File:Wild Spain records of sport with rifle, rod, and gun, natural history and exploration (1893) (14729248356).jpg

Identifier: wildspainrecords00chaprich (find matches)
Title: Wild Spain ... records of sport with rifle, rod, and gun, natural history and exploration
Year: 1893 (1890s)
Authors: Chapman, Abel, 1851-1929 Buck, Walter John
Subjects: Hunting -- Spain Game and game-birds -- Spain
Publisher: London, Gurney and Jackson
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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nd to devote the remainingdays to still-hunting, abandoning every other form ofattack. The railis had left much of these rolling downs too wetfor shelter, many of the thickets and patches of scroggy wood being breast-deep in water. The picaros tunantes,i.e., cunning old rogues, as Manuel termed our friendsthe big stags, were therefore reduced for dry-lying to thehigher ridges and plateaux of the plains; and these, itchanced, lay at the greatest distance—a long two-days ride. The sun was low ere our horses hoofs resounded on dryland, instead of the constant splash, splosh throughflooded hollows or standing pools of rain-water. Here, too,the swelling prairie aflorded rather more covert. We hadnow reached favourable ground, and from each rising pointwe examined the surrounding country with minute scrutiny,scanning each nook and corner with the binoculars. Aftera while we made out the head of a stag, apparently feeding 430 WILD SPAIN. beyond a belt of aboldgas and jungle-grass. A direct
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stalk—which otherwise seemed fairl) feasible—would,under existing conditions, have necessitated siriiiiniiii;/ a DEER-STALKING AND STILL-HUNTING. 431 considerable part of the distance, and the lateness of thehour forbade our making a long detour, which also seemedto offer a chance of success. We therefore adopted a thirdcourse, and after quickly covering some two miles, mostlythrough prickl) spear-grass or water, reached a ridgewhich my companion reckoned would command the courseof the deer as he fed forward. On peering through thebushes on the crest, the stag was nowhere to be seen—wehad overshot the point, and he was now far to the right.Before us stretched a long tongue of marshy water, chokedwith grasses, and aquatic herbage floating on its surface.With a sardonic grin, M. assured me that that grass wouldprove the death of our stag. He will feed along that pool,he whispered, nil)bling the water-plants and sproutinggrass ; but first the daylight must decline. Ten minuteslater

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