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HUNTING BIRDS ON HORSEBACKHow ths Great Roumanian Bustard IsCaptured.For tin* borne hunting of the bustard, says Rook Carnegie In the Wide World Magazine, I rnuat (to bark to a few wintern since, when I had the pleasure of panning some days with onw of Roumannla's great land proprietors, u descendant of the Hnynrda of Spain. The weather had broken, and ourImre-driving on the frozen unow had been put a ntop to by a thaw. I had almost decided to pack up traps and hie me back to town, when I was surprised one inn ruing, on getting up to look at the state of the weather— that most Important matter to the sportsman, whither with horse, rod, or gun—to find I could not see out, the window being heavily covered with rime, though only n few hours before, on waking In the night, I had heard, with extreme disgust, the patter of rain.As I buttoned my second legging my friend dashed Into my room booteda fid breeched,'’Now you shall see something you never Hitv. nay, nor rend of In any sporting hook; I’ll lay n sovereignf ”he cried. You mu at know that If In winter It I hows, ruins, and finallyfreezes, the bustards, sleeping UH theydo lying In the open plain, get theirfeathers d these freeze, and the birds tire unable to fly. As you know, however, they can run like the wind,and we must hunt them on horseback drive them. In fact. Ho come along and bring your hunting crop, If you lisve one with you.*’Twenty minutes without a halt brought us tn undulating ground, where the tons of brushwood and bramble showed above the patchy snow. Our guide pulled up ’They are here/’ he said and pointed Is* some thicker vcgc-tailon n too yards off.Crunch, crunch, went the hoofs on the hard snow. Till now, for me It hud been “uncertainty beyond/' hut anwe nenred the corner a veritable forest of brown necks weie raised before usand waved nffrightedly In the air. For a moment only, however Then away went the whole flork. Home fill strong,their why legs carrying them over the ground at a puce that must be seen tohe believed. It'nuk! ciiukl Their harsh cry was raised as the riders, now turned Into a gang of yelling demons, raced up after them, Crack, crack, went tint whips. Hounding like pistol shots In the frosty air. A chorus of shouth and cries hrnko out.Presently the birds spread, going In ult directions, dodging hi a manner that made It exceedingly difficult to get a fair whack at them. Those with I he sticks did host, iih the bird was inimrdfsbdy killed nr stunned on receiving ci blow. Those with whips endeavored to get the lash round the peeks and legs of their victims, simply to throw them over; but In doing this they often enough brought them-selves mu! pony down also, it wss nMenilulling to see how the little beastssue mod to save thrmselves In falling, and they were on tlielr feet again Immediately Once down, the peasant's knife wu0 out and the bird’s neck slit Instantaneously. We, on our bigger mounth, were afraid to go at too hard a pine, and had to be content withlidding for the others.It was an exciting scene, even to iv mere onlooker, and one l would not havu missed for much, in about half iui hour the lust bird was run down, a ad all of us pulled up for a breathing space.
Newspaper Details
Inter Mountain Globe
Hulett, Wyoming, US
Sat, Sep 23, 1911
Page 6
Full Page
Clipped by
Jim B.
USA 16 Mar 2023
Other Publications Near Hulett, Wyoming
Inter Mountain Globe
