It is, however, when the dog and the bird are trained to work together that the spectacle becomes really novel and interesting to an English spectator.
As soon as the Gazelles are fairly in view, the hunter unhoods his hawk, and holds it up so that it may see the animals. The bird fixes its eye on one Gazelle, and by that glance the animal's doom is settled. The falcon darts after the Gazelles, followed by the dog, who keeps his eye on the hawk, and holds himself in readiness to attack the animal that his feathered ally may select. Suddenly the falcon, which has been for some few seconds hovering over the herd of Gazelles, makes a stoop upon the selected victim, fastening its talons in its forehead, and, as it tries to shake off its strange foe, flaps its wings into the Gazelle's eyes so as to blind it. Consequently, the rapid course of the antelope is arrested, so that the dog is able to come up and secure the animal while it is struggling to escape from its feathered enemy. Sometimes, though rarely, a young and inexperienced hawk swoops down with such reckless force that it misses the forehead of the Gazelle, and impales itself upon the sharp horns, just as in England the falcon is apt to be spitted on the bill of the heron.
The most sportsmanlike mode of hunting the Gazelle is to use the falcon alone; but for this sport a bird must possess exceptional strength, swiftness, and intelligence. A very spirited account of such a chase is given by Mr. G. W. Chasseaud, in his "Druses of the Lebanon:"—
"Whilst reposing here, our old friend with the falcon informs us that at a short distance from this spot is a khan called Nebbi Youni, from a supposition that the prophet Jonah was here landed by the whale; but the old man is very indignant when we identify the place with a fable, and declare to him that similar sights are to be seen at Gaza and Scanderoon. But his good humour is speedily recovered by reverting to the subject of the exploits and cleverness of his falcon. This reminds him that we have not much time to waste in idle talk, as the greater heats will drive the gazelles from the plains to the mountain retreats, and lose us the opportunity of enjoying the most sportsmanlike amusement in Syria. Accordingly, bestriding our animals again, we ford the river at that point where a bridge once stood.
"We have barely proceeded twenty minutes before the keen eye of the falconer has descried a herd of gazelles quietly grazing in the distance. Immediately he reins in his horse, and enjoining silence, instead of riding at them, as we might have felt inclined to do, he skirts along the banks of the river, so as to cut off, if possible, the retreat of these fleet animals where the banks are narrowest, though very deep, but which would be cleared at a single leap by the gazelles. Having successfully accomplished this manœuvre, he again removes the hood from the hawk, and indicates to us that precaution is no longer necessary. Accordingly, first adding a few slugs to the charges in our barrels, we balance our guns in an easy posture, and, giving the horses their reins, set off at full gallop, and with a loud hurrah, right towards the already startled gazelles.
"The timid animals, at first paralysed by our appearance, stand and gaze for a second terror-stricken at our approach; but their pause is only momentary; they perceive in an instant that the retreat to their favourite haunts has been secured, and so they dash wildly forward with all the fleetness of despair, coursing over the plain with no fixed refuge in view, and nothing but their fleetness to aid in their delivery. A stern chase is a long chase, and so, doubtless, on the present occasion it would prove with ourselves, for there is many and many a mile of level country before us, and our horses, though swift of foot, stand no chance in this respect with the gazelles.
"Now, however, the old man has watched for a good opportunity to display the prowess and skill of his falcon: he has followed us only at a hand-gallop; but the hawk, long inured to such pastime, stretches forth its neck eagerly in the direction of the flying prey, and being loosened from its pinions, sweeps up into the air like a shot, and passes overhead with incredible velocity. Five minutes more, and the bird has outstripped even the speed of the light-footed gazelle; we see him through the dust and haze that our own speed throws around us, hovering but an instant over the terrified herd; he has singled out his prey, and, diving with unerring aim, fixes his iron talons into the head of the terrified animal.
"This is the signal for the others to break up their orderly retreat, and to speed over the plain in every direction. Some, despite the danger that hovers on their track, make straight for their old and familiar haunts, and passing within twenty yards of where we ride, afford us an opportunity of displaying our skill as amateur huntsmen on horseback; nor does it require but little nerve and dexterity to fix our aim whilst our horses are tearing over the ground. However, the moment presents itself, the loud report of barrel after barrel startles the unaccustomed inmates of that unfrequented waste; one gazelle leaps twice its own height into the air, and then rolls over, shot through the heart; another bounds on yet a dozen paces, but, wounded mortally, staggering, halts, and then falls to the ground.
"This is no time for us to pull in and see what is the amount of damage done, for the falcon, heedless of all surrounding incidents, clings firmly to the head of its terrified victim, flapping its strong wings awhile before the poor brute's terrified eyes, half blinding it and rendering its head dizzy; till, after tearing round and round with incredible speed, the poor creature stops, panting for breath, and, overcome with excessive terror, drops down fainting upon the earth. Now the air resounds with the acclamations and hootings of the ruthless victors.
"The old man is wild in his transports of delight. More certain of the prowess of his bird than ourselves, he has stopped awhile to gather together the fruits of our booty, and, with these suspended to his saddle bow, he canters up leisurely, shouting lustily the while the praises of his infallible hawk; then getting down, and hoodwinking the bird again, he first of all takes the precaution of fastening together the legs of the fallen gazelle, and then he humanely blows up into its nostrils. Gradually the natural brilliancy returns to the dimmed eyes of the gazelle, then it struggles valiantly, but vainly, to disentangle itself from its fetters.
"Pitying its efforts, the falconer throws a handkerchief over its head, and, securing this prize, claims it as his own, declaring that he will bear it home to his house in the mountains, where, after a few weeks' kind treatment and care, it will become as domesticated and affectionate as a spaniel. Meanwhile, Abou Shein gathers together the fallen booty, and, tying them securely with cords, fastens them behind his own saddle, declaring, with a triumphant laugh, that we shall return that evening to the city of Beyrout with such game as few sportsmen can boast of having carried thither in one day."
The gentle nature of the Gazelle is as proverbial as its grace and swiftness, and is well expressed in the large, soft, liquid eye, which has formed from time immemorial the stock comparison of Oriental poets when describing the eyes of beauty.
THE PYGARG, OR ADDAX
The Dishon or Dyshon—Signification of the word Pygarg—Certainty that the Dishon is an antelope, and that it must be one of a few species—Former and present range of the Addax—Description of the Addax—The Strepsiceros of Pliny.
There is a species of animal mentioned once in the Scriptures under the name of Dishon which the Jewish Bible leaves untranslated, and merely gives as Dyshon, and which is rendered in the Septuagint by Pugargos, or Pygarg, as one version gives it. Now, the meaning of the word Pygarg is white-crouped, and for that reason the Pygarg of the Scriptures is usually held to be one of the white-crouped antelopes, of which several species are known. Perhaps it may be one of them—it may possibly be neither, and it may probably refer to all of them.
But that an antelope of some kind is meant by the word Dishon is evident enough, and it is also evident that the Dishon must have been one of the antelopes which could be obtained by the Jews. Now as the species of antelope which could have furnished food for that nation are very few in number, it is clear that, even if we do not hit upon the exact species, we may be sure of selecting an animal that was closely allied to it. Moreover, as the nomenclature is exceedingly loose, it is probable that more than one species might have been included in the word Dishon.
Modern commentators have agreed that there is every probability that the Dishon of the Pentateuch was the antelope known by the name of Addax.
This handsome antelope is a native of Northern Africa. It has a very wide range, and, even at the present day, is found in the vicinity of Palestine,