With this story, I take me back to the XNUMXs when with a dear friend of mine I decided to take an excursion to the Ernici mountains, mountains of Sora, to check that there were rock partridges.
We left very early from our village, Arpino in the province of Frosinone, passing through Isola del Liri, San Domenico and near where today we take the Sora Frosinone motorway. We took a small road that took us right to the foot of the mountain. We then found a track and with my XNUMX we began to climb. Destination to reach "The thirty beech trees" an area sought after by hikers and placed very high.
The first part of the road, steep and full of large stones, could only be tackled with a five hundred, in some places my friend had to get out and move some large stones to make room for the wheels of the car that climbed laboriously, but we managed to do it . The road then became more comfortable and we proceeded discreetly, all of a sudden my friend asked me to stop for an urgent need, I stopped and immediately disappeared into the night. I took the opportunity to open the glass of the car, for a change of air. We carried two dogs in the sixteenth century, as I lowered the window I heard the running of animals, I tried to direct the headlights in that direction, but I saw nothing, at the end of the headlights, however, a shadow appeared to me.
My friend came back and I told the fact, he did not give him any weight, on the contrary he invited me to close the car because it was cold, but I was not at all persuaded I continued to see the shadow and then with decision I got out, took a small pocket flashlight, loaded the rifle and I walked towards the shadow that as I approached it seemed to me to look more and more like a wild boar. It was completely still and this left me with some doubts. From about ten meters I threw a stone with force, the shadow moved but not much, I then took courage and approached and with the light of the flashlight I noticed a glint of chain. It was a "domestic sow" with a chain around her neck and tied to a tree. I called my friend and soon everything was clear to us. The sow in heat had been brought this high with a tractor to mate with real boars. So I explained where some wild boars were displayed in a well-known butcher's shop well adorned with green laurel branches. I was pleased with the discovery but even more pleased that I had not been a furious shooter.
We resumed our journey. Suddenly the road disappeared and we had to proceed on foot. We were exactly in front of our town, below us a great show of lights: San Domenico and the whole Liri valley. Still spacing the villages perched under the mountains of Val Comino, Alvito, San Donato, Sette Frati and Picinisco, all from our province, appeared very far away. It was still night when we started walking up a small path that intersected between woods and mountains. After walking long enough and in absolute silence before daybreak we stopped to rest and enjoy the silent murmur of the mountain, to then attend the great spectacle of the arrival of the new day and finally to wait for the call of the rock partridges which always happens shortly before. dawn. The call came clear and harmonious, it was a good flight of rock partridges.
With great enthusiasm we resumed climbing, it was now day and the top where we thought the rock partridges were appeared very far away and all uphill, we had to proceed slowly and in silence without falling stones or anything else. The rock partridges after the call listen and perceive even the slightest noise and if they feel danger they emit a start call and completely change the area. Life is a precious gift for everyone and mother nature, so perfect towards every creature, has given everyone the opportunity to love and defend it at all costs and the rock partridges teach it.
Throughout my long life as a hunter, and as an admirer and lover of nature, the same thought has always occurred to me: I was struggling so much to be able to meet a rock partridge and after having successfully completed the operation, when my faithful dog brought me back a lifeless one, I felt a sense of guilt because I had deprived such an interesting noble and perfect creature to continue to dominate the highest peaks and the immense gullies. It is not without reason that the rock partridge is called the Queen of the mountains. After this parenthesis I return to the story.
We were halfway there when my friend and I decided to make the last approach by splitting up. Climbing one on one side and one on the other, we would have covered the mountain better.
After walking well my dog suddenly felt a "pass" of rock partridges and began the chase with halves still and crawling faster and faster. I tried with my strength to follow him, but then I was forced to stop, I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to warn my friend by making signs with my hands. I could not speak or whistle, the rock partridges were already alerted and ready to go. My dog disappeared among some rocks and I stop to wait. Suddenly a big whisk. The rock partridges started from behind a rock and I saw them late, they passed me by the side and I was forced to shoot with a thrust, thus sending my three shots to empty. My friend saw nothing, I tried to follow its flight, but very fast they crossed a beech forest thus losing all traces.
We looked for them again, having no reference, disconsolately, we resumed the way back, but not after having studied the mountain well and with the firm intention of returning. We knew the area well enough, it was just a matter of getting my friend to stay below the wooded strip thus observing the shed. Eight days later we showed up for the appointment, we left comfortably from our village, we knew the road, the path, the wood, I had the longest walk to get to the top and find the rock partridges and with the agreement that I should have anyway shoot to warn my friend.
I traveled the last stretch of the mountain with great effort and in silence, arrived on the spot I rested a little, the sun was already high and it was hot. I untied the dog that already felt the "pass" that happened shortly after and higher up and remained stationary. I tried to put myself in a good position. The rock partridges took off making a great noise but before they picked up speed I landed two but without any skill, firing into the pile. I followed them to the woods then they disappeared. My friend did not fire and I learned later that he could not even locate the point of return well.
Satisfied, after having arranged the two rock partridges, I decided to return by another way and began the descent. It was about eleven o'clock when walking I noticed a lonely horse coming down from the mountain in front of ours, among the rocks, like a goat, with a brisk and sure step, he knew where to go. for an old love I had for horses, I sat comfortably to follow him and fantasize. It was chestnut in color, with a thick gold-colored mane that swayed. I followed him until he disappeared.
I started walking again thinking about where he could go and where he came from. Perhaps from the mountains of Prato di Campoli, an area of the municipality of Veroli, which borders a chain of Abruzzo mountains, in fact, along a ridge that offers a great view over the entire Roveto valley, there is a carved stone column over a meter high. and roundabout that delineates the border between Frosinone and L'Aquila.
I found my friend, it was about six o'clock, we sat down to eat and redo the situation. It was difficult to find the rock partridges and in my opinion they were already returning to their habitat and therefore useless to go and look for them. We rested for a while and then resumed the way back.
While we were getting off with the car, at the last bend I noticed some horses grazing downstream and towards us a "horse rider". I stopped the car and begged my friend to drive down alone, we would meet again later. I headed for the horse and asked him about the chestnut horse that came down the mountain. He confirmed his arrival and added "She is a beautiful mare, but she was unlucky as the stallion she was looking for is busy in the cottage with a mare from her group who lost her foal to an abortion last night."
I asked where they were and he pointed to an area higher up. I did not think twice and went where he had indicated me. I came across a show that I have never forgotten and that I have always told for good. A Maremma stallion, very beautiful, with too large hooves, kept his head towards the ground, close to that of the mare who had lost her foal during the night. When I arrived they didn't even look at me, they both remained closed in their suffering.
There was also the mare that I had followed so much, with great frenzy she teased the stallion with small bites and invited him in every way to follow her, but the stallion remained faithful to his place.
I would have stayed longer, but my friend kept calling me and I joined him.
Story by Aldo Palma.