Andalucia and its Big Game 55 



and quality. The ground is open, soft, and easy. The big new- 

 track, with its spurts of forward-projected sand, are visible yards 

 ahead. We follow almost at a run — how simple it seems ! But 

 not for long. Soon comes check No. 1. A dozen other deer 

 have followed on the same line, and the original trail is 

 obliterated. The troop leads on into a region of boundless bush, 

 shoulder-high, where the ground is harder and the trackers spread 

 out to right and left, backing each other with silent signals. 

 Their skill and patience fascinate ; but it is to me, in the 

 centre, that after a long hour's scrutiny, falls the satisfaction of 

 rediscovering that big track where it diverges alone on the left. 

 Half a mile beyond, our erratic friend has passed through w^ater. 

 For a space a broken reed here or displaced lilies there help us 

 forwjird ; then the deepening water, all open, bears no trace. 

 The opposite shore, moreover, is fringed by a 200-yard belt of 

 bulrush and ten-foot canes, and beyond all that lies heavy jungle. 



You give it up ? Admittedly these are no lines of least 

 resistance, but we will cut the unpopular part as short as may be 

 and merely add that it was high noon ere, after three hours' work 

 — puzzling out problems and paradoxes, now following a false 

 clue, anon recovering the true one — that at last the big spoor on 

 dry land once more rejoiced our sight. More than that, it now 

 bears evidence — to eyes that can read — that our stag is 

 approaching his selected stronghold. He goes slowly. Here he 

 has stopped to survey his rear — there he has lingered to nibble 

 a genista, and the spoor zigzags to and fro. Now it turns at 

 sharp angle, following a cheek-wmd, and a suggestive grove of 

 cork-oaks embedded in heavy bush lies ahead. One hunter 

 opines the stag lies up here : the other doubts. No half-measures 

 suffice. AVe turn down-wind, detouring to reach the main outlet 

 (salida) to leeward; here I remain hidden, while my companions, 

 separating on right and left, proceed to encircle the manclia. 

 Two hinds break hard by, and presently Juan returns with word 

 that the stag has passed through the covert — better still, that a 

 second big beast has joined the first, and that the double spoor, 

 moving dead-slow and three-quarters up wind, proceeds due 

 north. Another mile and then right ahead lies heavy covert, but 

 Xow'y and straojo-lino- and the haltinor trail indicates this as a 

 certain find. 



The strategic position is simple, but tactics, for a single gun, 



