Part 11 (2/2)
In the afternoon both officers and men are, as a rule, free to amuse themselves with such sport and games as may seem good to them. Round and about Mardan there is fairly good small-game shooting, the game-book in a good year showing over three thousand head shot by the officers.
Amongst these are wild duck of many varieties, wild geese, snipe, partridges, hare, and quail.
The ancient and royal sport of falconry, which long flourished, has of late years become much restricted owing to the increase of cultivation.
One of the highest forms of falconry, and one little known in other countries, was the pursuit of the ravine deer. Only falcons reared from the nest could be trained to this sport, and they had to be obtained from far off Central Asia. The falcon used was the Cherug, or Saker as she is known in Europe, and the method of training is interesting. From the nest upwards the bird was taught that the only possible place to obtain food was from between a pair of antlers. At first fed sitting between them, as she learnt to flutter she was encouraged to bridge a short gap to her dinner. Then, as she grew stronger, she flew short distances to get her food as before. The next step was the use of a stuffed deer on wheels, which, when the hawk was loosed, was run along, and thus accustomed her to the idea of movement in getting her food. At the same time she was accustomed to the presence of greyhounds, for without the aid of these she would never be able to bring down her quarry. For the Pathan saying is: ”The first day a ravine deer is born a fleet man may catch it; the second day a dog; and the third day no one!”
The hawks, which were flown in pairs, were now taken into the field, keen set, to use a term in falconry; that is very hungry, but not weakened or disheartened by hunger. Directly a herd of deer was sighted the hawks were cast loose, and, soaring up, soon descried a seemingly familiar object with a pair of antlers, between which there was doubtless a delicious meal. Off, therefore, they went straight for the quarry, and, stooping, struck for the deer's antlers. Naturally, however, no bird of that size could bring a deer to earth, or even stop him unaided; but the hawks had done their initial work, and the riders, with a couple of greyhounds leashed to the stirrup, rode hard for the spot where the hawks were striking, and let slip the hounds.
The rattle of hoofs at once stampeded the deer, and then the chase began. The hawks, in turn towering and stooping, showed the line to take, for the deer was invisible to the dogs, and generally to the riders. But the dogs had learnt to work by the hawks, and cutting a corner here, or favoured by a jink there, gradually closed up, the part of the hawks being, by constant striking, to delay and confuse the deer.
It was a hard ride and a fine combination which secured the quarry, and, as with all sport worth the name, it was even chances on the deer. When the combination failed and the deer got away, it was a bit of human nature to see the meeting between the hawks and the dogs. The hawks would be sitting on the ground or on a bush, evidently and unmistakably using language of the most sulphurous nature; while the dogs came up, their tongues out, their tails between their legs, and with a general air of exhaustion, dejection, and apology. As they slunk up the muttered curses broke forth: ”You! you lazy hound! Call yourself a greyhound!
You're a fat-tailed sheep, that's what you are, nothing more!” And up would get friend hawk and cuff and strike and harry that poor dog, till he fairly yelped and fled to his master for protection.
Duck and bustard still afford sport to the falconer, but he has to work further afield, and gets less in return than in the olden times. The bustard gives good sport, and often a good run of three or four miles; indeed there is on record a case of an eleven mile point.
On the mountain range which lies close to Mardan markhor are to be found, and some good heads have been shot; while in the lower slopes good bags of chikore, black and grey partridge, and rock-pigeons may be obtained. There are two of the best polo-grounds in India, and the Guides can generally put up a good team or two to compete in the various tournaments, and generally one or more challenge-cups are to be seen on their mess table. Racquets, tennis, and hockey, lime-cutting, tent-pegging and other mounted sports are also part of the weekly life; while friendly visits, given and taken, keep touch with the neighbouring stations.
The climate of these parts is on the whole eminently healthy and bracing. True, there are four months of very hot weather, but they get lost sight of in the keen delight of the other eight. Red cheeks with buoyant activity and spirits carry their own advertis.e.m.e.nt.
Thus, briefly described, has been the home of the Guides for upwards of sixty years; a little kingdom barely a mile square, but full of happy a.s.sociations for all who have lived there. It is a quiet, una.s.suming spot, which year by year has bred, and sent forth to fight, many a gallant officer and brave soldier; and which in future years hopes to keep bright the s.h.i.+ning record of great deeds that have gone before.
THE END
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