VOL. LXXXJV 
NOVEMBER, 1915 
Deer Hunting in the Island of Cuba 
It is not Usually Known That This Nearby Semi-Tropic Neighbor Offers Shooting Attractions and Studies 
in Natural History Equally Interesting but Totally Different From the United States 
By Paul Brandreth. 
IIKE our Southern whitetail, the 
Cuban deer is rather an under¬ 
sized animal; but for all that 
he is a handsome little speci¬ 
men. Indeed, the attributes 
which have stamped the white- 
tail as king among his kind are 
rather enhanced than suppressed by his small 
proportions; and as far as bodily form and ex¬ 
quisite delicacy of limb are concerned, he ap¬ 
pears to represent in miniature the perfect type 
to which, throughout all of its climatic varia¬ 
tions, the species should conform. 
Living in the humid temperature of the An¬ 
tilles the whitetail, with no winter food problem 
to overcome, grows as plump and sleek as the 
European roebuck. Apparently he does not shed 
his horns at the time our northern deer are ac¬ 
customed to. Of course, in the tropics, the sea¬ 
sons are more or less reversed, which probably 
accounts for the difference, for during a trip 
I made to Cuba, which lasted all of January and 
nearly all of February, every buck I saw had 
well developed horns. I did not see many, I 
admit, but since then I have been anxious for 
enlightenment on the subject and would like to 
find out definitely the tropical season of the year 
which stands as the equivalent of our horn-shed¬ 
ding period in the north. 
Deer hunting in Cuba is done chiefly with 
dogs. A favorable locality being selected, the 
hunters are stationed at advantageous points on 
some grassy plateau lying well up in the moun¬ 
tainous country. The dogs are then set out on 
fresh trails back in the pine woods and jungle 
scrub. As many of the runways cross these 
grassy open places, at least one of the party, if 
any game is started, is sure of getting a shot. 
Practically all shots obtained are at running 
animals. 
Another method practiced, and one which sa¬ 
vors more of raciness and true sport, is to fol¬ 
low a deer with a hound pack on horse-back 
and bag the animal by riding it down and shoot¬ 
ing it out of the saddle. This, of course, can 
only be done in the valley-lands, where the coun¬ 
try is spacious and affords a wide outlook as 
well as good footing. But as nearly everywhere 
in Cuba the mountain ranges slip down into a 
lovely park-like country both the above methods 
of deer hunting may be developed, according to 
one’s personal taste in the matter. 
Throughout the mountains of Pinar del Rio 
deer are more or less plentiful; also wild pigs 
and agouti. In the foothills and palm-dotted 
valleys abound quail and a variety of doves; so 
that anyone coming up from Havana for a few 
days of sport in the province, is practically sure 
of obtaining good shooting. 
Perhaps there is no more pleasant place in 
this particular locality than the provincial town 
of San Diego de los Banos. Famous for its 
sulphur springs, and beautiful tropic scenery, it 
not only offers one the most comfortable lodg¬ 
ings, the best of food and the most delightful 
kind of bathing, but includes the pleasures of 
deer hunting, quail and dove shooting, and horse¬ 
back riding through the wild jungle trails that 
climb and wind over the slopes of the great 
mountain barrier, known as La Cierras de los 
Organus. 
This range of abrupt volcanic mountains shel¬ 
ters many deer and other small kinds of game. 
The main uplift of the system extends in a 
line nearly parallel with the north coast of the 
islands, and from verdurous plains populated with 
forests of royal palms and tobacco plantations, 
breaks sharply upward in waves of blue and 
purple that sweep the horizon above the reef of 
green foothills. 
As far as the eye can see the range troops off 
to east and west till it melts in the haze of dis¬ 
tance. Mountains, table-shaped and cone-shaped, 
buttresses smooth and jagged, slender volcanic 
peaks and broken spurs and minarets are piled 
against the sky in magnificent confusion. And 
the very continental solidity to their aspect makes 
it all the more difficult to believe that they stand 
as but a frail barrier against limitless ocean 
spaces, and are the children only of a strip of 
sun-kissed land swimming in a tropic sea. 
The day we drove the twelve miles from Paso 
Real to San Diego was beautifully clear, and 
replete with the charm of seeing new things. 
After four hours in the train, we sat back lux¬ 
uriantly in the comfortable wagon procured at 
the railway station, and let the soft airs and 
sunlight soak into our skins. Just under our 
feet a little silver-voiced bell chimed a muscial 
warning to pedestrians and vehicles, as we sped 
