2024/05/20

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

Hunter and Hunted

August 01, 1963
Hunting party bags boar after full day's effort and with the aid of 25 dolts (File photo)
"How is the hunting on Taiwan? What is there to shoot?" These are the inevi­table first two questions from visiting sports­men.

From the hunter's point of view, the answers are favorable and interesting. Al­though somewhat depleted during the last decade, game is ample. Duck and pheasant are plentiful in the fall, and wild pigs roam the foothills.

Boar are still hunted with muzzle loaders, spears and shotguns at the urgent request of farmers whose crops are imperiled. Multiplication of the swine by far exceeds their death rate, and they are a farm menace in some areas. Where there are no hunters, farmers tie tin cans to a rope and hang them in trees and on poles in the fields. By pulling on the rope and causing a din of can striking can, farmers try to scare away the night-raiding pigs.

In Taiwan, the wild porkers reach a weight of from 100 to 200 pounds, far less than the normal 300 pounds of their main­land cousins. Some mainland boar weigh as much as 400 pounds. The local wild pig has a very thin bristle growth.

Hunters use native dogs, which are good and vociferous trackers. The sportsman must make his arrangements with local hunters. They will be able to round up the dogs, without which it would be impossible to get near a pig.

The best weapon for Taiwan pigs is a smooth bore gun loaded with buckshot or with a single slug, as effective at short distances as any rifle loaded with magnum bullets. The reason for using a shotgun on pigs is Taiwan's dense population. Stray pellets or even a slug will not fly far, whereas a rifle bullet has a range of at least a mile and may cause injury to people or damage to property. In the wooded foothills the driven quarry will pass a stand of hunters much closer than when stalked, and a shotgun is handier in close shooting.

Fast Men on the Run

Local hunters are wiry and tough. They can outrun even their dogs, or at least keep up with them and be there when a pig has been surrounded by the dogs. The urban sportsman usually will find himself alone, trailing far behind the local hunters and their dogs. He will do well to hunt from a stand, hoping that a wild pig will be driven toward him for a pot shot.

Some idea of a Taiwan pig hunt can be gained from an account of one that took place some time ago but that is still representative.

Seven city hunters participated, among them a novice who had never pulled a shotgun trigger.

The party arrived at Shuang Hsi township on the eve of the hunt and contacted local hunters for drivers and dogs. By next morning's five o'clock start, the party had swelled to 15 men and 25 dogs. The local hunters and drivers had old shotguns, muzzle loaders, and spears. The chief was a man of more than 60 years. He fancied a short white beard. He was sure, energetic, and every inch the leader. Accompanying him was a 16-year-old grandson armed with a short spear. It was the lad's first pig hunt.

The party had to march five miles to the foothills. After a short climb, the leader directed the sportsmen to take up positions along a narrow path. The position was on the rim of a hill, overlooking a gully. The grassy slope of another hill could be seen beyond. The sportsmen were told to look sharp for running pigs along the grass-covered slope after the drive had begun. The new hunter covered the last stand at the opening to the gully.

The local hunters climbed the mountain to drive the pigs toward the sportsmen. Soon the barking of the dogs penetrated the still­ness of the morning and every man tensed. One of the seven waiting hunters thought he would be in a more advantageous position if he crossed the gully and climbed a tree on the opposite slope. He did so.

The chase seemed to come in the direc­tion of the blind several times. Then the pigs would veer and return to the mountain. After two hours, waiting became monotonous. The sportsmen began to move about and talk. The hunter in the tree climbed down and exercised his legs. The new hunter raised his shotgun to pump imaginary shells at an imaginary quarry. Hunger began to gnaw.

Past noon, a farmer appeared with a pot of sweet potato soup. It lasted all of five minutes. Never had sweet potatoes tasted so good. The day wore on into late afternoon. Still no pigs.

The dogs were heard again. Eager sportsmen raced back to their places and the man on the opposite slope again climbed the tree. The barking became louder and louder. Sudden movement could be seen in the high grass on the opposite slope. The hunter in the tree tried to take aim but his perch was too precarious. The undulations passed him by without a shot.

A medium-sized porker emerged from the high grass. It was about 100 yards from the nearest hunter, too far away for an effec­tive shot, but one rang out anyway, the kind usually called a "farewell" by sportsmen. The noise succeeded only in spurring on the pig. With everyone trying for a shot, only one blast roared out and the pig's hindquarters sagged. The novice had made good on his first attempt.

The local hunters and drivers dashed off in pursuit of the wounded pig, leaving the sportsmen to follow as best they could. The pig was soon surrounded in a paddy field and given the coup de grace.

Good Duck Hunting

When autumn comes to Taiwan, it is time for duck hunting. The migrating ducks head for fish ponds, reservoirs, and some rivers. The season lasts about two months.

The ducks come from Siberia and Mon­golia via mainland coastal areas of China. Flying in over the Tamsui river in north Taiwan and alighting in paddy fields along the bank, the ducks are too lean and bony to make good eating. They soon fatten on paddy rice and other grains.

The ducks are wise in their way of finding feed. They prefer to remain in areas where rice is being harvested. In the even­ings they alight in cut fields or those ready for harvest, then gorge themselves. They move north with harvest activities. By early winter, ducks are fat and clumsy and stay in irrigation ponds or on the sea close to the shore, waiting for spring and their return to the continent.

The wise sportsman follows the route of the ducks. He starts hunting them in the south and keeps moving north, ending at the northernmost point of Taiwan beyond the Grass Mountain range, where he may get some good evening flight shooting. The smooth bore gun loaded with No. 4 or No. 6. pellets is used.

Of the more than 70 duck species, only a few visit this island: the mallard, black duck, canvas back, shoveler, blue-wing and green­-wing teals, and occasionally the pintail.

The common bean goose flies over from the mainland once in a while. Only two or three Taiwan sportsmen have succeeded in bagging one. Flocks of no more than five at a time have been spotted.

Another occasional visitor is the lesser bustard. A shy game bird, it seldom alights in farm surroundings. It has been seen aflight by only a few sportsmen.

The diminutive common snipe passes through Taiwan in August and again in spring. Seldom is there any good shooting of this long-billed, stilt-legged worm eater. Because of its small size, the snipe is left alone by most sportsmen and local hunters, who regard it as not worth the shot. Also to be found is the slightly larger painted snipe.

The bigger woodcock makes a rare ap­pearance on Taiwan. It is seen and shot in­frequently.

Hunting time for the ringneck pheasant starts in the fall. It is a favorite of sports­men because of its fine meat and the easy shooting localities. Pheasants prefer the plains to the mountains. They thrive in the semi-tropical climate and often roost in the sugar cane plantations of central Taiwan.

Unfortunately, the ringneck has been overhunted by unscrupulous hunters and netters who even remove eggs from the nest. However, due to its rugged constitution and adaptability, the pheasant will always survive. It is especially challenging to hunt a wily old cock that has had several years experience in evading hunters. Without a hunting dog, it is virtually impossible to bag such a bird.

The sportsman usually uses the 12 gauge shotgun for pheasant and No.6 pellets are ideal. Some experienced hunters shoot pheasant with still smaller pellets, No. 7½, in order not to spoil the tender meat.

Elusive Partridge

In the deep mountain forests can be found the rare caperaillie, a smaller version of the European trophy bird. It is of dark color. The Japanese gave it the name "Im­perial Pheasant". Because of its impenetrable forest haunts no sportsman has bagged one.

Another bird of the same family is the Lady Amherst pheasant. It is more colorful than the capercaillie. Its body feathers are a deep blue, it has white tail feathers and a red beak and red legs. This pheasant lives in the mountainous woodlands at about 2,000 feet. Lumberjacks occasionally have trapped it. It is slightly larger than the common pheasant.

A smaller bird is the bamboo partridge, found in the ravines of Taiwan's foothills. Heavy undergrowth and bamboo give it good protection against predators and sportsmen. It may owe its survival to a hide-and-seek method of evading danger. When pressed, a flock of bamboo partridges never takes to long flight. The birds fly in short spurts and alight in a handy bush or behind a tree. The sportsman is not given sufficient time to lift and aim his shotgun.

The smallest game bird is the Japanese button quail, which can be found in waste tracts with some vegetation and grassy cover. It is too small for most sportsmen, but a bag of 10 or 12 quail makes a succulent dish.

An elusive game bird is the dove. In recent years, the number of doves has dimin­ished in the northern part of Taiwan. This is not due to excessive shooting, but to rapid expansion of the population into the rural areas. New villages and houses have left the birds with fewer roosting places. There are several varieties of dove, the most common being the spotneck, which has white dots on the light purple background of its nape. There is also the larger-sized turtle dove. Another smaller dove is steel gray. One with shimmering light green feathers can be found in central Taiwan.

Time of Plenty

When the Japanese left Tai­wan in 1945, game birds were given a respite for multiplication. The Chinese of Taiwan had not yet taken up hunting. Pheasants freely roamed the fields of eastern Taiwan and there was an abundance of bamboo partridges and doves. Hunters were so few that farmers welcomed anyone carrying a gun. Bags of 20 to 30 birds were common.

Duck shooting then was a delight. There was no competition to speak of, and fish farmers were glad to provide a boat and man the oars. In the years just after 1945, teal and other ducks showed up in feathered clouds of two to three hundred at the fish ponds in the Toucheng county area. During the morning and evening flights, hunters could get bags of 12 to 15 without difficulty.

Taiwan-born Chinese were barred from hunting during the Japanese occupation. In fact, natives were not permitted to own fire­-arms. However, after the restoration of Taiwan, the Chinese gradually learned the once forbidden sport. When the Japanese were repatriated, they gave or sold their hunting dogs and gear to the natives. Some of the native Chinese developed into good hunters. A few more profit-minded made a good business out of selling hunting dogs.

Status Symbol Hunting

In the 1950's, many natives took to hunt­ing overnight as they became affluent. A shotgun and hunting outfit were status sym­bols. Such hunters often bought a motor­cycle and plied the highways a hundred miles around, carrying a hunting companion be­hind. Often as not, the companion held a pointer. When a duck or pheasant was bagged, it was taken to one of the sporting goods shops for display. Fortunately, these hunters did not last long. They soon veered toward other and less strenuous pastimes.

The true native hunter is able and tenacious. He does not mind getting himself muddied or soaked. He can rough it, jump­ing into a waist-high fish pond in winter to retrieve game. Unfortunately, such hunters sometimes are lacking in sense of wildlife conservation and have even shot at decoy ducks. In summer, some wear aluminum shin guards against the numerous poisonous snakes rather than give up hunting out of season.

Another hunting type is the one who is solely after wild pigs. He may be a farm­hand or a specialist who hires out to guide sportsmen or who arranges local hunts at request of farmers. This kind of hunter uses muzzle loaders, old shotguns, and even spears. He keeps scavenger dogs - half-starved but faithful and loud-barking trackers. Farmers are only too happy to have such hunters help them keep down the local wild pig population.

One Hunter Too Many

Professional hunters who shoot for the market are not to be found on Taiwan. Once there was a diehard, tenacious Taichung hunter who was close to being a professional. It was alleged that he had cleared out the pheasant stock of the Tatu hill region in central Taiwan and had started looking for game birds elsewhere. One autumn day he appeared in Hualien county and started hunt­ing. Soon pheasants were offered for sale on the market, an event which had never occurred before.

Hualien sportsmen speedily looked into the matter and found the hunter had killed more than 150 pheasants in three weeks. Members of the Hualien hunting association threatened to prosecute and the hunter departed.

Members of some aborigine tribes still support themselves by hunting, although most have taken up farming. These hunters are good trackers and may cover long distances in the chase. About two years ago, several aborigine hunters from Hualien county appeared in the Yangmingshan park area where hunting is strictly prohibited. They were rounded up by police and sent home. They came over the mountains all the way from Hualien, close to 100 miles away, in quest of game.

Among big game animals that roam the hills and mountains of Taiwan is the "water deer", a large antlered ruminant similar in size to the American black-tail deer. The deer population has been decimated by local hunters seeking its "velvet horn".

Retreat to the Hills

The water deer is hunted in May and June, when new antlers have started to grow. The new growth carries small blood vessels under a velvety cover. Chinese medicine shops pay a high price for the velvet, which is supposed to possess vitality-giving proper­ties.

Another deer species is the spotted deer, which now lives in the remotest mountains, chased there by the incessant hunting of the aborigines. It is smaller than the "water deer" and has white dots on its body. The stag has widespread antlers. The only hunters who still succeed in bagging this deer are the aborigines, who shoot for food.

There are two other species: the serow and the muntjac. The serow is found in the high mountains and rarely can be seen. The muntjac is the smallest member of the Taiwan deer family. It roams the foothills freely and keeps alive by its speed and agility. When captured, this deer easily reconciles itself to captivity.

The black bear makes its habitat in the central mountain range. It is small and feeds on roots and berries and perhaps on bamboo shoots. Only in the severest of winter weather do black bears descend from the snow-covered mountains. Aborigine hunters say they do not hibernate.

In the craggy mountains along the east coast live the goral and the chamois, the latter having been imported from Europe by the Japanese. The goats are seldom bagged, because hunters find the climbing too strenuous and dangerous.

Among small game is the hare. This rodent is more or less nocturnal. It usually hides in thickets and holes by day, coming out in the evening to food on farm crops. However, a hunting dog may help the hunter sniff out a hare once in a while. The hare is grayish brown and it is smaller than its mainland cousin. Also, the Taiwan hare seems slower and less agile.

The gray squirrel is found in highland forests. Though a game animal with meat good for the table, it is usually ignored be­ cause of its small size.

Not so the "flying squirrel", which is reddish-brown and larger. It is shot by local hunters and mounted for sale to tourists.

Monkeys and Wildcats

Not to be counted as a game animal is the monkey, which thrives in the mountains. Monkeys travel in hordes, eating wild fruit, roots and berries. Although Taiwan sportsmen will not shoot them, the monkeys are trapped for sale to zoos or as pets. Aborigine hunters kill them for food and also for sale to medicine shops, which pay a good price for brain and glands.

The absence of formidable predators, other than man, has assured the survival of Taiwan game animals and birds. There are a few species of wildcat but they do little damage to wildlife. One is a nocturnal civet cat of dark gray color with a black face and tail. It is often trapped by farmers and its meat is said to be a gourmet's delight.

"Flying squirrels" are shot for taxidermists (File photo)

The common wildcat, called a "stone tiger", can be found in rural areas. It causes slight damage to domestic fowl.

The larger sized "leopard cat" is known as the "Taiwan leopard". It is on its way to extinction. A few may still be found in the mountains of east Taiwan in the area of the Ta Chu Shui.

To hunt on Taiwan, the sportsman must have a gun license and a hunting license, both issued by local police. Fees are nominal.

Hunting laws exist but are often ignored. Most sportsmen heed those prohibiting hunt­ing within 100 meters of railroads or highways and within city limits or near military establishments. Seasons are stipulated but often violated, because game wardens do not exist. Mostly, the sportsman is on an honor system not to deplete the supply of game wantonly or unfairly.

Taiwan hunting is changing. More con­servation is inevitable as civilization takes its toll of wildlife. For the moment, how­ever, the sport is good—rewarding in both experience and the kill.

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