Chapter 8: My Friend the Serow
To describe accurately and place definitely the serow is a very difficult undertaking, although it is one of the most interesting of the big game of China. Fewer European sportsmen have shot serow than any other of the big-game group, with the probable exception of the takin, which is a very closely allied species. A careful study of the living animal is attended with very great difficulties and is exceedingly hazardous, as the animal is only found upon almost inaccessible cliffs and precipices of the high-altitude mountains. Consequently, serow-hunting is as strenuous sport as can be conceived, but the trophy is well worth the price one pays, for there are but few prizes to be taken in China that can give the sportsman a greater degree of satisfaction than a well-maned serow buck. Both wapiti and big-horn hunting are child's play as compared with serowhunting in southern China.
Scientifically speaking, serow are an offshoot of the Bovidæ, and very probably a member of the subfamily Rupicaprinæ. They seem to occupy an intermediate position between the true goat and the antelope. The horns of both sexes are about the same in shape and size, being very beautifully ringed and rigid, and tapering to a very sharp and dangerous point. So far as I have been able to carry out the study of the horns of the sexes in something like a score or more specimens, I have found those of the female a trifle closer together, though this may not hold as a characteristic difference between the male and the female.
When cornered or brought to bay on a cliff a serow puts up a most terrific fight, ripping dogs viciously with the horns, dashing them lifeless to the depth below. It unhesitatingly attacks man when cornered.
The forms found in the mountains of Japan, China, and India differ considerably in shading and color of mane. The form found in Chekiang and Fukien provinces is the white-maned form, and is very likely Capricornis samatrensis argyrochartes. This is one of the largest forms. I have taken full-grown males weighing more than three hundred pounds, and one female but a trifle, if any, smaller.
On one occasion while hunting in Chekiang province I saw one fine specimen with a rich, brown mane. Whether or not this represents a second form in south China cannot yet be determined.
The color of the China type of serow is a very dark to almost black coat of long coarse hair upon a heavy coat of short light-colored hair. The lower legs are rusty red to almost fox brown. The mane is white, extending well down the back, but heaviest on the neck.
The feet of this goat-antelope are well fitted for cliff climbing. In fact, the animal is so agile upon precipices as to cause a saying among Chinese hunters that the serow's feet are supplied with a secretion of gluelike substance which prevents it from either slipping or falling. I suppose the goral is the only member of the allied family which can compare with the serow as a cliff roamer.
Though I have enjoyed some great sport hunting serow on the cliffs not far from Yenping, Fukien, and have had opportunity for careful study of the animal in its native habitat and at close range in these mountains as perhaps few white men have anywhere, still my most interesting experiences while serow-hunting were in Chekiang Province in September, 1919, when conducting a small expedition especially for specimens of this interesting form, under the auspices of the American Museum of Natural History of New York.
I was asked to devote as much as four weeks if necessary in this immediate region in order to secure representative specimens of the Chekiang serow. I invited a friend, J. H. Snoke, M.D., of Shanghai, who had hunted tigers with me in Fukien, to accompany me on this difficult and uncertain quest. We reached the town of Tung-lu, sixty miles inland from Hangchow, where we were taken in hand by the Rev. H. Castle, who probably is the most experienced serow hunter in China, and to whom is due all the credit for our highly successful trip.
Leaving Tung-lu we traveled twenty miles up a small creek right into the heart of the mountains. The weather was still intensely hot and the foliage still heavy on the trees and underbrush, both conditions rendering hunting extremely difficult, but I had become so accustomed to both that the prospects did not worry me at all.
Arriving at the village of Yaw late in the afternoon, we were met by an old scout who had selected seven chosen men to act as beaters. At any season of the year when the foliage is heavy on the low brush and tangle of vines clinging to the ledges of rocks it is next to useless to undertake to secure serow by the still-hunting method. The only sure way of getting the animals on the move is by sending in beaters who shout and beat the brush, rolling rocks down the cliffs. This method is almost certain to get the animals on the move, when from some distant vantage point a shot is possible. Much of the shooting is necessarily at long range and while the animal is racing across some open space. All the conditions attending hunting serow, so far as my experience goes, are such as to make one feel proud over taking a trophy.
When the old guide called upon us, bringing his beaters, we went as far as possible into the details of the proposed hunt for the following day. But do what he could, our friend Castle was unable to get the old scout to divulge even the direction he would take us. In a hushed tone he assured us the genii of the mountains, known as "The Booster of the Hills," would warn all the serow of our plans to invade their sanctuary, and they would all scurry far back into the range and hide themselves in the home of this god.
To insure an early start in the morning we invited the old hunter and his men to come to our boat for breakfast. This plan proved highly successful, for an hour before the crack of dawn these men were standing lined up on the shore waiting for the gang plank. Each hunter was armed with a sickle for cutting his way through the tangle, and a primitive gun which would doubly insure him a share of any animal taken by any man in the party.
There is an unwritten law among the hunters to the effect that the man actually killing the animal is entitled to the head and skin in recognition of his prowess, the additional parts being equally distributed between the hunters and beaters. I recall one time when I went out to secure a muntjac to divide among the missionaries of my station for Christmas. There were fourteen hunters and hangers-on when the first drive began. Within ten minutes I put up a little deer myself, knocking it right over. This was exactly what I wanted, but in order to get the animal I had walked up and killed I had to purchase for cash fourteen-fifteenths of the flesh at twenty-five cents per pound.
Our hunters became restless to get away as dawn was breaking over the distant crags. When all was in readiness the guide simply waved his long arm toward the rising sun and broke off in silence across the plain. The time had not yet come when it was wise to speak above a whisper suggesting the exact locality we were to visit. The "Booster" was still abroad and would not retire to his cave or cranny until the bats went to rest, a few of which could yet be seen feeding along the stream bed.
Within two hours from the time we left our boat we were standing upon the first saddle of the mountains, three thousand feet above the plain. It had been a stiff climb, during which the hunters never suggested a halt or rest. High peaks and rugged crags were on all sides of us with no escape other than a trail leading into the valley on the opposite side.
Here the scout halted and for the first time announced where we would hunt, pointing out the face of a cliff three miles up the range. To reach this hunting ground the climb was even more strenuous than the one we had left behind, as we had literally to burrow our way through the dense brush and tangle. The heat was intense on account of the humidity, and the forenoon sun was beating down upon us with tremendous power.
In due time we stood at the foot of the cliff from whence we could look far down the divide upon which we had stood near two hours earlier. The going through the brush had been slow and tiring. Not being supplied with canteens we were almost famished for water, so we made a detour in order to get a drink before entering upon the hunt proper. Only those who have been through the ordeal can begin to appreciate what it means to be without water in a land like China.
As we climbed further in order to get our positions, Mr. Castle pointed out place after place where he had routed serow, killing one here and another there, but still the old guide broke trail and led us on into the deeper, wilder regions. Finally halting under a wind-blasted pine, the hunter heaved a long sigh, pointing at the rugged cliff, saying, "There is where we get our first serow."
After consultation with the hunters, Mr. Castle pointed out our various stations, asking me if I could possibly work my way around to a jagged point breaking off like a great wedge driven deep into the side of the range. I scrambled away over some very rough territory, allowing myself fifteen minutes to reach the point before the drive should begin.
Before I had reached my station the beaters began to shout and roll huge rocks down the cliff. I clambered over a precipice, beyond which was the stand I had agreed to take. From the foot of the cliff, and not twenty feet below me, dashed two large serow, stopping under a little cover less than two rods away from whence they bombarded me with hisses and snorts. I dared not halt for a shot lest I fail to carry out my part of the program. Before I reached the bottom of this cliff I heard one of the beaters fire his gun and raise a loud shout.
Though much out of breath when I reached my station I was greatly joyed to hear the beaters announce that the animal was leading in my direction. The course taken would bring it out on the point at or just above the practically barren cliff over which I had just climbed.
While I was trying to compose myself for a sure shot I heard the brush cracking and crashing under the weight of a heavy body. Suddenly the huge buck emerged from the dense cover and dashed across the face of the cliff. The animal had chosen a perfectly safe runway, had I been stationed on the point above the cliff, but as it was I had a fair view of it from the time it broke cover. It resembled more a donkey than any animal of the wilds that I had ever seen. Its white mane was bright in the sunlight. The horns so closely in line with the ears gave the head the appearance of that of a mule.
As the animal reached the open I raised my untried 250-3000 Savage and fired at the shoulder. One shot was all that was necessary, as the animal collapsed in a heap in the brush at the opposite side of the cliff.
I said nothing to anyone about the kill, knowing that such an announcement would frustrate any further drive. Half an hour later, therefore, when I did call out that I had killed a serow none of the hunters believed me. They had seen sportsmen become hysterical upon killing such a trophy, and could not believe me when I announced that I had shot a fine buck. It was not until I had dragged one of the hunters by force to the dead animal that I could get him to believe that I had done anything but fired and missed. When he saw the animal dead before him, he only grunted and said, "What did you keep still about it so long for?"
On the following day we again scaled the cliffs for another drive, but six of the hunters deserted us at noon on account of the intense heat, just at a time when a buck was snorting at us from across a ravine. Even the best Chinese hunters are exasperating at times, not being willing to endure the Fatigue necessary to insure a successful drive. And, too, not understanding the strategy of a hunt, and totally ignoring the matter of direction of the wind, they often render fruitless an otherwise successful hunt.
The signs observed during this second day indicated a rutting season and habits much like those of the common deer of eastern United States. I found great patches of newly pawed earth, as well as many trees and shrubs badly horned.
On Monday morning we were astir at an early hour as a result of the day of rest and relaxation. We attacked the almost perpendicular face of the range at daylight, but it was nearly nine o'clock when we stood upon the top of the divide discussing positions and the drive. Suddenly and without warning a fine buck broke cover and started across the face of a cliff with the grace of a fawn frisking on a lawn. Well-directed shots by Doctor Snoke brought this animal down. One could but wonder how any animal could possibly keep its footing upon such a steep and rugged cliff.
We started two more serow in the next ravine but did not succeed in getting either, as the tangle was too much for us. On account of a change of plans, which now allowed me but a few days to get back to Shanghai and ready to start north to join Roy Chapman Andrews in Peking for an expedition along the Mongolian frontier, we were compelled to cut our serow hunt short. With two fine specimens as a result of three days' hunting we felt well repaid for the trip.
Serow-hunting in Fukien is even more difficult than that I experienced in Chekiang. There are a great many of these animals in the mountains around Yenping, where I have succeeded in securing a fine series for the American Museum of Natural History. Serow-hunting has a fascination about it all of its own, doubtless partly due to the difficulties attending the sport, but the trophy is well worth winning.