116 Unexplored Spain 
each morning to these spots, yet those numbers are but a small 
proportion of their entire aggregate, for no individual goose needs 
to replenish his supply of sand or grit more often than perhaps 
once a week, or even less frequently. Hence at each dawn it is a 
fresh contingent of geese that comes in para arendrse = to “sand 
themselves,” as our keepers put it. 
One other quality in the natural economy of wild-geese 
requires mention—that is, their sense of scent. This defence 
wild-geese possess in equal degree with wild-ducks and most 
other wild creatures; but each class differ in their modes of 
utilising it. 
For whereas ducks on detecting human scent will take instant 
alarm and depart afar on that indication alone; yet geese, on 
the other hand, though their nostrils have fully advised them of 
the presence of danger, will not at once take wing, but remain— 
with necks erect and all eyes concentrated towards the suspect 
point—awaiting confirmation by sight what they already know 
by scent. 
That such is the case we ascertained in the days (now long 
past) when we ventured to stalk geese with no more covert than 
the low fringe of rush that borders the marisma. ‘“‘ Gatiando” 
=cat-crouching, our keepers term the method—laborious work, 
creeping flat for, it may be, 200 yards, through sloppy mud with 
less than two-foot of cover. Should it become necessary during 
the stalk to go directly to windward of the fowl, one’s presence 
(though quite unseen) would be instantly detected. The geese, 
ceasing to feed or rest, all stood to attention, while low, rumbling 
alarm-signals resounded along their lines. But they did not 
take wing. Presently, however, one reached a gap in the thickly 
growing rushes—it might not extend to a yard in width, yet 
no sooner was but a glimpse available to the keen eyes beyond, 
than the whole pack rose in simultaneous clatter of throats 
and wings. They had merely waited that scintilla of ocular 
confirmation of a known danger. 
“DRIVING” (IN A Dry SzEason) 
For four months no rain had fallen. The parched earth 
gaped with cavernous cracks; vegetation was dried up; starving 
cattle stood about listless, and every day one saw the assembled 
vultures devouring the carcases of those already dead. 
