Chapter XIX: Sport Among the Arabs

The Arab who has not become softened by life in European towns thinks more of sport than of anything else. His greatest ambition is to own a horse, and the possession of a breech-loading gun is a dream he rarely realizes. With his old muzzle-loading blunderbuss, however, he does wonderful shooting, and rams down the charge with amazing rapidity.

Game of all kinds abounds in Algeria—partridge, hares, woodcock, bustard, pigeons, quail, wild boar, gazelle, moufflon, and occasional panthers in the mountains. I will discuss the various methods of shooting the animals as employed by the Arabs, as, with rare exceptions, sport in the country is organized by them. Small game is either walked up or driven; usually driven, as the areas are so wide and open that it is difficult to approach within range of the birds. Hares can be walked, and they make very pretty shots as they dart round the tufts of alfa; the bustard seems to be a bulky target and does not appear to fly very fast, but is not too easy to hit. Dogs are taken out, but they are badly trained, and it is preferable to leave them at home and rely on native boys to pick up the game.

The most interesting way of hunting the small game in the south is mounted, with hawks. The breed is a kind of small falcon, and unlike those trained in India and other countries, which once captured are kept as long as they can fly, these hawks of North Africa are caught in the autumn and are released again in the spring as soon as the molting season begins. What is still more curious is that the same birds are found again the following year by the falconers, with their young, to be trained for the first time. A hawk is an expensive luxury, and costs four or five hundred francs to buy, while a falconer must be mounted, clothed, fed, and paid a salary. But it is a noble sport, and perhaps one of the most picturesque in the world.

A meeting-place is fixed, and the party rides out in twos and threes, or, in the case of the rich, send on their horses, and motor there in comfort. When every one is assembled a long line is made, converging at the two extremities so as almost to make three sides of a square; the falconers, with the birds, capped, perching on their turbans or shoulders, ride in the center. The horsemen slowly advance. Suddenly there is a shout—a hare has got up; the line steadies its pace, for it is against all rules in any way to hunt the hare until the falcon has got to work. This does not take long, however, for in a second a bird is uncapped and is soaring rapidly up into the air, a second bird has followed it, perhaps a third.

Up they go, flying swiftly above the hunted beast. Suddenly the first falcon swoops down toward the earth, then up again. He has missed, but before the hare has got over this first escape the second falcon comes down; if he misses, the third is there; and, with cries of delight, the Arabs ride up to see the prey held firmly in the falcon’s talons as he pecks savagely at the head.

All this may take five minutes or half an hour. If the hare gets a good start or if the falcon does not see it, at once there is gallop across country, driving the hare in as straight a line as possible by hemming him in on either flank. It is advised in this case not to try to guide the horse, but to let it pick its way among the tufts and holes in the mad pursuit across the rough ground. Many hawks are often loosed, and one may see eight in the air at the same time.

The prettiest sight, I think, is to see a hawk tackling a bustard. The bird gets up heavily, and at first flies low, apparently slowly, but not too slowly for the hawk, whose wings twinkle high up in the sky. After a minute or two the bustard decides to rise; in doing so it loses distance, and the hawk, at the critical moment, stoops and with a graceful upward movement seems just to skim over the large bird’s back, turning on itself again like an aeroplane looping. There is a little shower of gray feathers, the bustard seems to stagger, and then spins down to earth, while the falcon remains high above, marking the place where lies the body.

More often than not, the quarry gets away, and it is then a little difficult to gather in the hawks. The falconers, with loud cries, wave the carcass of a dead hare round their heads until the birds, one by one, return and are capped till the next hunt.

The shooting of bigger game is contrary to all British ideas of sport. The art of stalking is practically unknown.

The wild boar which infests the Atlas range, and especially the mountains of the coast, is driven through the thick undergrowth and killed with a shotgun at short range.

The gazelle of the Sahara is hunted in different ways. The most common method is on horseback. A party of five or six will ride out on to the plain where gazelles are known to be pasturing. As soon as the animals are sighted the horsemen approach cautiously, endeavoring to place themselves on the flank of the herd. The moment the hunters are seen, up go the heads of the gazelles, and in a second there is a wild stampede. At the same time the horses leap forward and the pursuit begins.

If the preliminary maneuvering has been well carried out the line of horsemen will be galloping one behind the other parallel to the gazelles, and little by little the distance separating the hunters from their quarry is lessened.

Suddenly as the leading horseman comes within range he drops the reins on his horse’s neck, raises his gun and fires. His companions follow suit and an intermittent broadside continues until the herd breaks up into terrified groups fleeing in all directions.

The party halts, retainers who have been following hurry up and cut the throats of the dead gazelles, as even in sport the laws of the Prophet must be observed.

It is an exhilarating sport but it needs a little practise to hit anything when both hunters and hunted are at full gallop. It is moreover recommended to use a high-backed Arab saddle and also to ride at the rear of the line, as excitement often makes the Arabs shoot carelessly.

There are others, merely hunting for food, who go out before dawn when the herds are all lying down, approach as near as possible, and then blaze away as soon as it is light enough to see. Some sportsmen hunt them with the native greyhound, but, as this entails much leisure with often no results, the sport is dying out. I have seen gazelles hunted from a motor-car. The vehicle goes bumping across the desert until a herd is seen, and approaches as near as possible. As soon as the animals get the wind they are off, and the car is off after them. As in the case of the hunting on horseback, the gazelles at first go much faster, but they are soon overtaken and the car rushes along beside them while the occupants discharge their guns into the terrified herd. It is a massacre, but the shooting is not so easy as it sounds and the driver of the car must have courage and judgment. Sometimes it is impossible to get level with the gazelles. In these cases the object may be achieved by the mere tooting of the horn! Nine times out of ten this will cause the gazelles to stop, the car then stops too, and the tooting continues at intervals until—marvelous to relate— the animals begin approaching to see what the noise is. At this moment the heathen kills just as many head as he wants.

There are few dishes more delicate than a roast haunch of gazelle, and the cutlets melt in one’s mouth.

The moufflon—which is not really a moufflon at all, but a sort of goat resembling very closely the animal which is known as the sharpu in Kashmir—is very little hunted. In the first place, he lives in very inaccessible mountains, chiefly in the Aures above Biskra and in the Djebel Amour near Laghouat; secondly, he is getting scarce, and thirdly, his meat not being very tender, is not sought after. If the Arabs see one they shoot it with a shotgun regardless of sex or age; and the European who wants to stalk must understand the game thoroughly himself, be a good mountaineer, and merely employ natives to guide him to the likely spots. It is one of the most astonishing things to see how completely ignorant the Arabs are of all questions of wind or light; their only idea seems to be to rush up to the beasts as quickly as possible and kill in quantity.

But, if the sportsman will take trouble and get into touch with some of the rare Arabs who enjoy this kind of shooting, he will have some excellent sport and get quite good heads.

Panthers are very rare nowadays, and keep away in the highest peaks where there are forests or thick undergrowth. Only when it is very cold do they come down to lower levels and kill a few sheep. The moment their presence is known all the neighboring villages are up in arms, and the wretched beasts have not many days to live.

Jackals and foxes are also shot, as they do a great deal of damage to flocks, and their skins are tanned and sold. Hyenas frequent the plains of the Northern Sahara.

On the whole, however, the Arab who is at heart a good sportsman considers that any form of hunting not connected with a horse is more a means to obtain food than anything else. There are, of course, the great chiefs who will organize regular shoots for their friends as is done in Europe, but it is not very general.

Horse-racing is encouraged, and, though it is carried out in rather a wild method, with little attention to handicapping, it is very highly thought of. Every Arab knows how to ride, be he a soldier, a merchant, or a cook, and the smallest boy will mount his steed without fear or hesitation at the first opportunity.

What strikes one, however, is the little care the average man takes of his horse. He very rarely grooms him, he feeds him on any sort of fodder available, and when in camp he hobbles him in a way which is almost cruel. He uses a heavy saddle based on a wooden framework, and the bit, though light, is often rusty. It is nothing for a nomad to do thirty miles a day on an animal which has never smelled a handful of oats in its life. In spite of this, however, the horses seem to thrive, and those who are properly cared for answer to the treatment in an incredibly short space of time.

All along the coast, sea-fishing abounds, but it differs in no way from the same sort of fishing all over the world. The river-fishing inland is not worth speaking about, but it exists, and the rather bony fish which is caught often makes a pleasant contrast to the eternal meals of mutton and game.

This, roughly speaking, is the sport of Algeria. There are, of course, private individuals—European farmers—who do a certain amount of preserving, but they are in the minority, and rarely ask others than their neighbors to share in their shoots.

Game exists everywhere, and, if the sportsman will take trouble, he can have as good fun with gun and rifle as in any country, but he must do it all himself.