shīrāz and of the arrest of their father—the illiterate Arabs mistaking these pages for the Holy Qurʾān. The remainder of the journal was translated by him into English, and under the title of a “Journal of a Residence in England and of a Journey from and to Syria, of their Royal Highnesses Reeza Koolee Meerza, Najaf Koolee Meerza, and Taymoor Meerza of Persia,” was printed in London for private circulation only. The present tragi-comic page of Persian history has been compiled, partly from this narrative, and partly from Persian sources.

Some twenty-eight years after the bid for sovereignty, and fourteen years after the death of their cousin Muḥammad Shāh, the two princes Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā and Taymūr Mīrzā started from Bag͟hdād to revisit their native land. Who knows what secret hopes they cherished, what dreams they dreamt of royal favour? In a few pathetic words, our author, in his Preface, informs us that, at the second stage of their journey, the truth of the sacred text, ‘And ye know not in what land death shall overtake you,’ was forcibly revealed to him: his brother suddenly sickened and died.

Taymūr Mīrzā was well received by Nāṣir^u ’d-Dīn Shāh, whose constant companion he became in all sporting expeditions. He died in A.H. 1291 (A.D. 1874); I am told, in Teheran.

In Persia, and round Bag͟hdād, Taymūr Mīrzā’s name is still a household word. “Ah,” exclaim the Persians when hawking is mentioned, “if Taymūr Mīrzā were only here.”

His treatise on Falconry, of which the present book is a translation, was composed in A.H. 1285 (A.D. 1868) and was originally lithographed in Teheran. A second, and perhaps a third, edition was lithographed in Bombay, a few pages on pigeons and game-fowl, apparently written in India, being added as an Appendix.

The present translation has been made from a copy of the original Teheran edition to which marginal notes have been added by a former owner. For the versification I am indebted to the assistance of poetical friends.

D. C. P.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Mīrzā after (not before) a name signifies Prince.

[2] In his translation of the Journal he transliterates his name Asaad Y. Kayat. K͟hayyāt̤ is a common family name amongst Syrian Christians.

II
FACSIMILE OF A PAGE OF THE TEHERAN LITHOGRAPHED EDITION

THE
“BĀZ-NĀMA-YI NĀṢIRĪ”
A TREATISE ON FALCONRY DEDICATED TO NĀṢIR^U ’D-DĪN SHĀH OF PERSIA
In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate

Let us embroider this Treatise on Falconry with the design of the Praise of the All-Sufficient; and let us exalt our Pen by a votive offering of praise to the Great Fashioner, in the path of whose worship the wings of those falcon-like Pure Spirits of the Saints are spread wide open,[3] like as the portals of His Mercy are opened wide in the faces of those that truly love Him. Let us also praise the matchless beauty and grandeur and perfection of that high-soaring Bird,[4] the robe of whose being God adorned with this sacred verse: “And was at the distance of two bow-strings, or even less.”[5]

We further extol the Family, the Humā[6] of whose noble spirit soars aloft on the pinions of sure belief and true knowledge, winging its way to the eyrie of union with the Eternal Phœnix:—

Falcons thrice four and twain,[7] that on the wing

Of Unity soar ever hovering

Round Caucasus (within whose rocky caves

Dwells the Sīmurg͟h); while ever on their graves

The clouds of God’s Grace every moment pour

Unnumbered blessings from His bounteous store.

Thus says this writer, His Royal Highness Prince Taymūr Mīrzā,[8] son of the Blessed[9] Ḥusayn ʿAlī Mīrzā, Farmān-Farmā,[10] and grandson of the Blessed[9] King Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh, Qājār (whom Allah has clothed in the Robes of Light):—At the beginning of the reign of King Muḥammad Shāh (the Receiver of God’s Pardon[11] and a Dweller in Paradise), in the year of the Flight 1250 (a thousand blessings and praises on Him that performed it[12]) I with my brothers Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā[8], Nāqib^u ’l-Iyāla, and Najaf Qulī Mīrzā, Wālī, both my elders, and Shāh-ruk͟h Mīrzā, and Iskandar Mīrzā, younger than the writer, departed from the Province of Fārs on a pilgrimage to the Sacred Karbalā[13]—best of blessings and perfect benedictions on its silent[14] inmates! After a residence of some months in that Celestial City, I, as God and Fate decreed, with my brother Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā and Najaf Qulī Mīrzā took a journey to Europe, returning to the Holy Places[15] after the space of a year and a half. By the grace of God we spent the long space of thirty years, in peace and freedom, in those Abodes of Peace, visiting the Holy Shrines and hawking and hunting in their environs.

When the throne of the Kingdom of Īrān—which God protect from the changes and vicissitudes of Time—was adorned and illuminated by the splendour of the auspicious accession of His Majesty Shāh Nāṣir^u ’d-Dīn, a Jamshīd in rank, the shade of God’s Grace and His Blessing to men, the Divinely-aided, a King and the son of Kings; and when the fame of the Justice and the echo of the Clemency of this peerless Monarch spread and resounded throughout the world, nay reached even to the high oratories of Heaven’s Dome, I, your humble slave, with Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā, left Bag͟hdād, the Abode of Peace,[16] in the year of the Flight 1279, on a pilgrimage to Holy Meshed, in order to kiss the sacred shrine of the Eighth Imām,—the blessings of God Almighty on him, his honoured forefathers, and his descendants the Leaders of men!

In Kirmānshāh his pre-destined death overtook Riẓā Qulī Mīrzā, in the Fort known as Ḥājī Karīm, one of the stages on our journey; and in accordance with the passage, “All that breathes shall taste of death,” he passed away, and the hidden mystery of, “No living thing knoweth in what land it shall die” was manifested to us.

When the bird of his spirit spread its wings and soared to the eyrie of Rest we despatched his bier to the Holy City of Najaf[17] (thousands of blessings on him that has sanctified it) where was his dwelling-place and ancestral home, so that he might there be buried with his fathers, while I, alone, with my burden of grief continued on my way to the most Sacred City.[18]

When I was blessed by the pilgrimage to Haẓrat-i ʿAbd^u ’l-ʿAz̤īm[19]—Peace and Honour be to him—the intense heat had already set in, and His Majesty and his Court were moving to the summer residence at Shimrānāt. Certain well-wishers of His Majesty and of the State informed him of my circumstances. Since the Creator of Existence, He who has made the heights and the depths, has decreed for every low estate a high estate, and for every grief a joy, and for every disgrace an honour, and for every pain a cure, the Royal mind was inspired to appoint Dūst ʿAlī K͟hān, the Minister of Public Works, to summon this attached slave to the Presence. So, according to Royal Mandate, I drove with the Minister in his carriage to Nayāvarān,[20] where the Royal Camp then was. After a short wait in the shade of the tent we were honoured by admittance to the sun-like Presence of the King—May our souls be his sacrifice! Such kindness he showed and so wide did he open the doors of his favour and kingly condescension, that what I had heard was but a thousandth part of the reality—as it were but a handful as a sample of an ass-load. I exclaimed:—

When the poor traveller’s glance on thee alight,

Thy beauty charms his vision with its sight.

No longer wishful through the world to roam,

His heart but seeks to find with thee a home.

He spoke on various topics and strung the pearls of kingly words—and kings’ words are the kings of words—on the string of discourse. I too, his slave, according to my mean ability, presented my poor contribution to the conversation, which at last turned on sport. The Shadow of God (may our souls be his sacrifice) is an expert of experts in all sports, but especially in shooting. I have never seen or heard of his equal in shooting, either on foot, or off a galloping horse. For example, one day in the Kūh-i Shahristānak, I and Mahdī Qulī K͟hān the G͟hulām bachcha-bāshī, and Āqā Kushī K͟hān the gun-keeper, were sitting with him behind a stone—Muṣt̤afā Qulī K͟hān the Mīrshikār[21] with several other rifles having made a circuit to drive the herd of wild sheep within range of the king’s rifle—when the herd suddenly turned aside and made off. Five three-year old rams that had not scented the danger came fearlessly on towards the stone behind which His Majesty and the rest of us were crouching. His Majesty had with him a double-barrelled gun for slugs, and three rifles. When the rams arrived within forty paces, His Majesty fired the gun and brought down one with one barrel, and a second with the second barrel. The three remaining rushed down the hill. His Majesty seized the rifles with his auspicious hand, and by the will of the One God brought down all three head one after the other:—

The Heavens exclaimed “Bravo!”

The Angels cried “Well-done!”[22]

Now only an expert shot knows at what ranges to fire five successive and successful shots at a fleeing herd.

No sport is this but miracle and wonder!

True it is that kings are the shadow of God and able to accomplish all by the help of their Master.

As long as in the heavens the Lord shall reign,

May our King’s rule upon the earth remain;

For surely so long will a shadow last

As He by whom the shadow’s self is cast.[23]

Many other feats, too, like this I’ve seen, up till now, the year 1285[24] (of the Flight).

Sixty-four years of my life have now passed, all spent in hunting and shooting. I have had no hobby but sport, no recreation but it.

This slave of the King’s Court, Taymūr, desired that like the ant he should present his offering to the Court of the Solomon of the Age,[25] that is, compose a treatise on Falconry and its branches, and on the various species of hawks and their treatment in health and disease.

Although the old Falconers have written treatises on this subject, still in my humble opinion those old writers were by no means experts in their science and should not be classed as masters in their art. I, therefore, thought of myself writing on the subject and leaving a memento for all lovers of the sport, whether tyros or experts. When these are seated by a stream, refreshed and rested after the morning’s sport, I hope they will recall the writer in their prayers and pass over the shortcomings of his work.

I have honoured my book with the auspicious name of His Majesty the King, and have named it the Bāz-Nāma-yi Nāṣirī and have divided it into several bābs.[26]

FOOTNOTES:

[3] Tajnīs: a play upon the words bāz, “a goshawk,” and bāz, “open.”

[4] i.e., Muḥammad.

[5] Qurān, liii, 9.

[6] Humā, the Lammergeyer; vide Journal and Proceedings Asiatic Society of Bengal, Vol. II, No. 10, 1906.

[7] i.e., the 14 Maʿṣūms, which are Muḥammad, Fāt̤imah, and his descendants the 12 Imāms.

[8] Mīrzā after a name signifies Prince: Mīrzā before a name signifies one whose mother is a Sayyida. But Mĭrzā (with short i) before a name signifies a “clerk, writer, etc.”

[9] Marḥūm, “blessed” (usually only of Muslims by Muslims), signifies “dead and pardoned by God,” i.e., “late.”

[10] Farmān-Farmā—a title, and also a Governor or Viceroy. Ḥusayn ʿAlī Mīrzā, much lauded by the Poet Qā,ānī, was Governor of Fārs.

[11] i.e., “deceased;” vide [note 9.]

[12] i.e., on the Prophet.

[13] ʿAtabāt-i ʿAlīyāt, the “Exalted Thresholds,” is a Shīʿah term for the city of Kerbalā, the burial place of the martyrs Imām Ḥusayn, his family and his followers; sometimes Najaf and Kāz̤imayn are included.

[14] i.e., those buried in those sacred spots.

[15] Amākin-i Musharrafa.

[16] Dār^u ’s-Salām is an epithet or a name of Baghdad.

[17] Najaf-i Ashraf; near Kerbalā and the burial place of ʿAlī.

[18] Arẓ-i Aqdas is Mash,had-i Muqaddas.

[19] Probably the place of this name near Teheran, the burial place of the saint from which the place takes its name.

[20] Near Shimrānāt.

[21] Mīr-shikār; in Persia a head game-keeper, but in India a title of any bird-catcher, assistant falconer, etc.

[22] From the Shāh-Nāma.

[23] The Shāh, and in fact all kings, are styled “The Shadow of God.”

[24] A.D. 1868.

[25] The allusion is to some story of the ant presenting Solomon with the leg of a locust.

[26] The book, however, contains only two numbered bābs; the first, pages 1 to 26 (1st Edition) on “The species of Hunting-birds;” and the second, the remaining 157 pages of the book on other subjects. The 2nd bāb, however, commences with: “On the black-eyed birds of prey that have at various times of my life come into my possession and which....”

CONTENTS

Part I
THE YELLOW-EYED BIRDS OF PREY

CHAPTER I
ON THE SHORT-WINGED HAWKS USED IN FALCONRY

The Birds of Prey are divided into two great divisions, the “Yellow-eyed” and the “Black-eyed,” these being again sub-divided into numerous species.

We will first treat of the Yellow-eyed Division.

III
PERSIAN CARPET DEPICTING HAWKING SCENE

T̤ug͟hral [Crested Goshawk?]—The first species worthy of note is the T̤ug͟hral.[27] During my many wanderings I have searched diligently for this species, but in vain, and am, therefore, unable to describe it from personal knowledge. There is a current tradition, that a single specimen was once brought to Persia from China,[28] and presented as a curiosity to King Bahrām-i Gūr,[29] who treasured it greatly and guarded it jealously. One sad day, when the king was out hawking, the t̤ug͟hral suddenly took to “soaring” and was quickly lost to the sight of the disconsolate monarch. His retinue were soon scattered in every direction in search of the missing hawk, and the king was left almost alone, being attended by a few only of the royal favourites. Bahrām-i Gūr and his party also took up the search; and wandering far and wide, at length happened on a large and shady garden, where they alighted. The bewildered owner of the garden advanced exclaiming:—

“The simple peasant on whose ‘kulāhed’[30] head

The Sultan, Phoebus-like, his grandeur shed,

Trembles within his soul and well nigh dies,

That on him shines the Sultan’s kindly eyes.”

On being questioned about the lost hawk he replied, “What a T̤ug͟hral may be, I know not, but not two hours since a hawk with bells and a jewelled ‘halsband,’[31] took stand in a tree of this very garden; but taking fright at my attempt to secure it, it flew off and settled in that grove yonder.” Bahrām was overjoyed at this clue, which enabled him to recover his lost favourite.[32]

From this reference to a “halsband” and bells, and to the t̤ug͟hral’s habit of sitting on trees, the author concludes that this unknown species belongs to the yellow-eyed division of the birds of prey.

FOOTNOTES:

[27] T̤ug͟hral; a species frequently mentioned in old Persian MSS. on falconry. It is probably the “Crested Goshawk” (Astur trivirgatus) which is said to have been formerly trained in India. Jerdon, quoting Layard, says it is trained in Ceylon. The T̤ug͟hral is confused by Indian falconers with the Shāh-bāz, or “Royal Goshawk” which, according to Jerdon, is the name given by native falconers of Southern India to the Crested Hawk-Eagle (Limnætus cristatellus). The same author also quotes Major Pearse as his informant that the Rufous-bellied Hawk-Eagle (L. kienierii) is, “Very rarely procured from the N.W. Himalayas and trained for hunting and is known as the Shāh-bāz.”

[28] Chīn; under this name are included Yarkand, Khutan, Mongolia, Manchuria, etc.

[29] Bahrām was surnamed Gūr, from his passion for hunting the gūr or wild ass. He belonged to the Sassanian dynasty of Persian kings and his name frequently occurs in Persian poetry. The Greek Varanes is said to be a corruption of Bahrām.

CHAPTER II
THE GOSHAWKS

Three species.—[The author now describes three races of goshawk, which he distinguishes by the names of Tīqūn; T̤arlān; and Qizil:[33] each of these three he sub-divides into varieties, only distinguishable from each other by slight differences in colouring, in marking, or in size. The first-named species is the white goshawk; the second is that variety or race of the common goshawk that is caught after migration into Persia; while the third is the local race that breeds in the country.

After hazarding a conjecture that the white goshawks[34] are not a true species like the T̤arlān and Qizil, but are either albinos, or else accidental varieties produced by the pairing, for one or more generations, of two exceptionally light specimens of the common goshawk, the author proceeds to describe a pure white variety of the Tīqūn, which, he says, is known to the people of Turkistan by the name of Kāfūrī.[35] He remarks that he has caught albino specimens of the Saker Falcon, and has further observed albinos of the Shāhīn, “piebald crow,”[36] peacock, sparrow, sparrow-hawk, pin-tailed sand-grouse, chukor, hoopoe, English merlin, kākulī lark, and common crane. As regards the Kāfūrī, he states his opinion that it is the offspring of albino T̤arlāns that happen to have paired for two generations. He continues:—]

White Goshawk or Tīqūn-i kāfūrī.—The female of this variety of Tīqūn is noted for its large size, the male on the contrary for being extremely small. The head, neck, back, and breast are totally devoid of markings, the plumage being white as driven snow.[37] In the immature bird the eyes have only a slightly reddish tinge, but after the first moult their hue generally deepens and turns to a ruby-red.[38] The claws and beak, though frequently white, are more often a light grey, while the cere is greenish.

E’en such the noble thorough-bred Tīqūn;

May God in mercy grant us such a boon!

IV
FROM AN OLD PERSIAN PAINTING, INDIAN, PROBABLY OF THE MUG͟HAL PERIOD

I remember having once seen a “cast”[39] of this variety—male and female—in the possession of Fatḥ ʿAlī Shāh[40] (now a resident of Paradise), both of which were exceptionally fine performers in the field.

The people of Turkistan, who are highly skilled in the art of training goshawks, call this variety lāziqī.[41]

It is commonly believed by falconers and bird-catchers, that in the early spring, when the female goshawk is desirous of the attentions of a male, she utters loud and plaintive cries, which attract to her many species of birds. From these she selects a male of a species different from herself,[42] and the result of this union is a diversiform progeny. However, the kāfūrī or lāziqī variety is the offspring of two white parents.

The following circumstance lends some colouring of truth to this quaint belief:—

Some years ago a hawk of this species was brought from Russia and presented as a curiosity to the late Shāh, who, in turn, bestowed it on Ḥusayn ʿAlī Mīrzā,[43] Governor of the Province of Fārs. The Governor (now in the abode of the Blessed) forwarded it to me—the contemptible. It must have been a bird of four or five moults, when it came into the possession of this slave. After infinite pains I succeeded in taking with it one solitary chukor,[44] and that, too, a bird harried and worn out by another hawk. It had a very villainous and scurvy disposition. The plumage of this hawk, an unusually large female, was peculiar, in that its feathers were alternately snow-white and raven-black; the claws and beak were of the colour of mother-of-pearl, and the eyes were a reddish yellow. I feel confident her albino mother had mated with a raven, and that this spurious half-caste was the result of the union. There is some truth in the statements of the bird-catchers.

The above description is given, as it seems in some measure to support the stories of the bird-catchers. Sure and certain knowledge, however, rests with God.

V
FROM A PAINTING IN AN ANCIENT PERSIAN MS. WRITTEN IN INDIA

Goshawk (T̤arlān).—There are three varieties of T̤arlān, the dark, the light, and the tawny. The last two are common, but though tractable and easily reclaimed,[45] they are not good at large quarry. The dark variety that has a reddish tinge, is universally acknowledged to be the best, and I have myself taken with it common crane and great bustard.[46] The colouring should be very dark, with a tinge of red in it; though this variety may be sullen and self-willed, it is also hardy and keen, and, once thoroughly reclaimed, will be as docile and obedient as any falconer could desire.

Local Race of Goshawk (Qizil).—The third species, the Qizil,[47] breeds in Māzenderān,[48] and in many other parts of Persia, and a fair number are captured in nets, each Autumn, together with the T̤arlāns. Like the last-described species, this also contains three varieties, the dark, the light, and the tawny. The dark variety with the cheek-stripe[49] is the best, and the darker this marking—with a tinge of red in it—the better the bird. With a “passage-bird”[50] of this last variety, the author has himself taken common cranes, great bustards, and “ravine-deer”[51] fawns. The difference between the wild caught Qizil and the T̤arlān is in reality very small. The latter has a somewhat finer presence, a more noble disposition, and is rather faster in flight; also from its habit of mounting higher and thus commanding a more extensive view, it is better able to mark down or “put in”[52] its quarry. It is for these reasons only that the T̤arlān has a higher value than the Qizil.[53]

VI
PERSIAN CARPET DEPICTING THE COURT OF A SIKH MAHĀRĀJĀ

Eyess of Qizil.—The eyess[54] of the Qizil is more courageous than the “passage hawk,”[55] for it has the courage of inexperience. Reared with fostering care from its nestling days, what recks it of the frowns of Fortune? Untaught by Time, what knows it of the spoiling Eagle’s might? Though the eyess may at first excel the passage-hawk in courage, it is inferior to it in powers of flight. With increased knowledge, comes decreased courage. In a word, the nestling bears the same relation to the passage-hawk that the town-bred man does to the desert tentman.

Passage and Eyess Qizil COMPARED WITH T̤arlān.—Compared with the eyess, the passage Qizil is the better, especially that variety which has the reddish-black cheek-stripe.[56] Although inferior in powers of flight to the T̤arlān, it is better at taking large quarry, and in this quality, as well as in affection for its master, it improves moult by moult. The T̤arlān, on the contrary, with increasing age becomes a regular old soldier: it wastes the day excusing itself and shirking its duty and saying: “Oh! an eagle put me off that time;” or “Why! I didn’t see the partridge;” or else, “How clumsily you cast me! You hurt my back.” When the sun is near sinking, the cunning truant will suddenly rouse itself, and by a grand effort kill in the finest style. Well it knows that at that late hour, a full crop and no more work must needs be the reward of its single exertion. With hopes excited, its gulled master will rise early next day, and start off to make a big bag. Alas for the fair promise of last night!

Like yestere’en, to-day she fails to kill,

The truant bird, blaming her master’s skill.

The T̤arlān, however, brings luck to its owner. Besides it has a nature sweet, and docile, and loyal, and true. Hence of the T̤arlān it has been said:—

One day a Knight in splendour bright

His Hawk at quarry flew.

The Royal Bird, soon lost to sight,

Soared high into the blue,

When lo! mid-air she meets a mate,

Who says in tones imploring,

“Return no more to leash or cage

But stay in freedom soaring.”

The Hawk replied:—“True friends are rare;

I cannot break my oath;

To stop with thee I do not dare;

To lose man’s love, I’m loth.”

FOOTNOTES:

[30] Kulāh is the felt hat worn by Muslims.

[31] Jalqū; “Halsband, lit. neck-band; a contrivance of soft twisted silk, placed like a collar round the hawk’s neck and the end held in the hand; ...”—Harting. The object of the halsband is to steady the hawk and enable it to start collectedly when the falconer casts it at the quarry. In the East it is considered an indispensable portion of the equipment of every Sparrow-Hawk. It is also very frequently attached to the Goshawk, but is not, however, used with the Shikra. Zang “bell.”

[32] This anecdote is from the Shāh-Nāma.

[33] The T̤arlān and the Qizil are the same species; the latter is the local race that breeds in Persia.

[34] In Blandford’s Zoology of Eastern Persia the author states his opinion that the white goshawk is merely a variety of the common goshawk.

[35] Kāfūrī; adj. from kāfūr, “camphor,” an emblem of whiteness.

[36] Kulāg͟h-i pīsa “the pied crow”; qil-i quiruq T. “the pin-tailed sand-grouse”; hudhud “hoopoe”; kākulī, vide page 24, note 104, “a species of crested lark”; durnā “common crane.”

[37] Jerdon mentions a pure white goshawk as being found in New Holland, and states that Pallas notices a white goshawk from the extreme north-east part of Asia. Some Afghan falconers call albinos of any species taig͟hūn (tīqūn).

[38] In the adult shikra (wild caught), the iris is sometimes a deep red and sometimes a bright yellow. In “eyess” shikras, even after the moult, the iris is frequently almost colourless, the result perhaps of confinement in dark native houses.

[39] “Cast of hawks, i.e., two; not necessarily a pair.”—Harting.

[40] A contemporary of Napoleon.

[41] Lāziqī T., is said to be the name of a white flower: this is said to be the same as the gul-i rāziqī P., a kind of jasmine (the bel phul of the Hindus).

[42] A similar belief is current in parts of England with regard to the cuckoo, which, by some country people, is supposed to mate with the wryneck or “cuckoo’s mate.”

[43] This Ḥusayn ʿAlī Mīrzā was apparently the father of the author.

[44] The chukor (Caccabis chukor) of India and kabk of Persia, with its “joyous laughter,” enters largely into Oriental fable. On account of its cheery cry, it is a favourite cage-bird with both Hindus and Muslims. The male is also trained to fight. It is not an uncommon sight to see a man strolling along the road with a chukor, or a grey partridge, trotting behind him like a little fox terrier.

[45] “‘Reclaim,’ v. Fr. réclamer, to make a hawk tame, gentle, and familiar.”—Harting.

[46] Mīsh-murg͟h, lit. “sheep-bird” (Otis tarda). In Albin’s Natural History of Birds, it is stated that the goshawk used to be flown at geese and cranes as well as at partridges and pheasants. In Hume’s Rough Notes, there is an account by Mr. R. Thompson of hawking with the goshawk in the forests of Gurhwal and the Terai, the quarry killed being jungle fowl, kālij pheasants, hares, peacocks, ducks and teal. The peacock knows well how to use its formidable feet and legs as weapons of defence, and is a more dangerous quarry than even the common crane.

[47] Qizil T., means “red.”

[48] Māzenderān, a hilly province on the south coast of the Caspian.

[49] Madāmiʿ Pl. Ar. The author explains this to mean “having black under the eyes and under the chin.” Vide also [note 200], page 50.

[50] “‘Passage-Hawk,’ a wild hawk caught upon the passage or migration.”—Harting.

[51] Āhū; the Persian gazelle (Gazella subgutterosa). Unlike its congener, the Indian gazelle (the well-known chikāra or “ravine-deer” of the Panjab), the female of this species is hornless. A full-grown Indian gazelle weighs about thirty-six pounds, and stands a little over two feet high at the shoulder. “It [the goshawk] takes not only partridges and pheasants but also greater fowls as geese and cranes.”—Albin’s Nat. Hist. of Birds.

[52] “‘Put in,’ to drive the quarry into covert.”—Harting.

[53] A Persian falconer informed me that the Qizil is smaller, slower, and inferior in courage to the other races, and that it can readily be distinguished while in the immature plumage, but not after the first
moult. I was shown a moulted qizil and a moulted bāz side by side; except that the former was slightly smaller, there was no outward difference between the two.

[54] “‘Eyess;’ a nestling or young hawk taken from the ‘eyrie’ or nest; from the Fr. Niais....”—Harting.

[55] Vide page 8, note [50]. Chapter V of Bert’s treatise is headed: “Of the Eyas Hawke, [Goshawk] upon whom I can fasten no affection, for the multitude of her follies and faults.” The following quaint derivation is from the Boke of St. Albans:—“An hawke is called an Eyes of hir Eyghen, for an hauke that is broght up under a Bussard or a Puttocke: as mony be: hath Wateri Eghen. For Whan thay be disclosed and kepit in ferme tyll thay be full summyd. ye shall knawe theym by theyr Wateri Eyghen. And also hir looke Will not be so quycke as a Brawncheris is. and so be cause the best knawlege is by the Eygh, they be calde Eyeses.” “Now to speke of hawkys. first thay ben Egges. and afterwarde they bene disclosed hawkys....”

[56] Siyāh-yashmāg͟hlī T.; yashmāg͟hlī T., is a black handkerchief worn by women round the head. Perhaps in the text it means “black-headed.”

CHAPTER III
THE SPARROW-HAWK

Much that has been written of the T̤arlān Goshawk is also applicable to the Common Sparrow-hawk.[57] There are four varieties, the light, the dark, the khaki, and the tawny. Of these four, the khaki has the best heart. The eyes in this variety are small; and the smaller the markings on the breast, the more the hawk will be esteemed, for the more courageous it will prove: it is the opposite of the Qizil.

Into the azure vault of Heaven, my hawk I flew,

Whispering to it a prayer, “Oh Bird of Mine be true;

Come back to me!” But my foolish heart did not discern

That a hawk mid-air, well on the wing, could not return.

O Fate, whose face is veiled to me!

Return my hawk—propitious be!

With the Sparrow-hawk, I have myself taken teal, chukor, stone-plover,[58] black-bellied sand-grouse[59] and short-eared owl.[60] Considering its size, the Sparrow-hawk is the boldest as well as the most powerful of all the short-winged hawks used in falconry.[61] I have frequently seen sparrow-hawks (especially eyesses) “bate”[62] at hares, but I could never muster up courage to let one go, to see the result.

Young Passage Sparrow-hawk.—Should a very good young sparrow-hawk be brought to you about the time of year that the Sun first enters into Virgo,[63] which is about the time the Sparrow-hawks first arrive in the country, nurse her carefully, for she is well worth keeping. At this time she will be a mere nestling, scarcely in fact more than seven weeks old. Her bones will not be properly set and her whole appearance will be spare and weakly. Now, don’t be in a hurry to fly her, unless indeed you wish to spoil her. If you destine her for large quarry, such as chukor, seesee,[64] black-bellied sand-grouse, and the like, “man” her very carefully, and let her take no fright at dogs or water, etc. Next train her to come to the lure, or fist. When she will fly readily to the fist, kill a small chicken under her daily,[65] and gorge her on it,—day by day increasing the size of the chicken, till she will fly readily to it, and seize it in your hand, the moment that you present it held firmly by both its legs. Proud of the progress made by your pupil, you may feel inclined to release your grasp of the chicken’s legs, in order to allow her to kill it unaided; but on no account must this fatal inclination be yielded to.

Now, after the hawk has been called to, and gorged on, two or three chickens given in the hand, she must be entered to two or three flying pigeons; the pigeons, with shortened wings, being released before her, in such a manner that she may take them. Each time she takes the pigeon, kill it cautiously, and let her take her pleasure on it.

When she has taken a few pigeons in this manner, call her as before to a live fowl held by the legs, but this time call her to it from some distance. As soon as she comes and seizes it, which she ought to without hesitation, kill it, and gorge her on it.

As soon as her training reaches this point, she should be confined in a cupboard, some seven feet long by three and a half broad. The cupboard, which should first be thoroughly swept and cleaned, must be kept to such a pitch of darkness, that it will be impossible for its occupant to distinguish the day from the night. If much more light be admitted, the hawk, by bating against the door or wall, will probably do herself some irremediable injury. She should be fed every evening, three or four hours after dark, by the light of a lamp, being taken on the fist for the purpose, and allowed to eat her fill. Her principal food should be sparrows and young pigeons, but in any case she must have constant change of diet. When so gorged that she can eat no more, offer her water in a cup, flicking the water with the finger to attract her attention to it. If she drink, so much the better, let her drink her fill: but if she evince no inclination to drink, remove the water and replace her in her prison. This treatment must be continued for at least forty days.

After the expiration of forty days, reduce the quantity of her food for four or five nights, and carry her by lamp light; in fact treat her in every respect like a wild-caught hawk. Evening by evening, the amount of carriage must be increased, until she is thoroughly “manned,”[66] when she will be ready to obey her master’s every behest.

The above method has certain special advantages. During the rest in confinement, the hawk’s bones will become thoroughly hard and set;[67] and from the high feeding during that forty days, she will attain the growth and strength of a twelvemonth; and her toes will be long and thick; and even large quarry, such as chukor, pigeons, and black-bellied sand-grouse, will stand a poor chance of breaking away from her clutches.

It is of course understood that, if destined for large quarry, she must never have been flown at sparrows nor even given any small bagged bird whole, from the day you first get her till the present. She must be made to forget that there is such a thing as small quarry in existence, or that any bird is fit for food except partridge, and sand-grouse, or such large game.

Eyess Sparrow-hawk.—I will now instruct you in another method of training the Sparrow-hawk, by which, in the field, it will be no whit inferior to the goshawks of most falconers. In the early Spring, get some trusty fowler to mark down a tree, in which a pair of Sparrow-hawks are “timbering.”[68] A strict watch must be kept on the nest, and the first time the parent birds are observed carrying food to their young, the tree must be scaled, and all the nestlings, except the largest female, removed. The nest will contain from three to five nestlings. The whole attention of the parent birds will now be bestowed on the solitary occupant, which, by thriving apace, will fully repay the care lavished on it. The nestling must be inspected by the fowler almost daily, until the whole of the quill feathers of the tail and wings are out.[69] Then four or five days before it is ready to fly, he must “seel”[70] its eyes while it is still in the nest and remove it, substituting for it, one of the nestlings originally abducted. The nest will not then be forsaken: the parent birds will rear the restored substitute, and will year after year build in the same tree.

The nestling, its eyes “seeled,” must be conveyed carefully home, and its education conducted in precisely the same manner as already described. When taken up at the end of the forty days of confinement, your friends will probably delight you by mistaking her for a male goshawk,[71] so great will be her size. What a goshawk will do, she will do.

The author has also adopted the above plan with nestlings of the Shāhīn, the Saker and the Qizil Goshawk, with eminently satisfactory results. He humbly begs leave to add that the idea is an original one.

FOOTNOTES:

[57] Bāsha P.; qirg͟hī, qirqī, etc. T. (Accipiter nisus).

[58] Chāk͟hrūq, also called bachcha hubara, the common stone-plover (Œdicnemus crepitans).

[59] Pterocles arenarius. The common Persian name is siyāh sīna or “black breast.” The author, however, invariably gives it its Turki name bāqir-qara or bāg͟hir qara, a word having the same signification. The Pin-tailed Sand-grouse is called qil-i quiruq T.: it is the qat̤ā of the Arabs.

[60] Yāplāq, T.; vide under short-eared owl.

[61] The late Sir Henry Lumsden (who used to hawk “ravine deer” with charg͟hs in Hoti Mardan), told the translator in Scotland that he had frequently seen wild sparrow-hawks kill wood-pigeons, and that he had that very morning seen a sparrow-hawk knock over an old cock pheasant on the lawn, which is was of course unable to hold. Hume, in My Scrap Book (page 132), under the description of his “Dove Hawk” expresses a doubt whether the “true nisus” would kill a bird as large as a dove: vide note [72], page 15.

[62] T̤apīdan, “to bate.” “‘Bate, bating;’ fluttering or flying off the fist.... Literally to beat the air with the wings, from the French battre.”—Harting.

[63] i.e., about the middle of September.

[64] Tīhū or tayhū; the desert or sand-partridge, called in the Panjab sī-sī or sū-sū from its cry. It is not such a favourite cage-bird as the black partridge or the chukor. It is not used for fighting: both sexes are spurless. In Oudh the sparrow-hawk is flown at grey partridges without the assistance of dogs.

[65] The value of a fowl is about four pence.

[66] “‘Manning, manned’; making a hawk tame by accustoming her to man’s presence.”—Harting.

[67] Mag͟hz-i ustuk͟hwān-ash siyāh mī-shavad, lit. “the marrow of her bones becomes black.”

[68] “And we shall say that hawkys doon draw When they bere tymbering to their nestes.”—Boke of St. Albans. [“To timber,” in old English, is “to build a nest.”]

[69] Parhā-yi ḥalāl, lit. “lawful feathers.” There is a belief that until the quills of the tail and wings are produced a bird is not ‘lawful’ for food.

[70] “To seel,” is to sew up the eyes: a thread is passed through the centre of each lower eye-lid, near its edge; the two threads are then knotted together on the top of the head, being drawn so tight that the lower eye-lids cover and close the eyes. Wild birds so treated sit quite still and do not injure themselves.

CHAPTER IV
THE PĪQŪ[72] SPARROW-HAWK

The Pīqū (Shikra).—The next hawk to be described is the Pīqū. There are two varieties. The first, or tawny variety, has the markings on the breast large and distinct. The second, or dark variety, has a reddish tinge running through the darker colour of its plumage.

These hawks arrive in the country about the beginning of September, some twenty days before the advent of the Sparrow-hawks.

Inferiority of Eyess Pīqū.—Unlike the Sparrow-hawk, the eyess of the Pīqū is much inferior to the passage-hawk; the eyess, from its craven spirit, being with difficulty entered to quarry. For this reason it is little esteemed. The eyess of the Sparrow-hawk, on the contrary, surpasses the passage-hawk.

Of the two varieties, the tawny is the better, surpassing, as it does, the Sparrow-hawk in appearance, more especially so after the first or second moult.

The dark variety, however, is sulky and runaway.

Though slower on the wing than the Sparrow-hawk, the tawny variety can take with success any quarry that the former can. In fact, from a working point of view, there is little to choose between them. The Pīqū is, however, by far the hardier of the two, enduring with indifference the extremes of heat and cold. Flown in the hot weather from morning till night, it shows no signs of distress, but rather seems to get brisker and brisker after each successive flight: it is impervious to fatigue. It is certainly quite ten times hardier than the Sparrow-hawk.

In affection for its master, it also surpasses the Sparrow-hawk, but as before stated, it is slow on the wing, and to be flown with success, requires to be thrown skilfully.[73] If unskilfully thrown, the quarry will get a start, and the hawk will meet with nothing but disappointment. The Pīqū must take its quarry right off or not at all.

In appearance the Pīqū very nearly resembles the Sparrow-hawk, but its feet are stouter, its “arms”[74] more powerful, and its wings shorter: it has also a conspicuous dark line under the chin. The larger this chin-line, the better the bird.[75]

FOOTNOTES:

[71] Jurra-bāz. A “tiercel” goshawk: vide page 25, note [107].

[72] The Pīqū is merely the common Shikra of India (Astur badius—Blan.). In a wild state this hawk preys on lizards, small birds, rats, mice, locusts, and occasionally doves. I have once or twice seen it chase the common Indian ground squirrel round and round a tree, hovering in the air close to the tree and making sudden darts to the opposite side, the squirrel all the time keeping the trunk between it and its pursuer and chattering shrilly. I once caught a “haggard” shikra in a do-gaza, with a very large homing pigeon—a cock Antwerp—as a bait. The net had been set up for an eagle. Vide note [61], page 12.

[73] The Shikra, held in the right hand protected by a pad or glove, the breast lying in the palm of the hand held upwards, and the tail, legs, and points of the wings coming out between the fore-finger and thumb, is thrown at the quarry while the quarry is still on the ground, or else the moment it rises. The Sparrow-hawk being a bird of swift flight is carried on the fist in the usual manner, a “halsband” being used to steady it. It must be a very poor and badly trained Sparrow-hawk that requires to be thrown from the hand. The Sparrow-hawk, being a bird of nervous disposition, is hooded only when carried by rail, or on other necessary occasions: not so the Shikra.

[74] “‘Arms;’ the legs of a hawk from the thigh to the foot.”—Harting.

[75] The chin-stripe is not always present. The author describes its eyes as “Chashm-ash qarīb bi-zāq ast.” The meaning of bi-zāq I am unable to discover.

CHAPTER V
THE SHIKRA

The Shikra[76] is said to be of stouter and finer appearance than either the Pīqū or the Sparrow-hawk and to be trained in India to take the pied crow.[77] It is rarely found in Persia. I have never come across it. God alone knows the facts of the case.[78]

FOOTNOTES:

[76] The author, writing from hearsay, has imagined the Shikra (Astur badius) to be a separate species from the Pīqū. In India, shikras are flown, or rather cast, at partridges, quails, mainās, and common crows. Vide also note to scavenger vulture.

[77] Kulāg͟h-i ablaq; the Royston crow, the common crow of Persia, is a different species from the common crow of India. The Royston or Hooked Crow is, for a falcon, a far easier quarry than the rook.

[78] Muhammadans frequently qualify their statements by some such expression, the inference being that men are prone to err and that exact knowledge lies with God alone. It is related of the Prophet that once, on being asked how many legs his horse had, he dismounted, counted with care, and then said, “Four.” Had he made a positive statement from memory, the Almighty might have altered the number to two, or to three, and so convicted him of error.

CHAPTER VI
THE SERPENT EAGLE

We now come to the Serpent Eagle,[79] so well known to every fowler. Should one be desired as a pet, it can either be captured by any of the ordinary fowler’s devices, or else taken with a chark͟h trained to eagles.[80] It must be fed principally on snakes, as it will not thrive on any other food.

FOOTNOTES:

[79] Sanj. Perhaps the Common Serpent Eagle (Circaëtus gallicus). The author in two lines of imperfect description—omitted in the translation—also states that in size and appearance it so nearly resembles the buzzard (sār), vide p. 32, note [133], that even an experienced falconer might easily mistake the two. The author does not include this amongst the ʿUqāb or Eagles, vide Chapter XII.

[80] For this poaching flight, vide pages 113-114.

CHAPTER VII
THE EAGLE OWL

We now come to the owls, of which there are eight or nine species, the most magnificent of them all being the Great Eagle Owl.[81]

Great Eagle Owl.—Nestlings of this species are frequently taken by fowlers, reared by hand, and then trained[82] for the sport of “owling.” When first taken from the nest, they must be well and frequently fed, and be kept in as high condition as possible; for if at all neglected at this age, the immature feathers become “strangled” and fall out.

As soon as Autumn commences and the weather begins to cool, i.e., as soon as the birds of prey and other birds have commenced their in-migration from the hills and other summer-quarters, the nestling owl is taken up, fitted with jesses,[83] carried on the fist, sparely dieted, and “manned,” just like a young hawk in training. When thoroughly “manned,” a stick is procured about twenty inches long: to one end of this a circular piece of black horse-blanket, or felt, is securely fastened. To this again a twist of black goat-hair rope[84] is attached, so that by its means the owl’s meat may be tied on to the black felt.

The fowler, in the morning, places the stick, garnished with meat, about two paces from him on the ground. He then takes the owl on his fist and shows it the meat on the stick. The owl will leave the fowler’s fist and fly to the meat. It is allowed to eat a little only of the meat, being taken up and flown at this lure a second, and a third time. It is then permitted to make a light meal and is removed.

In the late afternoon the lesson of the morning is repeated, the distance from which the owl is flown being slightly increased.

The above training is continued daily, the distance being increased step by step, till the owl will fly a good long way to the garnished stick laid on the ground. When this stage of the owl’s education is reached, the stick is no longer laid down, but, felt-side upwards, is planted lightly in the ground, in such a manner that the moment the owl settles on the felt to feed, the stick collapses. If the stick is planted too firmly, it will not fall flat to the ground, the result being that the owl remains suspended half way. As soon as the owl will fly readily to the upright stick, from a distance of five- or six-hundred paces,[85] its education may be considered complete.

Now, if accidents are to be avoided, the owl, during the whole of its training, must have been fed on nothing but red meat, meat without the vestige of a feather. If fed on pigeons or fowls, or any kind of “feather,” it may learn the fatal vice of bird-killing, a vice that will be fully appreciated by the fowler the first time a fine falcon becomes entangled in his net; for seeing the falcon struggling in the net, that dog-begotten owl will abandon the lure, and fastening on to the captive, will by a single squeeze of its deadly feet deprive her of life. Before the fowler can arrive, the murder is done, and his regrets—of what avail are they?

In addition to the owl, the fowler must procure a fine silk net. The silk thread from which it is made should be woven of six or seven fibres and should be dyed to match the ground where the net will eventually be set up. When in position, the net should be invisible. In size it should be about ten feet long by sixteen to eighteen feet broad.[86] A very long fine silk cord of the same colour as the net is threaded through its top meshes, and the net (erected much in the same manner as an ordinary du-gaza[87] for catching sparrow-hawks), is supported in an upright position by two very light poles[88] as long as the breadth of the net, and these are placed under the cord, at fourteen to fifteen paces distance from the ends of the net. The ends of the cord are made fast to pegs driven into the ground at a good distance from the ends of the net. The poles must be so erected that, at any slight shock to the net, they will collapse suddenly.

The “luring-stick,” garnished with a shank of sheep or goat securely tied to the black felt, is now erected exactly in the centre of the net, and about five feet[89] from it. The net so arranged is in position for use.

The fowler now takes the owl on his fist, shows it the garnished “luring-stick,” and then turns about and walks off in the opposite direction for a distance of five- or six-hundred paces: he then halts, turns about again, and casting off the owl into the air, quickly conceals himself.

The owl, in accordance with its previous training, flies straight for the lure, and is soon closely mobbed by all the birds of the neighbourhood. Do not leave your ambush; watch. If you are near the hills, perhaps a goshawk, qizil or t̤arlān, or else a saker falcon will come down and join the crowd. The owl, however, having no other object but to reach its goal, ignores the clamouring presence of its pursuers and continues on its straight course. The first bird to buffet the owl, on its alighting on the lure, is a fast prisoner in the net.

Let us suppose a noble saker falcon has thus fallen a victim to your fowler toils. Leave your ambush, and, cautiously and gently, I adjure thee by God, go and secure thy prisoner, treating her with all honour and respect.

The eyes of a newly caught hawk should be “seeled” on the spot, and if a fine needle and fine thread (not silk) be used for the purpose, the falconer into whose hands the hawk eventually falls, will call down blessings, not curses, on the operator’s head.

Nestling of Eagle-Owl Preferred.—For the above sport, the nestling is preferred to the wild caught bird. Being ignorant and inexperienced, and consequently more courageous, it treats eagles and other unknown dangers, with contempt. The nestling has also greater staying power.[90] The hours it should be flown are from early morning till about eleven o’clock, and from three in the afternoon till within half an hour of sunset. A hundred flights in the day are not too much for a really good bird.[91]

Disadvantages of wild-caught Owl.—The wild-caught owl soon gets done up, and after a few flights gets sulky and flies off aimlessly and settles on the ground.

Arab Name for Eagle-Owl.—The Arabs call the Eagle-Owl Fahd^u ’l-Layl, or “Panther[92] of the Night.” What the Golden Eagle is to the day, the Eagle-Owl is to the night. Hares and foxes fall an easy prey to it.[93]

Riding Down Eagle-Owl.—Should you, by chance, when riding out in the open country, put up an Eagle-Owl, set your horse into a gallop and start in hot chase. If closely pressed, the owl will not rise more than thrice; after that it may be easily captured.[94]

Treatment of newly caught Eagle-Owl.—It is not at all necessary to “seel” the eyes of an owl captured in the above manner. It should at once be placed on the fist and “carried” like a short-winged hawk; if it declines to sit up, duck its head under water three or four times in rapid succession. This will soon bring it to its senses and send away its perversity: plunging its head in cold water extinguishes the fire of pride in its heart and makes it steady as a rock.[95]

FOOTNOTES:

[81] Shāh-būf.

[82] Rasānīdan, “to train.”

[83] Pācha-band. “Jesses, the short narrow straps of leather fastened round a hawk’s legs to hold her by.”—Harting. The jesses are never removed from the hawk’s legs. In the East the jesses are frequently made of woven silk or cotton, with small rings or “varvels” attached to their ends: with the short-winged hawks, the use of leather jesses is the exception. The “leash” is a long narrow thong (or in the East a silk or cotton cord) that is attached to the end of the “jesses” by means of a swivel, or otherwise, and is used for tying up a hawk to a perch or block. Vide also page 78, note [315].

[84] Qātima, a word used by the E. Turks and Kurds for a rope of goat hair. In India gut, or the sinews of cranes, are used for binding lures, etc.

[85] Qadam; a short pace of about twenty inches.

[86] Ẕiraʿ. “Three ẕiraʿ long, by five or six ẕiraʿ broad.” The Persian ẕiraʿ is variously stated to be a measure of forty, and forty-two inches in length.

[87] Du-gaza; a light, large-meshed net, six feet or more long, by four and a half feet or more broad, and suspended between two light bamboos or sticks, which are shod with iron spikes. This net is planted upright, twenty yards or more away from a resting hawk, while a live bird is pegged down in the centre of the net, a few feet from it, and on the side opposite to the hawk. A certain amount of spare net is gathered towards its centre and allowed to rest loose on the ground. The hawk makes straight for the fluttering bait, through the invisible net; the loose portion on the ground permits the net to “belly” like a sail, while the shock given causes the light uprights to collapse inwards, thus effectually enveloping the hawk.

[88] Presumably the length of these poles should be somewhat less than the breadth of the net.

[89] “One and a half ẕiraʿ.” The old English name for hawk-catching nets was “urines” or “uraynes.”

[90] Perhaps it can be kept in higher condition.

[91] It must not be supposed from this description that hawk-catching is by any means an easy business. In India, in the course of two or three weeks, the fowler may not catch more than three hawks worth keeping, and that, too, at the season the birds are migrating into the country.

[92] Apparently a slip on the author’s part. Fahd is properly the cheeta or hunting-leopard and not the panther. In Persian the former is called yūz and sometimes yūz-palang, while the latter is called palang only.

[93] In Seebohm’s British Birds, it is stated that the eagle owl preys on capercailzie and fawns, besides hares and other game.

[94] Partridges are caught in this manner by the Baluchis round Dera Ghazi Khan. Vide also Shaw’s High Tartary, Yarkand and Kashgar.

CHAPTER VIII
OTHER SPECIES OF OWLS

[Short-eared Owl; Long-eared Owl.—The author now imperfectly describes five or six species of owl, which the translator is unable with any certainty to identify. The first species mentioned by him is the Yāplāg͟h or Yāplāq, and this species he again divides into two sub-species or races, viz., the “Desert or Plain Yāplāq,” and the “Garden or Grove Yāplāq.” The colour of the latter is said to be somewhat darker than that of the former. The first species is probably the Short-eared Owl (Otus brachyotus); while the second is probably either the Common Long-eared Owl (Otus vulgaris), or the Tawny Wood-Owl. The author also states that the former species, once it has successfully shifted from the first stoop of the falcon and has begun to “tower,”[96] is an exceedingly difficult quarry, and that only a passage Shāhīn or Peregrine is equal to the flight, the Saker not being swift enough.[97] The latter species of owl, he adds, is a poor performer and unable to “ring up”[96] to any great distance without being overtaken and killed.

Indian Grass-Owl.—The Short-eared Owl is, however, an easier quarry than the Indian Grass-Owl (Strix candida), which in India is taken both with Sakers and Peregrines. If, however, the Saker is not in high condition (in much higher condition than it is usually kept by natives of India), both hawk and quarry will soon be lost to view, ringing up, on a calm day completely out of sight and almost perpendicularly into the sky. In this species the iris is dark; it is therefore presumed that neither it nor any nearly allied species can be included under the name yāplāq.

Indian falconers, however, in the Panjab, have only one name for both the Short-eared and the Grass-Owl.

Afghan falconers state that, in their country, the Short-eared Owl is a common quarry for the Saker, as well as for the Peregrine.

The author continues:]—

Bride of the Well.—The next species of owl is smaller than the Yāplāq, and is hornless. Its prevailing colour is a yellowish white, something like that of the Tīqūn Goshawk. This species is especially common in Baghdad and other sacred places.[98] It is known to the Arabs by the name of the “Bride of the Well.”[99] It preys principally on the pigeons of the “Sacred Precincts;”[100] for that cuckoldy pimp, lacking regard and consideration, has settled that the pigeons of the precincts[100] are its proper prey, so it hunts them in the night-watches. In the Spring the attendants pull out the young owls from their holes in the walls, or from the interiors of the domes, and slay them. This species is smaller than the Yāplāq.

Little Owl (Spotted owlet?).—[The author next mentions a small owl that he styles Bāya-qūsh or Chug͟hd. In the Panjab, the spotted owlet (Athene Brama) is known by the latter name.[101] The author says of this species:]—It frequents old ruins. A young shāhīn, intended for the flight of the stone-plover, should first be given two or three pigeons from the hand, and then flown at a wild chug͟hd or two. After that it may be entered to stone-plover. The chug͟hd is useful for no other purpose but this.

“Bird of Night-melody”[102] or “Bird of Testimony.”[103]—The next species we come to is the “Bird of Night-melody,”[102] better known under its popular name of “The Bird of Testimony.”[103] The male of this beautifully marked little owlet is scarcely larger than a lark.[104]

All the above species of owl are strictly nocturnal in their habits.

Too whit, too whoo! The helpless owl,

In evening shades alone can prowl;

To find its food, to chase its prey,

’Tis helpless quite in light of day.

FOOTNOTES:

[95] The following description of owling is taken from Blaine’s Encyclopedia of Rural Sports. It is stated there that any owl may be used, but that the great horned owl is the usual bait:—“The owl, confined between two wooden stands or rests, is taught to fly from one rest to the other without touching the ground. Between the rests, a cord is stretched, on which a ring plays, and to which another slacker cord is attached by one end, the other being fastened to the jesses on the legs of the owl, whose movements are thus confined to flying from one block or rest to the other. To this change of posture he is accustomed by presenting him with food on the opposite side to that on which he may happen to be resting, until he becomes completely habituated to this method of exercising himself. A saloon is now formed in the midst of a copse, of boughs, in the centre of which a log or stand rests, and without the saloon a similar one is placed about a hundred paces distant, the intermediate space on which the owl is placed being cleared away. It is necessary that the top and sides of this saloon should be covered with boughs in such a manner that although the outside is distinctly seen there is no opening that will admit any bird to enter with unfolded wings. Nets are placed against the top and sides, leaving open that part only opposite to the resting place of the owl. The fowler, now concealing himself, keeps watch, and when he observes the owl lower his head and turn it on one side, he becomes certain that some bird of prey is in the air. The hawk, now marking the owl for his own, follows him into his retreat; when, becoming hampered in the meshes of the net, he is easily secured.” Vide also History of Fowling, by the Rev. H. A. Macpherson: Edinburgh: David Douglas, 1896.

[96] “‘Tower;’ ‘ring up;’ to rise spirally to a height.”—Harting.

[97] The Indian grass-owl, Strix candida, though a much more difficult quarry than the short-eared owl, can be successfully flown by a trained saker, provided the latter is in high condition: a saker is not fit for this flight unless she weighs at least 2 lbs. 4 oz., better 2 lbs. 6 oz.

[98] Such as Kāz̤imayn, Najaf, Karbalā, etc.

[99] ʿArūs-i chāh; ʿarūs is the Arabic for “bride,” but chāh, “well,” is Persian.

[100] Ḥarām: the sacred precincts round both Mecca and Medina are known as ḥarām, and certain acts such as slaying game are forbidden within the boundaries. Ḥarām is also a name for the women’s apartments. The author by ḥarām probably means the sacred precincts of Mecca, but from the context his meaning is not clear.

[101] In the Derajat this owlet, called there chhapākī, is a quarry for the shikra, and also for the common and the red-headed merlin. Its blood is supposed to be a cure for prickly heat, hence its local name. (Chhapākī is a corruption of shapākī, “prickly heat”.) In some parts of India it is used as a decoy for small birds.

[102] Murg͟h-i shab-āhang.

[103] Murg͟h-i Ḥaqq. Ḥaqq means the “Truth” or “God.” This little owl, which is probably the Persian owlet (Athene Persica), is reverenced by Muhammadans: it clings to walls and cries “Ḥaqq, Ḥaqq,” after the manner of the dervishes.

[104] Kākulī. Elsewhere the author states that the Arabs call this lark quṃburah, which is an Arab name for the Crested Lark (Alauda cristata).

CHAPTER IX
THE HARRIERS

Harriers.—[The author next proceeds to describe what appear to be two species of harriers. He says:]—

We now come to the Bayl-bāqilī, called by the Kurds, Dasht-māla,[105] and by the Arabs, Abū-ḥikb. There are two species, one yellow-eyed, and one dark-eyed.[106]

Yellow-eyed Species.—In the yellow-eyed species, the plumage of the young bird is henna-coloured [chestnut brown], but after its first moult, some white feathers make their appearance. After the second or third moult, the plumage is very like that of the Tīqūn Goshawk, the back turning a bluish grey and the breast becoming white. The female is about the size of a small Qizil “tiercel.”[107] Only a falconer could distinguish the adult female from a Tīqūn tiercel. The “stalke” of this species is long and slender.

Dark-eyed Species.—In the dark-eyed species, there is no material difference between the plumage of the young and the adult bird. In the latter, however, the markings on the breast are larger. The general colouring of the dark-eyed species is darker than that of the yellow-eyed.

In habits, both species are similar; they haunt open plains, preying on mice and sparrows, and occasionally on quails. They are mean-spirited, ignoble birds, with poor and weakly frames.

Wager with the Shāh.—When in attendance on the Shāh (may our souls be sacrificed for him!) I once made a bet with some fellow sportsmen that I would catch a harrier[108] and train it to take chukor. I made no idle boast. Praise be to God, I won my bet and proved myself a man of my word, for I trained it and took a chukor with it. The puissant King of Kings, who has surpassed in renown even Jamshed and Cyrus, regarded me with extreme condescension, and in just appreciation of my skill bestowed on me lavish commendation and a rich robe of honour.

On a second occasion, in Baghdad, I laid a wager of a Nejd mare with some sportsmen of that city, that within a space of fifty days I would “reclaim”[109] one of these hawks and successfully fly it at wild quarry. I flew it in the presence of my friends, and took with it one black partridge,[110] one quail, and one rail.[111]

As previously stated, it is quite possible to train these hawks, as indeed it is possible to train many other useless birds of prey: even—

The Bird whose Soul Delights the night

With care and trouble you can train,

To use its senses, use its sight,

In flying quarry on the plain.

The harrier is an ill-tempered bird with no great powers of flight. To train it is a matter of extreme difficulty, and the result by no means repays the labour. However, give the devil his due: it is very long-winded.

FOOTNOTES:

[105] Dasht-māla may be translated “desert-quarterer.” In the Panjab this is the name of the Pale Harrier (Circus Swainsonii) and probably also of Montague’s Harrier (Circus cineraceus).

[106] In the young of the Marsh Harrier, the iris is hazel. The iris of the female of Montague’s Harrier is also said to be hazel.

[107] “‘Tiercel, Tercel, Tassel’ (Shakespeare) and ‘Tarsell’ (Bert), the male of any species of hawk, the female being termed a falcon. The tiercel is said by some to be so called from being about one-third smaller in size than the falcon; by others it is derived from the old belief that each nest contained three young birds, of which two were females and the third and smallest a male. Note the familiar line in Romeo and Juliet: ‘Oh! for a falconer’s voice to lure this tassel gentle back again.’”—Harting.

[108] It is not clear which of the two species the author trained, but apparently the “black-eyed.”

[109] “Reclaim;” Fr. réclamer, to make a hawk tame, gentle and familiar.—Harting.

[110] Durrāj; the Common Francolin (F. vulgaris). It is a favourite cage-bird in India, especially with the Muhammadans, who liken its call to the words Subhān Teri Qudrat “Oh Lord! Thy Power” (i.e., who can fathom it?). The practical Hindus say its call is, Chha ser kī kacharī, “Twelve pounds of kacharī.”

[111] Yalva is a name incorrectly applied to several species of bird with long beaks, as the woodcock and snipe, etc. I am told that in Teheran it is applied to a rail.

CHAPTER X
THE LAMMERGEYER OR BEARDED VULTURE

[The description of the Bearded Vulture[112] as given by the author is sufficiently accurate for identification. He, however, adorns it with “two horns or ears like those of the horned owls.” He then continues:]—

The Lammergeyer is noted for its wondrous powers of flight. It soars aloft, bearing with ease a bone as large as the bleached thigh-bone of a donkey. This it drops on a rock, and then descends to eat the shattered fragments.[113] The Poet has said of it:—

“The Humā o’er other birds has flown

Because its food is only bone.”[114]

Popular Superstition.—It is a popular superstition that any one wilfully slaying a Lammergeyer will meet his death within forty days. Once, when out hawking, I saw one of these fateful birds seated on a stone a short distance from me. With me was a servant, a sturdy villain fearing nothing. Gun in hand he approached the Lammergeyer, bent on slaughter. Do all I could, I failed to dissuade him. I told him the popular superstition, but he laughed and said, “Oh! that’s an old woman’s story.” Heedless of my advice he shot the Lammergeyer, and died himself on the fortieth day. This is a fact: I myself was an eye-witness. Was his death a mere coincidence, or is there truth in the vulgar belief? God knows.

Taking a Lammergeyer with a Chark͟h.—I was once hawking in Sulaymānīya Shahrzūr[115] and saw what I took to be an eagle,[116] seated on a stone some little way off. I had with me a very fine chark͟h[117] trained to eagles.[118] To unhood and cast it off was the work of a moment, and it was not till I had actually secured the quarry, that I discovered it was no eagle but a Lammergeyer. I recollected the fate of my servant, and hastily released it. [By a play on the words humā and humāyūn, the author here pays the Shāh a flowery and far-fetched compliment, difficult to render in English. He pretends that the popular belief mentioned in the first note on the previous page was certainly fulfilled in his case, since the King of Kings had always distinguished him by his especial friendship and bounty, and thus raised him to the dignity of ordinary kingship. He adds:]—

Through the lucky shadow of the Humā’s wing

Am I thus highly honoured by the King.

Honoured of him, Lord of my fate I stand,

And rich as Korah, through his bounteous hand.

FOOTNOTES:

[112] Humā; the Lammergeyer, Bearded Vulture, or Ossifrage. Translators, imagining the Humā to be a fabulous creature, have identified it with the Phœnix. It was a popular Persian superstition that the shadow of a Humā falling on a person’s head predicted his rise to sovereignty. The adjective (and proper name) humāyūn, signifying “august,” “fortunate,” and “royal,” is derived from this bird. In the Panjab, the Lammergeyer, common as it is, seems to have no special native name.

[113] It is well-known that the Lammergeyer does not confine itself to dry bones. I once saw one shot in the Tochi valley over a dead fowl laid out as a bait. When shot it was carrying off the fowl in its beak and not in its feet. The most contradictory statements exist regarding its habits. As it sweeps round the hill side, the fowls in the compounds show no alarm and will let it pass within a very few yards of them. At Kingri, in Baluchistan, I saw one stoop at a flock of chukor and sent a sowar to the spot to see what had happened: the man returned with a chukor, unbroken and still warm. Some years ago at Sheikh-budin, the hill station near Dera Ismail Khan, I saw one stoop repeatedly at a mārk͟hor kid, on a narrow ledge on the cliff-face below me. At each stoop the plucky mother lowered her horns to the “charge,” and effectually repulsed the attacks of the assailant. Whether the Lammergeyer was really trying to brush the kid off the cliff, with intent to feed on its mangled remains, or whether it was merely animated by that spirit of mischief that enters into birds as well as beasts, I cannot say. The Pathan shikārīs with me stated that they knew from experience that the former was the case. A shot Lammergeyer shown to a tame monkey will drive it into a paroxysm of terror. Can it be that the latter recognizes in it a natural enemy, or does it mistake it for an eagle?

[114] Saʿdī: Gulistan, Chap. I, St. 3.

[115] In Kurdistān, and a little over a hundred miles south of Lake Urūmiah.

[116] ʿUqāb. The author uses this word as a generic term. By falconers of certain parts of the Panjab the name is specially applied to the Tawny Eagle.

[117] The author applies the name chark͟h only to nestlings of the Saker Falcon: passage falcons he calls bālābān. In the Panjab, and in Kabul, the species is termed respectively charg͟h and chark͟h, the word bālābān being unknown except to a travelled few.

[118] Qara-qūsh. Any eagle, but specially the golden eagle. For a description of this “flight” see pages 113-114.

CHAPTER XI
THE OSPREY[119]

[The author gives only a very brief description of the Osprey and its habits, mentioning the peculiar structure of its feet, and its habit of hovering over water. He also mentions that like the Shikra Sparrow-hawk (Pīg͟hū), and the Sangak, the iris is sometimes dark and sometimes yellow.[120] He adds:]—

I once took one alive with a chark͟h and kept it in confinement for some little time. It could not be induced to eat meat, refusing all food except fish. It is with reference to the osprey that the poet has said:—

“Thro’ the mercy of God and His tender care

The sea yields her fish to the fowl of the air.”

FOOTNOTES:

[119] Damirdizināq T. Another name is damir-qaynāg͟h T., from damir T. “iron” and qaynāg͟h T. “claws” (nāk͟hūn P.). The author does not include this amongst the ʿUqāb or Eagles. According to F. O. Morris, the osprey in olden times was occasionally trained for falconry.

[120] In the only living specimen examined by me, the iris was light brown, possibly a mark of nonage. In several standard works consulted, the iris is stated to be yellow.

Part II
THE DARK-EYED BIRDS OF PREY

CHAPTER XII
THE EAGLES[121] AND BUZZARDS[122]

[The author commences this chapter with the statement that it is his intention to describe those species of the black-eyed birds of prey that have at different times come into his possession, or that have been trained by him “according to their several capabilities.” His descriptions of the eagles are too vague for identification. All the eagles, he says, are migratory, with the exception of the ʿUqāb-i māh-dum or “Moon-tailed eagle,”[123] which he describes as follows:]—

ʿUqāb-i māh-dum, “The Moon-tailed Eagle.”—The whole of the tail of this eagle is white, with the exception of the end, which is black. The plumage of the breast, back, and head, is uniformly dark, without markings of any description. Its powers of fasting are extraordinary: it can endure seven or eight days without food and yet be not one whit the worse. Migration, too, is not a necessity for it. Even in the depth of Winter I have observed it high up in the snows. It seldom descends into the plains. The fierce rays of the sun and the bitter blasts of the snows are all one to its proud, enduring nature. I have observed it in the hills, preying on partridges, hares, and “lambs.”[124] It is the most daring and powerful of all the eagles.

ʿUqāb-i kūchigān [White-tailed Sea Eagle?].—The next species is the ʿUqāb-i kūchigān. In this species the whole of the tail (which is rather short) is white. The wings are long, and the flight is exceedingly swift. The plumage of the back and breast is dark. The beak, which is large and powerful as a vulture’s, is of the colour of amber. This eagle always hunts and feeds in couples, preying chiefly on water-fowl; hence it is seldom found far from water.

ʿUqāb-i ā,īna-lī [Imperial Eagle?].—In this eagle, which is smaller than either of the preceding, the back, breast, claws and beak are all uniformly dark; the colouring of the head is a dark reddish brown. Fowlers have named it Ā,īna-lī[125] from the fact of its having a few white feathers in its back.

Karlak.—This eagle equals the first-named species, i.e., the Māh-dum, in size. The beak and claws are black and extraordinarily powerful. The plumage is generally brown, and covered with markings. The head and back are, however, one uniform colour. In habits it resembles all the eagles.

Black Eagle.—Another species is black without markings, but the colour of the head is slightly different from that of the body. It is not a very noble species.

ʿUqāb-i zard (“Yellow Eagle.”)—Description. The plumage of the back is very dark, with a tinge of yellow in it, while that of the breast is tawny (yellow), and marked with longitudinal black drops. The head and neck are very handsome, and somewhat like a goshawk’s. This eagle, in the immature plumage, is called the ʿUqāb-i sīna-bāzī.

Once, when in attendance on the Shāh, I trained a single specimen of this species, and took a certain amount of quarry with it.

Būq-k͟hura; The “Frog-eater” [Spotted Eagle?].—Another species of eagle is the ʿUqāb-i qurbāqa-chī[126] (“Frog-eater”), called by the people of Kurdistan Sulemāniya, Būq-k͟hura.[126] The plumage of the head, neck, back, and breast is blackish yellow. This eagle frequents marshes and reed beds, preying on wounded or dead water-fowl. Failing these, it contents itself with frogs, dead fish, or other stranded material. It is from this habit of eating frogs that it has earned its names of “Frog-eagle” and “Frog-eater.”

Dūbarār [A Hawk-Eagle?].—In habits the Dūbarār resembles the eagles, but not in size, the male being scarcely larger than a female goshawk.[127] This species always hunts in couples and is very daring and bold by nature. In the immature bird, the plumage of the back is a yellowish black, while that of the breast is a dark red without spot or marking. After the moult, the plumage of the breast assumes a deeper and brighter hue. The “pendant”[128] feathers of the thigh hang down to the tarsus.

When in ʿArabistān,[129] I once took one with a chark͟h I had trained to eagles. I succeeded in training it in the space of about forty days and flew it successfully at black partridge, parah malā,[130] hare, and common heron.[131] A friend of mine then took it from me.

Large numbers of these eagles breed in the vicinity of Hamadān.[132] I have trained nestlings, but never with success: they are poor performers on the wing. The wild-caught bird is superior in every way. Still I found this species swifter and more tractable than any other kind of eagle.

The Sār (or Buzzard).—Another kind of eagle is the buzzard,[133] of which there are two common species. In the first the general colouring of the plumage is very dark without spot or marking: the feet and cere are a deep orange yellow. The plumage of the second is tawny. Both species are ill-conditioned and villainous by nature. Their prey is rats, mice, frogs, lizards, and wounded or sickly birds. When they dare, they rob their more weakly neighbours. They are too mean-spirited for the purposes of falconry.

FOOTNOTES:

[121] ʿUqāb Ar., or qara-qush T. The latter word properly means “black bird of prey,” and is a term specially applied to the Golden Eagle.

[122] Sār, vide note [133], page 32.

[123] ʿUqāb-i māh-dum, “moon-tailed eagle.” Can this be Pallas’s sea eagle? The author does not mention that it is found in the vicinity of water.

[124] Barra; properly a lamb. The author elsewhere uses this word for the fawn of the “ravine-deer.”

[125] ʿUqāb-i ā,īna-lī. Ā,īna means “mirror.”

[126] ʿUqāb-i qurbāqa-chī; būq-k͟hura. Qurbāqa and bāqa are both Turki names for a frog. Būq T. is “ordure,” and figuratively anything filthy. The Spotted Eagle (Aquila nævia) feeds largely on frogs.

[127] The length of the female goshawk is said to be 22 to 26 inches: of the male 18 to 21 inches. There is in Persia a species of small eagle or hawk-eagle that always hunts in pairs and that is known to Persians by the name of Du-Barādarān or “The Two Brothers.” The Dūbarār of the author is perhaps a corruption of Du-Barādarān. In the Ḥāyat^u ’l-Ḥaywān, the Arab name of the latter is said to be Zumaj, a word that occurs in old Arabic and Persian MSS. on falconry.

[128] Parhā-yi rān-ash tā pācha rīk͟hta. Possibly by this expression the author means that the whole of the tarsus is feathered. “‘Pendant Feathers,’ those behind the thighs of a hawk.”—Harting.

[129] ʿArabistān or K͟huzistān: its capital Shuster is about 130 miles north of the head of the Persian Gulf.

[130] Parah malā (?); possibly for Parlā T., which is said to be the name of a “black water-bird with a white beak.” The coot?

[131] Ḥaqar: variously spelt in old Persian MSS. on falconry awqār, aqār and ʿuqār; latter correct.

[132] Hamadān: about 100 miles North-East of Kirmānshāh.

[133] Sār (for sā?): Apparently two species of large buzzard are so-called by the author. This word must not be confused with sār the common Persian word for starling. In Dr. Scully’s list of the Turkish names of birds, sā is said to be the name applied to Buzzards, Harriers, and Kites.

CHAPTER XIII
KITES AND HARRIERS

Kites [and Harriers].—There are three common species of kites.[134] In the first, the two centre tail-feathers, called by the Arabs ʿamūd,[135] and by Persian and Turkish[136] falconers qāpāq,[137] are shorter than the rest, the outer feathers being longer. The general colouring of the plumage is a dirty brown with dark coloured drops on the breast. The feet are small and the tarsi[138] short.

2nd Species [Marsh Harrier?].—The second species haunts marshes and reedy pools in quest of frogs and rats. In this species the tarsus is long[139] and unfeathered, and the feet are small, ill-looking, and black. There is also a certain amount of white on the head.

3rd Species.—In the third species the general colouring of the plumage—with the exception of the head, which is reddish—is very dark. In habits it resembles the two preceding.

All three species are cowardly and mean-spirited. A good T̤arlān, trained to large quarry, will generally take them.[140]

Should the fork-tailed kite[141] see a sparrow-hawk or merlin with a bird in its feet, it will fuss round it, doing its utmost to steal it from the lucky possessor. If unsuccessful, it returns to its quest of mice and garbage.

These above-described species are related to the eagles. Under this head, too, I have even included the Carrion Vulture[142] and the Scavenger Vulture.[143]

FOOTNOTES:

[134] Chīlāq T. The kite is rare in Persia. It is, however, fairly common near Bushire.

[135] ʿAmūd Ar., “a prop, a pillar.”

[136] Turk. This word properly includes Turks, Tartars, and all who claim their descent from Turk the son of Japhet. A large proportion of the population of Persia is Turkish.

[137] Qāpāq, the “deck-feathers” of old English falconers. According to the Boke of St. Albans the centre or uppermost tail-feather was called the beme feder of the tayle, the flight-feathers being called the beme federes of the wyng.

[138] Sāq, properly the shin or shank of a man, animal, or bird. Elsewhere the author, with one other exception, uses the word qalam, “a pen, etc.,” for “tarsus.”

[139] The Kites have short tarsi, the Harriers, long. In the adult Harriers the iris is yellow, but in the immature birds, of several species at any rate, the iris is brown. The iris of the common Pariah Kite (Milvus govinda) is brown, while that of the “Common Kite” of England (M. regalis) is said to be yellow.

CHAPTER XIV
THE VULTURES

Vulture.—[The author now briefly describes a species of bare-necked vulture that he calls Dāl, apparently the only species of true vulture known to him. The description contains nothing of interest. He continues:]—

Scavenger or Egyptian Vulture.—Before the first moult the plumage of the Scavenger Vulture is dark, with a few small light-coloured spots on the back and breast. The head is nude and yellow. After the first moult, a certain number of white feathers make their appearance. After the second, the bird becomes quite white, with the exception of the ends of the flight-feathers, which remain black.

The gut[144] of this vulture, which is at the end of the sternum,[145] applied as a poultice, fresh and warm, for three consecutive days, is a certain cure for scabbed eyes that water, and from which the lashes have dropped off, or for fistulous sores that will yield to no ointment. The poultices should not be removed for twelve hours: it will then be noticed that numerous minute worms have been drawn by them from the wound. At the third application, if it please God, a cure will be effected. The author can testify to the efficacy of this remedy.

Use as a “train.”—If it is intended to train a chark͟h to take eagles, it should first be given the necessary “trains” by hand, and then entered to wild quarry by being flown a few times at young scavenger vultures in the dark immature plumage. As they are slow on the wing and show no fight,[146] the young chark͟h can take them with ease.

Though purely carrion feeders, the Vultures (as also the Raven described in the next chapter) are generally included amongst the Rapacious Birds: these huge birds, with beaks powerful enough to tear open the skin of a dead camel or ass, are unable to catch and kill even a helpless partridge.

FOOTNOTES:

[140] Haggard Sakers will generally fly at harriers, refusing to give up the chase and so getting lost. A haggard peregrine I had killed a harrier.

[141] Chīlāq-i qāpāq-i kūtāh.

[142] Dāl; elsewhere dāl-i murdār-k͟hur.

[143] Kachal charkas; the Egyptian Vulture: kachal means “scald-headed;” charkas is corrupted form of karkas, a common term for a vulture. The Egyptian vulture feeds largely on human ordure, a habit that can be traced in the popular name given to it by soldiers in India.

[144] K͟hazīna, k͟hazāna, “the gut.” This word does not mean the “crop.”

[145] ʿAz̤m-i zawraqī, lit. “boat-bone.”

CHAPTER XV
THE RAVEN

Raven.—The Raven,[147] though a carrion feeder, has just claims to be considered a Bird of Prey. I recollect once seeing a raven in the jungle seize a wild chukor; I eventually succeeded in releasing the bird from its clutches.

It is a peculiarity of the Raven that if it is deprived of sight by having its eyeballs pierced with a needle, it may, by confinement in darkness for the space of twenty-four hours, be completely restored to sight.

In ʿArabistān it is caught in traps and trained for fowling in the same manner that the Kestril[148] is trained in the Dashtistān[149] of Fārs, and the eagle-owl in Kirmānshāh[150] and elsewhere.

FOOTNOTES:

[146] Some thirty odd years ago the shikra used to be trained in the Kapurthala State to take the Egyptian Vulture. The young shikra was entered by being fed on a live vulture with seeled eyes, meat being tied on the back or head. The Egyptian Vulture is slow in taking flight, and when on the ground will let a man approach to within a few feet of it. The falconer, shikra in hand, has only to walk up to within a few feet of the unsuspecting vulture while it is resting on the ground, throw the shikra, and secure the quarry before it has even got so far as to spread its wings for flight. It is probably this “flight” that is referred to by old travellers who state that the shikra is flown at eagles. The Egyptian Vulture is also a quarry easily taken by a trained lynx. The lynx simply bounds quietly and quickly up to it, and springs as the vulture prepares to spread its wings. Partridges and such quarry are, however, scientifically stalked by it.

[147] Kulāg͟h-i siyāh-i quzqūn. I once saw a pair of ravens harassing a wild hare by pulling tufts of hair and skin out of it. Had I not interfered they would have killed it. Wild ravens in India will chase house-pigeons and occasionally enter the dovecot and kill them.

CHAPTER XVI
THE SHUNQĀR OR JERFALCON

Shunqār or Jerfalcon.—The Jerfalcon[151] is a species known to me only by description. During the whole of my sporting career, I have neither come across it myself, nor known a falconer to whom it was more than a name.

Specimen brought from Russia.—In the year of the Flight 1284[152] a strange falcon which I take to be a Shunqār was bought in Russia for a great price, and presented as a curiosity to His Lofty and Imperial Highness, the Shāh of Shāhs, the Shadow of God. Out of the plenitude of his bounty and the immensity of his condescension, His Most Noble and Exalted Majesty delivered it into the humble keeping of his servant [i.e., the author], decreeing that it should be trained to the flight of the Common Crane. The Royal Gift was accepted by this slave, with due tokens of humility: he kissed the falcon’s jesses and then placed it on his obedient head:—

I stood before the King as might a slave;

The Royal hand to me the falcon gave.

I placed it on my head in fashion meet

When I’d imprinted kisses on its feet.

Scanning the bird with a falconer’s eye, I saw that three flight-feathers of each wing were old and unshed. It was evident it had been taken up while still in the moult, so I had it replaced in the mew[153] and fed on fresh birds, with frequent changes of diet. Three months later it was taken up clean moulted, not a single old feather remaining.

As it may interest falconers, I append a description of this particular falcon.

Description.—In size it was about half as large again as a fine female Saker Falcon.[154] The plumage of the back and head was a brown ash colour, and each feather of the back and tail was marked with two tiny white spots. From the back of the neck to the rump, the plumage was ash-coloured, and covered with small yellowish-white spots. The breast was white, each breast feather being tipped with one small black spot and margined with black marks interlacing each other like the links of a chain. The tarsi[155] were robust and short; the feet small in proportion to its size, but stout and powerful; the claws and beak black; the iris dark, and the thighs[156] as thick as those of a male eagle.[157] The wing in length was something betwixt that of the long-winged and short-winged hawks, longer than that of a qizil or t̤arlān, and shorter than that of a shāhīn or a saker. The tail was broad and full of spots and markings. Like the Qara-qūsh-i ā,īna-lī,[158] it had a few stiff white feathers in the back, whether a mark of the species or merely a sign of old age, I am unable to say. (White feathers do occasionally make their appearance in aged sakers.) In weight it equalled nearly three sakers.[159] From my experience of hawks I should say that, when it reached me, it was in its tenth or twelfth moult. What its immature plumage may have been like, I cannot even guess.

Teaching the Falcon to Know its Name.—After removing this falcon from the mew,[160] I commenced her training with the utmost care. I named her “Shunqār.” By feeding her through the hood, calling her by name the while, she quickly learnt to recognize her name and associate it with a good meal.[161]

When she had somewhat abated her high condition and had begun to show a proper inclination for food, I attached a strong “creance”[162] to her jesses and carried her out into the field to lure her to a lure of crane’s wings. Unhooded by my falconer she started with eagerness, but had hardly flown a few feet before she subsided to the ground and attempted to finish the distance on foot. I examined her carefully. Her feathers were perfect, and she appeared sound in wind and limb. What could be the cause of her extraordinary behaviour? Puzzled and perplexed, I buried my head in the collar of reflection, determined to unravel the tangled skein of the difficulty. Still, ransack my brains as I might, the clue to the mystery eluded me. I then screwed up my courage, and putting my trust in God, removed the “creance” from her feet, and called her again. The result was much as before. I bit the finger of astonishment, and by reason of the falcon’s great infirmity became plunged in the abyss of despondency. Burying my head in the collar of reflection my thoughts drifted to those animal-gardens in Europe, where people buy strange beasts and birds for ridiculous prices, and after turning them into a public show for a few years, tire of them and put them up to public auction. It then dawned on me that my falcon must have come from one of those very gardens, and that, like a long-caged parrot, which, wild defied the swiftness of the Sparrow-Hawk,[163] can now flutter no higher than its own perch, it too from long imprisonment had grown stiff-jointed and wing-tied.

Daily Exercise.—That the falcon might recover her lost powers of flight, I set about exercising her daily. Morning and evening I used to bear her to the top of a high mound[164] and cast her off, giving her five flights at each exercise. On the sixteenth day, instead of, as usual, merely flying down to the level, she went off some distance and settled on a second mound. I decided this was sufficient and commenced calling her to the lure, luring her at first from high ground to a lower level.

“Trains.”—When her powers of flight were fully recovered I gave her a certain number of “trains,” and gradually succeeded in thoroughly entering her to common crane. At last one joyous day, on the auspicious occasion of the Royal return from a pilgrimage to Qum,[165] I unhooded her at a common crane near the caravan stage of Pul-i Dallāk,[166] and in the Imperial presence of the Shāh—let our souls be sacrificed for him! Right nobly the falcon acquitted herself, “towering” up into the clouds, and striking a huge crane down to the dust of the earth.

And on the spot Kāshānī’s spirit fled,

You might have said he ne’er was else than dead.

Disposition of the “Shunqār.”—Judging from my small experience, I should say that the Shunqār Falcon has naturally a docile and fearless disposition. At the moment I write (i.e., in the year of the Flight, 1285),[167] the bird I have described has been in my possession just two years. During this period she has twice moulted. This year, I rejoice to say, she was “full summed”[168] quite three months earlier than last.

Suffers from Heat.—Though kept on a damp bed of pebbles and sand, in the Bāg͟h-i Raz-kanda, in the cool region of Shimrānāt,[169] she yet feels the heat greatly, so that even in this cool climate of Shimrān she has to be well supplied with ice and snow, both of which she swallows freely.

Haggard Tiercel.—This year—it being the Spring of A.H. 1286—owing to the high fortune of His Majesty (sacrificed be our souls for him!), and the kindly aid of Heaven, the royal trappers have snared a “tiercel” of this species. It was caught in the district of K͟hār and Varamīn,[170] and is a fully moulted “haggard.”[171] It is now, in the beginning of this Spring, something less than two months since it first came into my hands; and I have now placed it in the mew. I have taken with it both purple[172] and common heron. This “tiercel” is a stout and heavy bird about as large as a female saker. Its flight is lofty and swift; its nature noble and generous. I have now set it down to moult and am anxious as to the result.

Of the Shunqār it is fabled that when flown at a flock[173] of cranes it does not act like ordinary falcons and single out and kill a solitary individual; that its lofty and imperious nature permits it to cease from slaughter only when every crane in the flock is a carcass on the ground. Now this is a superlative falsehood. My shunqār, like other hawks, kills only one. It has, indeed, chanced to me that, when flying a passage saker at a flock of cranes, the falcon, stooping from a height and dealing a crane a deadly blow, has then shot upwards by its impetus, and finding itself close to a second bird, has seized the unexpected opportunity, and “bound”[174] to the second crane’s head and so added a second victim to the bag. Once indeed I saw three cranes killed in this manner by a single hawk. Such occurrences are, however, lucky accidents. No hawk that I ever knew systematically acted in this manner.[175]

It is also commonly believed that the Shunqār is the acknowledged sovereign of the hawk tribe, and that should one be placed in the mew, every hawk will step down from its perch in token of humble submission. This, too, is a falsehood, pure and simple,—or else my young man is not a shunqār. At the moment I write I have more than fifty hawks of various kinds in my mews, but not one of them has ever left its perch, or honoured this sovereign, or shown respect in any manner of way. What is more, my fine gentleman the Shunqār stands very much in awe of eagles. Of course I am assuming that this hawk is a “shunqār;” equally of course I may be mistaken. All I know is that neither have I, nor has the oldest falconer in Persia, ever seen a falcon like it. The manner it stoops and recovers[176] is unequalled, either by the Shahin or the Saker. I have several times flown it at common crane with a good shāhīn[177] trained to this flight, and it has always reached the quarry and bound to it before the latter came up.[178] Every one says it is a shunqār. I say so, too. Of the “’tis” and the “’tisn’t” of the case, God alone is the Judge.

FOOTNOTES:

[148] Vide chapter XXV, page 69 for method of training for fowling purposes. I heard of the raven being thus trained and used as a “lure” for charg͟hs, in Baghdad, Baṣrah, and Muhammara.

[149] Dashtistān of Fārs; a warm region fringing the west of the Persian Gulf: Bushire is nearly the centre of its coast line.

[150] Kirmānshāh is a district about 250 miles north of Baṣrah (Bussora): its capital is said to be locally called Kirmānshāhān.

[151] Shunqār. In old Persian MSS. on falconry, this disputed name is undoubtedly applied to a Jerfalcon, a species of which is said to exist in Northern Asia. The following is a footnote from Falconry in the British Isles:—

“We have been informed by travellers that some few large white falcons, which must be Greenland falcons, are caught annually on their passing over the Caspian Sea and that they are highly prized by the falconers of Syria and Persia.”

The late Sirdar Sher ʿAli Khan, the exiled Wālī of Kandahar, told the translator that he kept shunqārs in Afghanistan, and that he once had one that was pure white. Jerdon, quoting Pallas, states that it is the Baschkir Tartar name of the Jerfalcon. Also in Courteille’s Dictionnaire Turk-Oriental we find:—“Shūnqār, faucon, proprement le gerfaut.” Dr. Scully, however, in his Turki vocabulary of birds states that shunqār is the name of Falco Hendersoni, and ītālgū of its female. If the coloured illustration of F. Hendersoni (supposed by its describer to be identical with the shunqār) that was published in the account of the Government Mission to Yarkand be a correct representation of the original, then no falconer, however experienced, can discriminate between F. Hendersoni and many old charg͟hs (F. Cherrug or F. Sacer) caught annually in the Panjab. Further, the Turks of Persia call the charg͟h Ītālgū, Aitalgu, etc.

[152] A.D. 1867.

[153] Qūsh-k͟hāna.

[154] The average length of some living specimens of the female immature saker measured by the translator was 22 inches. The average weight of young passage sakers, caught in the Panjab in October, is 2 lbs. 5 oz. Haggards very seldom exceed 2 lbs. 10 oz. An exceptionally fine charg͟h in the translator’s possession in 1892 weighed, when in flying condition, 2 lbs. 13½ oz.; while a second bird received in April, 1897, weighed 3 lbs. when fattened up for the moult. Both these last were young passage hawks. All weights were taken with the crop and stomach empty.

[155] Sāq, vide note [138] on page 33.

[156] Rān.

[157] Qara-qūsh.

[158] Vide page 31.

[159] An unconscious exaggeration on the author’s part. A mounted falconer, who will carry for six or seven hours at a stretch, without complaint, a hawk that weighs 2½ lbs., will tire at the end of an hour if this weight is exceeded by half a pound or even less. At such moments it is difficult to avoid forming an exaggerated estimate of the burden.

[160] “‘Mew;’ the place where hawks are set down to moult.... Mew, v. to moult, from the Fr. muer, to change the feathers.”—Harting.

[161] Vide Chapter on training the newly caught “passage” Saker Falcon. Neither English nor Indian falconers attempt to make hawks recognize their names. As, however, hawks are naturally very intelligent and can easily be trained to come to any distinct call, there would probably be no great difficulty in the matter. The idea seems novel.

[162] “‘Creance,’ s., Fr. créance, Lat. credentia, a long line attached to the swivel, and used when ‘calling off’; flying a hawk as it were on credit....”—Harting.

[163] For a straight short flight, Oriental falconers are generally agreed that the Sparrow-Hawk is one of “the swiftest birds that fly.”

[164] Māhūr, prop. “up and down land” (whether sand hills or hard ground).

[165] Qum is about eighty miles south of Teheran.

[166] Pul-i Dallāk or “Barber’s Bridge” is N.E. of and close to Qum: it spans the Qara-sū or Qara-chay.

[167] A.D. 1868.

[168] “A hawk is said to be ‘summed’ or ‘full summed’ when, after moulting, she has got all her new feathers and is fit to be taken out of the mew.”—Harting.

[169] Shimrānāt, a name given to the summer-quarters in the hills, near Teheran.

[170] K͟hār is a plain in ʿIrāq-i ʿAjamī, some thirty miles east of Teheran and separated from Varamīn by hills.

[171] “‘Haggard,’ a hawk that has been caught after assuming its adult plumage, that is, after having moulted in a wild state.”—Harting.

[172] Jarda. I believe this is the purple heron.

[173] Under “the compaynys of beeftys and Fowlys” in the Boke of St. Albans we learn that it is correct to speak of “an Herde of Cranys” or of “swannys” but a “Gagle of Gees” or of “women.”

[174] “‘Bind,’ to fasten to the quarry in the air.”—Harting.

[175] It is, of course, not the habit of wild hawks to kill more than one bird at a time. Major C. H. Fisher, commenting on this fact, writes (p. 140): “Nevertheless I have seen it done more than once by a wild falcon, and many times by my own trained birds—in the case of the wild falcon from having at her first stoop struck down her prey too close to a man; from over-keenness, I think, by the tame hawk.”

[176] In this quality of shooting up and preparing for a second stoop the Saker excels the Peregrine. The stoop, however, of the Saker is not as quick and sudden as the Peregrine’s.

CHAPTER XVII
THE SHĀHĪN[179]

This species is very widely distributed. It is divided into three varieties—namely, the dark, the light and the yellow.

VII
INTERMEWED PEREGRINE

The best shāhīns are procured from three districts: from Urūm[180] in Ottoman territory, from Ardabīl[181] in Persia, and from the hills of Shammar[182] in Arabia on the road to the holy city of Mecca.

The Urūm shahin is particularly common in Sīvās,[183] which place may be described as the “mine” of this variety. My private opinion, however, is that this, the shahin of Urūm, is not a shahin at all, but the young of the Peregrine; i.e., when snared it is a “peregrine,” when taken from the nest a “shahin.” My reason for forming this opinion is that I happened one Spring to be in Sīvās and called on the Governor. At my request he gave me a guide, who conducted me to a spot about two farsak͟h from the city, where there was a shahin’s eyrie in the hill-side. I sat down to observe it. My patience was soon rewarded by the appearance of the parent birds, bringing food for their young. I observed the birds closely, and discovered that they were not shahins but peregrines. This strengthened my previous supposition that confusion existed between the nestling and the passage hawk of the same species.

On another occasion I met a shikārchī[184] in Sīvās, with a peregrine on his fist. “What have you there,” I asked, “and what does it kill?” His reply was, “This is a shahin, which I took myself from the nest, and which I have trained to take eagles.” I accompanied him to his house, where he showed me ten or fifteen live eagles with clipped wings, which he kept loose near the house. It appeared that they had all been taken with the falcon then on his fist. I was seized with a desire to possess her, and offered him a large price; but he declined to part with his treasure.

The Shāhīn OF Jabal Shammar.—Although the shahin from the mountains of Shammar is small, the female not exceeding in size the male of the other two species, still it is swift, bold, and easily entered to quarry, small or great. One eyrie, known by the name Jarāza, is especially famous; eyesses obtained from it are better and bolder than all others.

VIII
YOUNG PEREGRINE (INDIAN HOOD)

Though the passage shahin has more pace and a better wind than the eyess, it is far less tractable, for it has preyed for itself in the jungle, and is filled with overweening pride of its powers of flight. Say you have, with infinite pains, succeeded in training one to large quarry, and have unhooded her at a common crane or a heron, and that suddenly, beneath her, she spies a wild duck, or a pigeon, or some other small quarry. What does she do? She “checks,” forsaking the large quarry for the small, and fills you with bitter disappointment. Now an eyess shahin will not act in this scurvy manner.

Supposing a passage falcon, shahin or peregrine, comes into your possession and you have no choice but to enter her to large quarry, you should blind her in the left eye, for when her right eye is on the quarry she has no spare eye to cast elsewhere, and her whole attention is necessarily occupied with the quarry at which she has been unhooded. This is in accordance with the saying of the poet:—

“My left eye I will darken to the light,[185]

So that I view thee only with my right.”

I have successfully made the experiment and speak from experience.

Should you, however, wish to keep her for small quarry, on no account blind her. For small quarry you will find her better than the eyess: she will ring up better, especially after Royston Crows[186] and those blackguardly yāplāq owls.[187]

As remarked previously, the passage shahin and the peregrine are one and the same, with this difference, that the peregrine is stronger and larger. The courage of the peregrine, too, is greater than that of the passage shahin.

Rūmalī[188] eyess shahins are bolder than all others—especially the dark variety.

FOOTNOTES:

[177] It must be recollected that the term shāhīn includes the peregrine.

[178] Good evidence, but not proof, since there is nothing to show that the “shāhīn” was flying its fastest, or that the condition of both birds was the same. Vide also note [236], page 56.

[179] Blanford (Eastern Persia, vol. II., page 103), writes:—“Persian falconers distinguished three varieties of Shahin, the Stambulī, Karabāghī and Fārsī, the first from Western Asia Minor, the second from Circassia, Georgia and Armenia, and the third from Southern Persia. The first has the darkest plumage, the last the lightest.... The Shahin is, however, not so much used in Persia as formerly; indeed, I have never seen it out of the royal mews, except when brought to Bushire, for sale to the Arabs of the opposite coast. The falcon described by Marco Polo as found in the mountains of Paríz near Karmán, can be no other than the Sháhín. The old traveller says, ‘In the mountains of Paríz near Karmán are found the best falcons in the world. They are inferior in size to the peregrine, red on the breast, under the neck and between the thighs; their flight is so swift that no bird can escape them’.”

Considerable confusion exists as to the term Shāhīn. Arab falconers in the Persian Gulf and the Persians of Bushire call the female peregrine shāhīna, and rarely baḥrīya. The Shayk͟hs of Baḥrayn Island procure peregrines from Bushire. The shāhīn (but not the peregrine) seems to be unknown in Baṣrah and Bag͟hdād. An Arabic MS. composed in the tenth century says, “If you desire to possess a shāhīn, then procure one of the peregrine (baḥrī) kind, especially if it be black-backed, ugly-faced, narrow-bodied, short-tailed, large-headed, sunken-eyed, piercing-eyed, large-beaked, deep-mouthed, short-backed, with long flight-feathers, and wings far apart from the body.” The peregrine (baḥrī) is unknown to the falconers of Kirman except by name. The shāhīn, however, is not uncommon in the district. The translator, who was for eighteen months in Kirman, found three nests of the shāhīn and one of the charg͟h. The shāhīns of Pārīz are, however, no longer famous.

[180] Is this meant for Erzerum?

[181] Ardabīl is East of Tabrīz and almost on the Caspian. It is a convict station.

[182] Shammar is a hilly district in Central Arabia.

[183] Sīvās. Is this the town in Asia Minor on the river Kizl Irmak and south of Trebizond?

[184] Shikārchī is the Turkish equivalent of the Hindustani shikārī. These words do not necessarily refer to professionals.

[185] In Persian, “to regard with the left eye” is an idiom for “to gaze at with contempt; to regard as an enemy.”

[186] Kulāg͟h-i ablaq, lit. “the piebald crow,” is the Royston Crow or a species exactly like it; it is common round Baghdad and in Persia. (The English magpie is also common in Persia and may locally be so named.)—Vide page 55, note [227].

[187] Yāplāg͟h-i pidar-sag, “the dog-fathered yāplāq,” is perhaps the Indian grass-owl or a species like it. The Author also calls another species, probably the Short-eared Owl, yāplāg͟h, but omits the epithet “son of a dog” when mentioning it. The former is a difficult quarry, the latter an easy one.—Vide note 2, page 23.

[188] Apparently an adjective from Urūm.

CHAPTER XVIII
THE PEREGRINE (BAḤRĪ)

Baḥrī.—I have already stated my opinion that the Peregrine is merely the Rūmalī Shāhīn caught after it has left the nest.

At any rate the best variety of peregrine is the yellowish, almond[189]-coloured, variety.

I have trained peregrines[190] to gazelle. They are, however, delicate[191] birds, as well as bold and daring: they dash themselves impetuously against the gazelle’s horns and thus frequently injure themselves fatally. This is the reason that falconers do not care to train them to gazelle. Further, on account of the flightiness[192] of their disposition they are not so very highly prized. When choosing a peregrine, select one with large feet, short legs, and long slender wings. Count the scales on the middle toe. Ordinarily there are only seventeen or eighteen.[193] If you find a bird with twenty-one, you have a treasure. A good peregrine should have a fine full breast, a broad back, and toes that are long and lean; and its body should be round and compact. An old master has not without reason sung:—

If I could have my fancy free,

Goshawks like wagtails[194] all should be,

And Sparrow-hawks like Goshawks all;

But Shāhīns round and Charg͟hs tall.[195]

Should Baḥrīs too from faults be free,

In truth broad-shouldered they must be.

FOOTNOTES:

[189] i.e., the colour of the skin of an almond. The yellow variety of peregrine is avoided by Panjab falconers.

[190] The only Englishman who attempted gazelle hawking in India was the late Sir Harry Lumsden who raised the Corps of Guides. He told the translator that the Amir used to send him from Kabul, at the beginning of the cold weather, trained hawks and greyhounds, as well as falconers. In an article in the Badminton Magazine on Sir Harry Lumsden’s gazelle hawks, there is an illustration of a peregrine striking at a gazelle. This is an error. Sir Harry used only charg͟hs for gazelle.

[191] Delicate compared to the saker, the falcon most prized by Orientals. In Baghdad (in 1900-01) the price of a peregrine had risen from three to ten rupees, whereas a saker was said to be worth as much as seventy rupees. In the Panjab, sakers range from Rs. 3 to Rs. 7. The Saker is, by most Easterns, preferred to the Peregrine, as it is hardier and can, to a certain extent, be fed on butcher’s meat, and still work well; whereas it is impossible to keep a peregrine in first-class condition without a constant supply of doves and pigeons, or birds whose flesh is equally good. Further, in the desert, the crops are scanty, and in consequence the houbara cannot always be marked down in their feeding grounds, but have to be laboriously beaten for by a long line of mounted men in open order; even a young saker will sit barefaced on the rider’s fist without bating, but keeping a sharp look out for the quarry, which, by running round the line or dodging through the intervals, may escape the keen sight of the beaters, but not the keener sight of the falcon.

[192] Hence the epithet yäwā applied to it and to the shahin, in the Kapurthala State.

[193] That is there are, in the female peregrine, seventeen or eighteen large scutæ (pūlak) that extend across the whole breadth of the toe. These scutæ vary greatly in size, and their number is no guide to the length of the toe: a hawk with a large number may have a short toe.

[194] Ṣaʿwa. I believe this is properly a wagtail, but the term is by some Turks also applied to a species of sparrow. Miyān Mahmūd Sāhibzāda, of Taunsa, a Muslim friend of mine, and a keen and successful falconer of considerable experience, is of opinion that though a goshawk should be long, it should have a short tail and a short tarsus. As a matter of course the hawk should be heavy and well furnished, the flesh being hard, not soft. “Never,” said this authority, “buy a camel, a horse, or a goshawk, with a short neck. A long neck is a sign of staying power and vigour.” The present Nawāb of Teri says that, in his experience, goshawks with sharp clean claws are inferior to those with worn and blunted nails, and this experience is confirmed by other Panjab falconers. Blunt and worn nails probably indicate that a hawk is keen and persevering; that after it “puts in” the partridge, it runs round and round the cover on foot and does not give up the chase. Indians, or rather Panjabis, object to light eyes in a goshawk. “...; the worst you can say by an hawke for their shape is, that shee is a long slender and beesome-tailed hawke.”—Bert. “In yo^r choice observe when yo buy, a larg beake, a larg foote, a short train, an upright stande, and all of a peece.”—Harting (quoting a MS. in the British Museum): vide page ix, Introduction, Booke for Keping of Sparchawkes. In the latter work the “Tokens of a Good Hawke” are: “Large: heade slender: beake thick and greate like a parot: seare sayre: nares wyde: stalke short and bygg: foote large, wyde, and full of strengeth: mail thick: wynges large w^t narow fethers: heye of fleshe and euer disposed to feede egerly.”

[195] Many Panjab falconers assert that long charg͟hs are faster and stoop in better style. They are certainly not inferior to the shorter birds.

CHAPTER XIX
THE SAKER[196] FALCON (F. Cherrug)

[The author now mentions fourteen races and varieties of bālābān,[197] each of which he distinguishes by some special epithet.

Kabīdī (?).—The first race or variety described is apparently named kabīdī:[199]]—It has a white head, without any cheek-stripe or dark mark under the eyes.[200] With this exception the colouration is dark: the feathers of both the body and the tail[201] are without spots. It is large in size and bold in nature, and good for either crane[202] or gazelle, but, alas, it is scarce. In the whole of my experience I have met with only one.

Bālābān-i Fārsī.—Next is the Bālābān-i Fārsī, or “Saker of Fārs,” which is subdivided into the red and the white varieties. Neither has cheek stripes. The back, from the neck to the oil-bottle,[203] is covered with spots and markings, and the redder these are in tint, the better the bird. The flight-feathers,[204] seven in each wing, are also covered with spots. The feet are a very light slate-colour. The darker and smaller the beak, tongue, and nails, the better. The feet are lean, the tarsi short, the thighs stout, the chest and back broad, the wings fine and pointed, the eyes sunken, the eyebrows prominent; the neck is long, the forehead broad, the “waist” small. If the hawk has all these points, it is incomparable.

IX
YOUNG PASSAGE SAKER (DARK VARIETY)

Bālābān-i Aḥmar-i Shām.—Next is the Bālābān-i aḥmar-i Shām or the “Red Syrian Saker,” of which there are two varieties, the red and the black. In a good bird of this race, the two centre tail-feathers, called by the Arabs ʿamūd or “props,” and by the Turks qāpāq,[205] as well as the two outer tail-feathers, one on each side,[206] should be without spot or marking.

Bālābān-i Badrī.—The next race is called badrī.[207] It has a white head and no cheek stripe. The general colouration is reddish, and the back and breast are without markings. The two centre tail-feathers are sometimes with spots and sometimes without: if with spots the smaller and redder they are the better.

These four races or varieties are by the Arabs styled ḥurr ṣāfī.[208]

Badū-pasand (?).—[A variety of the Badrī has a name[209] that cannot be deciphered with certainty.] This is a variety of the Badrī, but the whole of the tail is white without the admixture of any other colouring. It is uncommon, and though it belongs to the class of ḥurr,[208] it is poor-spirited and not prized.

Jibālī.—The next race is the Mountain[210] (?) Saker. It has a little black only, under the eye. It has on the back, two, four, or six white spots, called by the Arabs Pleiades (Thurayyā). The “prop” feathers have sometimes spots and sometimes none. In any case it is not styled by the Arabs ḥurr ṣāfī, for the ḥurr ṣāfī must not only be without cheek stripes, but must also have certain other points.

The first four described are, however, all included in the ḥurr ṣāfī. According to the idiom of Arab falconers, the ḥurr ṣāfī must have the back “free from Pleiades,”[211] the “prop” feathers “clear of marks,”[212] and the two outside feathers (one on each side) “void of stain.”[213] Also it must have no cheek stripe, nor black under the eyes. Should the hawk not have these points, they class it as jibālī and not as ḥurr ṣāfī.

X
YOUNG PASSAGE SAKER (DARK VARIETY)

Bālābān-i Lafīf.—Next is the bālābān-i lafīf,[214] and of this there are three varieties, the yellowish, the dark, and the light. All three have cheek-stripes or dark feathers under the eyes. As in the case of the eyess chark͟h, if this race is taken from the nest it is called in Turki aitālgī, in Arabic wacharī,[215] and in Persian chark͟h. Should it have left the nest and be caught in a net, it is called (in Persian) bālābān-i lafīf.

Now as for those four races described above as ḥurr ṣāfī, I have in my many travels and constant inquiries never met with any hawk-catcher or sportsman[216] who has taken a ḥurr ṣāfī from the nest. No one even knows in what country, birds of this race breed. All I know for certain is, that in the beginning of Autumn they come to us from across the sea, from the direction of Muscat and Baḥrayn.[217] God knows where they breed and whence they travel. Those that I have seen in Persia, Turkey,[218] and Europe[219] have all been lafīf and have all had cheek stripes.

The lafīf is to the ḥurr ṣāfī what the t̤arlān is to the qizil, or what the Nejd[220] horse is to the Turkoman pony.[221] Moult after moult the ḥurr ṣāfī becomes better, whereas the lafīf flies well for not more than three seasons: after that it becomes cunning.[222] I have at present two bālābān of the ḥurr ṣāfī race, one of sixteen and one of seventeen moults; one is “Persian” and the other “Red Syrian.”[223] Both are still excellent at common crane.[224] Birds of this race, while life lasts, year by year improve, for their nature is noble.

The Bālābān-i Lafīf of Baghdad.—A variety of the Lafīf that I have met with nowhere except in Baghdad, is called by Baghdad falconers Wacharī.[225] In general colouring, it is dark with a tinge of red on the head. The flight-feathers are dark in colour and long, extending beyond the tail. It has small feet and the female is about the same size as the tiercel of the eyess chark͟h.[226] It is very swift, nearly as swift as the shāhīn. It takes the small piebald crow,[227] black partridge,[228] and stone-plover, with ease. Some few I have seen that would take houbara.

It has a great outward resemblance to the Hobby which is found round Teheran.

FOOTNOTES:

[196] Ṣaqar (sometimes pronounced ṣagar or ṣag͟har) is one of the names by which this falcon (F. Sacer of Jerdon and F. cherrug of Blanford) is known to the Arabs. Possibly the word ṣaqar is by Arabs applied to other falcons also.

[197] Considerable confusion exists with regard to the various names of this falcon. By Indians this species is called charg͟h, by Afghans chark͟h. By Persians the passage falcon is styled bālābān and the eyess chark͟h, while by the Turks of Persia the passage falcon and the eyess are often both called aitālgī. The Author, however, himself a Turk, states that the nestling of a particular variety is by Turkish falconers distinguished by the name aitālgī. In Lahore to Yarkand, a report on some of the scientific results of the expedition to Yarkand in 1870, there is a coloured figure of an old and not uncommon variety of the Saker, to which the scientific name of Falco Hendersoni is appended; and it is stated that Mr. Hume considered this falcon to be the Shunqār of Eastern falconers. Apparently following up this idea, Scully, in his vocabulary of the Turki names of birds, gives as the equivalent of the Turki aitalgū, “the female of the ‘shunqār,’ Falco Hendersoni.” There is, however, evidence to show that, in ancient times, Shunqār was a name given by Indian falconers to a species of Jerfalcon, vide page 36, note [151]. Modern Indian falconers, proverbial for inaccuracy, have a habit of calling any Saker (charg͟h) that is unusual in size and markings a “shunqār,” and so, by exciting emulation, obtain a fictitious price from some credulous native gentleman. Though seemingly only one species of charg͟h visits the Panjab, individuals so vary in size, shape, markings, and colouration, that it is at first sight difficult to believe that they are of the same species. Amongst young birds some are whole-coloured, others have some small white specks on the back, while others again have white heads with spotted tails. In some varieties the tail spots are barely visible; in others they are so white and numerous that the spread tail appears to be nearly all white. Peculiarities may disappear to a great extent in the first moult. The colouring of the “intermewed”[198] falcon depends, to a great extent, on feeding and exposure. “Haggards” vary, nearly, if not quite, as much as the immature hawks. A rare variety is said, by Panjabī falconers and others, to have the tarsus feathered “like certain breeds of pigeons.” In the Derajat this variety is distinguished by the term pā-moz or “booted,” while in the Pindi Gheb district it is considered a distinct species and called Sang-sang. The evidence of the existence of this peculiar variety (which is also supposed to be above the average in size) is detailed and corroborative. Arab falconers of Baṣrah have described this variety to the translator, and stated that it is known to them by the name of Shung͟hār. By the name Sang-sang some species of falcon (probably a chark͟h) is known to the Afghans. The Charg͟h breeds in Afghanistan, Persia, and elsewhere, but not in India. Apparently more than one race visits India. In the Panjab it is flown only at large quarry—kite, hare, houbara, and occasionally at black ibis and common heron. In Baghdad it is said to be flown at geese. Corballis, in Forty-five Years of Sport, says, “This falcon is good at smaller game, such as grouse, partridges, etc.” Apparently he is speaking of Syria. The Saker is too slow for sand-grouse in ordinary circumstances.

[198] “‘Intermewed.’ A hawk that has been moulted in confinement.”—Lascelles.

[199] This word is perhaps a copyist’s error.

[200] Madmaʿ Ar. sing. “The place where the tears collect in the sides of the eye”; the pl. madāmiʿ comprises the inner and outer angles of the eyes, but is especially applied to the inner. Vide note [49], page 8.

[201] In India a hawk with a tail without marks is called lagaṛ-dum, or “tailed like the Lagar Falcon.”

[202] In Dresser’s Birds of Europe it is stated that Jerdon once took a Sārus crane (Grus Antigone) with a Saker.

[203] Mudhun A. and rūg͟han-dān P.

[204] Shāh-par, “flight-feather.”

[205] Qāpāq; derivation unknown.

[206] These two feathers are apparently called by the Arabs rudāfạ. This word is the plural of radīf which literally signifies “to ride pillion.” In m. c. it is the name given by Persians and Turks to the “Army Reserve.” Vide also page 73, note [305].

[207] Possibly from badr, “the full moon.”

[208] Ḥurr Ar. “free-born”; hence “noble.” The Saker and Goshawk are styled ḥurr, and also the young of certain animals. Ṣāfī, “pure, unmixed, etc.”

[209] Apparently Badū-pasand, “liked by the Bedouins.”

[210] Jibālī, adj. from jibāl “mountains,” plural of jabal.

[211] Sālim^u S̤urayyā.

[212] Mut̤laq^u ’l-ʿamūd.

[213] Māṣiḥ rudāfạ.

[214] Lafīf: meaning of lafīf obscure.

[215] There is no letter ch in Arabic. In ʿIrāq, however, k is sometimes pronounced ch. Wakr (wachr) in Arabic is a nest, so “wachrī” might signify “nestling.” An Arab gentleman in Baṣrah (a falconer) told me that the white Saker with drops on the back is called Ḥurr Ṣāfī; the same if of a reddish tinge Ḥurr Shāmī; and that these races are supposed to come from “Persia” and “Syria.” The dark Saker with drops on the back is, he said, called Wacharī Jarūdī, and without drops Wacharī. The best for gazelle, he stated, was the “Persian” and “Syrian.” The Baghdad Sakers are preferred to those of Baṣrah. Sakers are caught in Bushire and taken for sale to Baṣrah, where they fetch as much as seventy rupees. In the Panjab their price varies from three to ten rupees, according to locality and season.

[216] Shikārchī, a comprehensive term; “sportsman, fisherman, bird-catcher, etc., etc.”

[217] The Sheikh of Baḥrayn keeps many sakers and peregrines which are flown at houbara on the opposite Persian Coast. The translator once travelled with the Sheikh’s two sons in a B. I. boat: they had fifty or sixty falconers and as many peregrines and sakers, all, with one exception, young and newly trained.

[218] By Turkey, the Author probably means Asia Minor.

[219] Probably Turkey in Europe.

[220] The best bred Arab horses are from Nejd.

[221] Yābū, a pony of a coarse breed.

[222] Duzd, lit. “a thief.”

CHAPTER XX
THE EYESS SAKER FALCON

The eyess chark͟h[229] is of four kinds. First there is the variety that in the Spring[230] months breeds in the hills of Persia and Turkey.[231]

Another is found in Nejd[232] in Turkish territory, where it lays its eggs on the bare ground, like the black-breasted sand-grouse,[233] and the houbara bustard. This variety is called chark͟h-i māniʿī.[234]

Another kind nests in the hills and dry water-courses of Nejd. From thence nestlings are obtained by the Arabs who style them Ḥijāzī.[235]

All these kinds, if obtained from the nest, are chark͟h, and if snared after they have left the nest are lafīf.

The chark͟h-i māniʿī is exceptionally good, whether for gazelle, or common crane, or golden eagle: you can train it to anything. I am able to state that it is faster even than the shāhīn, for I have often flown one at crane in company with a shāhīn, and it has reached and “bound” to the crane a long way ahead of it.[236]

The colouration of the māniʿī varies, but that variety that has very red markings on the back, like a kestril,[237] is the best. Of all the chark͟hs of the world the māniʿī with red spots on the back is the best. Although it is an eyess (chark͟h) and is obtained from the nest, it is equal to any noble passage falcon (bālābān) of the ḥurr ṣāfī race. It is to be obtained only from the Arabs of Unayza.[238] In that waterless part of ʿArabistān its chief prey is houbara and hare.[239]

FOOTNOTES:

[223] Fārsī and Aḥmar Shāmī.

[224] The common crane is, in the air, an easier quarry than the heron. The struggle on the ground is, however, severe and highly dangerous, as the crane uses its sharp claw with great effect.

[225] Vide page 54, note [215].

[226] Some Indian and Persian falconers I questioned in Baghdad had never met with a falcon that answered this description. The Lagaṛ falcon (F. Jugger) of India—a desert falcon—does not answer to the description. Also it does not appear to be found in Persia or Asia Minor.

[227] Kulāg͟h-i kūchak u ablaq, presumably “the hooded crow,” common around Baghdad and in Persia. The author probably styles it “small” as compared to the raven, which is sometimes called by the same name. Vide page 46, note [186].

[228] Durrāj, “the francolin.”

[229] Chark͟h is the eyess saker, and bālābān the passage saker.

[230] There are four distinct seasons of the year, in Persia. The Spring, unlike the Indian Spring, is long and cool. The Saker falcon migrates from the Panjab much earlier than the peregrine.

[231] i.e., Turkish territory.

[232] Nejd, in central Arabia, directly west of Baḥrayn Island.

[233] Bāqir-qara T. and Siyāh-sīnah P.: both words signify literally “black breast.” The Arab gentleman mentioned in note [215], page 54, informed me that in certain localities the saker nests on the bare ground. Vide also page 115, note [491]. An Englishman told me that he once, in Wales, found two peregrine’s eggs laid on the bare open ground close to a cliff edge.

[234] Has māniʿī here the signification of “difficult of access”?

[235] Ḥijāz, a province on the Red Sea. It is not in Nejd.

[236] This is no sure test of swiftness, for a peregrine flown with a large and powerful saker often flies “cunning.” Vide note [178], page 42.

[237] I have known a saker that in the immature plumage was white and covered with spots (such a saker is styled in the Kapurthala State chītal charg͟h and is there considered useless for anything except hare) assume this red kestril-like plumage on its first moult.

[238] Unayza, name of a tribe and of a place in West Nejd. The tribe is famous for a breed of horses, larger and coarser than the Nejd breed. The name is said to be the diminutive of either anza, a “she-goat” or of anaza, a “javelin.”

[239] All sakers in a wild state occasionally prey on houbara. Trained haggards, but not young passage hawks, will as a rule take hare without being entered by a “train.” Perhaps during the nesting season, the parent birds are driven to killing hare. I have seen a young passage hawk of mine, flying close to the ground, carry a hare for two or three hundred yards. The hare, a fine hill specimen, weighed 4½ lbs., while the saker weighed only 2 lbs. 4 oz. I have seen an “intermewed” saker stoop at, and strike, a large hare on the head, with such force that the hare never moved again. In Dresser’s Birds of Europe it is stated on the authority of Colonel Przevalsky that in Mongolia, in Winter, the chief food of the saker is the Alpine hare.

CHAPTER XXI
STRANGE ARAB DEVICES FOR CATCHING THE PASSAGE SAKER

The Arabs have two strange devices for catching the bālābān. It chances sometimes that, while out hawking, a wild bālābān will suddenly drop from the sky, and seize a flushed houbara. The Arabs wait till the falcon has broken into the quarry and has begun to eat. Then they go slowly towards the falcon, which, unable to carry off the heavy quarry, perforce abandons it: the falcon will retire to a distance of five- or six-hundred yards and regard her quarry with eyes of regret. Two shikār-chīs go up to the dead houbara and quickly and deftly dig a pit in the sand with their sticks. One of them stealthily gets into this pit and is completely covered with sand, his nose only being above ground. One arm is extended, but concealed by a light sprinkling of sand. The dead houbara is then placed on his open palm and the other men all withdraw to a distance. After a short time, the bālābān, seeing the coast clear, returns without suspicion to its prey. Poor thing, what knows it of what is underground? Slowly it returns to its quarry and re-settles on it. That cuckoldy pimp in his living grave feels the falcon settle; then slowly, very slowly, under cover of the houbara’s feathers his hand searches for his victim’s feet. The hapless falcon, in dread of a robber eagle, eagerly busies itself with pluming and eating: its whole attention is directed to its food. Sooner or later some part of its foot or leg touches the hidden hand, and the freedom of the noble bird is gone. The dead man then comes to life and rises from his sandy grave.[240]

Another Device.—There is another cunning device, which can be practised only during the season of the terrible east wind of Baghdad—“We take refuge in God from it.”[241] This wind blows with incessant severity for two to nine days at a time. Day and night it rages, ceasing not for one minute. None dare venture out in it; everything comes to a standstill. All sorts of wild birds, fearing to be swept away far from their hunting and feeding grounds, take refuge from the force of the wind by settling on the ground. Perhaps some luckless sportsmen, when out hawking, get caught in this wind, and by chance spy a bālābān seated on the sandy gritty soil. One of the party will go directly up-wind of it, and raising all the dust and sand[242] he can with his hands and feet, will scatter it on the wind. Under cover of this cloud of dust, which is carried by the wind on to the falcon, he quickly advances, stirring up the while all the sand he can with his hands and feet. The falcon’s eyes get filled with the sand: in vain it rubs them on its feathers: the sand-storm continues, while the man behind it ceases not advancing with rapidity. The falcon is first forced to close its eyes, but the sand stops up its nostrils, and it soon has no choice but to seek protection for its head under its wing. In this unsuspecting and helpless attitude it is secured by hand.

Author captures a Vulture.—Once I went on a pilgrimage to Haẓrat-i Salmān-i Fārsī,[243] and intending to kill two birds with one stone took with me four or five chark͟hs and bālābāns that were trained to gazelle, and nine or ten mounted falconers. I started early in the morning, and expected to secure during the day five or six gazelles at least. We had gone about two farsak͟h[244] when the east wind began to rise. It gradually increased in force till about two hours before noon, by which time we had reached the very “mine”[245] of gazelle. To the right and left of us there was nothing but gazelle, but, on account of the wind, it was impossible to fly the hawks. Soon the air became darkened, and so strong was the wind that it could have borne aloft a thousand thrones of Solomon.[246] We were nearly lifted off our horses to be hurled far into the desert. There was nothing for it but to “mail”[247] the chark͟hs and bālābāns and carry them under our arms, or in the skirts of our robes. We were now in ground that is called Ḥawr Saʿda[248]: it is low-lying ground, void of dust or sand, for when the Tigris overflows its banks in the Spring, the hollow retains water, and grass and reeds spring up. This hollow was about two farsak͟h broad by six or seven long, and was a favourite feeding-ground of gazelle. The well-known medicinal herb galingale[249] is produced here in abundance; hence the name of Ḥawr Saʿda given to the spot.

Well, as soon as we emerged from this ḥawr, we lost sight of the Arch of Ctsesiphon and the dome of Haẓrat-i Sulaymān. Though we knew the ground thoroughly, having hawked gazelle there hundreds of times, we completely lost our bearings and wandered about aimlessly and perplexedly, we knew not whither. At last we emerged on to the sandy desert, and realized that we had left the shrine of Sulaymān on our left. Our horses were unable to proceed, for their eyes and nostrils were soon choked with sand.

Suddenly a huge carrion vulture[250] dropped to earth and settled before us. I told my attendants to stop still while I circumvented it by the Arab method. I made a circuit and got up-wind of it, and assisted the wind in covering it with sand and dust. At last I reached the vulture and saw that the poor thing had tucked away its head, and was to all appearance asleep. I cast myself on it and secured it, and saw that its eyes and nostrils were so choked with sand that it could scarcely breathe. I made the Ābdār[251] carry it till we reached the shrine. Not having enough food for the hawks, I bought a fat young sucking-lamb,[252] and killed it. The liver and heart were given to the vulture, which, when the wind subsided, was duly released.

I could have captured gazelle by the same method had it not been for their sense of smell.

FOOTNOTES:

[240] An Afghan acquaintance told the translator that he had seen demoiselle cranes (k͟har-k͟hare) caught in the following manner at Kabul. Small boys were buried in the sand at intervals, their noses above ground and their arms extended—the arms carefully covered with sand and shingle. The unsuspecting cranes were then slowly driven towards the hidden children. Sometimes two or three birds are caught in this manner. The children are buried on the spot where the cranes rest at night. In Chitral, goshawks are said to be caught by the following device: The top of a bare hillock is selected, scooped out and roofed over, the chamber thus made being sufficiently large to conceal a man. The trapper enters the chamber from the side, and closes the entrance. He then puts through a hole in the roof a live chukor fitted with jesses, and with a leash five or six feet long. The hole in the roof is closed, and the partridge flutters at the extent of its leash. When the goshawk appears, the cries of the chukor warn the trapper. When the goshawk seizes the partridge, it is slowly drawn towards the hole by the trapper. The hawk, feeling resistance, only “binds” the tighter, till it is suddenly seized by the legs from within the hut. The chief places for catching goshawks near Chitral are said to be the Singūr forest; the Bakamak hill; the Makhtāmābād hill; and the Urgutch hill. These are the four Mihtarī places, i.e., hawks caught there are the property of the Mihtar.

[241] A common exclamation amongst Muslims; used in time of danger, on hearing of an accident, and on seeing one afflicted with a horrible disease such as leprosy.

[242] Shin va māssa.

[243] Salmān-i Fārsī was a Persian of Abyssinian extraction. He was one of the “Companions of the Prophet.” His tomb, on a bank of the Tigris, not far from Baghdad, is close to the old ruined palace of Kisra, called by the Arabs Tāq-Kisrạ “The arch of Cyrus.” Here, too, is the site of Madāʿin or “The cities,” the capital of Persia at the time of the Muslim conquest. Seven cities are said to have existed on this site, T̤aysafūn or Ctsesiphon being one of them. It was in the latter that the Tāq-Kisrạ existed, built, according to some accounts, by Nūshīravān the Just.

[244] A farsak͟h is about 3¾ miles.

[245] “Mine,” an Arab idiom for any place where the game is found in abundance.

[246] ʿArsh-i Sulaymān. The winds were subject to Solomon. His throne was placed on an immense carpet of green silk, and his forces, men on the right, jinn on the left, took their stand upon it, and the wind bore it aloft under Solomon’s orders, while the army of birds formed a canopy above.

[247] Qapāncha kardan, “to mail” a hawk, i.e., to wrap it up in a “sock” or cloth, so that it is in a kind of strait-jacket. Even on foot it is impossible to carry hawks in a strong desert wind.

[248] Ḥawr is low-lying ground or dried marsh land that is full of grass and reeds. Saʿda is an adjective from the grass saʿd-i kūfī mentioned later.

[249] Saʿd-i kūfī is a tall sweet-smelling grass used in medicine. The scientific name is said to be Cyperus Scariosus. The Hindi name is, I think, nāgar moth.

“The dale

Was seen far inland and the yellow down

Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale

And meadow, set with slender galingale.”

—Lotus Eaters.

[250] Dāl-i murdār-k͟hwār.

[251] Abdār, a servant in charge of the drinks, tea-things, etc. He would of course be mounted, probably on a mule.

[252] Barra-yi shīr-mast.

CHAPTER XXII
THE MERLIN

This little falcon is beyond all praise. There are three varieties, the dark, the light, and the yellow, the first being the best. No Persian falconer has yet found the nest of the merlin, nor is it known in what country it breeds. All I know is that, about two months after the beginning of Autumn, it is spread over the face of the land, and is then caught in nets by the bird-catchers.

Like the bālābān there are three kinds, the Ḥurr Ṣāfī, the Aḥmar Shāmī,[253] and the Lafīf. The dark variety, which is the Lafīf and has cheek-stripes,[254] is better than the Ḥurr Ṣāfī. Unlike the Saker, this falcon is somewhat forgetful by nature.

If you want to train a “cast”[255] of merlins to fly larks,[256] train them quickly, luring them three times or four times a day to a lure made of pigeons’ wings.[257] Now get a live lark, and for three days,—after the merlin has been made hot and excited by being called to the lure—tie the lark to the end of a long stick, and fly the hawk at that, making it stoop four or five times.[258] Then let the hawk take, and eat half of the lark. Do this three times a day, flying it after it has digested its meal.[259]

After the merlins are well entered to the lark at the end of the stick,[260] go out into the open country. Show them, by hand, a good lark, unruffled and strong on the wing; then let it fly, casting off both merlins after it.[261] They will stoop at it and take it. When they do, feed them up together. Do this for three or four days.

Now go into the open country and fly them at a wild lark, choosing some spot free from wells or gardens: for, if your hawk chases a lark into a well, it will probably get destroyed; if it chases it into a garden, it will not only lose the lark, but lose itself. You require a clear open plain.

The quicker you train these little falcons the better, but with other hawks the contrary holds good: in training the latter, use deliberation.

Method of Snaring Larks.—I am certain the reader has been saying to himself, “Where am I to get all these live larks? Surely the author is wrong somewhere.” No, my friend, it is you that are wrong. Now listen to me while I tell you how to snare larks.

Get a long, light pole,[262] about eleven feet long, and bind to the end of it, a horse-hair noose[263] (of white horse-hair for choice) made of a single hair, and use white thread for the binding.[264] As soon as your merlin is keen on the lure, go out into the open country with an assistant. When you come across a lark, give the merlin to your assistant, and then move aside ten or fifteen paces. Now, alongside of the lark, lure the merlin to your fist. As soon as the lark spies the hawk, it will crouch on the ground, its eyes glued on the hawk. Now hand over the hawk to your assistant. Make him hold his hand high, and by lowering it and raising it cause the hawk to extend and flutter its wings, so that the attention of the lark may remain engrossed on it. Tell your man to go to the left of the lark and to stand about ten paces from it, making the hawk flutter all the time. Do you go to its right, and, advancing very slowly, extend the pole, slip the horse-hair noose on to the poor lark’s neck, and draw it to you, and—there is your “train.” This device is the invention of your humble servant. It is most successful in the Autumn and Winter months.

A lark, before a cast of merlins, gives a very pretty ringing flight. In the Spring, however, and even on warm days in the Winter,[265] they will not ring up.

A very good female merlin will take “chukor,” “seesee,”[266] quail, woodcock,[267] and other small quarry.

Defect of Merlins.—Merlins are inveterate “carriers,”[268] a great defect in their character, and should therefore be flown as a “cast,” and not singly. Another defect is that, if allowed to get very hungry, they begin to tear their own feet; and if the falconer be inattentive, they will tear away the flesh till they reach the shank bone.[269] Once they learn this vice, the only remedy is to give them their freedom. The falconer must therefore be careful to keep them always in high condition, for otherwise they will not only not “ring up” well, but will also contract the vice just mentioned.

A good, young, merlin may be kept and moulted, but just as is the case of a young passage saker and an “intermewed”[270] one, an intermewed[271] merlin will not ring up as well as a young passage hawk. The young hawk is light in body, and ignorant as well; but after the moult it becomes not only heavy, but cunning also, and will give up the moment it sees that the lark it is chasing is very strong on the wing. A “haggard” bālābān,[272] however, will, in the hands of a skilful falconer, ring up better than a young passage bālābān.

There are two varieties of merlin. In one variety the immature and mature plumage are, even after many moults, the same. In the other, the plumage of the back, after the first moult, becomes blue-grey, while the cere and legs become bright yellow like amber. I have never been able to discriminate which kind it is that will remain the same, and which kind will assume the blue plumage and yellow cere.

FOOTNOTES:

[253] Vide note [208], page 52.

[254] Madāmiʿ, pl. of madmaʿ, vide p. 50, note [200].

[255] “‘Cast,’ s., a ‘cast of hawks,’ i.e., two; not necessarily a pair.”—Harting.

[256] Kākulī P., which elsewhere the author says is called quṃburah by the Arabs; it is the Crested Lark.

[257] A lure made of pigeons’ wings is not very durable.

[258] The lark at the end of the stick will be in the air the whole time, and the merlin, though raw, will not therefore sit on the ground.

[259] Baʿd az burdan-i gūsht. A merlin will eat in a day, two sparrows or larks.

[260] Kākulī-yi mīk͟h-band.

[261] Har du rā juft bi-yandāz.

[262] In the Dera Ismail Khan district, in the Panjab, the common desert lark called chandūr used to be snared in this fashion, the wand used being a stalk of the grass called kānā.

[263] Ḥalqa-yi mū-yi dum-i asp.

[264] The surface of the desert ground would be whitish in colouration.

[265] Not clear whether the author means that it is the larks or the hawks that will not ring up, or both.

[266] Kabk, the Red-legged Partridge of India: tīhū, the Seesee of India.

[267] Yalva T., is a name of the woodcock, but it is probably a name given also to some species of rail. One Persian Turk tells me that it is called by the Persians k͟hurūsak, and “is of a reddish brown colour, has a long bill, yellow legs, and frequents damp or marshy ground.”

[268] “‘Carry,’ v., to fly away with the quarry.”—Harting.

[269] Qalam.

[270] “‘Intermewed’.—A hawk that has been moulted in confinement.”—Lascelles.

[271] K͟hāna-t̤ūlak.

[272] “Haggard,” a hawk that has moulted in a wild condition. The author here calls this dāsh-t̤ūlak T. “moulted outside.”

XI
HOBBY WITH SEELED EYES

CHAPTER XXIII
THE HOBBY[273]

The hobby resembles the merlin somewhat, but is larger, darker in colouring, and prettier in appearance. It has long broad wings, dark in colouring. Its feet are small and yellow. In a wild state it kills larks and such-like small quarry, hunting well, like the merlin, but it is evil-natured and cowardly.[274] In the Shamīrānāt and in Māzandarān[275] it nests in the gardens.[276] Nestlings, however, are useless. The female is about the size of a shahin tiercel. It can be trained, but with much trouble. You can, however, train one easily to fly in company with a merlin, and make it kill by means of the merlin’s assistance. More than this is not to be expected of it.[277] If, as I say, you get a fine female passage falcon, call it to the lure and fly it at “trains” and wild quarry, in company with a merlin, but never bother yourself with an eyess.

FOOTNOTES:

[273] Layl, “The Hobby.”

[274] A hobby is too cowardly to be caught by a common quail as a bait. I have frequently tried and failed, but on substituting a sparrow have succeeded instantly. Lieut.-Colonel E. Delmé Radcliffe in his pamphlet on Falconry states that the European Hobby is sometimes trained in India and flown at the Hoopoe and the male at the Diongo-Shrike or “King-crow.” I have, however, never met with any Panjabī falconer who had heard of one being trained with success.

[275] For Shamīrānāt, vide note [169], page 40. Mazenderan is a province on the south coast of the Caspian.

[276] In the desert, the bag͟hs or “gardens” are the only places where there are tall trees.

[277] The hobby is not trained in the Panjab. In Albin’s Natural History of Birds (pub. 1738) it is stated that “The Fowlers, to catch these Hawks, take a Lark and having blinded her and fastened Lime-twigs to her legs, let her fly where they see the Hobby is, which striking at the Lark is entangled with the Lime-twigs.”

XII
HOBBY WITH SEELED EYES

XIII
HOBBY WITH SEELED EYES

CHAPTER XXIV
THE SANGAK[278]

This “falcon” closely resembles the Indian Sparrow-Hawk,[279] but the young bird is smaller and darker in colouration. Also it has not the dark stripe under the chin.[280] The only difference between the two is that the Sangak is black-eyed while the Pīqū is yellow-eyed.[281]

In the jungle it preys chiefly on locusts and frogs, but occasionally kills a small wounded or diseased bird. It haunts “gardens,” and, like the hobby, nests in trees. However, it is a bird impotent and unvalued, except for its tail, which can be used for “imping”[282] that of a pīqū.

The “intermewed” bird and the nestling are identical in plumage, and cannot be distinguished from each other.

FOOTNOTES:

[278] I am unable to identify this hawk.

[279] Pīqū or pīg͟hū, the shikra of India.

[280] Usually present in the young as well as in the old shikra.

[281] Arzaq-chashm, properly “blue-eyed.” Young shikras have sometimes bluish grey eyes.

[282] “Imp to” is to repair broken flight- or tail-feathers by sewing in, “grafting,” etc.: for methods vide Badminton Library.

CHAPTER XXV
THE KESTRIL[283]

There are two species of kestril. One species is yellowish in colouration and is covered with very pretty spots and markings; the other is yellowish but without markings, whilst its claws are small and white.

The first species, the “black-clawed” kestril,[284] kills in a wild state, sparrows, quails, starlings[285] and such small quarry, but as it is ill-tempered and slow of flight, falconers care little for it. It, however, serves several purposes.

First: In Bushire and the desert tract of Fārs[286] it is caught and trained as the Raven is trained by the Arabs.[287] A raven is caught and so trained to “wait” on, that it will circle above the head for half an hour. A fine cord about forty inches long is fastened to its legs having at the end a bunch of feathers the size of a sparrow. Thus prepared it is cast off to “wait on.” From a distance it has the appearance of some bird of prey attempting to seize a small bird, and this, arousing jealousy, attracts bālābāns and other birds of prey from a distance. Then, on the arrival of, say, a bālābān with the other birds, the raven settles, when the fowler lets fly a pigeon in front of the bālābān. The latter fancies this is the quarry the raven was chasing.[288] The moment it seizes the pigeon it is snared. Bālābāns are also caught with kestrils trained in this manner.[289]

Second: If you want to take passage sakers with an eyess saker (chark͟h), catch one or two kestrils in a du-gaza or sparrow-hawk net,[290] “seel” their eyes and fly them as “trains.” Next fly your eyess[291] at a wild bālābān: it will certainly not fail to take it.[292]

For an eyess saker that is being trained to take eagles and sakers, kestrils and buzzards[293] are necessary “trains.”

When giving a buzzard as a “train” the hind claw must be firmly bound back to the shank. Also for the first three or four times meat must be tied to its back before it is shown to and released for the eyess. When the young hawk takes the “train,” she should be fed on freshly-killed pigeon or chicken flesh. It is not, however, necessary to tie back the hind claw of a kestril, as it is too weak to inflict an injury.

Third: the tail, especially that of the moulted and mature bird, is excellent for imping the broken tail-feathers of a sparrow-hawk.

Lesser Kestril.—As for the “White-clawed [the Lesser] Kestril” the only useful thing about it is its tail, which can be used for “imping.” In a wild state it preys on nothing but locusts and lizards.

In the country of Syria, on the way to Constantinople, I have observed this species nesting inside the rooms of houses, in the niches in the walls, and on the ledges[294] in the rooms. No one molests the birds. They fly in flocks[295] like pigeons. Whenever you see kestrils flying in a flock you may feel assured that they are the “white-clawed” species, for the black-clawed species never flies in flocks.

Training Greyhound Pup by means of the Common Kestril.—The Arabs of ʿUnayza and Shammar,[296] as I have myself witnessed, rear the nestling of the Common Kestril, and when it is “hard-penned,”[297] lure it with a lump of meat. As soon as it will somewhat come to this lure, they catch an antelope-rat or jerboa-rat, tie a cord to its leg, and fly the kestril at it. They next tie a long cord of ten or twelve ells in length to a rat’s leg, and then fly the kestril at it from a distance. After that they break one leg of a jerboa, and let it go in front of a two months’ old greyhound pup, and then cast off the kestril at it. The rat is taken after a few stoops. Next a jerboa is loosed in front of two greyhound pups three or four months old.[298] The pups start in pursuit, and the kestril is then cast off. At one time the pups make a dash, at another the kestril makes a stoop, till at last the rat is taken.

After killing a few rats with broken legs, a sound rat is released, a fine stick, four fingers’ breadth in length, having previously been passed cross-ways through the ears. This stick hinders the rat from taking refuge in a hole, for of course two-months-old pups cannot, unaided, overtake and kill a kangaroo-rat in the open country. Well, the rat is let go, and the kestril and the pups give chase. It is exactly like hawking gazelle with a chark͟h. After about thirty or forty stoops and dashes, the rat is taken.

The whole object of this play is to teach the pups, while growing up, to recognize the chark͟h;[299] so that should a hawk be flown at a herd of even a thousand gazelle, the hounds will chase none but the one at which the hawk is stooping. In puppyhood the hound has learnt that without the assistance of the kestril it cannot overtake an antelope-rat, and hence it has learnt to watch the hawk; and gradually it becomes so knowing, that instead of at once starting in pursuit of the gazelle-herd when it is slipped, it will fix its gaze skywards, and wait on the movements of the chark͟h.

FOOTNOTES:

[283] Dalīja or dalīcha.

[284] Dalīja-yi nāk͟hūn-siyāh, the (“Black-clawed”) Common Kestril: dalīja-yi nāk͟hūn safīd, the (“White-clawed”) Lesser Kestril. “Although the two species (the Common Kestril and the Lesser Kestril) are so closely allied, there can be no difficulty in discriminating the eggs, and we found that the Arab boys knew the difference between the two species at once, calling one the black-nailed and the other the white-nailed ‘bashîk’.”—Rev. H. B. Tristram’s Ornithology of Palestine; Ibis, 1859.

[285] Sār; I believe this is the common starling.

[286] Bushire is nearly the centre of the coast line of the warm desert tract of Fars.

[287] Vide Chapter XV.

[288] Wild ravens in India not only chase house-pigeons but will enter a dove-cot and kill them.

[289] For the use of a peregrine as a decoy vide Badminton Library volume, page 264.

[290] The best bait for a kestril is a mole-cricket.

[291] Wild peregrines and sakers will occasionally kill and eat kestrils and shikras. Trained hawks will also do so. Under a lagar’s eyrie, in a cliff, I have found the feathers of quite a number of kestrils. Major C. H. Fisher, in his Reminiscences of a Falconer (page 59), mentions that he once took a sparrow-hawk with a trained falcon.

[292] Presumably the birds would “crab,” and the eyess being tame would not let go on the approach of the falconer. More than once, had I had a butterfly net, I could have placed it over a wild peregrine that was engrossed in a fight on the ground with a trained hawk.

[293] Sār, “buzzard.”

[294] Of the Eastern Red-Legged Falcon (Erythropus vespertinus of Jerdon, and E. amurensis of Blanford), Jerdon writes:—“Although the adult male in its mode of colouration resembles the kestrils, especially the lesser kestril, yet the colours of the young bird and female approach more to that of the Hobbies....”

“Fellowes says that it is very common in Asia Minor, building its nests under the roofs and sometimes even in the interior of houses.”

Jerdon also says that the claws are “fleshy.”

Dresser, in the Birds of Europe, writes:—“In many Turkish villages (as, for instance, Turbali) the place swarms with these hawks (F. Cenchris: Lesser Kestril).... Its eggs are placed without any nest under the eaves on the clay walls of houses and stables....”

[295] In Kirman, Persia, in the beginning of April, 1902, a flock of Lesser Kestrils roosted for some days in the trees in the Consulate garden.

[296] Two hostile tribes that live in the Syrian desert. They are noted for their breed of horses.

[297] “Hard-penned,” i.e., hard-feathered.

[298] “... When the pups [greyhound] are three or four months old, their education commences. The boys drive out of their holes the jerboa or the rat called “boualal” and set the pups at them. The latter by degrees get excited, dash after them at full speed, bark furiously at their holes, and only give up the pursuit to begin another. At the age of five or six months they are assigned a prey more difficult to catch—the hare....”—The Horses of the Sahara and the Manners of the Desert, by E. Daumas. “McMaster says of its agility [the Indian Jerboa-rat or Kangaroo-rat—Gerbillus indicus]: ‘I have seen them when released from a trap baffle and elude dogs in the most extraordinary manner by wonderful jumps made over the backs, and apparently into the very teeth of their pursuers’.”—Mammalia of India; Sterndale.

[299] Chark͟h-shinās, adj.

CHAPTER XXVI
THE SHRIKE

Amongst the “black-eyed” birds of prey must be classed a small sparrow-like bird, grey and black in colouring. In the Kurdish language it is called bāzūrī, and in Persian ālā güzkina.[300] In size it is somewhat larger than a sparrow: the wings are dark: the eyes have a dark line of antimony:[301] the claws and beak are black, sharp, and powerful. When trained, it kills with ease sparrows and the small tisks[302] found in the wheat and barley, in Spring. It also comes well to the lure from a distance.

There are two species. One grey and black with the antimony line under the eyes, and one yellowish. The former is decidedly the better.[303]

FOOTNOTES:

[300] This is Turkish, not Persian. Persian Turks call the shrike ālā güzina also. In Shaw’s Turki Vocabulary (Appendix by Scully), Lanius Homeyeri, the Grey Shrike, is said to be called ālā g͟hurālāi, and Lanius arenarius, the Desert Shrike, boz̤ g͟hurālāi. The word ālā in Turki means “variegated” or “spotted.” In Lahore to Yarkand (page 182) the Brown Shrike, Lanius Cristatus, is said to be called urulia in Turki.

[301] Surma kashīda; antimony is applied by means of a needle to an Eastern’s eye, underneath the lashes of the under lids, and to the outer corners of the eyes.

[302] Tisk may be the Short-toed or Social Lark. In Shiraz, however, tisk is the name of a warbler like a white-throat, called in Kirman turnusk, and also barādar-i bulbul, “the nightingale’s brother.” Sisk and tirnisk are names that are probably both applied to the same warbler.

[303] The Indian Grey Shrike (Lanius lahtora), called in the Derajat laṭorā and mamālā, used to be trained in Dera Ismail Khan to catch small birds. A smaller species called mamālī—probably the Rufous-backed Shrike, the harwājī of Kashmir (Lanius erythronotus)—does not appear to have been trained. Of the former Jerdon writes:—“Mr. Philipps states that he has seen it capture small birds; and that in the North-West, it is occasionally trained to do so. He also relates that it is sometimes picketed to the ground, closely attached to a starling, the neighbouring bushes, twigs, etc., being well smeared with bird-lime. All sorts of birds come to witness the supposed fight and to separate the combatants, and many are captured by the limed branches.”

CHAPTER XXVII
MISCELLANEOUS NOTES

I have described to you the chief peculiarities of the “Yellow-Eyed” and the “Black-Eyed” birds of prey. I will now teach you a few matters that will make the masters of the Art of Falconry approve of this poor slave of the Shāh—May our souls be his sacrifice!

Term of Natural Life.—Know that the term of natural life of the birds of prey is considerable. In captivity they attain to twenty-five or thirty years at least—provided they remain in the possession of one man, a skilful falconer, and are not constantly changing hands. I myself kept a passage saker for twenty moults, and although it was not as good as it had been, still it continued to take quarry.

To distinguish the Age of a Hawk.—After a hawk has passed its fourth or fifth year, none can tell its age—except God and its owner. However, there are certain signs that mark a hawk of ten or fifteen years. First; it is short-winged.[304] Second; its feet and soles become full of wrinkles. Third; the two outside feathers of the tail, one on each side, called by the Arabs rudāfạ,[305] are shorter than the remainder, and the older the hawk the shorter these rudāfạ.[305]

Impossibility of Snaring Long-winged Hawks by Aid of a Lamp.—Never try to snare “black-eyed” hawks by aid of a lamp, for as soon as they see the light they will fly off. The “yellow-eyed,” however, with the exception of owls and birds that hunt by night, can be snared by means of a lamp, as will be described later.

Qualifications of a Falconer.—The first requisite in a falconer is patience. The second; that he be a sportsman and have a genuine love for his hawks, and fly them himself. Let him not say:—“I will take a lot of chukor; my master will reward me;” or, “Such and such quarry is unlawful for food (ḥarām); I won’t fly at it. What is the use of taking ravens and eagles? I’ll hawk chukor and seesee, and take them to my master; he’ll have them roasted, and will eat them in front of the fire and will reward me.” This ass is an ignoramus, and cares naught for hawks. Does he not know that if a short-winged hawk is flown on level ground, and wedded to large quarry such as ravens and duck and ruddy shieldrake and such-like, that it will in the hills with the advantage of gravity fly at the poor chukor all the better?[306] His object should not be money and rewards. He must be fond of hawks and hawking; he must know his business; he must be at heart a sportsman. The third; that he be good-tempered, pleasant-spoken, and of a cheerful and cheery countenance, so that the Good God may grant him his daily bread in abundance, and the quarry may come to him of its own accord. Let him be clean of hand, clean in person, and observant of the ordained prayers, so that God, who knows all, may not send him and his hawk home in the evening empty-handed. When mounting, the falconer should repeat the “Four Qul” and the “Holy Verse,” which is the “Verse of the Throne,”[307] and then exhale the breath on the person, so that the Munificent God may shelter from evil, him and his companions, guard his hawk from the persecutions of eagles, and send him home at night with a full bag and a happy heart. These are the requisites for a sportsman.

If He who made the game be not forgot,

The best of sport will ever be thy lot;

How can He be, in granting sport, unkind

If thou hold fast this fact within thy mind?

Fourth; if you lose your hawk and despair of its recovery, then with earnest sincerity repeat three times the Nād-i ʿAlī,[308] each time exhaling the breath towards the direction you imagine the hawk to be, and saying, “O God! by virtue of these words I adjure Thee to restore to me my lost hawk.” There is no doubt but that you will recover her instantly. This is my belief and my practice, and I have now in my possession two or three passage sakers seventeen or eighteen years of age. My son, these are my counsels: give ear to them, and bear them in your mind, and you will experience no ill.

FOOTNOTES:

[304] These remarks are presumably meant to apply only to hawks in captivity.

[305] Rudāfạ is the plural of radīf. In the text, here and elsewhere, the word is given as radāni, but as this is no correct Arabic “form,” it is probably a copyist’s error for rudāfạ. Vide also note [206], page 52.

[306] The author frequently uses the phrase māya dāshtan to indicate the advantage a hawk has when flying downwards from a height, as from the fist of a mounted man, etc. Chukor in the hills, and, I think, pheasants too, go down-hill when a hawk is after them. At any rate they are beaten for and flown at down-hill, the falconer taking his stand up-hill.

[307] For these four chapters and the “Verse of the Throne,” vide page 108, note [454]. The texts are first repeated and the breath is then exhaled on the breast, shoulders, and hands.

CHAPTER XXVIII
METHOD OF SNARING A WILD GOSHAWK WITH THE AID OF A LAMP

Method of Snaring a Goshawk with the Aid of a Lamp.—Should you happen to see a goshawk (t̤arlān) settle on a tree towards sunset, keep a careful watch on it from a distance till three or four hours after dusk, and see that it is not disturbed. Then take a long light pole of sufficient length to reach the hawk, and firmly bind to one end a horse-hair noose; a span’s distance below the noose fasten a lighted wax-candle. Take this pole and proceed alone towards the tree on which the goshawk is sleeping, till within thirty yards of it. Now, with noiseless steps, advance very slowly for ten yards; and then halt for seven or eight minutes: next extinguish the candle and remain in the dark for two or three minutes. Re-light the candle and advance ten yards more, very very slowly; and then halt for some minutes: then extinguish the candle and wait another two or three minutes in the dark. Re-light the candle, and, holding it aloft, advance stealthily to the foot of the tree.

Keep the lighted candle in front of the goshawk’s face. Now, my son, pull yourself together and keep your eyes open; let hand and foot be steady; don’t get flurried: think not you are after a goshawk. Say to yourself: “It is a leaf of a tree, or a barn-door fowl.” Don’t let your hand shake. This is the advice I give you: I cannot myself act up to it, nor do I believe that any falconer can. Well, hold the light[309] close to the goshawk’s breast. If she is asleep, head under wing, gently, ever so gently, stroke her breast with the horse-hair noose to awaken her, but have a care your nervous hand does not tremble but keeps the pole well away from her breast, or else she is off. Stroke her breast with the noose, ever so gently, till she withdraws her head from under her wing. Then pass the noose on to her neck, and pull her down to you.[310] On the spot, “seel” her eyes with blue[311] thread, using a fine needle,[312] and “mail”[313] her tightly.

FOOTNOTES:

[308] Nād-i ʿAlī for the Arabic Nādⁱ ʿAlīy^an (“call on ʿAlī”), a prayer to ʿAlī much used by Shiahs: an amulet on which the following prayer is inscribed, is also so-called:—

“Cry aloud to ʿAlī the possessor of wonders!

From him thou wilt find help from trouble!

He quickly removes all grief and anxiety!

By the Mission of Muḥammad and his own sanctity!”

Colonel J. P. Hamilton, in his Reminiscences of an Old Sportsman, writes: “The following superstitious ceremonies are mentioned in a book on falconry, supposed to be in the time of Edward the Confessor:—After a hawk has been ill and is sufficiently recovered to pursue the game, the owner has this admonition given to him: On the morrow tyde when thou goest out hawking, say, ‘In the name of the Lord, the birds of heaven shall be beneath thy feet.’ Also if he be hurt by the heron, say, ‘The lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has conquered. Hallelujah.’ And if he be bitte of any man, say, ‘He that the wicked man doth bind, the Lord at his coming shall set free’.”

In the middle ages, at the festival of St. Hubert, “dogs and falcons were brought into the church to receive the priest’s benediction, to the sound of horn and trumpet:....”: vide Science and Literature in the Middle Ages, by Paul Lacroix.

[309] Chirāg͟h in m. c. is often incorrectly used in the sense of ‘light’ instead of ‘lamp.’

[310]

“A praty craft to take an hawke that is brokyn owt of mew.

and all maner of fowlys that syt in trees if a man wyll.

“Looke Where an hawke perchith for all nyght: in any maner place. and softe and layserly clymbe to her With a sconce or a lanterne that hath bot oon light. in yowre hande and let the light be towarde the hawke so that she se not yowr face and ye may take hir by the leggys or oder Wise as ye lyst. and in lyke Wise all other maner fowle.”—Boke of St. Albans.

[311] That is with thread dyed with indigo: indigo is good for wounds.

[312] Hawk-catchers are careless about the manner they “seel” a hawk’s eyes: they generally use a coarse, large, needle and not infrequently a thorn.

[313] Qapāncha kardan, “To mail” a hawk: vide page 59, note [247].

XIV
PERSIAN FALCONER WITH INTERMEWED GOSHAWK
(FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY A PERSIAN)

CHAPTER XXIX
TRAINING THE T̤ARLĀN OR PASSAGE GOSHAWK

After treating the hawk as described at the end of the last chapter, keep her “mailed”[314] for an hour or two, and furnish her with jesses, leash, and halsband.[315] After two hours or so “un-mail” her, and carry her on the fist for about an hour, gently stroking her breast and wings the while. Then place her on her perch to rest.

Next morning at daybreak take her on the fist, and, as gently as possible stroking her breast and back,[316] carry her till four or five hours after sunrise. Use any device or trick you can to get her to feed; scratch her feet between the digits to induce her to eat. If she will eat, give her a small quantity of meat; but if she won’t, let her remain hungry till the afternoon[317] and then try again: if then she will eat, well and good; give her a full meal that she may remember it, and learn to look to you for food. If she won’t eat, on no account force meat down her throat, or this will become a habit with her. Again in the evening take her on the fist, her eyes being still seeled, and carry her for five or six hours,[318] stroking her and scratching her feet to induce her to eat. If still she won’t eat, it is of no consequence: set her down to rest for the night.

The next morning try her again in the same way: she will probably feed. However, some goshawks will sulk for three days, refusing all food. Don’t be alarmed if your hawk does so, for it is of no consequence;[319] she will eat on the fourth day.

XV
INTERMEWED GOSHAWK ON EASTERN PADDED PERCH (FROM A PERSIAN PAINTING)

A soon as she has learnt to eat freely with seeled eyes, whether on your fist or off it, slightly unseel them, i.e., loosen the seeling thread so that she may see a little out of the tops of her eyes,[320] and feed her well, so. The next evening open her eyes a little more. The third evening unseel her eyes completely, and sit near a lamp with your back to the wall that none may pass to and fro behind you. This evening she must be on your fist for four or five hours. After that, carry her into a dark spot and place her on her perch to rest.

Early next morning take her up, and sit, back to the wall, in some quiet spot, where people can be seen at a distance. Near noon, feed her up for the day, and then set her on a perch in a place where people cannot pass to and fro, except at a distance. Two or three hours before sunset, take her on the fist again and carry her till two hours after nightfall, i.e., much less than on the previous night.

In the morning take her up as before. To-day you must feed her twice, giving her less in the morning and more in the evening.

During these few days you must on no account give her feathers or casting, for she will, from fear, retain them in her stomach, and her temperament will be upset.

On the sixth night you must carry her till midnight, stroking her at frequent intervals. By this time she will have become perfectly quiet. Then carry her to her perch, and set her down to rest.

Early next morning take her on the fist, and carry her in a place where no one can pass behind you. Then take her to some quiet, private spot, and place a live chicken or pigeon in her feet, and get her to seize it. Then cut the chicken’s throat and give her a little to eat. Try and induce her to step on to your fist, either from the ground or from her perch.

During these few days that you are giving her live birds, feed her while close to a hound,[321] so that she may get accustomed to the presence of such dogs. Tie a long cord to the leash, and placing her on an assistant’s fist induce her to fly a few paces to your fist. Do not give her live pigeons and chickens every day or she will learn to come to your fist only for the “pelt,”[322] and that is an error. Call her rather to plain meat so that, should you in the field not happen to have a live bird about you, she will, the moment you raise your fist, come readily to a meat-lure. There is no harm if you kill in her feet a live bird, say every eight or ten days.

When she is thoroughly trained to the lure, i.e., when she will without a “creance”[323] come with eagerness to your fist, starting without hesitation from any spot where you may place her, cast her on the ground and play with her so as to teach her to run round and round you, so that when, in the field, she puts a quarry into a bush[324] she may run round the bush just as you have taught her to run round you, so that by this means the chukor she has “put in” may not trick her by making off from the far edge of the bush. The object of this instruction on the ground is to teach her to run round the bush and block the quarry after she has “put it in,” and then to rise and take up a commanding position on a tree[325] to watch the bush from thence, so that the partridge escape her not.

The more familiar you make your hawk, and the keener you make her on the lure,[326] the better. Now, if you have trained[327] your hawk in less than forty days, you have hurried her training, and “Hurry is of the Devil, but Deliberation is from God.”[328] Be not overhasty or you will spoil her. Such and such a falconer is sure to vaunt his skill, boasting that he has trained and flown his hawk in fifteen days. He has erred and blundered: he is not a lover of a hawk but a lover of the pot;[329] he is one who would not sacrifice one partridge for a hundred goshawks. As for you, your hawk must not be trained[330] in less than forty days.[331]

When your hawk is trained, that is when she is perfect at the lure and accustomed to hounds, horses, and mounted men, go, the day before you intend flying her at wild quarry, into the open country and lure her from a distance with a chicken two or three months old. As soon as she comes, let her take it, and feed her up on it for the day, giving her feathers and bones, that she may throw up her casting[332] early the following morning.

Although it is the custom of many Ostringers[333] to give to a goshawk, the day before she is to be flown, washed meat—that is meat cut small, cast into luke-warm water and given with a lot of water—still in my opinion the practice is wrong; for if a hawk be alternately given washed meat one day and flown the next, and habituated to this custom, the custom becomes second nature to her. Now suppose your friends and acquaintances, together with their falconers, some fifty persons in all, have settled to go for a ten days’ hawking trip to a certain spot where there is an abundance of chukor and other quarry, and have invited you to join them, you ought, during these short ten days, to hawk every day. However, your hawk will only give you five days’ sport, for you have habituated her to fly on alternate days, after she has been “set;”[334] she certainly will not now fly every day. Do not therefore teach her this custom. Give her the day before you go hawking, not washed meat but a chicken as I have said, for a chicken’s flesh has little nourishment and will “set” her as though she had been given washed meat. By giving her a chicken you will not accustom her to washed meat; and when on that ten days’ outing you will not have to stay at home and twiddle your thumbs.[335] Another objection to washed meat is that your hawk gradually loses condition.

To resume. After luring your hawk from a distance and killing the chicken under her and feeding her upon it, set her on the edge of some water: she will perhaps drink and bathe,[336] and oil,[336] and preen her feathers, and so be in fettle for to-morrow’s flight. One hour before sunset take her on the fist.

(My son, never, never, go up to a new hawk without meat in your hand.[337] Always approach a new, sitting hawk very, very slowly, and sit down to one side of her. Do not look at the hawk’s eyes, for a man’s eyes and face have a terrifying effect on hawks, especially when the gazer’s head is crowned with a Turcoman cap. Take meat in your hand and get her to jump from the perch to your fist, and let her eat one or two beakfuls: then carry her away. Falconer, listen: should you ever require to go to your hawk in the dark to take her on the fist, having no light with you, talk to yourself in a low tone the while; for she will recognize your voice and not be scared).

In short take her on your fist an hour before sunset, and carry her till an hour after dark. If you ride about with her on a quiet horse, so much the better. After that set her down to rest for the night.

(There should be a light in your hawk’s room all night that she may feel secure. It is a mistake to keep a goshawk in the dark, for goshawks are ever fearful.)

Very early next morning take up your own hawk, and be afield before the eagles have begun their daily questing.[338] You must not have with you more than one dog, well-mannered and well-trained. Let your hawk have a beakful or two[339] of meat to whet her appetite and make her keen. Now go into a good spot, mark down a chukor that will give a fairly easy flight,[340] and, saying “Oh God! my hope is in Thee,” cast off your hawk. My son, though falconers and sportsmen do not approve of this, yet I approve it: act as I instruct thee and thou wilt experience no ill.

Give ear to my teaching; my precepts obey:

In the training of hawks I have spent all my day.

A truly-trained bird can see from afar,

And choose for its quarry “Aquilla” the star.

If your hawk to fly rightly you wish and desire,

To God say a prayer, for He is thy Sire.

When the Portal of Hope is open to all[341]

Before God, on thy knees, with reverence fall.

Take care of thy bird, for God made it too,

The earth and the sea, the Heavens and you.

At any rate this hawk of yours has been perfected in every part of her training. Perhaps, too, she is fast. If, as she leaves your fist, she at once take the “chukor” in the air, on no account feed her up: give her only the brain. When by this act of hers you have discovered that she is fast, go and put up another “chukor.” If it rise close to you, let it get away a little distance before you cast off your hawk so that the partridge may not be taken, but be “put into” a bush. Now go with a very little meat in your hand, and dismount near the bush. Go very gently and take your hawk on your fist. Set on your dog[342] and make it put up the partridge out of the bush. As soon as the partridge rises, cast off your hawk. However she take it, whether at once in the air, or at a distance before it can “put in,” go slowly up to her and cut the “chukor’s” throat. If you want to fly your hawk again next day, give her one thigh, the heart, and the liver together with feathers as “casting.” If you don’t intend to fly her next day, give her in addition one side of the breast.[343] While feeding her, call the dog to your side that she may become accustomed to it.

If your hawk be a tiercel,[344] one thigh of the “chukor” with the head and neck and their bones will be a sufficient feed.

Now let us suppose that you are out with your friends on that ten days’ hawking expedition and that your hawk has daily killed five or six partridges without misbehaving herself, and that you have duly fed her up after the last flight, at the place she put in; do not suppose that now, after she is thoroughly entered to quarry,[345] you must necessarily during these ten days act so every day. Should you, for instance, now prefer to stay at home one day, lure her from a distance; but should you take the field, then at the last flight, when she has taken her partridge, give her the head and brain to eat. On the spot where she has killed or “put in,” place her on a stone and go yourself a long way off, and then lure her to you and feed her up. She has learnt how to kill partridges, and your present action is to prevent her forgetting the lure.

Let us suppose that the first day your new goshawk takes the partridge in the air you feed her up on it. Well, the next time you go out hawking, she will, on the partridge rising, try her best;[346] if she take it in the air, well and good, but if not, she will either return to you or give up; she will not continue to chase the partridge till she puts it in.[347] Many a good hawk have I seen spoilt like this through the gross ignorance of the falconer. A hawk cannot always take a partridge in the air: it should therefore learn to follow and “put in.”[347]

Though I have warned you once, I warn you again; do not go hawking chickens and house-pigeons,[348] for this is a mistake.

The goshawk falcon[349] is in every respect better than the tiercel. I have proved this by experience. Many falconers say that the tiercel is faster and more adroit, but these do not know that a hundred tiercels cannot do what one “falcon”[349] does. It appears to them that the tiercel is faster, because he is smaller and moves his wings with greater rapidity. But the falcon is larger and longer, and can, from the summits of high hills make a partridge “put in.” The tiercel cannot do this; it gives up half way. There is no question but that the falcon is a hundred degrees better than the tiercel,[350] either for quarry as small as the Quail, or for quarry as large as the Common Crane and the Great Bustard.[351]

My son, if you want to be counted by keepers of short-winged hawks a past master in the art, and to reap a full enjoyment from the sport, then train your goshawks,[352] sparrow-hawks, and shikras, etc., as I have described.

You should try to finish your day’s hawking before noon, so that you, your horse, your hawk, and your hound, may all rest till the next day. Hawking prolonged into the afternoon[353] is bad, because eagles and other birds of prey are then in search of their evening meal, and they will come down on you even from afar off. Should you lose your hawk in the afternoon, you have little time to search for her and also reach your house before nightfall. Should you not lose her, but manage to add a few more partridges to your bag, it is difficult to know the proper amount of food to give: the Winter nights are long and cold, and if you give her but a small feed she will lose condition;[354] if through fear of the cold you give a full feed, she, tired though she be, will not sleep; or if she sleep, she will not “put over”[355] nor digest[356] properly, and next day your friends will start off hawking before your hawk has cast[357] or got her appetite. These are the reasons I do not approve of hawking in the afternoon. If your friends force you to go out hawking with them in the afternoon, feed up your hawk after her first flight.

Do not overfly your hawk. She should fly no more than she can fly with delight to herself. Two or three flights are sufficient, and I consider it unlawful (ḥarām) to give her more than five flights.[358] If she be flown only two or three times, she will remain keen on her quarry.[359] This is the way to treat all goshawks and sparrow-hawks. Know that all these sporting-birds are naturally good, and the Wise God has created them all for the pleasure and delight of man; but it rests with the falconer to make or mar them. Except in two particulars, their good or bad points are the result of training. First, the falconer, however good, cannot make slow hawks fast, nor vice versâ. Second, he cannot increase the courage of his hawk. Now, although I have seen it stated in works on falconry[360] that to increase a hawk’s courage you should feed her for three days on pigeon’s flesh steeped in wine,[361] when if she have previously taken only partridges she will now take even cranes, yet this is not the case; the statement is falsehood, pure and unalloyed, for I have tested it: my hawk took no cranes—that was of minor importance—but what she did do was to fall sick. It is God, not the falconer, that bestows swiftness and courage. In these two matters the falconer is powerless.

God gave the hawk her courage and her speed,

Can’st thou thyself increase what He Himself decreed?

For instance, if ten horses be trained for a race,[362] one will win, and whenever you race them the same one will win—unless, of course, some accident happen, or the horse is out of sorts. So, too, with greyhounds and other animals. In short, courage and powers of flight have nothing whatever to do with the falconer: for these the Grace of God is necessary.

Now, first you must train your hawk to come eagerly to the fist from any spot where your voice reaches her. Further, you must not encourage her to become so bold and familiar with dogs that she lay hands on them;[363] for it may happen that one day when you have cast her at a partridge, a fox or a jackal crosses her path: if she has acquired a habit of binding to dogs she will fasten on to the fox or jackal, and so suffer instant destruction. Neither must you allow her to be too bold with small children, lest one day, while you are absent, your small boy come to her on her perch and she seize him, and none be there to hear his cries, and so he be blinded or killed. Both these accidents have happened frequently, i.e., a goshawk has killed a child, and a jackal a goshawk. This evil habit seldom exists in passage hawks,[364] qizil, or t̤arlān; it is generally the eyess qizil[365] that acts like this, and hence falconers are not very fond of the eyess.[365] In short, your hawk should stand somewhat in fear of all dogs except your own hound; it is better for her to remain in fear of strange hounds that might injure her, and of the dogs of the wandering tribes.[366]

Secondly, your hawk should make the partridge “put in” (or take it just as it is going to “put in”),[367] and then after circling round the covert two or three times take stand on the top of the covert till you arrive, when she should leave her perch and come to your fist. She should not fly off and leave the place where the partridge “put in,” else by the time you have followed her and recovered her, the partridge will have escaped.

Such is hawking with short-winged hawks in hilly country, that is, hawking “chukor” and “seesee”[368]. As for hawking in flat country, a goshawk will there take duck, geese, common cranes,[369] great bustards, ravens, hubara, stone-plovers,[370] saker falcons,[371] and even imperial sand-grouse,[372] quail, [373] pin-tailed sand-grouse,[372] and ruddy shieldrakes.[373] All this quarry—(pheasants[374] and black partridges[375] are excepted)—she can take at the first or second dash[376] only, otherwise she will fail in doing so.

If you come across any of this quarry in open country and desire to fly at it, then, if your hawk, by crouching and resting its breast on your hand and becoming rigid,[377] shows that she has a natural inclination for it,[378] be sure you take notice of the direction of the wind. With your hawk’s breast towards the wind,[379] gallop your horse towards the quarry. The horse must indeed move, but you must so hold and keep your fist that your hawk does not open her wings; for she must, while the quarry has still a foot on the ground, quit your fist like a bullet; she will then take the quarry in the air before it has got away ten yards. On no account cast your hawk off with her back to the wind, for this is dangerous. First, by casting her off back to the wind, her loins will be strained; and leaving your fist uncollectedly, she will fail to reach the quarry, and your falconer friends will jeer at you and at your action. Should you even manage to cast her off so close that it is as though you are giving the quarry into her hand, she and the quarry, when she “binds”[380] to it, will fall to the ground (i.e., if the wind be at all strong), and the quarry will, breaking away from her, not again be overtaken. Should your hawk even bind so firmly that, on falling, the quarry does not break away, still she will suffer for that folly, and will get injured or fall sick. It is the habit of all birds of prey, when within the distance of five or six spans of their quarry, to cease beating their wings, in order to get ready to seize it. Now if you cast off your hawk, breast to the wind, even though she cease to beat her wings for the last three or four feet of her flight, still by the help of the impetus gained by the cast, by your horse’s galloping, and by the beating of her own wings, she will reach and “bind” to the quarry and sportsmen will compliment you and commend your hawk. If, however, you cast her off up-wind of the quarry, the moment when, according to her nature, she ceases beating her wings on nearing the quarry, the wind will strike her loins and overturn her; and she will therefore fail to “bind.” Hence it is a law never to fly a hawk with her back to the wind: to do so is botchery. When, however, hawking partridges in the hills with a goshawk, or when hawking gazelles in the plains with a saker, the rule allows of exceptions. In the former case your hawk is cast off from a height, and with the aid of gravity[381] follows the partridge till it “puts in;” in the hills, too, the force of the wind is broken. In the latter case you have no choice but to fly your chark͟h or bālābān at gazelle from up-wind, for as soon as the falcon stoops and the greyhound arrives, the gazelle has no choice but to put its nose into the wind and to flee windwards.[382] If the wind is strong, the falcon, flying against the wind, will probably not overtake it; but if she does make sufficient headway to overtake it—which she may do with great difficulty—she will, while stooping and recovering and again rising high, lose ground and fall about a thousand paces behind. In the meantime the greyhounds are too blown[383] to seize the gazelle. For these reasons the gazelle must be flown at from up-wind;[384] this will also be explained later, in the chapter on the Chark͟h.

These observations do not apply to hawking chukor and seesee, for these “put in.” Still, it is better to fly at even these, from up-wind, whether in the hills or in the plains, for then the advantage is with the hawk.

When your hawk is thoroughly entered to chukor and seesee,[385] and never fails you, you should fly her in the plains at some of the quarry mentioned above; for flying a hawk in the plains, after she has been thoroughly entered to chukor and seesee, has several special advantages, though these are not commonly known to falconers. Many falconers fancy that if you fly your hawk at large quarry in the plains, thoroughly accustoming her to it, she will not thereafter take chukor and seesee. This is an error. Now a goshawk can only take duck and hubara and such-like quarry of the plains, at the first or second dash: if not taken at once such quarry will speedily outstrip the hawk. Therefore the hawk must, on level open ground, fly her fastest and strive her utmost at the beginning, and this habit soon becomes second nature. If a man wrestle with a famed wrestler, thereafter novices and ordinary people are to him as nothing.[386] So, too, it is with a hawk flown at large quarry. Even at the commencement, partridges are a mere nothing to her; but when, after acquiring the habit of swift flight by being flown in the plains, she is again flown in the hills with the additional advantage of gravity, her swiftness will astonish you; it will truly be something to see. You must, of course, not weary her by overflying, for by overflying you make her stale.[387] A second advantage derived from flying her in the plains, is that she necessarily sees a large number of buzzards, vultures, kites, eagles, and such-like birds, and so, becoming speedily familiarized to them, ceases to be in terror of them.

A third advantage is, that when she fails to take the quarry and “falls at marke,”[388] she will, on your riding up, readily rise and take stand on your fist, for goshawks have a natural dislike to resting on a flat surface; they love to perch on trees, hillocks, or rocks.

A fourth; your hawk learns to take every quarry at which she is flown: should you fail to find partridges you need not return with an empty bag, tired and cross; for you can fly her at hubara, ravens, stone-plovers, etc., instead.

My son, teach your hawk the habits that I have described. Also accustom her to drink freely;[389] accustom her after each meal to drink a beakful or two. Always, about two hours after dark, offer her water in a cup held close in front of her; try to induce her[390] to take a few beakfuls, as by so doing she will digest easily.[391] Accustom her to drinking at least two or three times a day, either from a cup or from a stream. If she drink only one beakful, it is an advantage, especially at night. Drinking keeps her in health.

Now my son, know that it is the pride and glory of a falconer to train long-winged, not short-winged hawks; for the natural quarry of the former is rats, black-breasted sand-grouse, pigeons, duck, and small birds; but when falcons fall into the hands of a competent falconer, they are required to take common cranes, geese, and gazelles. If the falconer be not skilled, how can such quarry be taken by the falcon? As for goshawks, their natural quarry in the hills is partridges and pigeons, and in the hands of the falconer they do no more than kill partridges: it is merely incumbent on the falconer to familiarize them with horses, dogs and men, so that after “putting in” they may take stand and not make off.

Now I, the slave of the Royal Court, was once in attendance on His Majesty (may our souls be his sacrifice) in the hills of (——?)[392] in Māzenderān. One day a flight of snow-cock[393] rose suddenly in front of the August Presence of the King of Kings. I had on my fist a female t̤arlān of two moults. The moment the covey, consisting of twenty or thirty birds,[394] rose, I cast off my hawk, and she promptly took one cock in the air.[395] I hastily dismounted and gave her the brain only; I did not feed her up. Meanwhile the “Qibla[396] of the Universe” dismounted and became busy with his breakfast. I took the snow-cock into the Presence: it was examined and I was complimented. I remounted and rode on a short distance, when three more snow-cock rose in front of me. I flew the same hawk and took one,[397] and the Shāh had not finished breakfast when I bore it into the Presence. He applauded me and bestowed on me a shawl, for it is most unusual for a goshawk to succeed in taking a snow-cock. A goshawk may indeed take one straight away, in the air, just as it has risen,[398] but she cannot make one “put in,” for a snow-cock will fly for miles.[399]

FOOTNOTES:

[314] Qapāncha kardan, “to mail” a hawk: vide page 59, note [247].

[315] Pācha-band, “jesses.” In the Derajat, Panjab, the term is restricted to cotton or silk jesses, fitted with “varvels” (rings); vide page 18, note [83]. Shikār-band “leash;” but in the Derajat the thin leather thong that attaches the swivel to the jesses is so called: vide page 18, note [83]. For “halsband” vide page 3, note [31].

[316] Much stroking on the back is to be avoided, as it removes the oil that makes the back feathers impervious to rain.

[317] ʿAsr, that is two and a half hours before sunset; the time mid-way between noon and sunset.

[318] In countries under Muslim rule the watch is set daily at sunset, which is 12 o’clock.

[319] If a newly caught goshawk tear off bits of meat and cast them aside, she should be tried with a small bird with the feathers on.

[320] Bāla-bīn, adj.

[321] T̤ūla, vide p. 89, note [366].

[322] T̤uʿma-yi zinda hama rūz bi-dast-ash na-dihī tā pay-i kushta bi-dast-i tu bi-yāyad: I think the meaning of the author has been rendered. Kushta, the “pelt” or the dead quarry, especially when used as a lure.

[323] “Creance,” vide p. 38, note [162].

[324] Buna, “bush,” is used by the author for the quarry put into the bush. In Urdu Bāz ne buna kiyā = “the goshawk has put in the quarry,” and Buna uṭhā,o = “beat out the quarry that has been put in.” A bird has “put in” when it is forced to take refuge in a bush, covert, etc., etc.

[325] “Note, use to call her from the grounde furst, and that will make her fall at marke in the plaine felde otherwyse she will to a tree.”—A Perfect Booke for Kepinge of Sparhawkes: Edited by Harting. For “Fall at marke,” vide p. 92, note [388]. For remarks on “taking stand,” vide “Notes on the Falconidæ used in India in Falconry,” by Lieut.-Colonel E. Delmé Radcliffe (pp. 20-1). Natives of the Panjab do not consider “taking stand” a vice.

[326] Garm-i t̤alab.

[327] Rasānīdan, Tr.

[328] A tradition of the Prophet.

[329] Bāz-dūst nīst; kabk-k͟hwur ast.

[330] Rasīdan, Intr.

[331] Forty days: this is an axiom amongst Indian falconers also, who usually try and make out that the “watching” occupies forty days, and that they must therefore have extra assistants, blankets, oil, etc., etc.

[332] T̤uʿmah, Ar. “meat, meal, food, etc.;” this word is frequently used by the author for “casting,” t̤uʿma andāk͟htan, P. “to cast.” A “casting” is fur, feathers, etc., given to the hawk with its food.

[333] Shikār-chī-yi zard-chashm, “Ostringer.” “An ostringer or austringer, etc., one who keeps short-winged hawks, especially the Goshawk.”—Harting. In the Boke of St. Albans the term is confined to those that keep “Goshawkys or Tercellis,” while “Those that kepe Sperhawkys and musketys ben called Speruiteris.”

[334] Ishtihā dādan, “to give an appetite” is by the author always used for giving washed, or rather wetted, meat.

[335] Ṣalavāt firistādan, i.e., pass the time telling the beads while saying “Oh God, bless Muḥammad and the family of Muḥammad.”

[336] Āb-bāzī kardan, “to bathe.” Rug͟han-kashī kardan, “to oil the feathers.”

[337] This was the practice of a certain Panjab falconer who had a great reputation for training goshawks. He never went empty-handed to a goshawk to take her on the fist, even after she was trained: he always took with him a bit of meat, about the size of a pea, concealed in his palm.

[338] Eagles are late risers and do not leave their roosting places till the sun has warmed the air, that is in the winter not till after eight o’clock. Peregrines leave their roosts while it is still dark.

[339] Ching, “beak,” but chang, “claw, talons, fingers, etc.”: ching zadan, “to strike with the beak, peck, etc.”

[340] Kabk-i munāsib-ī; this is I presume the author’s meaning. Munāsib, “fitting, suitable,” often has the meaning, both in India and in Persia, of “medium-sized, of average size.”

[341] At dawn the doors of Heaven are open and the Angels descend to fix each man’s daily portion. Morning prayers are accepted by God.

[342] T̤ūla rā hay zadan.

[343] Yak sīna = the bag͟hal of Panjab falconers.

[344] Jurra qūsh; vide page 25, note [107].

[345] Garm shudan.

[346] Yak zūr bi-parīdan mi-āvarad.

[347] Bi-buna burdan or—rasānīdan.

[348] Vide note [322], page 80.

[349] Qūsh-i tavār. The female of the goshawk used to be dignified by the title “falcon”: vide also page 25, note [107].

[350] The females of all species of hawks and falcons are, I think, faster and better-winded than the males, though the latter are probably more adroit.

[351] Tūīt̤ug͟hlī T. is explained by the author in more than one marginal note as being the mīsh-murg͟h or “sheep-bird:” tuit̤uglī, ta,īt̤uglī, dūīdāg͟h and t̤ūī are other forms of the word. (Persians that are not sportsmen often call the Egyptian or White Scavenger Vulture mīsh-murg͟h.)

[352] T̤arlān u qizil.

[353] ʿAsr, the time between noon and sunset.

[354] A hawk in just proper condition, if underfed, will, if the night be very cold, become thin in one night. In the Indian Spring, when the nights are temperate, I have known a saker falcon go up two ounces in weight in one night, from a slight overfeed of hubara flesh.

[355] A good Indian falconer would carry his hawk after dark till she had “put over” completely, first allowing her an hour’s rest or more. “Carrying,” with its constant shifting of position, not only causes a hawk to “put over” quicker, but induces it to digest and empty the bowel: on the fist she will “mute” thrice for every twice on the perch. After a hard day’s work, water should be offered her at night, especially if she has been fed on the rich flesh of the hubara: after a feed on hubara flesh, I have known some sakers drink two or three times between nightfall and midnight. If a hawk has been fed late and is to be flown early next day, it should be taken on the fist before sunrise (a lamp being lit in the room) and “carried,” the hawk being made to change its position frequently: this induces it to “cast” earlier than it would otherwise do. When hubara-hawking all day long in the desert for ten or fifteen days at a stretch, my falconers would carry the hawks from 3 or 4 a.m. till daybreak, and the hawks (peregrines or sakers) would be ready to fly by 8 a.m. (A hawk “puts over” when it takes down any portion of the meat from its crop into its stomach). “Putting over” quickly is the sign of a good digestion.

[356] Ṣarf kardan is properly “to eat,” but by it the author evidently means either to “put over,” or “to digest,” I do not know which. Qūsh gūsht-ash mī-shikanad P. and ʿat̤īn āpārir T. are the ordinary expressions for “the hawk is ‘putting over’.”

[357] T̤uʿma andāk͟htan, “to cast,” i.e., to throw up the casting in the morning. Vide page 82, note [332].

[358] It must be recollected that the quarry is the chukor partridge which is usually found in the hills, and five flights might represent a lot of work. With the grey partridge of India five flights would be nothing for a good goshawk.

[359] For Falcons—peregrines or sakers—five flights at hubara are sufficient, two in the morning and three in the afternoon: at heron or kite one flight.

[360] Bāz-Nāma: many of these Persian MSS. exist both in Persia and India.

[361] The Boke of St. Albans gives the following “Medecyne for an hawke that has lost here corage”:—“Take Oyle of spayne and tempere it With clere Wine. and With the yolke of an egge and put therein befe. and thereof geue to youre hawke. v. morcellis. and then set hir in the sonne. and at euen fede hir With an old hote coluer. and if ye fede hir thꝰ iii tymys that hawke Was neuer so lusty nor so Joly before. as she Will be after and come to hir owne corege” (page 26). In Bert’s Treatise of Hawks and Hawking, 1619 (page 101 of Harting’s Edition; reprinted by Quaritch) there is a somewhat similar receipt for a “Hawke that hath lost her courage and ioyeth not, or is lowe in flesh.” For “turning tayle” and “to bring stomake,” A Perfect Booke for Kepinge of Sparhawkes or Goshawkes (written about 1575 and first printed from the original MS. by J. E. Harting in 1886), says, “stepe her meate in claret wyne and the yoke of an egg and nyp it drye and so give it, and it will bring her stomake.”

[362] Sawg͟hān kardan, “to train for a race.”

[363] “I haue knowne some of them likewise that would sooner catche a dogge in the field then a Partridge, and although she had flown a Partridge very well to marke, and sat well, yet so soone as a dog had but come in to the retroue, she would have had him by the face.”—Bert, Chap. V.

[364] The translator’s experience is that passage goshawks are particularly afraid of small children. Indian falconers account for this by saying that the hawk mistakes children for its jungle-enemies the monkeys.

[365] Qizil-i āshiyānī, “eyess goshawk:” qizil is the local race that breeds in Persia.

[366] T̤ūla is a hound, or any sporting dog except a tāzī or greyhound: sag (gen. term), any ordinary pariah or other breed of dog: sag-i īlātī, “a dog of the breed kept by wandering tribes;” it is large and fierce. T̤ūla also means “a pup.”

[367] The author probably means that the hawk should chase till the partridge puts in; that if she is fast and taught to take quarry quickly in the air, she will acquire the habit of only doing so, and will consequently give up whenever she sees that the quarry is fast enough to take her to a distance.

[368] Kabk u tīhū.

[369] In India geese and common cranes are, by means of a stalking bullock, sometimes stalked while feeding, and thus taken by a goshawk.

[370] Chāk͟hrūq, “stone-plover.”

[371] Bālābān, “passage saker.”

[372] Vide page 12, note [59].

[373] Buldurchīn T. “The Common Quail.” Anqūd, “The Ruddy Sheldrake.”

[374] Qarqāvul (Phaseanus colchicus).

[375] Durrāj, the Francolin or Black Partridge of India.

[376] Bi-yak sar du sar agar girift fa-bi-hā: sar, “attack, stoop, etc.”

[377] Māt shudan, is “to be astonished, perplexed; to become rigid from astonishment:” the author applies this idiom more than once to the goshawk, apparently in the last sense.

[378] Lieut.-Colonel E. Delmé Radcliffe states that a goshawk he owned and sent to a friend afterwards killed grouse on the Scottish moors. He also says that an exceptional goshawk tiercel he once had took “storks, white-necked storks (M. episcopus), bar-headed geese (A. indicus), sheldrakes (C. rutila), kestrels, rollers (C. indica), white-eyed buzzards (Poliornis teesa), on one occasion a merlin (L. chiquera), pigeons and other exceptional quarry without number, and yet was in the constant habit of catching partridges and small quarry;” (page 19).

[379] Tu sīna-yi qūsh ra bar sīna-yi bād bi-dih.

[380] “To bind,” is to seize and hold on to the quarry, especially in the air, while “to ruff” is to stoop at and hit the quarry, making the feathers fly: vide Bibliotheca Accipitraria, by Harting.

[381] T̤arlān rā māya-dār az bulandī mī-andāzī.

[382] —ki dimāg͟h-ash rā bi-bād dihad va rū bi-bād farār kunad.

[383] Nafas-i tāzī mī-sūzad.

[384] Bālā-yi bād.

[385] Garm bi-giriftan-i kabk u tīhū shud.

[386] Mis̤l-i āb-k͟hurdan, “as easy as drinking water.”

[387] Sar-i dimāg͟h būdan, “to be in the humour for, to be keen on.”

[388] “To fall at marke,” “to alight and there await the owner.”

[389] Āb-k͟hur kardan.

[390] With a new hawk it is a good thing to attract her attention by flicking the water in the cup with the finger.

[391] —tā bi-istirāḥat ṣarf bi-kunad.

[392] Place illegible.

[393] Kabk-i darī, Tetraogallus Caspius.

[394] —galla-yi kabk-i darī ki bi-qadar-i bīst si dāna būdand.

[395] Dast-raw dar havā girift.

[396] Qibla is the point to which Muslims turn in prayer. Applied to the Shāh it signifies that he is one to whom all bear their requests.

CHAPTER XXX
“RECLAIMING”[400] THE PASSAGE SAKER

Should a passage falcon with “seeled”[401] eyes come into your possession the first thing is to examine it carefully and classify it. Having decided on the race to which the falcon belongs, fit her with some suitable name such as Ṣult̤ān, Ẓarg͟hām, Fāris, Shabīb, Ḥabīb, Maḥbūb, Shahāb, Badrān, etc.[402] Next fit her with an old hood that is soft and easy, one that will not, by hurting her eyes, make her hood-shy.[403] Let her eyes remain seeled under the hood for three days. Every day when you feed her, call her name. On the third or fourth day, i.e., as soon as she has learnt to feed freely, which she will show by searching eagerly for food when you mention her name, unseel her eyes about two hours to sunset, and then rehood her. Call her name, and when she bends her hooded head in search of food, give her a mouthful or two. Then stroke her on the breast, the thighs, and the wings, and again remove the hood that she may see daylight, and quickly replace it. Continue this treatment till half an hour before sunset. Then set her down and leave her till after the evening prayer.[404] Then again take her on the fist and sit near the lamp, with your back to the wall, so that none may come behind you and your hawk. Again call her name, and when she lowers her head reward her with a mouthful. Stroke her as before. Carry her thus for three or four hours. After that, set her on her perch for the night, fastening the hood tight that she may not cast it during the night.

XVI
ARAB FALCONER WITH YOUNG SAKER ON PADDED AND SPIKED PERCH

Early next morning, before sunrise, take the hawk on your fist; sit with a few friends near a lamp or a fire sipping your tea or coffee, and perform your prayers. Every now and then remove the hood for about five seconds, and then rehood. For about three days feed her under the hood, calling her name. Now at early sunrise,[405] on the morning of the third or fourth day, take just sufficient meat for one meal; well wet your hawk under her wings,[406] wash her nostrils, letting a little water enter them, and set her perch[407] in a quiet place in the sun where none can disturb you, and seat yourself near on the ground. Now remove the hood and handle her a little, stroking her breast, head, and neck; then slowly carry your fist close to her perch and induce her to step on to the perch of her own accord.[408] Hold the leash in your hand, and occasionally draw it tight gently to induce her to “rouse.”[409] She is sure, after one of these rousings, to commence oiling her feathers.[410] When you see that she has carried her beak to the oil-bottle[411] near her tail, preparatory to oiling her feathers, you must sit absolutely still; do not pull the leash; keep a guard even over the way you breathe, and let her oil her feathers to her heart’s content.

If she oils her feathers very quickly and then rouses, it is a sign she is well-manned.[412] If after oiling and rousing, she a second time applies her beak to her oil-bottle, it is a sign that she is both well-manned and well-plucked.

Let her remain on the perch a little longer while she preens[410] and straightens[413] her feathers and again rouses with vigour. Immediately she rouses, take in your hand the meat you have ready, and calling her name, induce her to step on to your fist, and reward her as before. Do this a third time, but this time try and induce her to jump to your fist the length of her leash or less. Then call her name and reward her by a good feed. Now hood her and place her on the ground. Call her name and strike on the ground with your hand, in front of her.[414] If she advances even two finger breadths towards the sound, it is sufficient. Reward her by letting her pull and eat two or three mouthfuls of meat, and while she is eating pull off the hood and let her finish her meal and enjoy herself. She will by this means learn that no one wishes to harm her, and that being tame is not at all a bad thing. After feeding her take a small piece of wool, or cotton-wool, and clean her nostrils.[415] Then fasten the braces of the hood tight, and set her on her perch in the shade.[416]

FOOTNOTES:

[397] Yak dāna.

[398] Agar bi-dast raw qūsh girift fa-bi-hā.

[399] A farsak͟h or farsang; “a parasang,” about 3¾ English miles. The author uses the word merely to signify a long distance.

[400] “Reclaim,” to make a hawk tame, etc.

[401] Chashm-dūk͟hta, “with seeled eyes”: vide page 14, note [70].

[402] Ẓarg͟hām is one of the many Arabic words for a “lion”: Shabīb, “of brilliant youth”: Ḥabīb and Maḥbūb, “loved” and “beloved”: Shahāb, “meteor”: Badrān, an old Persian word, seems to mean “wicked.” All these names, however, are masculine.

[403] Bad-kulāh, “hood-shy.”

[404] The time limit for the evening prayer expires half an hour after sunset.

[405] The author is probably writing of October in the vicinity of either Bushire or Baghdad.

[406] Presumably as in India, water would be blown in a spray out of the mouth and with force, the falconer’s hand being raised and lowered to make the falcon expand her wings and expose the soft feathers underneath. The outer feathers are so arranged as to be a protection against rain, and it is not easy to soak them.

[407] The perch would probably be of the Arab pattern and consist of a pad on an iron spike; vide page 95.

[408] Hawks, even those that have never yet been unhooded since they were caught, know their own perches and have preferences.

[409] “To rouse”; said of a hawk when she makes her feathers stand on end and then shakes herself violently.

[410] Rūg͟han-kashī or rūg͟han-gīrī kardan, “to oil the feathers.” Par-k͟hūn or par-kashī kardan, “to preen and straighten the feathers.”

[411] Mudhun, “oil-bottle,” called in the Boke of St. Albans the “note” (nut?).

[412] “To man” a hawk is to make it tame and accustomed to the presence of human beings.

[413] K͟hadang kardan, lit. “to make straight like an arrow.” According to the Boke of St. Albans a hawk “reformith” her feathers when she straightens them without oiling them.

[414] In the Kapurthala State, sakers that were to be entered to kite were trained in this manner. The hawk, excited by being fed, was hooded and placed on the ground. Then, the lure being banged on the ground, it was taught to snatch at it (in the dark), and rewarded when it “bound” to the lure. The first live kite given as a “train” was presented to it in this manner, i.e., the hooded hawk was induced to “bind” to it as to the lure and was duly rewarded. The hood was then removed and perhaps a little more meat presented through the kite’s feathers. The kite was then forcibly removed and thrown to the distance of one or two feet, and as soon as the hawk bound to it, it was fed up on a fresh warm bird. The eyes of the kite were seeled, its claws tied up, and a string was of course fastened to its leg.

[415] A tame hawk’s nostrils get choked up with blood and dust. Eastern falconers are generally particular about keeping the nostrils clean. One of the advantages of “tiring” is that it induces a flow of water that keeps the nostrils clean. “‘Tiring,’ s., any tough piece (as the leg of a fowl with little on it) given to a hawk when in training to pull at, in order to prolong the meal and exercise the muscles of the back and neck.”—Harting.

[416] The mid-day sun would be too powerful at that time of the year.

CHAPTER XXXI
ANECDOTES OF A BAGHDAD FALCONER

Anecdotes of a Baghdad Falconer.—There is a well-known story of a famous falconer of Baghdad, named Sayyid Adham. For a long time he was blessed with no offspring, but at length the Lord of the World bestowed on him one son. At the time of our story, the boy had arrived at the age of two years, and had conceived a great affection and fascination for a certain bālābān, the property of his father.

A hawk-catcher[417] had captured a fine bālābān-i aḥmar-i shāmī, a young passage falcon, and had carried it as a “present”[418] to Dā,ūd, the Pasha of Baghdad.

Sayyid Adham, the Grand Falconer,[419] was summoned and the hawk made over to him with directions to train it to gazelle. He took it to his home, named it “Meteor,” and unseeled its eyes on the third day.

In the morning, he was seated at the edge of the sunshine,[420] his new hawk preening her feathers, etc., in the manner I have just described. He was, of course, watchful that his unmanned hawk should not be suddenly scared; for you must know that, should a new hawk be suddenly scared, it is difficult to efface from her memory[421] the remembrance of the fright, and she is perhaps spoilt for ever after. While the hawk was engaged in her preening, Sayyid Adham was suddenly horrified to see his small two-year-old son toddling towards him. Quietly intervening himself between the boy and the hawk he beckoned to the former to come to him. As soon as the child came up to him, he deftly took his head under his arm and kept it there till the hawk, having finished her toilet, was fed and rehooded. He released his son and found that the poor child had been suffocated:—

To save his hawk from starting in alarm

He seized the child and thrust him ’neath his arm,

And pressing tight and tighter in his dread,

He killed the boy by crushing up his head.

Though I myself never saw the Sayyid,[422] I was well acquainted with his immediate descendants. In training bālābān to gazelle they had no equal, and were justly proud of their skill. They used to pride themselves on the incident narrated above as being a proof of their father’s devotion to sport.

Bet with the Pasha.—It is also well known that Sayyid Adham once laid a wager with the Pasha of Baghdad that he would, within twelve days, fly at gazelle, with success, a certain newly caught bālābān. He did so; on the twelfth day, in the presence of the Pasha, the bālābān took its first gazelle in noble style, and the Sayyid his wager. Only a falconer knows the difficulty of taking a wild gazelle with a passage falcon within twelve days of its capture.[423]

Concerning these two matters God is the Knower[424]—but all the old men[425] of Baghdad bore constant testimony to their truth.

FOOTNOTES:

[417] Ṣayyād, Ar., as comprehensive a word as shikārchī; vide page 54, note [216].

[418] Pīshkash, “present,” a polite word for “sale.” The Pasha would give him a “present” in return. Such is the etiquette.

[419] Qūsh-chī Bāshī.

[420] Bar-i āftāb, i.e., in the shade (or half in the shade), but close to the sunshine.

[421] “... And thereby catch some sudden fear, which at the first you ought to be careful to prevent, for it is hard to work that out again which she is suffered to take at the first, and most commonly she will be subject to it ever after, whether it be good or evil.”—Latham.

CHAPTER XXXII
TRAINING THE PASSAGE SAKER TO GAZELLE[426]

Training the Passage Saker to Gazelle.—Procure the head of a freshly-killed gazelle. Excite your hawk’s appetite by calling her name, and then remove her hood that she may instantly jump from your fist to the head. Let her tear off and eat two or three mouthfuls of flesh; then seize the gazelle-head and agitate it, so that the excited and hungry hawk may “bind” the tighter. After this let her feed a little. You must practise her daily in this manner, twice or thrice by day, and twice by night. Each morning set aside the exact amount of meat that she should receive in the twenty-four hours, and feed her from that, otherwise in the irregular feedings you will lose count of the quantity she has eaten, and will in consequence overfeed her. After making her play with the head, and after giving her to eat the quantity fixed for her, remove her, and hood her, and carry her off to the bazar.[427]

In the bazar sit in some spot with your hawk’s back to the wall, so that nothing can come behind her. Now remove her hood that, by viewing the varied throng of men and horses, she may rid her of her natural fear. Nay, more than this; you must give your man a bit of meat the size of a pea and let him, as he passes, hand it to her, so that she may look with the eye of expectation at each passer-by and say to herself, “Here comes some one with meat for me.” Now hood her and “carry” her. Never for one moment let her be off the fist.[428] The Old Masters have ruled that the falconer may, when seated on the ground, place his hawk on the point of his knee,[429] but that with this exception she must know no other perch than his fist. Great stress have they laid on the observance of this rule: “Break it,” they have said, “and let your hawk go wild.” Do thou act likewise, my son, and keep thy hawk ever on thy fist. During the twenty-four hours, she will indeed get four or five hours’ sleep.[430]

XVII
YOUNG GAZELLE

An hour after nightfall, make her as before “play” with the deer’s head. Do this by lamp light and while in the company of your friends. Let her eat on the head a little meat, a quantity about the size of a filbert. Then take her up and carry her. At one time unhood her and place her on her perch in front of you; at another shake her jesses to arouse her and induce her to “rouse,” and look about, and take notice. Now after her preening, hood her and take her on the fist. Anon call her name while she is hooded, and reward her response by a morsel of meat, so that she may thus learn to connect her name with food. In short, you must till four hours after nightfall, keep her on your fist or on your knee, in a crowded room where people come and go continually.[431] Just before you retire for the night take her up, carry her near a lamp and make her play with the gazelle-head, agitating it well. If the head has no meat on it, have a few small bits of other meat ready, and place them on the gazelle’s eyes in such a manner that the hawk may of her own accord pull out the meat and eat it. Hood her while she is still “binding” to the head, and draw tight the braces[432] of the hood, so that there is no possibility of the hood coming off during the night; then remove her and replace her on her perch, and leave her for the night. The remembrance of the gazelle-head and of her food will remain in her mind, and keep her keen and excited for another hour. She will not sleep at all, or if she does, it will not be for more than two hours.

Rise at daybreak[433] and take her on your fist, for she must not be allowed to even try to “cast”[434] while her hood is on, and if she be hindered from casting she will fall sick. Hence trouble yourself and relieve her.

To comfort friends, discomfort do not dread:

Strive that the good call blessings on thy head.

[The author here cites some copy-book maxims on early rising: these are not translated.] ... Lastly, by early rising you will be in the field before the eagles are on their prowls.[435]

After she has “cast,” proceed to feed her on the head, and to “carry” her in the bazaar, etc., etc., as on the previous day; and continue this treatment till she is thoroughly trained to the gazelle-head.

Now as soon as she thoroughly understands and is keen on the gazelle’s head, procure a live fawn and bind firmly to one of its hind[436] legs an iron ring; then take a fine strong cord about twelve yards[437] long, pass one end through this ring and tie it to the opposite foreleg.[436] Next, with fine cord, bind between the fawn’s ears a lump of tough meat, one to two pounds[438] in weight.

In the morning call your hawk first to the dead head as before, agitating it well, etc., and hood her on the head. Now produce the live fawn and make it lie down. Call your hawk by name and then remove her hood. In accordance with her daily and nightly teaching she will at once “bind” to the meat on the fawn’s head.[439] You must instruct your assistant, who has hold of the fawn’s tether, to hold his hand high, so that the fawn cannot toss or shake its head. Let your hawk tear a mouthful or two of meat and then remove her. Let her fly and “bind” to the meat on the fawn’s head a second time, and let her eat a little of it. Then hood her and remove her, and handle her, etc. (You must so feed her that she will be fit by the evening to be again flown at the dead head and the live fawn.) Now carry her to the house and wash her nostrils with a little luke-warm water. Remove her hood and let her preen and rouse till evening.

In the evening repeat the morning’s lesson and do this for three days. On the second and third day, however, after making the fawn lie down, you must get your assistant to drag it slowly in this position on the ground. Then while it is moving you must fly her at it, at the “crouching” fawn.

On the fourth day you must fly her at the fawn standing. First call her, in the morning, to the dead head and play with it, etc., etc., as on previous occasions. Now place the duly prepared fawn in a standing position in front of you. Fly your hawk at it as before, but instruct your assistant that the moment the hawk “binds” he must pull the cord and cast the fawn. Repeat this lesson in the evening.

You must be careful during these lessons that you do not overfeed your hawk and make her too fat. To avoid such an accident, you must, each morning, weigh and put aside the exact quantity of meat she is to be given during the day. As for the meat on the fawn’s head, it must be so tough that your hawk can only, with difficulty and delay, tear off and swallow a small mouthful: on no account must it be the tender meat from the backbone.[440]

In short you must first fly your hawk three days in the manner described, i.e., at the “crouching” gazelle, and then three days at the standing gazelle. Next you must fly her three days at the gazelle in motion, its head being still garnished with meat. The moment the hawk “binds,” the cord must be pulled and the gazelle made to fall. Fly her twice in the morning and twice in the evening.

Next, after this nine days’ training, you must instruct your assistant to drive the deer in front of him at a quickened pace, he himself running behind. When the gazelle is about twenty paces distant, you must let go your hawk. As soon as the hawk reaches and “binds,” your assistant must pull the cord and cast the gazelle as before. Give the hawk a little meat, hood her, remove her, and then fly her a second time from a rather longer distance; feed her on the head, hood and remove her; but you must not give her so much meat that she will not be fit to fly again in the evening. For three days you must fly her at the driven fawn, in the manner just described; but every day increase, by twenty paces, the distance from which she is cast off at the fawn.

Now, during this twelve days’ training, you must gradually decrease the size of the lump of meat that is bound on to the live fawn’s head, so that at last no meat is visible, i.e., you must bind on the fawn’s head only a small bit of dry hard meat the size of a filbert, or a portion of the dried neck of a chicken.

You must next, taking the same poor fawn that you have been using all along as a “train,”[441] go out into the open country. The tether must be removed from the fawn’s leg, and the fawn must be in the keeping of your falconer, who should be mounted, and at a distance from you of say a hundred paces. First you must call your hawk to the same old dead and dried gazelle-head, agitating it well as before. While your hawk is “binding” to it in a state of hungry excitement, rehood her. With you there must be a quiet and obedient greyhound. Now order your mounted falconer to release the fawn with its head to the wind, and to gallop after it. You, having meanwhile mounted, must now unhood the hawk.

Now at this point there is an accident to be guarded against, an accident that often happens at this stage of the training. A plucky impetuous hawk, suddenly unhooded, may in her excitement bind to the head of the horse[442] on which you are mounted; therefore you must keep your eyes fixed on those of the falcon, and release her only when you perceive that she has spied the fawn and intends flying at it.[443]

As soon as the falcon has ten yards’ start of you, slip the greyhound[444] after her. The falcon will arrive, stoop at and bind to the fawn’s head, and the greyhound will come up and pull down the fawn. You must make in, secure the fawn’s legs, and cut its throat. Let your falcon tear the eyes and tongue a little (for that small bit of dried flesh on the head contains no reward), and then cut the fawn’s throat and feed her up.[445] Give her only such a quantity of flesh that at sunset she will still have in her crop[446] a quantity of meat the size of a walnut. Hood your falcon and return home.

The dead gazelle should be tied under the belly of a horse, and while riding home have the horse led in front of you. Twice, on the way, remove the hawk’s hood that she may view the gazelle and recognize that that was her quarry, and that from the flesh of that quarry she was fed.[447]

When you reach home, with warm water cleanse your falcon’s nostrils from blood, and wash off any blood stains from her feathers. Unhood her and let her “rouse and preen.” After her preening, take her up, hood her, and carry her till sunset. (You must now no longer call her in the evening to the dead gazelle’s head as on former evenings, for her training is near its completion.) Then set her down[448] and let her rest till the morning.

Now, before dawn, take her up so that she may cast while on your fist. Take a sīr[449] or less of good lamb and wash it well in warm water until it becomes bloodless and white. To-day the hawk need not be lured or called: she should be fed on her perch. If your hawk is fat, give her at sunset, as a “casting,” a little lamb’s wool well wetted: if lean, give her chicken feathers, or a little of the skin and fur of a gazelle. To-night, too, let her rest on her perch.

At dawn take her up, so that she may cast on your fist. About an hour after dawn, go out into the open country, taking with you a couple of quiet trusty greyhounds, as well as a brisk and lively gazelle. As before, call the hawk to the dead gazelle-head, agitating it as on previous occasions, etc., etc. The live gazelle should be released at a distance of five hundred paces, your assistant falconer galloping after it as before. The hawk should next be unhooded and cast off, and when she has flown about ten yards, the greyhounds should be slipped. The hawk will reach the gazelle and make one or two stoops before the greyhounds arrive and pull down the gazelle. You must make in quickly and secure the hind legs of the gazelle, so that the falcon, which will have bound to the gazelle-head, may blood herself well on its head and eyes.[450] Then, cut the gazelle’s throat and feed the hawk, giving her just so much food as will leave a quantity the size of a walnut still in her crop[451] at sunset. Her nostrils, etc., must be cleansed as before.

It is no longer necessary to keep the hawk hooded at night. Let her sleep unhooded.

You must now carry the hawk till two hours after nightfall and then set her down to rest.[452]

Take note of your hawk’s action when flown at these last two gazelles. If she makes three or four stoops at the head before binding, it is a sign that she has risen too much in condition: if she makes no stoop, but binds immediately on reaching, it is a sign that she is somewhat low in condition: if she makes one stoop only, or two stoops, and then binds, she is in her proper condition. Now if she be too fat, you must, by feeding her for two days on washed meat, lower her condition. If she be too low, you must fly her for two more days at a live gazelle, cast on the ground as on the first day, and as soon as she binds, you must stealthily substitute a freshly-slaughtered white lamb or white kid: or failing these a white chicken, placing the flesh of the chicken’s breast over the gazelle’s head. Feed up your hawk on the warm flesh. In two days she will regain her condition.

On the following day, again give washed meat[453] in the manner described above. On the day after, fly her at a gazelle that is as stout and brisk as a wild one. For this go into the open country as before, and first call your hawk to the head of the dead gazelle, agitating it as on previous occasions, etc., etc. This time the gazelle must be freed at a distance of a thousand yards, and your assistant must gallop after it. Cast off your hawk, and when she has got a start of ten or fifteen yards, slip the greyhounds, and gallop. Your hawk will make one or two stoops before the greyhounds arrive to pull down the gazelle. Make in, cut the gazelle’s throat, feed the hawk, and treat her in other respects as before.

On the day after this she must be keenly “set” by being given well-washed meat. At sunset give her a casting of feathers. On the following morning start from your house about two hours before dawn, and let your hawk throw up her casting while you are on your way to your destination. Repeating the four Qul and the verse of the Throne,[454] breathe the sacred words over yourself and over your hawk.

You must early that morning mark down a single half-tame gazelle.[455] After marking it down, call your falcon to the dead gazelle-head and agitate, etc., etc., as before. Then rehood her and go after the wild gazelle. The nearer you get to it the better. Unhood the falcon, and as soon as she spies the gazelle and shows an inclination to give chase, cast her off and shortly after slip the greyhounds.

Most probably you are wondering why you should not first slip the greyhounds and then cast off the falcon behind them. Now in this thought you err, for your falcon is probably full of courage and eagerness, and her training has so excited her that she might bind to a greyhound instead of to the gazelle, and so be spoilt for ever. For this reason you must first, when there is nothing ahead of her but the gazelle, cast off your hawk; and if it please God, with the help of the hounds, she will take it.

On no account must you, this first day, fly your hawk at two gazelle in company. You must either fly her at a single gazelle or at three together. Doubtless you wonder why you can cast her off at three gazelle but not at two? Let me explain.

Two gazelle together will be either two fawns that have grown up together after their dam has been destroyed by some accident, or else a couple, male and female; or possibly they may be dam and young; in any case domestic affection will prevent them separating. Your hawk, being still raw and inexperienced,[456] or rather quite ignorant,[457] will stoop, first at one and then at the other, while the greyhounds, being trained and experienced, will chop and change, always making for the gazelle at which the hawk stoops. Your hounds, tired out, will fall behind and “get left,” and the hawk, without their assistance being unable to take the deer, will get lost. Should you happen to regain sight of her, you will find it difficult to lure her; if successful in luring her, the labour of twenty days will have been lost. However, a single gazelle by itself is the same as the hand-train[458] that you have all along been training her to, and this whether it be a male or a female. If there are three gazelle together, your falcon will single out[459] one and stoop at it; and as soon as she does so, the remaining two will make off together in company, while the greyhounds will only follow the single remaining gazelle at which your hawk is stooping. Now be warned and do as I tell you.

Should the gazelle be taken, feed her up, etc., as on previous occasions and return home. Should, however, any accident happen; should your falcon get tired out and the greyhounds get “left,” or should an eagle appear, then act as before; or if you have the carcass of a gazelle with you, cast your falcon at its head and give her a very light meal, together with a “casting” from the skin; feed her so that she will “cast” early the following morning. If it please God she will not fail next morning. Should she, however, be again unsuccessful, you must feed her up well and let her rest for two or for three days.

On the third day, feed her on the head of a live gazelle, giving her only a light meal. On the fourth day, fly her in the open country at a single bright and active[460] gazelle, but so act that she cannot tell that the gazelle is not a wild one. Kill the gazelle under her and act as before.

The next day “set” her by giving her washed meat, and the day after fly her at a wild gazelle. She certainly—please God—will not fail.

FOOTNOTES:

[422] A Sayyid is a descendant of the Prophet.

[423] Had the falcon been netted (and its eyes seeled) some days before its twelve days’ education commenced, the matter would have been much simpler. Even though a hawk be not carried nor handled, the mere fact of having its eyes seeled has a quieting effect. It learns to eat from the fist, becomes accustomed to human voices, and loses a little of its high jungle condition.

[424] Vide note [78], page 17.

[425] Kummalīn, “old men, elders,” double Arabic plural of kāmil: inadmissible in Arabic and incorrect in Persian: perhaps a misprint for akmalīn.

[426] H.H. the late Mir ʿAlī Murād of Sindh used, at one time, to train lagaṛ falcons to ravine deer, but with what success I cannot say. He afterwards, for this flight, abandoned lagaṛs in favour of passage charg͟hs.

[427] In Urdu this is called bāzār kī mār.

[428] In the East, hawks, even when fully trained, are daily “carried” in the bazar. Keeping hawks unhooded on a block is a western practice that does away with the necessity for a certain amount of carriage. Most hawks, however, even “intermewed” hawks, are the better for much “carriage.”

[429] In this Eastern attitude the hawk is nearly on a level with, and is close to, the face of the falconer.

[430] Birds need but little sleep.

[431] In a Persian majlis, servants would constantly be coming and going with pipes and sherbet and coffee in the large bare room. In addition to friends and relations, there would be all the servants of these friends and relations.

[432] The Persian, unlike the Indian, hood, is opened and loosened by straps at the back.

[433] As the hawk was irregularly fed the previous day she would probably “cast” late. As a rule sakers do not “cast” as early as peregrines.

[434] Ṣafrā, Ar. “bile; the ‘casting’ of a hawk”: t̤aʿmah, lit. “food,” also means “casting.” The Turkish for a “casting” is tuk-samik, i.e., tuk, “feather,” and samik, “bone.” In a good Indian hood, the beak aperture is so cut away that a hooded hawk can, with a little difficulty, both eat and cast, but in the Persian hood a hawk cannot open its beak sufficiently wide to give exit to the casting.

[435] In the cold weather, eagles are late risers: they do not leave their resting spots till the sun is warm. A peregrine will leave its roosting place before it is light.

[436] Pā or pāy means any leg, but especially the hind leg. As the fore leg is here called qalam (shank), it is concluded the author means, by pā, “hind leg.”

[437] Dah zarʿ. The Persian zarʿ is about 40 inches.

[438] Nīm sīr, yak sīr: vide page 106, note [449].

[439] In a Persian manuscript written in India, it is stated that a goat may be substituted for the fawn, and that the head should be protected by a piece of leather with two holes for the horns. Vide also chapter XXXIV (page 122).

[440] Gūsht-i pusht-i māza, P.; this term occurs also in Arabic MSS. on falconry.

[441] The ordinary word for a “train” (bird or beast) for a greyhound or falcon is bavlī or bāvlī, in India bā,ūlī. The present author also uses dast-par for a bird; and for a gazelle given as a “train” maraj and dakl: the last two words are probably Arab terms; I am, however, unable to trace them.

[442] A young saker the translator had, the first time she was flown at hubara, left his fist and bound to the head of a white pony about twenty yards off. The pony spun round and round, till the rider, an assistant falconer, fell off from giddiness.

[443] A hawk, suddenly and hurriedly unhooded, will leave the fist before she spies anything at all. The hood should be removed quietly without flurry; and if the hawk be raw it is often as well not to release her at her first “bate.” From the expression of the hawk’s eye it is quite easy to see if she has spied the quarry and means business. Even if she started for the galloping assistant falconer, the saker would spy the fawn on the way and divert her attention.

[444] i.e., of course a trained greyhound; one that would follow the hawk.

[445] An unnecessary piece of cruelty. There is no reason why the gazelle should not be instantly put out of pain.

[446] i.e., meat not yet “put over.”

[447] Sīr shudan, lit. “satiated.” Eastern falconers, however, do not “gorge” their hawks. The author by the term sīr shudan merely means to give a hawk the regulation quantity.

[448] Hooded as before.