WHY try to describe the distress of that morning or the efforts it cost, during fourteen hours, to gain the summits of GrÉdos? Again and again what we had taken for our destination proved to be some intervening ridge with another desperate gorge beyond. Suffice it that it was an hour after dark ere we finally lifted the cargoes from the dead-beat beasts. Presently the moon arose, and against her pale effulgence towered the gnarled and pinnacled peaks of AlmanzÓr, piercing the very skies—a lovely but to me an appalling scene. Their altitude is 8800 feet.

Our whole plan and ambitions in this expedition were to find and stalk the ibex—the very undertaking which had proved beyond our powers during two strenuous efforts in former years as readers of Wild Spain already know.

Now in all stalking it must be obvious even to non-technical readers that the first essential is to bring under survey of the binoculars a very considerable extent of game-country every day; but here, in the chaotic jumble of perpendicular or impending precipice or smooth rock-faces inclined at angles that we dare not traverse, any such extensive survey is a sheer impossibility. Alpine climbers or others in the fullest enjoyment of youth and activity might get forward at a reasonable speed. To us, already past that stage, the feat was impossible, i.e. by our own sole exertions. That we, of course, knew in advance; but our plan was to supplement our own powers by availing the splendid rock-climbing abilities of our friends, the goat-herds of AlmanzÓr, on whom we relied for at least finding the game in the first instance.

“At the Apex off All the Spains.” (IBEX ON THE PLAZA DE ALMANZÓR.)
“At the Apex off All the Spains.”
(IBEX ON THE PLAZA DE ALMANZÓR.)

RamÓn and IsidÓro were away by the first glint of dawn, disappearing in opposite directions so as to encompass both the surrounding rock-ranges and to mark ibex in stalkable positions. We awaited their return in camp, not only with anxiety, but with some impatience, since the temperature had fallen so low that no wraps or blankets served to keep us warm while inactive.

After a fruitless search of four hours, the scouts returned; no better results attended a second morning and a third—nor our impatience. Clearly the second resource, that of “driving,” must now be tried. It was only ten o’clock that third morning, and already the drivers, who had left at dawn so as to reach agreed positions in case of the failure of resource No. 1, would be approaching the fixed points four miles away on the encircling heights, whereat, by signal, they would know whether to proceed with the “drive” or to return by the circuitous route they had gone. Meanwhile we have ourselves to reach the “passes” in the heights above, and the scramble and struggle which that ascent involved we must leave readers to imagine. Bertram gets through such work fairly well, but the writer, a generation older, is fain to choose a lower place, reputed a likely “pass.” Here, after waiting an hour, we descried the drivers showing-up at different points of those encircling Riscos de MorezÓn, climbing like flies down perpendicular faces, disappearing in gorges, and doing all that specialised hunters can. But not an ibex came our way. When we reassembled, it proved that three goats had been seen, one a ram. Thus ended that day—cruel work amidst lovely though terrible scenery—and never a wild-goat within our sight.

On the morrow our selected positions were to be yet nearer the heavens above than those of yesterday—along the highest skylines of GrÉdos, between the Plaza de AlmanzÓr and the AmeÁl. From our camp my own post was pointed out, a niche in that far-away impossible ridge. How long, I asked RamÓn, do you imagine it will take me to reach it? Our friends, who, lean and lythe of frame, a specialised race of mountaineers, mock mountain-heights and appreciate too little (though they recognise) our relative weakness, reply, “Two hours.” But at that precise moment, while I yet scanned with binoculars the scene of this supreme effort, examining in a species of horror that infinity of piled rock-masses, their details cruelly developed in a blazing sunlight, just then, across the field of the glass soared a single lammergeyer. Now I know that these giant birds-of-prey span some ten feet from wing to wing, and the tiny speck that this one, reduced by distance, appeared on the object-glass helped me to gauge what lay before us.

A black point that from camp I had mentally noted as a landmark proved to be a mass of dolomite seamed with interjected striÆ of glistening felspar, big as a village church!

“THE WAY OF AN EAGLE IN THE AIR” (Lammergeyer—GypaËtus barbatus)
“THE WAY OF AN EAGLE IN THE AIR” (Lammergeyer—GypaËtus barbatus)

I had demanded four hours, and precisely within that period reached my celestial pinnacle. Bertram was beyond and higher still—where, I could not see. But my own post seemed to me as sublime as even an ibex-hunter could desire, at the culminating apex of the Spains and the centre of dispersal of four giant gorges each bristling with bewildering chaos of crags and rock-ruin, while above, to right and left, towered yet loftier riscos.

At these serene altitudes life appeared non-existent. The last signs of a cryptogamic vegetation we had left below, and I could now see eagles or vultures soaring almost perpendicularly beneath and reduced by distance to moving specks.

Yet shortly before reaching our posts, along one of those awesome shelves with a 500-feet drop below, a touch from RamÓn drew my attention to a truly magnificent old ibex-ram in full view, quietly skipping from crag to crag some 300 yards above. So slow and deliberate were his movements, with frequent halts to gaze, that time was allowed to gain a rational position and to enjoy for several minutes a glorious view through binoculars. Twice he halted in front of small snow-slopes, against which those curving horns were set off in perfect detail. Then with measured movements, making good each foot-hold, alternated by marvellous bounds to some rock-point above, the grand wild-goat vanished from view. His course led into a rock-region that already our drivers were encompassing, hence we had strong hopes that we might not have seen the last of him.

Two herds of ibex, it transpired, were enclosed in this beat; one comprising nine females and small beasts, the second two with a two-year-old ram; but our big friend was seen no more.

I had, however, enjoyed a scene that went far to compensate for the tribulations it had cost.

Late that night the two lads who had accompanied A. returned to camp. After riding fifteen hours on Wednesday, he could do no more, slept at a venta, and reached Avila (which he considers twenty leagues from Ornillos, the spot where he left us) at noon on Thursday, where he caught the SÛd-express, and to-night will be in Paris. He sent us a few pencilled words, urging us to utmost endeavours with the wild-goats, as this will be in all probability our last chance. I agree, for the natives kill off male and female alike, only a few wily old rams remain, a mere fraction of the stock which formerly existed. The shepherds who come to these high tops to pasture their herds for a few weeks each summer have chances to kill the ibex which they do not neglect. When Don Manuel Silvela, the statesman, was here twenty years ago, some 150 ibex were driven past his post above the Laguna de GrÉdos. Not a quarter of that number now survive in all the range.

August 26.—Everything outside the tents was frozen solid last night, but with sunrise the temperature goes up with a bound. We had trout for breakfast, caught by hand from the burn below. To-day the work was easier, for the two beats were both small and more or less on the same level as our camp. The first lasted five hours, but gave no result. We then moved to the west, always rising till we found ourselves on the summit of another ridge looking down into a mighty gorge and upon the mysterious rock-cradled Cinco Lagunas de GrÉdos. The plains of Castile lay beneath us like a map, towns and villages distinguishable through the glass though not without. Bertram was placed in a “pass,” about 100 yards wide, piercing the topmost peaks, myself in a similar portilla rather lower down. An hour later DionÝsio, who had climbed the crag above me, whence he could see into the abyss beneath, signalled as he hung over the edge of his eyrie that something was coming. Then he slid down to my side to tell me that three goats were moving slowly up the gorge. DionÝsio returned to his ledge, and for half an hour I enjoyed that state of breathless suspense when one expects each moment to be face to face with a coveted trophy. The three goats, I perceived, must pass through this portilla on one side or the other of the rock behind which I lay expectant. At last there caught my ear the gentle patter of horned hoofs on rocks, but oh!... it was succeeded by the bang of a gun. DionÝsio had fired from his ledge twenty yards above me. The three ibex had come on to within ten yards of where I lay, looking, as it were, down a tunnel. The wind had been right enough, but it appeared an erratic puff had elected to blow straight from us to them. They caught it, and in a flash disappeared down the ravine, DionÝsio, as he hung from the ledge, giving them a parting shot. That was friend DionÝsio’s version of the event. What actually occurred, all who are experienced in this wild-hunting will divine without our telling. I ran from my post along the lip of the abyss—luckily there was a bit of fairly good going—hoping to get a chance as the game turned upwards again; for at once, on hearing a shot, the beaters far below joined in a chorus of wild yells to push them upwards. This they succeeded in doing, but the goats passed beyond my range. I now saw there were four in all—three females and a handsome ram. DionÝsio made a further effort to turn them, which so far succeeded that the ram separated and bounded up the rocks towards the higher pass, where he ran the gauntlet of Bertram within thirty yards. Now the whole stress and burden of a laborious expedition fell upon the youngest shoulders, for B. was barely out of his teens, and more skilled with shot-gun than with ball. The responsibility proved almost too great—almost, but not quite; for one bullet had taken effect, and the rocks beyond the little “pass” were sprinkled with blood. The late hour, 4 P.M., and the long scramble campwards forbade our following the spoor that night, but the ram was recovered some two miles beyond the point where we had last seen him—horn measurements 24? inches, by 8¼ inches basal circumference.

Two Spanish Ibex shot in Sierra de GrÉdos, July, 1910. MARQUÉS DE VILLAVICIOSA DE ASTEREAS. MARQUÉS DE VIANA. Two Spanish Ibex Shot in Sierra de GrÉdos, July, 1910.
MARQUÉS DE VILLAVICIOSA DE ASTEREAS. MARQUÉS DE VIANA.
Two Spanish Ibex Shot in Sierra de GrÉdos, July, 1910.

The beaters reported having seen several ibex during this drive, two small rams, females, and kids—thirteen in all. We devoted a couple more days to this section of the sierra, but both proved unsuccessful so far as regards the one grand ibex-ram which we had seen. Here, on the Riscos del Fraile, and later on at Villarejo, we each spared small beasts; but at last were fain to be content with a three-year-old goat, whose head adorns our walls.

Before daylight we were aroused by the breaking-up of camp, and by seven o’clock had taken a downward course from that lofty eyrie which we had occupied for ten days. It was a lovely ride with bright sunlight lighting up every detail of the mountain scenery, while every mile brought evidence of the lowering altitude—first, in green herbage, then in brushwood and stunted trees, till at mid-day we reached the region of pines in the cool valley of the river Tormes. Here we halted, and while lunch was being prepared, enjoyed a swim in those crystal torrents. That afternoon was devoted to trout, but with meagre results. The stream gleamed like polished steel, everything that moved in the waters could be seen, and doubtless its denizens enjoyed a similar advantage as regards things in the other element. At any rate, none save the smaller trout would look at a fly; so we continued our journey, following the river-side in the direction of the mountains of Villarejo.

DionÝsio and Caraballo had gone to a hamlet lower down for bread and wine. There was no bread, and having to wait till it was baked, delayed the march. Meanwhile, we wandered on through pine-woods with the beautiful stream fretting and foaming, and collecting a few bird-specimens, though none of much interest. We did, however, come across two gigantic nests of the black vulture, flat platforms of sticks, each superimposed on the summit of a lofty pine. Even in these uplands the black vulture nests in March, when the whole land is yet enveloped in snow, and while frequent snowstorms sweep down the valleys. So closely does the parent vulture incubate, that she allows herself to be completely buried on her nest beneath the drifting snow. On these hanging steeps the eyries are overlooked from above, yet not a vestige of the sitting vulture can be seen until she is disturbed by a blow from an axe on the trunk, or by a shot fired—then off she goes, dislodging a cloud of snow from her three-yard wings as she launches into space.

BLACK VULTURE (Vultur monachus)
BLACK VULTURE (Vultur monachus)

The black vulture lays but one huge egg, often boldly marked and suffused with dark-brown and rusty blotches and splashes, in contrast with the eggs of the griffon vulture, which are usually colourless or, at most, but faintly shaded.

The latter, so abundant in Andalucia, is remarkably scarce in GrÉdos, where we saw rather more eagles than vultures. The chief bird-forms of the high sierra were ravens and choughs, ring-ouzels, rock-thrush and black-chat (Dromolaea leucura). The alpine accentor (Accentor collaris) and alpine pipit (Anthus spipoletta) also reach to the highest summits; the blue thrush lower down.

In the valley of the Tormes and among the pines many British species were at home, such as blackbirds and thrushes, redstarts, nuthatches, and Dartford warblers; besides the two southern wheatears, since found to be but one dimorphic form!

The Riscos de Villarejo

Three hours later the mule-train overtook us, and we pursued the track upwards towards the Riscos de Villarejo till darkness obliged us to encamp. The jagged outline ahead, marking our destination, looked far away; we could go no nearer to-night, and outspanned on a tiny lawn on the mountain-slope. Once more we had left tree and shrub far below, but the dry piorno-scrub made fire enough to cook a frugal supper. The hunters, with their stew-pots balanced on stones, sat round us in a circle.

Next morning we were alert, as usual, before the dawn—called at 4 A.M.—and off again on another terrible climb towards the summits. It is no mild trudge through turnips this 1st of September, but one more effort to interview in his haunts the Spanish mountain-ram.

At 6000 feet we reached a point beyond which no domestic beast can go. Here, leaving our own men to encamp, the upward climb with the hunters begins. This day and each of the two following were devoted solely to stalking, each of us separately with his guide taking a diverging course along two of the lower ridges of the sierra. Two female ibex were descried in a position which might without difficulty have been stalked. These, however, we left in peace; though, as it proved, they were the only animals seen before we regained camp, an hour after dark, tired out and empty-handed once more. On the fourth day we drove this same rock-region, but without success, only two goats, both small males, being seen. The entire failure of this venture was a disappointment, as ibex were known to frequent these reefs. An explanation was suggested that a herd of domestic goats had approached too near their exclusive wild congeners, which had fled to a neighbouring mountain. That mountain, we arranged, should be explored at daylight on the morrow by two of our hunters. The cold at night in camp was intense, and our Andalucian retainers complained bitterly, although they kept an enormous fire going; yet during the day the heat had been excessive, and the sun burns terribly at these altitudes.

The following morning we tried a comprehensive drive encompassing two gorges composed of sublimely grand rocks. As I look over the edge of the black pinnacle that forms my post the sheer drop below is appalling, and above me tower similar masses in rugged and frowning splendour. But not a goat was seen till quite late in the afternoon, when two females slowly approaching were descried. For a mile we watched them, so deliberate was their progress, till they disappeared through the very “pass” where A. had shot his some five years before.

September 6.—Our scouts returned last night, having failed to locate ibex on the opposite mountain; so we made a final effort on the Riscos of Villarejo—again blank. Well! we have done our best for six days on those terrible rocks, on which we must now turn our backs for the present.

At the village of ArÉnas de San Pedro we bade good-bye to all our people; even their wives (clad in the same short skirts of greens and other brilliant hues we had noticed in ’91, for fashions change slowly in the sierra) came down from Guisando to say farewell to the InglÉses. Here RamÓn brought in the head of Bertie’s ibex shot the week before; RamÓn presented me with his powder-horn and bullet-pouch as a keepsake, and Juanito with a mountain-staff. Our visit had marked an epoch in the simple annals of the sierra and of its honest and primitive inhabitants.

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To-day we rejoice to add that, as already fully set forth at pp. 141-142, wild-goats may be counted in troops on the erewhiles ibex-denuded crags of AlmanzÓr.