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CHAMOIS HUNTING
MOUNTAINS OF BAVARIA
BY
CHARLES BONER,
TOitJ Illustrations,
By THEODORE HOESCHELT,
OF MUKICH.
LONDON :
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.
1853.
^ k^
PRINTED BY
JOnK EDWABB TATLOU, LITTLB QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.
PREFACE.
I
In the following pages will be found several German
words often repeated ; for much as I dislike the ad-
mixture of one language with another, the present
case left me without an alternative, the words in ques-
tion not having an equivalent in my own tongue. I
have therefore employed " Laane," " Latschen," etc.,
each time any mention is made of these objects, think-
ing it was better to do so, than adhere pedantically
to some English explicative, which would fail, after
all, in conveying the exact meaning.
The compositions from the pencil of Mr. Horschelt
need no praise of mine. The happy arrangement of
each small picture speaks for itself; and we both
may esteem ourselves fortunate in having found so
m skilful a hand as Mr. Hohe's to transfer them to the
■ stone.
IV PREFACE.
With regard to the scenes represented, I would
observe, that they were chosen as giving a general
notion of the mountains, rather than of the difficult
and dangerous places met with by the Chamois
Hunter. Indeed not one of the views shows a po-
sition of any peril. I was anxious to avoid every-
thing that might appear like exaggeration ; and for
this reason a sketch ("Descending the Mountain,")
which Mr. Horschelt had made was omitted, lest
the daring hardihood displayed therein might excite
doubts as to its truth.
In the descriptions, also, it was equally my aim to
keep rather within the limits to which I might have
gone. Some forms, perhaps, appeared to me more
grand, and certain bright effects more beautiful, than
they might have done to another : however I am not
aware of having given to either an undue importance
or a too heightened colouring. What I saw is de-
scribed as / saw it. My wish has been to reflect back
on the page those pictures which, as they passed, my
memory had retained ; to impart to others the same
vivid impressions which my own mind had received.
Charles Boner.
St. Emeran, Eatisbon,
January 10, 1852.
CONTENTS.
fart i\t lirst.
CHAPTER I.
Page
INTEODUCTOEY CHAPTEE .... .1
CHAPTER II.
APPEOACHINO THE MOUNTAINS 10
CHAPTER III.
AFTEE THE GOOD STAG 28
CHAPTER IV.
THE STAG IN THE EUTTING SEASON .... 34
CHAPTER V.
WALK TO FISCHBACHAU 41
CHAPTER VI.
TTP THE MIESING 53
VI CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VII.
Page
AFTER THE CHASE. THE SOLACHERS .... 78
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CHAMOIS 89
CHAPTER IX.
KEEUTH 106
CHAPTER X.
THE ALM HtJTTE 122
CHAPTER XI.
AN UNLUCKY DAY ....... 140
CHAPTER XII.
THE EISS 154
CHAPTER Xm.
A day's SPOET on THE KEAMMETS BEEG . . . 169
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FALL. TO HOHENBUEG AND KEEUTH . . . 192
CHAPTER XV.
BAIEEISCH ZELL 211
CHAPTER XVI.
ON THE MOUNTAIN 220
CHAPTER XVII.
MEETING WITH POACHEES 235
CONTENTS. t^^^P Vll
CHAPTER XVIII.
Page
THE PEEPARATION . . . , . . .251
CHAPTER XIX.
TO PAETENKIECHEN 257
CHAPTER XX.
UP THE MOUNTAIN . * 264
CHAPTER XXI.
HOMEWARDS 291
CHAPTER XXII.
THE OESTER BERG 302
CHAPTER XXIII.
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN 313
CHAPTER XXIV.
OLD BUCK 326
CHAPTER XXV.
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE 342
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE KROTENKOPP AND THE KRAMER .... 352
Vlll
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A CHAPTER ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN
Page
3(59
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER THE LAST
879
fist 0f |lto$ttati0ns.
FRONTISPIECE. — CHAMOIS.
RETURNING FROM THE CHASE
SENNERINN ON THE MOUNTAIN — VIGNETTE .
GETTING A SHOT
A "GRABEN"
COTTAGE IN THE BAVARIAN HIGHLANDS — VIGNETTE
TARGET SHOOTING VIGNETTE
AFTER THE WOUNDED CHAMOIS
A SENN HUTTE — VIGNETTE ....
CHAMOIS — VIGNETTE
VIEW OVER "das STEINENE MEER"
A DIFFICULT PLACE — VIGNETTE
Page
19
27
69
187
210
219
289
325
366
399
410
CHAMOIS HUNTING
THE MOUNTAINS OF BAVARIA.
INTEODUCTOEY CHAPTER.
BOUT twelve years ago I went out for the first
time in my life to shoot deer. It was winter, and
every attendant circumstance had the delightftd ex-
citement of novelty. As the woods whither we were
going were some distance ofi", the whole party assem-
bled betimes to a substantial breakfast. Then came
the departure in the light sledges ; each of us packing
himself up in furs, and his feet and legs in coverings
of sheepskin, to bid defiance to the sharp dry air,
that was piercing enough to penetrate through every
covering. Once off, the merry jingle of the bells
on the horses' heads, the flying snow-fiakes as the
light-limbed Hungarian horses dashed on over the
C frozen surface — the benumbed passers through
■
I
CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the streets shuffling along still half asleep, stopping
however as we swept by — the partly hidden faces
peeping from the windows, as the mingled melody of
the many bells told what was coming — all afforded
me amusement and gave me intense pleasure. There
was then the arrival at the place of our destination,
the forester's house, where all his men and under-
gamekeepers drawn up in order were awaiting our
arrival- — the troop of beaters, uncouth, wild-looking
peasants, clothed in every description of dress it is
possible to imagine — the conversation with the head-
keeper about the game, and the questions as to the
day's sport — anxious inquiries too from one of the
party, whether a deer that he had wounded some days
before had been found or not — in short the whole
scene in which I had become an actor was totally
new and strange to me, and I looked on, curious to
see what novelty would happen next.
Each little incident that has so often since seemed
like an every-day occurrence, was full of interest then.
We went out at last into the forest, where all was
frost-bound, and every branch and twig inclosed in
a crystal covering; where not a sound was heard,
except the distant tramp of the beaters on the crack-
ling snow, as they wound upwards through a hollow.
Presently I was left alone at my appointed stand.
By-and-bye the sharp sound of a rifle came tingling
through the clear air, and soon after a troop of deer
would come stepping along quite scared and wonder-
ing over the snow. It was a new world to me, all
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
t
this, and every incident gave me fresh dehght. Later
came the chase of the boar ; and in summer-time I
H was on the hills, or moving amid the deep stillness of
the woods at noon after the majestic stag. T/iat, I
thought, surpassed everything in enjoyment: the
beautiful scenes into which it led me, the exciting
circumstances that were constantly occurring, the
gallant bearing of the magnificent creature that my rifle
had at last brought down — all this caused my whole
being to thrill with longing and with joy. After such
a day in the forest, there was the sweet pleasure of
going over every incident again in thought; I saw
the mighty stag as he moved over the green sward
f in stately pride, I felt anew the hope and the fear
and the breathless longing, and I once more stood over
him as his vast form lay stretched upon the earth in
the sunny beech-forest. At that time I lived in such
sweet absorbing memories, or in anticipation of what
was to come. For a day in the woods, with my rifle
over my shoulder and the hope of meeting the red
deer, I should have given up anything.
■ At last, however, as a matter of course I grew
somewhat calmer. My delight was not diminished —
it was as great as ever ; but the flutter, and the pal-
pitation, and the burning impatience, were subdued.
And indeed there was much need they should be.
Then too I became initiated in the mysteries of the
noble art, and by degrees learned to look on what
belonged to it with a more tranquil eye. And when
C^ht how new and strange all had once appeared
B 2
4 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
to me, how delighted I had been on first stalking
through the forest, and how many there were inEngland
to whom such exquisite pastime was quite unknown,
it seemed that if I attempted to describe what had
afforded me so much pleasure, the subject was one
that could not fail to interest others also. I carried
this idea long about with me, indolently delaying to
execute what I had planned, when behold ! another
did what I had only thought of doing, and Mr. Scrope's
book on Deer Stalking appeared. At the moment I
was about to preach myself a sermon for my indo-
lence, with a wise moral about the evils of delay,
etc., but after a time I began to think the evil was
not so great after all, and that it was very well as it
was ; much better indeed than had two works on the
same subject appeared simultaneously.
Year after year passed away thus, and, thanks to the
great kindness of the noble possessor of the extensive
forests where I shot my first red deer, I afterwards
enjoyed the privilege of always joining his party
when the season began. Overlooking the Danube
the woods through which we ranged extended on
every side for many miles. Right pleasant days were
those, when we were met in the morning by the young
foresters bringing their report of where the deer were
to be found. The young fellows had been abroad
since the dawn, and had crossed the furthest hill-top
and skirted many a wood to be ready by the time
of our arrival. They now came pouring in from all
sides to the trysting-place, bringing with them the ex-
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
pected intelligence. In Stein Seigen were two stags,
one of ten and the other of twelve*; indeed he might
have fourteen, so large was his shot. Another had
been round Hell Berg and Schopf Loh, but had seen
nothing. He had seen tracks of deer, it is true, but
they were old ones ; and where the deuce they had
gone to he could not think. They must have been
disturbed, for " he had had them there" for four suc-
cessive days, and they were there yesterday. Sud-
denly perhaps a messenger would arrive, all breath-
less with haste, with such speed had he come
down the steep path that leads through the forest
to the village. He brought the news that the
stag which had disappeared so suddenly was come
back again. "The same that Count H. missed
lately ?" " Yes, the very same :" he was now in a
small wood on the hill-side in the next forest, and
a young peasant who was quick of foot had been
despatched immediately to inform His Highness of
the event. Such was the information contained in the
head-forester's hastily written note. What excite-
ment was there then, and what hopes and question-
ings ! As I look back on these days, I can hardly
beheve that all is now over, that the forests are as
deserts, no longer peopled by their red inhabitants —
that these, like the Red Indian of the prairie, have been
* An expression made use of above may need explanation. The
points on the antlers of a stag increase in number with his years ; to
them therefore reference is always made when denoting the age and
size of the animal. " A stag of twelve " is one with twelve points op
branches to his antlers.
O CHAMOIS HUNTING.
hunted down and exterminated, and their haunts,
once so full of life, become silent and lonely.
I think it would be quite impossible for me to
describe the sensations, the exquisite delight of that
delicious time. The freshness of the morning, the
deep stillness of the woods at noon, the green and
golden pageantry as the sunbeams pierced through
a thousand crevices in the leafy roof, the breathless
expectation when a light foot-fall told me the forest
king was approaching — everything, in short, that
belonged to the hunter's life was full of pleasurable
sensations. But soon even these delights were to
give way to others still more exciting. Our party
during the shooting season was usually joined by
two gentlemen, who went regularly to the mountains
to hunt chamois. Often of an evening, after a day in
the forest, and while we all were sitting over our coffee
after dinner, they would relate some adventure that
had befallen them while watching for a strong buck
high up among the snowy fastnesses of Berchtes-
gaden, or tell of the merry life they led on the
less formidable mountains and in the Senn Hiitten*
of Baierisch Zell; while on another occasion our
very blood would almost curdle, as we Hstened and
heard how one of them had crept along the narrow
ridge of a precipice near the Ober See, to fetch a
chamois he had shot ; and how, had his foot slipped
* Senn Hiltte, the same as " Chalet." The hut inhabited by the
herdsmen and the dairy -maids during their summer sojourn on the
mountain.
prl
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
or his head grown dizzy, he must have dropped per-
pendicularly through the air into the lake far far
below him. And to these tales of adventure I
listened with as much eagerness and curiosity as I
had done, when a boy, to tales of shipwreck and of
sailor life ; and with the same feeling too, — an ardent
longing to share in such adventurous pastime. The
other, more susceptible perhaps than his companion
to the glories around him, would describe the scene
that presented itself to his astonished gaze, when,
having gained the summit of the mountain, the mists
suddenly parting let in the golden Hght of the rising
sun, and showed huge rocks and precipices, and green
herbage, and high-up valleys all lying close before
him at his feet. There was genuine enthusiasm in
all these descriptions, and, hke all genuine feehng, it
did not fail of its effect. I could no longer resist
the desire to move with rifle at my back amid such
scenes ; to step along those narrow ledges of rock, or
creep up through the steep ravines which had become
almost like well-known places to me, so much had I
heard about them and so particular had been my
questionings; and at last the wish I had cherished
for years was reahzed, and I stood upon the moun-
tain-top and saw the chamois among the rocks.
Deer-stalking in the forest, with all its pleasures
and excitement, was but tame sport to this. I could
now well understand how with some it could become a
passion so strong and irresistible that not even all the
hazards of a poacher's life prevented its gratification.
O CHAMOIS HUNTING.
The magnificent scenery, the daring and the danger,
the vigour and elasticity of limb which the pure
mountain air imparted, the glorious sunrise over-
flooding gradually the plains of snow, the loud cry
of joy of the peasant-girl ringing upwards to the very
sky, — all this sent a thrill through my whole frame,
and my blood seemed to feel the thrill and tingled
with exultation.
What would I not have often given could hearty
old Christopher North have been with me to enjoy
the sight, — to have watched the driving mists coming
upwards from the valley, and have listened for a sound
amid that silence and solitude. He rather paints
than describes ; his words are colour, with which he
fills a canvas, and so presents you with a picture of
the scene. And then, too, that other master of his
art, Edwin Landseer — ^what a new field was here for his
truthful pencil ! Hardly a day ever passed but some
grand effect, some picturesque group, or some striking
incident reminded me of him, and made me wish that
he could be there, to catch the happy moment and
give it a permanent existence. The peculiar tone of
that mountain scenery, the expressive features and
bold characteristic bearing of the chamois, the occa-
sionally perilous positions of the hunter, — all this, and
much more beside, would, with his poetic mind and
wonderfully skilful handling, afford such pictures as
even his hand has not yet produced.
I had given up my intention of describing the red-
deer and the forest as soon as Mr. Scrope's book
INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
appeared; but when the new world that mountain
life presents opened upon me, the former wish arose
I again, and I determined that chamois -hunting should
now be my theme. It was a subject of which
nothing was known in England, and I felt sure that if
I were able to impart to what I wrote but a tithe of
the charm which the scenes described really possess,
it could not fail to interest. Should it not do so, the
fault is solely mine.
10
CHAPTER II.
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
He only who has dwelt in the mountains, or has wan-
dered for a time over their sides and through their
valleys, — ^who has entered the simple but comfortable
cottages, and chatted familiarly with the peasantry in
their own pecuUar dialect about their occupations and
their pastimes ; — such a one only can form a notion of
the feeling of delight which is experienced when at
length a sudden turn in the road shows him the mighty
forms striving upwards to the sky, their peaks, may be,
gleaming brightly with a covering of snow, or, if the
air be clear and it still be summer weather, appearing
with that beautiful deep blue tint which forms the
distance in the South. There is something so cheering
and gladdening in the sight ! It calls to mind familiar
greetings and rough but hearty welcomings, — pleasant
returnings homeward from the chase, and song and the
merry dance. Already with the mind's eye is seen the
wide view from the momitain-top ; you again snuiff the
I
I
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
pure bracing air; and the shout and the Jodler* of
the shepherd-boy or Sennerinn\ abeady resound in
your ears.
As we approach the now near horizon all wears a
different character. The houses are built otherwise,
and have altogether another look than those we passed
before ; the roofs project over the sides and are bordered
with some simple ornaments ; a light wooden balcony
is before the windows of the first story, and the walls
are of snowy whiteness, and the trellis-work and doors
and shutters are neatly and even tastefully painted.
It looks gay, and green, and cheerful, jfnd on the
roofs we now see a bell, which, swinging between its
cross-beams, calls home those who are in the fields to
dinner or to supper. It is a sign that the wealth of
the peasant here consists in pasture-land ; and indeed
no corn is seen, but the slopes and plain are covered
with rich grass and with lowing kine. And then, too,
the passers-by ! The green pointed hat, worn alike
by both sexes, with its golden tassel and gay flowers on
the brim ; the grey joppel and short leathern breeches
of the men ; the gold-embroidered boddice and striped
petticoat of the women are now not only more frequent,
but are almost exclusively seen ; and if we stop at a
village, all that meets the eye tells us at once we are
* Jodler. The peculiar song of all mountaineers, the high notes
being always a falsetto. The Brothers Rainer, now in England,
sing it in perfection.
t Senner — Sennerinn. Dairy-man — dairy-maid.
X Joppe is the loose short coat worn by the mountaineer of Bava^
ria, and by the Tyrolian peasantry.
12 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
among another race than those we left behind in the
flat country. It sounds pleasantly too — gratefully fall-
ing on the heart rather than on the ear — ^that friendly
*' Grus8 di GottT (God greet ye!) with which each
one salutes you as he enters the inn or place where
you may be. There is a heartiness and simplicity, an
absence of all conventional formality in the salutation
and the manner of it, very characteristic of, and ac-
cording well with, a mountain people. And how
clean the village looks, how neat and healthy its in-
habitants ! They live better and work less hard than
the peasanlry of the more northern provinces; they
are not exposed to a burning sun during the harvest
season, nor to the wet and cold attendant on field
labour. They are up on the mountain pasturages in
summer, and in autumn and winter are comfortably
housed in their snug cottages in the valley. Their
corn they buy, and from their herds on the mountain
they derive milk and butter and cheese in abundance ;
and thus may be said to live literally on the very fat
of the land.
But how distinct the blue peaks become ! We shall
soon be at their base, nor will it be very long, we hope,
before we are mounting their sides, and stepping care-
fully along yonder ridge that cuts the sky so sharply !
For that is the Plan Berg, and some chamois are still
there, and it is the place where we hope, with the
forester's permission, to get a few days' stalking. How
clear the air is ! The outline of every distant object
is seen with wonderful distinctness: there is not a
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS. 13
cloud in the sky, and the sun hghts up the woodland
slopes, and makes their sober brown and gold look
quite gay and festal on this lovely autumnal morning.
And there is Tegernsee, its broad expanse of water
as waveless as the air, and as clear and lucid too. A
single boat is moving lazily across from a cottage on
P the opposite shore, and you wonder how so young a
girl as she who is rowing can get such a cumbrous
craft to move along even thus quickly. The broad
brim of her green hat shades the upper part of her
face ; but that only makes the brightness of her black
eyes the more apparent, and round her head are twined
the braids of her long thick hair, just as it is worn by
■ the women of the Tyrol. The silken kerchief crossed
over her full bosom is tucked in her boddice ; and if
the mieder* does seem too tight, it is rather from the
swelling luxuriance of eighteen summers, than from
any effort made in plying her rude pair of oars. She
always had a friendly smile for you on entering her
boat ; though, as it seemed, she was not without her
little stock of sorrow; for as I one day rowed by a
H * Mieder is the stiff boddice of silk or velvet worn by the women.
It is either richly embroidered, or, in some parts, a silver chain is
passed like a lace from one side to the other, and fastened with hooks
of silver. Indeed much luxury is often displayed in the dress of
^ these country lasses. The cap {Riegel Hauhe) of the Munich girls,
■ for example, contains a considerable quantity of the precious metal.
^ The men too, in the low-lands especially, are given to display in their
buttons. A rich peasant may often be seen with a long row of these
down the front of his coat, one overlapping the other, each being
formed of a broad sUver coin of two groats value ; on his waistcoat
B the same. On the frieze joppe of the mountaineer, however, there is
14 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
country-house whose garden was reflected in the lake,
she looked up wistfully at the closed windows ; and I
learned afterwards that the Jager of the family, who
had now left their villa for the town, was her lover,
and that he had not yet written to her since they
parted. " He has not forgotten me, I know," said
Marie, with her usual pretty smile; "I shall soon
get a letter, I am sure.'' And I am sure I hope with
all my heart she may, for it were a pity so young a
face should wear a look of sorrow. And were no
letter to arrive, how oppressively sad to have that
deserted house constantly before her as she rowed
daily across the lake !
But I have forgotten the mountains and the au-
tumnal morning, with talking of the pretty maiden of
the ferry ; however, she and her skiff, with its train of
dancing light behind it, belong to the scene, and form
a pleasing and even necessary feature in the landscape.
As if all was to be festive on this exquisite October
morning, here comes a gay procession. What a noise
of deep, hollow-sounding bells is heard coming up the
road that winds along the lake ! There in front a
stately cow advances, her horns adorned with a large
wreath of beautiful flowers, — roses, dahlias, erica, and
evergreens. Above her head towers a pile of fes-
toons and garlands; and within an arch of flowers
and foliage is a bright crown of tinsel, and below it in
the same shining material a large C. It is the cattle
of His Royal Highness Prince Charles of Bavaria re-
turning for the winter from the mountain pasturage.
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
They are splendid animals of the Altgau breed ; short
legged, full uddered, and with dewlaps like the Col-
chian bulls. Many are the bells they wear, — long,
broad bells, of sweetly sonorous metal, fastened round
their strong necks by a thick strap of leather. But
the foremost one has alone the coronal: she is to
walk first, nor would she let one of the others pass her
on any account whatever. She maintains her place in
front as resolutely as I have known une Dame dupalais
insist upon having the pas when other ladies were
present ; and she heads the procession with a sturdy
air, and a look of ineffable contempt for all going on
around. Nor is it mere fancy that she is proud of her
pre-eminence ; she knows as well as you do that she
is to be first; and she deserves her rank, for in
truth she is a splendid creature. And behind comes
the tall herdsman, his hat more than usually gay with
flowers, and with a tuft of fine yellow feathery grass,
that looks not unlike the plumage of the bird of para-
dise. How proudly he walks behind his troop, while
the gardens that border the road are filled with gazers ;
and further on, the Queen and her ladies are waiting
to see the cattle returning home to the valley. He
looks calmly about him, but greets no one : he feels
that to-day he is the principal personage ; he is cele-
brating his trimnph. I would fain wager though,
when he sees the sweet friendly face of the young
Queen yonder, his countenance will relax somewhat,
and that it will soften and suddenly grow bright
like a cloud when a sunbeam falls upon it. Follow-
16 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
ing him is a troop of goats, all unadorned save one
in front; and after them comes the maiden who
tends them, smart in her holiday attire. Bringing
up the rear, like the baggage-train of an army, a
waggon is lumbering on with household necessaries
piled high upon it, and drawn by two sturdy oxen,
whom a little peasant boy, with face as cheerful as the
morn, guides along. The merry scene pleases him;
he does not regret to leave the mountain, for what
child ever yet grieved at change of place ? But gay
and festal as " the return from the Aim " always is, it
is by far not so pleasing an event to the Senner and
Sennerinn as the departure for "the mountain" in
spring. Then, as the forester's young wife told me,
who stood looking at them with her baby laughing on
her arm, then if you meet them, and, wishing them
good day, ask whither they are going, the reply, " Auf
die Aim* !" is quite musical with pleasure, and their
faces are radiant with thoughts of the life awaiting
them on the green mountain slopes. But when meet-
ing them in autumn, on their downward path, you
put the same question, the answer, " Home !" tells at
once by its tone how reluctant they are to leave their
summer dwelling-place.
And indeed it is not to be wondered at. On some
high spot, sheltered perhaps by perpendicular walls of
rock a thousand feet, closed in, in a sort of "happy
valley " up among the mountains, or else may be on
a verdant piece of table-land, free and unbounded
* « To the pastures on the mountain !"
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS. 17
on every side, are built the rough wooden habitations
— mere log-houses — of the Sennerinnen. Far, far
below them the world lies extended. With the sun
they rise, and are on the mountain- tops watching the
brightness as it gradually diffuses itself over earth and
sky. There, with the dawn, while the day is bursting
forth in magnificent array, stands the peasant-girl
all radiant and effulgent on some peak, the sun's
■ rays glowing around her. Above her, in the distance,
the snowy summits are growing rosy with the light ;
while the lesser mountains and the valleys below her
have not yet seen the sun. And soon the w^hole face
^ of the stupendous wall of grey rock is flushing in
gratulation ; all is teeming with sunbeams and bril-
liancy; the haze over the lake and river divides and
evaporates ; and shore and village, upland and hamlet
I He before her eyes clear and distinct in the dewy fresh-
ness of an early summer morning. All is still on the
mountain. She gazes on the coming glory, and is
silent ; she watches the gradual development in mute
deUght ; but when the sun himself has at length come
forth the spell is broken, and as she turns to look
after her herd, proclaims her sense of freedom by a
loud burst of song ; and if ever content, joy, and light-
heartedness were expressed in sounds, they are to be
found in the simple melody of such mountain carol.
II know nothing like it. How loud, how high, some
of the notes ! how rapidly they change ! w^hat glad-
ness is in that jodler, and how boundingly the song
retm-ns from the high shrill tone, descending note by
L
18 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
note to the more sober ones, as though the heart were
gradually recovering from its sudden fit of ecstasy.
But it is only for a moment; and again it is heard
mounting higher, heard louder than before, and faintly
echoed back from the opposite mountain. No, that
was not an echo, — it was a Sennerinn from those dis-
tant huts yonder answering the other.
It may be thought that the rough uncultivated na-
ture of these peasants, placed as they are year after
year amid the same scenes, and following the same
unvarying occupations, will not be much influenced
by the appearances of external nature; and that to
suppose them to be so is rather a poetic fancy than
plain sober fact. But I am not of this opinion : I
believe that, unconsciously, they are impressed by
the sublime scenery around them : they enjoy it dif-
ferently from the man of more refined mind, but
the result is perhaps nearly the same, only different
in degree and quality ; in both the principal feature
being enjoyment, though more sensuous in the one
than in the other. And that they do enjoy it to
the full — to the full according to their capacity — is
evident from their manner, their looks, and their con-
versation. They live surrounded by grandeur, and
glory, and magnificence. Wonders happen around
them ; nor do they pass unheeded, for it is these that
break the monotony of their life. We too are encom-
passed by wonders, but in the strife and turmoil we
have no time to stop and marvel ; while they, separated
for months from the world and its w earing cares, keep
^PROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
their minds fresher and more susceptible to outward
impressions. Knowing nothing of conventions, nor
hardened or pressed down by want, they are, both
mentally and bodily, more healthy and more vigorous.
The purity of the air gives elasticity to the heart as
well as to the limbs, and their simple diet is most
surely not without a happy influence. Meat they
never taste, and their sole drink is milk or water.
Their pleasures are of the simplest kind : song is for
them at once an occupation and a pastime, and when
on the mountains, you are sure to hear some solitary
watcher over his herd beguiling the lonesome hours
with a mouth harmonicon, or filling the air with one
of their happy songs, quite as full of happiness in its
way as the carolling of the lark. Occasionally the
chamois-hunter descends to their dwelling, to cook a
warm meal or to pass the night under shelter of their
roof. From him they get the latest news of what is
going on in the vale ; they give him a hearty welcome,
and the evening is passed merrily, and concluded, may
be, with a dance ; for the Jager is sure to find favour
with the sex, and no young knight-errant was ever
better received by the fair dames of a castle where he
craved hospitality, than the trim and merry young
hunter by the Sennerinn on the mountain.
But to return to the high-road. There was no
boat to be had at the moment to take me across the
lake to the little village of Egern; so, putting my
portmanteau, on the cart of a young peasant who was
just driving by, with rifle in hand up I jumped, and
20 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
in less than a quarter of an hour we were at Rottach,
five minutes' walk from the place of my destination.
A little urchin offered to '' radeln^'' (trundle) my
things to the inn ; so helping the little fellow to put
the luggage on his barrow, off we set together. But
he soon stopped to rest, and when he saw me waiting
for him, he told me "to go on : there was no need
whatever for me to stay, he would be sure and come ;"
and as I saw he wished to have the glory of perform-
ing his piece of work quite alone, I left him to follow
at his leisure.
I am always glad to employ a child when circum-
stances make it possible ; first because I like children's
company and to hear their talk, and also because I
wish that they should know how comely a thing it is
to be employed usefully, and how sweet the earnings
of one's own labour are. I have a habit, when walk-
ing, of scattering crumbs for the birds, who are almost
sure to find them ; and just so, I fancy, a chance in-
centive to industry, or a little reward for some kindly-
meant attention, may not be wholly lost, but, being
remembered long afterwards, may incite to a love of
* The siglit of the green fields and hedgerows is not more pleasant
to him who has been " long in populous cities pent," than is to my
ear the sound of a genuine provincialism, uttered in a broad dialect,
giving earnest as it does of being really beyond the influence
of the town. Once in Somersetshire I remember a peasant point-
ing out to me a place in the distance, and telling me it was near
where yonder "housen" were; giving the word "house" its old
Saxon plural. That one word seemed at once to remove me from
the haunts of over-civilization, and I felt sure I had really got into
the country. It was the same with the ''radeln' of my little peasant-
boy, and I welcomed it accordingly.
I
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
occupation, and encourage to acts of friendliness and
to good behaviour. Most children arc delighted to be
employed, and the consciousness that they are of use
makes them quite elate : it is the germ of a feeling
which, if properly nurtured, ripens into self-respect.
Having made my arrangements at the village inn
overlooking the lake, I went to the forester's house to
present my credentials. Ha ! there are the antlers
over the gable, denoting who is the inmate. Eight —
ten — twelve ! a good stag must he have been that
once bore them. It always gives me pleasiu-e to see
this trophy over the doorway or on the pointed roof,
for it is a sign of freemasonry, and tells me that, in
case of need, there is a comrade near. The letter
presented, and my story told, I heard exactly what I
was prepared for. " Things look very bad just now.
Sir, I fear there is not much to be done. The chamois
have no peace — the peasants are always out in the
mountains, and what they do not shoot they scare
away. However, if I can oblige you, I shall be very
happy to do so. I '11 speak to the under-keeper, and
hear if he has seen any chamois lately."
When he came up, "Well, Meier," inquired the
forester, "what chance is there, think you, of doing
something on the mountains ? All looks very bad, I
fear. Do you think you might get a shot or two ?"
Meier's countenance wore no encouraging look, and
he only repeated what I had already heard, of the
scarcity of the chamois, and of the depredations the
poachers were constantly committing. "All about
22 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
here, «as you know," the forester added, "were cha-
mois and red-deer in abundance, and now it is a
chance if a single head of game is seen in a day's
stalking. However," turning to Meier, " the Peissen-
berg would be the likeliest place — there perhaps might
be a chance."
" It is the only place where there are any now,"
Meier said. " Chamois are there, but the mountain
is large, and there being so few perhaps we might
not see them. And then too a single gun only ! it
is difficult to guess where they will come for one per-
son to get a shot : with two it were easier. However
we can try. I will place you," he said, turning to
me, " where the chamois are most likely to pass, and
then I will go through the wood and drive them out.
But I cannot say for certain you will get a shot."
" Never mind," I answered, " let us try ; if we see
nothing it cannot be helped."
So it was arranged that on the day after the morrow
we should try our luck on the Peissenberg. I was
just going away when the forester said, " There is a
good stag on the Ring Berg; Meier has heard him
for some days past, if you would like to try for him."
A stag in the rutting season ! I pricked my ears
at the announcement. " A ^oo<^ stag ?" I asked.
" Oh yes, a very good one."
" Of how many, think you?"
" Of twelve certainly. Meier saw him yesterday,
about two hundred yards off, but the ground was un-
favourable, and he did not fire."
I
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS. 23
''' Yes," said Meier, " he is a capital stag ; he is one
that would please you, if you could get him. I have
often heard hini of a morning, but yesterday only I
was able to get near enough to see him. He is worth
going after, I assure you."
" But," said the forester, " delay in this case is not
advisable, for at the top of the mountain is the boun-
dary Hne between the royal chase and that which the
peasants now have. At this season the stag will be
always on the move, and as the limits are so near, he
might very likely cross over into that part which is
not ours ; if so, we can do nothing."
" Has he any hinds with him ?" I asked.
" No ; but there must be a few on the mountain."
"Well, that's the grand thing; if that is the case
he will hardly go away. However we'll try for him
tomorrow\ Can you go, Meier?"
"The best way," said the forester, "would be to
start this afternoon, and sleep at a farm-house at the
foot of the mountain. They can perhaps make you up
a bed ; and something to eat and drink you are sure
to get. Then start the next morning early, so as to
be on the mountain when day breaks. By leaving
about half-past three today, you will get to the farm
in good time this evening, and can sit out a little and
listen if you hear the stag. And take the shell with
you," he said, turning to Meier; "perhaps you may
want it, if you hear him near." And so matters were
settled.
At the appointed time I saw Meier from my window
24 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
coming to fetch me, and we presently set off for the
hills. It was a delicious afternoon. We ascended by
a path which had been made for the cattle ; and as it
had been raining lately, and the cows had just been
driven down, the road was none of the best. The
scene below was very lovely, as seen from om- gentle
eminence. Repose, and peace, and calm, were im-
pressed on the landscape. The bright quiet afternoon
was just fitted for the placid lake and the undulating
woodland. There are some spots with which only
certain effects accord, which demand a particular sky
to suit their marked character. Now to me Tegernsee
seems one of these. Sun and gladness belong to it,
nor would grand masses of shade and a strong effect
become it so well. Art would no doubt make even
such appearances harmonize with the scene, for what
cannot Art accomplish? But what I mean is, its
features being of a placid stamp, a stern expression
would be more difficult for us to reconcile with it.
With the human countenance it is the same.
We came at last to a spot surrounded by high woods,
and here we seated ourselves to listen for the stag. The
evening was calm, and all was very still, yet we lis-
tened in vain for the much wished-for voice from the
woods above. After waiting some time we were about
to go, when from a turn in the road before us three
men emerged. Quick as lightning out flew Meier's
telescope, as he said, " They all have guns !" He
looked at them for awhile, and muttering, " The ras-
cals !" put up his glass, but still continued watching
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS. 25
them till they were out of sight behind the rising
ground where we stood. As we rose to go we saw
Khem again among the bushes : they now perceived
LS too ; and, as if to show that they did not care for
Laving been seen, began whistling and making all sorts
of jeering noises till we were out of sight. " They
will be out betimes tomorrow, no doubt," said Meier ;
"they will try for the stag, too, I dare say."
^L We came to the farm. It was a large building on
a pleasant meadow, surrounded by the mountains.
On entering, the cheerful blaze of a fire burst upon
us, at which the supper for the maids and labourers
was being prepared. Now a cow-herd, now a dairy-
maid dropped in, and exchanged a word with my
companion, or stopped and chatted with us both and
asked about our plans for the morrow. A savoury
omelet was soon frying on the kitchen-fire, and this,
with a sHce of bread and a glass or two of beer,
formed an excellent supper. An elderly woman was
our cook, who, it seemed, had to provide for and
superintend the others, and was in fact a sort of
housekeeper. Knowing I had come from Munich,
she asked if I knew Professor von Kobell*, — " he who
* Franz von Kobell is well known as the author of some volumes
of poems in the Bavarian dialects. Being my friend, I might be
deemed partial were I to speak of him as I would wish. It fre-
quently amused me, during my stay in the mountains, to find there
were three names which were like familiar household words in every
part I came to — that of H.E.H. Duke Max in Bavaria, Professor
von Kobell, and Count Max Arco-Hohenburg. Whenever these
were mentioned, and I said I had the honour of being acquainted
with the Duke, and that the two others were my intimate friends, it
26 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
had written the books, and made poems and Schnada-
hiipfln." She was quite pleased to hear that I did ;
and, seeming to think that on this account I must be
better worth speaking to, began chatting with me.
" A merry comrade that," said I. " Merry !" she
exclaimed, " Merry ! 'faith, that he is indeed ; and how
he can touch the cithern, and sing Schnadahiipfln*!
There are not many such as he !" And then turning
to my neighbour, — "And you, Meier, you can't sing?"
" No."
" Nor play the cithern ?"
" No."
" Nor whistle a merry tune ?"
"No."
" A pretty fellow, truly ! a Jager and not sing !
But where 's Max gone? He could do everything,
and he was right merry too, and full of jokes !"
"And who is this Max?" I asked.
"A young forester, very different to Meier there,
who can do nothing !" she answered, laughing. " He
covdd play the cithern, and sing songs, one merrier than
the other, and whistle too — 'twas like a blackbird to
hear him ! And then he danced, and how he would
make us all laugh with his stories ! and he was such a
good-looking young fellow too — much better-looking
seemed to be a passport to their good opinion, and the heartiest grew
still more hearty than before. Especially among the foresters the
latter name had a mighty influence ; and when they heard that we
had often shot a good stag or wild boar together, they looked on
me as being " a good man and a true," and drew nearer and talked
more familiarly.
* See a later Chapter.
APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.
27
than you, Meier — and what teeth he had — white as
I"
ivory I
Though all this was said half laughingly, there was
still some seriousness in the old housekeeper's manner,
and I could not help smiling at the praises bestowed
on this mountain Adonis. Meier took all her jokes
very quietly — more so perhaps than he would have
done had they come from one not quite so elderly.
We still chatted around the fire for a time, and then
went upstairs to rest, where to my surprise I found
two excellent beds in readiness, instead of clean hay,
as I had expected. One look at the night, to see
what promise for the morning, and then to sleep.
2S
CHAPTER III.
AFTER THE GOOD STAG.
The next morning we were up and ready by four o'clock.
The moon and stars were still shining brightly ; the air
was fresh, but not cold. I went to the door of the
house and looked out into the night. Nothing stirred :
there was no sign of a single living creature being
abroad : not even the murmur of a rivulet was to be
heard, descending from the mountains to the plain, —
a sound which among the hills seldom fails to greet
the ear, either near or in the distance. But there
rose around me that low hum, that indescribable
rustle, which is never heard but in the silence of the
night, and which seems to make the stillness palpable.
From the depth of the forests before, behind me, and
on every side, came that low deep murmur tingling on
the ear, as when the myriad buzzings of the invisible
insect world in summer unite in one drowsy hollow
tone at noon. It was not loud, but it was distinct
and very audible, even to an ear not quickly sensitive l
AFTER THE GOOD STAG. 29'
it came from out of the earth, and from the woods, and
from the sides of the mountains, and rising upwards
filled all the air, even up to the very hill-tops lying
in the cold light of the stars. Was this low sound
perchance the breathing of Nature in her trance-like
sleep ?
We took our rifles and set out. Until we came to
the woods it was easy enough to proceed ; but here,
it being steep and slippery, and as we were unable to
see the path and the obstacles it presented, our pro-
gress was rather slow. This however I should say of
myself only ; for my companion was always in advance,
nimbly mounting before me, and waiting till I reached
him. The logs of wood left to rot on the ground are
sadly inconvenient on such occasions : you knock your
shins almost to pieces against them, or treading on
shppery surface of the humid branches, go down the
earthwards with your nose as pioneer. We presently
came to a clearing, where we stopped and seated our-
selves on a felled tree to Hsten for the stag. Twice we
had heard his hoarse rumbling roar from afar, as we
ascended the hill-side, but now again all was hushed,
and we listened and listened in vain. Taking a large
sea-shell out of his rucksack^, Meier put it to his
* JRucksack. A square bag or sack of coarse green canvas, used
as a knapsack by the peasant generally, and by the hunter to carry
his game. A cord runs round the mouth or opening, by which it
can be drawn together. From this part a strap passes over each
shoulder, and is attached to the corners below. The capaciousness
of such a riicksack is something quite marvellous; there is really
no end to what may be stuflfed into it.
30 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
mouth, and began to imitate that pecuhar sound be-
tokening ardour, impatience, and anger, which the stag
makes at this season when seeking the hind. It was
really a pretty sight ; it had even something classical in
it. There the young fellow lay, reclining on the fallen
trunk, his hat off, his throat bare, and the coming
light playing about the upturned shell, as, Triton-like,
he blew into his ocean-horn, and made the air vibrate
with the hoarse bellowing. Below, in a vast chasm,
were floating thin mists, gently rising upwards to meet
and to be dispersed by the sun. On they came like
waves ; and it needed no very brilliant imagination to
behold an ocean before you, and he with the spotted
shell lying on its shore.
But no answer came. Once before we had heard,
just as the shadows were beginning to leave the top
of the opposite mountain, a hollow sound come mur-
muring across the valley before us. It was scarcely
audible; it was a low muttering, as though it pro-
ceeded from out of the mountain itself.
"Did you hear it?" exclaimed Meier. "That's
the stag, but he is a great way ofi*. He will go, I
am afraid, on the other side of the mountain, and
then we may not follow him, for there the royal forests
end."
"How vexatious! he probably has no deer with
him, or he would hardly go away."
And again through his shell sounded the deep
hoarse tones ; but it was all in vain. " He must be far
off, quite out of hearing, or he would come for certain ;
AFTER THE GOOD STAG. 31
he would be sure to answer the challenge. But since
we heard him last, he has gone no doubt over the brow
of the mountain, on the other side where the sound can-
not reach him. It is of no use to wait any longer."
So up we got and went further. We stopped at a
spot that overlooked the whole dell and gave a good
view of the steep mountain-side facing us. "We
may perhaps see a roebuck — it is not at all unlikely
— the underwood there is a good covert for them,"
said Meier ; and jumping on the stump of a felled tree,
which overhung the precipitous declivity, he gazed
carefully around and below. But nothing was to be
seen. The new laws which had been in force since
the Revolution effectually prevented the chance of our
seeing any game whatever: all was destroyed or
driven away. Some goats only with tinkling bells
round their necks were browsing here, and came near
to look at us ; then on a sudden they sprang away,
with a troop of white kids after them.
As the young Jager stood on the block of wood,
leaning on his staff, I could not but think how pic-
turesque a group he and his dog made. The moun-
tain stick was thrust forwards, forming one leg of a
triangle, and his body the other, and on the top of it
both hands were crossed, on which his chin rested.
The ^^yjoppe hung loosely about him, his bare knees
showed beneath the short leathern breeches, the rifle
was slung at his back, and his dog sat at his feet watch-
ing as steadily as he. As he leaned forward, supported
by the firmly-planted pole, he was quite hanging over
32 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the depth below. The whole figure was motionless ;
the eyes only turned from side to side, exploring every
bush and prying into each shadowy nook, or running
over those green patches among the trees where it was
likely a roe might come to graze. I remember to have
seen, when a child, a print in the Bible, of Jacob thus
leaning on his staff; and I quite well remember too
how much the figure pleased me, and how in the atti-
tude there was for me a charm which I could not then
account for*. And in some strange wise or other this
picture was always associated in my mind with a
sentence in 'Murray's Exercises:' "And Jacob wor-
shiped his Creator leaning on the top of his stafi"."
The Bible picture and the well-known words recurred
at once to my mind ; and here I saw before me what
my childish imagination had often dwelt on with in-
definable, inexpUcable dehght. Since those days of
childhood the boy had himself leant upon his staff"
just as Jacob had done ; and thus too had, like him,
worshiped his Creator amid the mighty works of His
hands.
We now went to the top of the hill. Below us
was the lake, in all the freshness and brightness of
early morning, and behind rose the rocky ridge of the
Plan Berg, and behind this again other peaks covered
* Nor am I much better able to do so now. In a figure tlius lean-
ing there is an air of perfect repose, united however with power and
strength; for you see the whole man before you standing at nearly
full height; and though the attitude impresses one with rest, it indi-
cates at the same time a readiness for action, which takes from it all
appearance of slothful ease or of fatigue.
AFTER THE GOOD STAG.
with eternal snow. A look around, and then down-
wards, and home. After having reported ourselves to
the forester, it was arranged that on Monday we should
start at five and try for a chamois. However, on
Monday the weather was unfavourable, and other cir-
cumstances also prevented me from stalking on that
day. So packing a few things in my rucksack, I set
>if across the mountains for Eischbachau.
34
CHAPTER IV.
THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON.
Having alluded to the stag during the rutting season,
it is as well perhaps to add a few words on this subject
for the information of those uninitiated in the mysteries
of woodcraft.
On the Feast of St. Egidius, 1st of September, the
rutting season is said to begin. Thus it is, at least, ac-
cording to the old sayings of those practised in the
noble art of Venerie. The stag leaves the deep re-
cesses of the forest and comes forth to the skirts of the
woods, and is seen even by day in the glades and cop-
pices. The good pasture of the summer months has
made him sleek, and the blood begins to flow through
his full veins with a more impetuous current. Like
the youth who has bloomed into manhood, and who
looks around him with a brighter eye than hereto-
fore, the stag now gazes dauntlessly in all the pride
of vigorous strength, and his bold front seems almost
to challenge to the attack. He who ere this has
THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON.
dwelt like a recluse in the forest solitudes, now comes
forth into the noonday world ; away he bounds, and
before the morning dawns he is in another territory :
he has traversed the valleys and has toiled up the
steep mountain-sides, and, bearing away for the well-
known open glade in the beech-forest, has reached it
before the hinds have brushed the dew from the grass
in retreating to their covert*.
ML And thus, year after year perhaps, will a stag be
seen at a certain spot at this particular season, al-
though he is absent the whole year beside. Not only
is the distance he travels, but the speed also with
which he traverses the ground, astonishing. His pace
is a sort of ambling trot, nor does he skim over the
ground at full speed except when the foe is nigh ; in-
deed at this season a stag could not maintain such
pace long, he being too well-conditioned, and his broad
back and sides too heavy, for the exertion of a stride
like the courser's when careering over the plain ; and
though the poet may, with undisputed license, describe
him as galloping along, he never does so except when
suddenly scared and when hotly pursued. And indeed
in his other pace there is beauty too, and more of
* Since these words were written I have met with a very graceful
allusion to the deer being out at early morning, in the poems of M.
t^bievius, translated by E. C. Coxe.
" Friendly dews ! with faithful guiding
Show where roving, feeding, loving,
Sought the stag at last his hiding.
Cautious through the covert moving !
Show your king the cloven horn.
Gentle dews of early mom!"
d2
36 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
majesty. Though retreating before some danger, there
is no ignoble haste or precipitancy in his flight. With
front erect and steady eye he moves over the ground,
seeming hardly to touch the earth, so lightly does
he step along ; and in his vi^hole mien and bearing he
is " every inch a king."
At the usual time he suddenly appears amid his old
haunts and his former loves. Until now a troop of
hinds only vrere to be seen by the hunter who watched
for them at morning or at evening, with the calves of
this, and the fawns of last year ; but now on the skirts
of the herd he sees — or at first thinks he sees — a pair
of branching antlers towering in the air ; and behold !
the monarch is indeed returned. He has added another
embattlement to his crown since he was last seen ; in
stature too he is changed, and well indeed may he claim,
irrespective of his diadem, to be called " a royal hart.'*
But how difierent now his look from that time when
he disappeared in the wilderness ; like the prodigal,
who, with wasted strength and but a wreck of his
former self, skulks away that he may be seen by none.
How worn and broken down did he leave the scenes
of all his pleasures, and how vigorous and in what gal-
lant trim does he i-eturn ! Should a rival dare to loiter
about the spot, he goes forth to meet him, to do battle
for his rights ; to maintain them or be vanquished in
the encounter. No knight, burning to achieve a deed
of chivalry, ever charged down upon a foe with more
valiant daring than will he, when he &ees approach-
ing the antlers of some new wooer tossing in the air
THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON. 37
and seeming to defy him to combat. Nor does the
challenge remain unanswered: with his brow-antlers
lowered like a lance in the rest, he rushes on the foe,
and lucky is the intruder if he can ward the thrust ;
for should it penetrate his ribs or shoulders he would
—most surely pay for his temerity with his life*.
" When once the stag has joined the hinds he does
not quit them. He walks continually round and round
the herd, keeping them together and preventing even
a single one from leaving him. A stag will some-
times have twelve, jGifteen, twenty, or even more hinds
with him, and proudly but despotically he moves
among them, Hke a sultan in his serail. His blood is
boiling in his full veins; his passion consumes him,
and he flies to the pool, not to assuage his thirst, but
to cool the fire that is burning within him. He rolls
in the shallow water and lays himself in the slimy bed ;
and when he rises reeking from the mire, his back and
sides and throat are covered with it, and the long hair
of his neck is matted together like a thick and tangled
mane. He eats little or nothing now. Ever and anon
he stands still, and by a low, deep, hollow sound,
* It is not more than three weeks since the day on which I write
this (December 5th), that a young stag, one of six only, rushed
upon another, and striking his brow-antlers into his side killed him
on the spot. It was a strange occurrence, on account of its being
late in the season ; had it been a month earlier there would have
been nothing surprising in it. During the rutting season however
the weaker stags are kept away from the herd by the stronger ones ;
and when these go, the younger ones then take their place, and are
in their turn as fierce and as jealous of an intruder as their more
potent rivals were before them.
38 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
that seems to come from his very inmost being, and
tells of consuming pain and longing, will he give vent
to the feelings that goad and torture him. I know
no sound to which I could liken it, though I can imi-
tate it well. It is not a roar, nor a bellowing, but a
rumbling sound, approaching perhaps nearer to a deep
long-drawn-out groan than aught else, which at last
is, as it were, hurled forth two or three times, in a
short, quick, impatient manner. At early morning,
while the stars are still watching, you may hear the
hollow tone from the hill-side, and, if you do not know
what it is, might perchance fancy it came from the
bowels of the earth, and that the mountain was in-
wardly convulsed by elements at strife with each other.
Indeed I imagine that an incipient volcano would make
some such noise.
The throat of the stag swells now to an unusual
size. Week after week goes by, and his appearance at
last gives tokens of his spendthrift waste of strength
and of wild excess. His once sleek sides are sunken
in, his broad back has dwindled into narrowness, and
a sharp ridge is visible along its length. The haunches
that were so full and rounded have hollows in them,
the head is no longer stately and erect, nor in the
creature's whole mien and bearing is there more of
pride and majesty. The voice has grown thick and
husky, and a hoarse sound, void of strength or full-
ness, is uttered at distant intervals. Senility has
taken the place of youth; and of strength, decrepi-
tude. At such time it is comparatively easy to get
THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON. 39
near the stag, for he sees and hears nothing, and, if I
may use the expression, is reduced almost to a state
of imbeciUty. I have myself crept along the ground,
and got from bush to bush until I was near enough
to have brought him down with a pistol-shot.
It is in truth astonishing that the stag should be so
long-lived as he is ; for the whole year through, with
the exception of at most two months, he is either
taxing his nature to the utmost, or striving to recruit
his strength through an inclement and unpropitious
season. The rutting is over ; and now, with lantern
body and but the ghost of his former self, he has the
raw winter months before him. There is no green
pastm*age where he may appease the cravings of his
hunger ; the ground is covered with deep snow ; nor
can he get at the young corn, which, were it not thus
hidden, would furnish a most dainty banquet. He
is obliged to have recourse to the rind of the young
trees, and to nibble the tips of the last shoots and
twigs. Poor nourishment this for a famished worn-
out creature ! yet till the spring-time comes it is all he
has to feed on. And hardly has he recovered himself
a little, when nature demands of him an immense
exertion: his antlers fall off close to his head, and
another pair, even higher and stronger than those
just lost, are to supply their place. And this opera-
tion is not a work of time, proceeding slowly and
with gradual development ; but, by a strong effort, of
rapid, nay almost sudden, growth. In three months
the stag has put forth his branching antlers again ;
40 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and this time too the stems are thicker than before,
and on each is one point more than the preceding
year. When we think of the comparatively slow rate
at which a hothouse plant, with all possible care and
forcing, expands in growth, or a child or other young
animal increases in stature, we can hardly comprehend
the productive power that, in so short a time, should
be able to force into existence an excrescence of such
size and weight, demanding too for its nourishment
the noblest juices — the sap and very marrow of the
body. Yet so it is. Erom the stag's head, " shorn of his
beam," the young shoot springs up, and like a sapling
buds and puts forth a branch, and then another and
another. Upwards still it rises ; and the thick stem
divides on high into more taper branchings, forming
as they cluster together a rude mural crown. At the
extremities all is soft and tender, porous, and with
much blood. Over the whole, to preserve it from injury
until it has grown firm and hard, is a thick velvet
covering; and not until all beneath can bear expo-
sure to the air does this fall off. When first got rid
of, the antlers are as white as ivory, but they soon
acquire their usual darker hue.
It is now summer, and the stag revels in abundance.
He roams through the woods and enjoys the glorious
time in quiet luxury. But as was said before, this is
of short duration : the Feast of St. Egidius is at hand,
and his life of slothful ease is at an end.
41
OHAPTEE V.
A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU.
The young forester Meier was going to see his father,
who lived at the foot of the Peissenberg ; and as my
road over the Kiihzagel Alp passed his house, we set
off together.
" Well, Meier," I asked at parting, " are you sure I
shall find the way ?"
"You can't miss it. To the top of the mountain
'goes a road; a little way up is a bridge; do not
cross it, but keep straight on. Higher up you will
[eome to a place where there are three roads — take the
middle one, it leads downwards, and then you have
the mountain stream beside you all the way.''
" Well, adieu ! and by the time I come back look
out for the chamois."
I Now it is a very easy matter for one who knows
a road by heart, to tell another of paths to the right
and to the left, and that he is not to choose this, but
is to take that ; and as you listen you at last get
42 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
inoculated with a notion of its easiness, and allow
yourself to commit the folly of starting off alone. But
once in the wood the pathway is hardly discernible,
and across the mountain-top there is no trace of foot-
steps to be seen ; so at last you come to a stand, fully
convinced of having done a very foolish thing. Por
years I flattered myself with the belief of possessing
in a superlative degree the organ of locality ; and it
is only after having more than once missed my way
in the forest and on the mountain, and discovered
my reckoning to be almost always wrong, that this
crotchet of mine has been given up, and the acknow-
ledgment forced from me that there is as much chance
of my going astray in this physical world, as in the
one where we are apt to take our passions for guide-
posts. Once, when lagging behind my companions,
I lost my way on the mountains ; and after having
traversed a space which no one would have credited
but for my description of some peculiar features
of a remote spot reached while thus wandering, I
was at length fortunate enough to see afar ofi" an old
human being who, on my forcing him to go with me,
put me on the right track. Had I not found that poor
weather-beaten creature just then, my bones would
now be lying up amongst those heights.
In the mountains all is on so large a scale, the
stranger is constantly deceiving himself as to distance.
A trifling change of position, too, makes everything
look quite different. In descending from an eminence
the forms selected as landmarks are at once lost sight
A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU. 43
^of; on getting nearer to the foot of the mountains
the seemingly narrow valley opens into breadth : hill,
mound, dell, all unperceived till now, start into sight ;
you become confused by a multitude of objects not
calculated on before, and, having already perhaps de-
viated from the straight line to evade a precipice or
to cross a torrent, are wholly at a loss what direction
to take. You look back to reconnoitre the ground
and find your starting-point. But it is not to be found :
all is changed; other forms are seen up against the
sky; no single feature that was there before is now
to be recognized. You turn round and ask yourself
if in coming downwards yonder peak with snow was
not on your right, and you are not sure of the answer,
for there is another very Hke it where snow is also
lying: — how then distinguish between them? And
if you determine to go straight on toward the dis-
tant ridge, on getting there at last after two hours'
desperate chmbing, all again is like an unknown land,
and not a single mountain-top that forms part of the
new horizon have you ever beheld before. Landmark
you have none — the few you had are now irrecoverably
lost. There you stand in vast space, utterly helpless.
Far, far around you rise those sharp lines against the
sky which bounds your present world. How gladly
would you look into the space beyond, and strive to
catch at hope ! But this "beyond" is shut out from
you as impenetrably as that vague unknown which is
beyond the grave. And you still keep your look fixed
on those impassable barriers : a strange irresistible
44 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
power seems to rivet your staring eyes upon them,
and you gaze on with awe, and dread, and longing !
Ay, with awe ! for they stand before you, those huge
forms, in overpowering, unparticipating stillness. All
is motionless. Nothing stirs that forms a part of them.
A shadow may flit across their face, but that is an extra-
neous thing, and when it has swept by, there they are,
still in the same cold, rigid imperturbability. If only
a tree were there, with its softer outline, and its boughs,
though not moving, at least conveying the feeling that
they might move, as being a thing with life ! But no,
the hard lines of those fixed features are unrelieved by
one milder form ; stillness, unwaning stillness, sits on
them everlastingly, like Death ! And yet you gaze on
them with longing ; — the longing that with yoiu* vision
you could penetrate what is beyond. It is a yearning
such as the soul feels to know of that "other side"
which will be seen only after death.
On the finest day too the mists will suddenly arise,
wrapping all in their flowing cloud-like folds. When
thus overtaken in the mountains by dense fog, if it last
you may look upon it as your shroud.
In crossing the barren heights of the Valtelline, I
remember to have met, on the summit, a little altar
raised by friendly hands from the stones which lay
strewn around, in a niche of which shone a human
skuU and a heap of bones. They had belonged to a
contrabandista, who, while smuggling his wares across
this scene of desolation, had been overtaken by the
mists sweeping upward from the valley, and, unable
A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU. 45
to proceed, had sat down and been frozen to death.
m* On such occasions," said my guide, " nothing is to
be done but to He down and die." Long after having
passed the monument I could see, on looking back,
the white bones gleaming in the sun-light, for the ele-
—jnents had bleached them to a snowy whiteness.
P In going to Fischbachau, however, there was no
fear of my becoming the hero of a " lamentable occur-
rence" in the columns of a newspaper, or of having
an eiv voto erected to my memory. I lost my way
however, as might very well have been expected ; but
I regained it after awhile, and came upon the road that
leads from Schher See. The rain had now ceased, and
the sun looked out cheerily and with his very brightest
smile, as if determined to make amends for not having
shown himself earher. Schlier See was before me, a
little island in the middle of its clear waters, and which,
from its glittering brightness, might, for aught I know,
have risen out of the lake just before I came. I looked
at it a long time, for its beauty and freshness reminded
me of England.
The forester's house at Fischbachau had once been a
cloister; and the clergyman of the parish still inhabited
one half the building. The corridor was filled with
rows of antlers, and the sitting-room of the family
was decorated in the same appropriate manner. All
round the top were ranged the bent horns of the
chamois; below these the more majestic antlers of
the stag; and lower down, interspersed also at in-
tervals among the others, were those of the roebuck.
46 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
The windows were filled with ivy and creeping plants,
and these trailed along from antler to antler and hung
down in careless festoons, or they were twined round
the frames hanging on the walls with engraved por-
traits in them, among which I recognized some well-
known faces. At the further end of the room was a
row of rifles and fowling-pieces, with here a strangely-
fashioned powder-flask or cramping-irons for the feet
in winter; on a nail hung the riicksack, the green
hat above it with a gay flower on its brim ; while a
guitar in a corner, and a cithern on a table, gave
evidence of gentler pastime than the chase affords.
But the neatness and the creeping evergreens had
already told of feminine care that presided here. All
was as simple as possible, but the place looked com-
fortable, and everything was deliciously clean. Having
changed my wet clothes, I returned and talked with
the forester. " It is no pleasure now," he said, " to
have to do with the chase. I do not like even to
think about it. The mountains opposite — those you
see from the windows — were full of chamois, the Mie-
sing especially. Erom this room you might often with
a telescope see thirty or forty together ; and now on
the whole mountain there are perhaps not twenty."
" And there were stags, too ?" I asked.
" Stags and roes in abundance. But now all are
shot. The peasants shoot everything. There," said
he, pointing to the antlers between the windows, " is
the last stag that Berger, my assistant forester, shot.
It was a good one, as you see, and I have put up the
A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU. 47
antlers in remembrance, for I dare say he will never
rhoot another — it will be his last."
"It is hardly credible/' I observed, "that in so
short a time almost every head of game should have
been exterminated. It is very sad, for it would take
I a long time to have all again as it once was."
" No, it is not surprising when you think that the
game had never any rest. Day after day it was dis-
turbed, shot at, scared and driven from place to place.
The peasants did not get much, for if they wounded a
stag or chamois they had no good dog to follow it
with, and so it was generally lost. And all game
must have quiet, — that is as indispensable as food.
A great part therefore went across to the Tyrol ; and
the gamekeepers too shot all they could, rather than
let the peasants get it."
And then he told me how he used to go into the
mountains, and would sit for hours and watch the
chamois and the young kids as they disported them-
selves on the green slopes, or stood upon the rocks and
leaped from crag to crag ; but now, he said, he would
go up there no more, for all his pleasure in doing so
I was gone, and his occupation rejoiced him no longer*.
I * In a letter received from the worthy forester since this was
[written, he says : — " Although late in the autumn, after you were
bone many chamois collected here again. I much doubt if we shall
«ee any next summer, for the poor creatures that are now looking
for their winter haunts are so scared and hunted about, that their
utter extermination must be the consequence. No one can possibly
teU. the pain aU this causes me ; and I therefore never express what
I feel to any one but a hunter, and one who loves the chase, and of
whom I am persuaded beforehand that he will understand and sym-
pathize with what I suffer."
48 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
I already knew what excellent hunting-grounds all
this neighbourhood afforded; for though it belonged
to the Crown the whole mountain range had been
rented by one of my friends, who, by carefully pre-
serving the game for a year or two, and by the excellent
order he maintained, had greatly enhanced the value
of the chase. He had his own foresters stationed in
all parts; young active fellows, and moreover excel-
lent chamois-hunters, who understood their duty well,
and did it. Just as all was in high perfection and
the game abundant, those political changes took place
which gave the right of shooting to every individual
of the community. In order somewhat to diminish his
pecuniary losses, my friend Count Arco, to whom the
chase belonged, ordered that the game should be shot
by his own people rather than by the poachers; and
venison became so plentiful that it fetched but three-
pence, twopence, and even a penny a pound*. But
in the plain it was exactly the same. In the exten-
sive forests of the Prince of Tour and Taxis, with whom
* The circumference of the chase was about sixty English miles.
The Count calculated that in a few years he w^ould be able to shoot
there every year three hundred roebucks, eighty (warrantable) stags,
and one hundred chamois. It must however be said, that there is
not a better sportsman to be found than Count Arco, and that such
a state of things could only be brought about in so short a time by
his excellent management. He had twenty-four gamekeepers, all
picked men, fellows as fearless and daring as they were excellent
hunters. In the short time that the chase was in the Count's hands,
they had shot seven poachers in conflicts with them. One of the
keepers, he who had killed four, was himself shot soon afterwards at
Berchtesgaden. The neighbourhood of the Tyrol was the cause of
this influx of poachers. They would come across the frontier at the
Kaiser Klause and Fallep, and were at once on Bavarian territory.
A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU. 4§
I have enjoyed the privilege of shooting for the last
ten years, all the red-deer have been destroyed. From
forty-five to fifty-two or fifty-three good stags were
shot every season, and now there are not half-a-dozen
in the whole forest range. Although the peasantry
may occasionally have had to complain of the super-
abundance of game in the lowlands, there could be
^no excuse for this total destruction of the chamois,
which from its habits could do no possible injury to
the crops of the husbandman. The higher mountains
were their dwelling-place, and the herbs they found
on their green sides, with the young sprouts of the
latschen*, afforded them nourishment. But the in-
toxication caused by the possession of a new right
blinded the peasantry even to their own profit and
advantage; and rather than let a chase for a good
price, as is done with the moors in Scotland, they
harried the game, and, having depopulated the moun-
tains, find at last that what might have proved a con-
stant source of profit and pleasure is now thoroughly
exhausted. But excess characterizes every social revo-
lution. It is, too, the very spirit all proscriptions
that they be carried on unrelentingly, and with a view
* Latschen — Pinus Pumilio — is a sort of pine found on the moun-
tains, growing on their barren sides or ou,t of the crevices of the
rocks. It does not at once grow upwards, but creeps along the
ground for some distance before its branches rise perpendicularly.
Its foliage is dense and bushy, and forms a good covert for the game.
This shrub might be called " The Hunter's Friend," for on its boughs
he may always rely, as they never break with the strongest pull.
He must only be careful not to bend them, for then they snap at
once.
E
50 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
to extermination; and the red-deer and chamois be-
came suddenly a proscribed race; a ban was upon
them, and none escaped but those that fled into the
deepest recesses of the forest, or sought an asylum
among the inaccessible fastnesses of the mountains.
Their names stood first on the dread list of the victims
who were to fall ; and so the people rose with a shout
to take their life indiscriminately wherever they might
find them.
The assistant forester was not at home; nothing
therefore was to be learned about the probability of
getting a shot. He had been out on the mountains
for several days, but was expected home that evening.
While at supper we learnt that he was returned, and
a little later, after having changed his dress, he made
his appearance.
*'Well, Berger, good evening!" said the kind old
head forester, as he entered ; " you have had bad wea-
ther — eh? Now, sit down. What have you seen?"
" On the Wendelstein yesterday I saw a good cha-
mois buck at about two hundred yards distant. I
could only just see the haunch, but still I would have
fired, only I had not set the hair-trigger."
" And you met nobody ?"
" No, all is quiet. It was terribly cold up on the
Wendelstein, and the weather has been as bad as it
could be."
" Well, Berger, do you think there is any likelihood
of getting a shot at a chamois when the weather clears
I
^ISCHBAC]
" Yes ; chamois are there, that 's certain ; and on the
Miesing is the best place/' he said, turning to me.
" We '11 go up the Steinberg, and then stalk up the
steep part near the latschen. I think we are pretty
sure of a shot, — if only all has been quiet, and no
poachers have been there to disturb them."
" Well, if the rain ceases and the weather clears,
we will start tomorrow early. When you are ready,
call me."
At least twenty times that day I had been to the
window, peering, or rather trying to peer, through the
clouds of mist, to see if no blue sky were visible.
Sometimes the heads of the opposite mountains — the
Klein Miesing, the Jager Kamm, and others — would
show themselves just above the gloomy mantle whose
undulating folds floated around them; but then the
spirit of the storm would come sweeping on to recover
his supremacy, bringing up an array of dim clouds
from the chasms that divided the mountains, and soon
all was again enveloped in impenetrable gloom. It had
rained the whole of that day and the preceding night
in sullen perseverance, and there seemed no hope of
change ; when in the afternoon the wind gave sign of
his approach, for fragments of mist like flying banners
came hurrying past, and bearing down on the cohorts
of clouds that had, till now, in sturdy masses defied
the sun, tore great rents through them, and sent them
flying in all directions. How glad we were of his
victory, and how we rejoiced to see the scattered rem-
nants of that vast army of clouds trying in vain to
E 2
52 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
re-assemble ! The strong wind put them utterly to
the rout. We now saw that snow had fallen on the
tops of the mountains. Over the flat land the sun
was again visible, and there was every prospect of
fine weather on the morrow. We looked out again
at night, and the firmament was strewn with stars.
What more could we desire ?
CHAPTER VI.
UP THE MIESUSTG.
The morning was clear and bright, and not a breath
of wind was stirring, — an essential thing for the cha-
mois hunter ; for if the air be not calm, all his skill,
perseverance, and daring will avail him nothing. At
best even it is difficult to calculate on the gusts that
will sometimes come suddenly rushing up a chasm,
or sweeping downwards just as he gets round the
shoulder of a mountain. Thus, when he thinks all is
won, and he rejoices in his panting heart at the suc-
cess which is about to crown his labour, the taint of
his presence will be borne along on the rippling air,
and the herd on whom for the last hour his longing
eye has been so intently fixed looks round affrighted,
conscious of the neighbourhood of an enemy, utters
a shrill whistle, and, mounting over the sharp ridge
of an opposite mountain, is seen for one moment in
bold relief against the sky, and then disappears on
the other side. But we had no cause to fear that
our hopes would be marred by such a circumstance.
54 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
Whilst I breakfasted Berger got ready the rifles ;
for not having calculated on being able to go out here,
I had not brought mine with me. We went past the
little chapel of Birkenstein, whither many a pilgrim
resorts, and on through pleasant meadows shut in
by gentle slopes covered with wood. And now we
emerge into a broad valley, and before us is the
Miesing, and to the left the Wendelstein, with its high
conical summit, whence, according to the song, may be
seen the two tall church towers* "of the great city
where the King dwells." It is a striking feature in
the mountain-chain, for, though not the highest of the
peaks, it seems to be so, rising as it does abruptly and
and alone. A few cottages were clustered together
beside a stream at no great distance from our path,
and cattle were grazing in the several fields, while a
little peasant boy poured forth his orisons, for such
I took his gladsome song to be, in that fair temple
not built by human hands.
As we went along, the neighbouring mountains
suggested many a tale of interest to the hunter.
"There," said Berger, pointing to a wood on our
right half-way down the hill-side, — " there, two years
ago, was a stag of sixteen. Such a stag ! his antlers
were splendid ; and what a size he was !"
"And who shot him?" I asked.
" That I don't know. The foresters saw him often,
and could have shot him many a morning had they
liked; but Count Arco had given strict orders to
* Of the cliui'cli of Our Lady in Municli.
I
UP THE MIESING. 55
forbid them, and at last he was seen no more. He
disappeared suddenly, — most likely the poachers got
him. It was such a hart as will not often be seen."
And some distance further on : — " Up yonder to
the left, quite at the top of the mountain, I one day
shot three chamois."
" How did you manage that ?"
" Why, first I shot two, right and left ; and then,
knowing where the others would cross the mountain,
I ran forward to meet them, and sure enough they
came as I expected, and just as I was re-loading too.
I was ready with one barrel, and shot a third. Had
I thought of my pistol I might have brought down
a fourth, for one stood not twenty paces from me."
" What !" I asked, " do you carry a pistol with
you?"
"Yes, always," he replied, drawing a double-bar-
relled revolver (with four barrels) out of his pocket :
"one must always be prepared for whatever may
happen; and with that, if I only have a place to
lean against, I should not mind one or two."
"But do the poachers attack you if you do not
begin with them ?"
" Their hearts are set on the Jagers' guns : their
own are not good for much, and they know that ours
are, and they would rather get one of them than al-
most anything. And they 'd give us a good thrashing
too, if they could," he added, laughing; "and you
know to be half beaten to death is not so very agree-
able. Besides, if you meet with such fellows in a
56 CHA.MOIS HUNTING.
hut, where everything is so close together, and there is
httle room to move, you cannot do much with a rifle,
it 's too long — in close quarters like that a pistol may
do good service."
"But how did you bring down your three cha-
mois r
" One I put in my riicksack, and the other two,
as there was snow on the ground, I dragged down.
On the Wendelstein' once I shot a chamois, and after-
wards a roebuck. The chamois I put in the sack,
and the buck across it over my shoulders. One can
carry almost anything so, and capitally too."
We now came to the broad path or mountain way
that leads up the Miesing, made to enable the wood-
cutters to bring down the wood in winter, as well as
for the cattle which in the summer months are driven
up to the high pasturages. Beside us, on our left, a
clear stream was falling over the blocks of stone that
had tumbled into its channel, and beyond it rose, a
wall of rock, well-nigh perpendicular, eight hundred
feet or more. This was the Gems Wand, a famous
place in other days ere the new laws had been put in
force, and where, on ledges so narrow that it seemed
a bird only might cling there for some moments, the
chamois were always to be seen, standing at gaze or
stepping carelessly along. But now the rock was
indeed desolate. Over the face of this high wall of
stone were scattered the friendly latschen, with here
and there a pine that had been able to twist its roots
into some gaping crevice. It was as nearly perpendi-
UP THE MIESING.
cular as might be, and, except that the strata of rock
formed projecting ridges, there was hardly a footing
to be obtained. However, if there are latschen one
may cKmb almost anywhere. We stopped occasion-
ally to look across with our glasses and scan its rocky
face, in order to see if perchance a solitary buck were
loitering there alone. But not a thing, animate or
inanimate, was stirring. As I looked up at the preci-
pice I observed to Berger, " To get along there would
be no easy matter — eh ? What think you, could you
manage it?"
" I went along there some time ago, when out with
Mr. * * *. He wounded a chamois, and it climbed
upwards along the wall. It was difficult work, for
there was nothing to hold on by ; and what grass I
found was not firm, and gave way in my grasp.
Once I was rather uncomfortable, for while hanging
to the rock with both arms raised my rifle swung for-
ward over my arm."
" Ay, that is a horrid situation ; let go your hold
Hyou dare not; and how to get the rifle back again
one does not know either. When it swings down and
knocks against the rock, it almost makes one lose all
balance. The rifle is sadly in the way in such diffi-
cult places. Without it "
f "Oh, without it," said Berger, interrupting me,
" one could go any and everywhere. Without it I
could climb through the world. The rifle makes an
immense difference. But, as I was saying, at last I
got up and reached the chamois. The coming down.
58 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
was the worst part. However, I took another way
than in going up. I pulled off my shoes, for you can
then feel your ground better, and take hold of every
little projection vdth your toes."
" But that must have hurt you terribly ?"
" No ; I was then accustomed to go barefoot, and
would formerly much rather have climbed so than
down with thick nailed shoes on. Once before I came
down yonder wall from over the ridge : it was ugly
work, I can tell you. We drove the game that day,
and I had to go over the top and roll down stones to
make the chamois cross to the other side."
We had now wound upwards for about an hour,
when we left the path and turned off to our right
among some latschen and huge blocks of stone. We
had not gone many yards when Berger dropped to the
earth, as though a shot had passed through his heart.
He raised his finger to indicate silence, his eyes were
opened wide with expectation, and his lips drawn apart
as if uttering a " Hush !" though not a breath passed
over them. We cowered behind the stones, and he
whispered, "There are chamois!" We crept on a
little further; the end of my pole shod with iron
touched a stone and made the metal slightly ring.
Berger turned round with a reproving look, and
made me a sign to exchange mine for his, which was
not shod. We advanced and lay behind a bush, and
drew out our glasses. Five chamois were there, graz-
ing on the slope, skirted by a wood. Berger's whole
frame was alive with expectation ; his face wore quite
UP THE MIESING. 59
a different expression to what it had before ; his eyes
seemed larger, his body more supple, his powers of
[motion other than in everyday Hfe — the whole crea-
ture was changed. " Now then," he said, " come
along, quick und schon stadT (quickly and nicely
quiet). We moved on, but a breath of air stirred,
and they must have got wind of us, for they began
to move towards the wood, and soon disappeared
within it. There was now nothing to be done but to
go round and get above them, for it was late, and the
current of air had alreafly set in from below. Just
as we had reached the top I heard a shght rustle,
and stopped to listen ; when in an instant there was
a rushing down the steep and over the broken ground
as of an animal in full flight. By the step I was
sure it was deer (hinds), and said so to Berger. " They
were not chamois — they made too much noise; nor
was it the rush of a stag. It must have been a hind."
" You are right," he cried ; " there they go ! I see
them dovm below — ^two hinds — they heard us moving
along above them."
"Do you think they will take the chamois along
with them?"
"No, I think not. We shall most likely meet
them further on; if not, we will sit and watch for
them."
This is one of the great difficulties of stalking in
the mountains, — to do so almost unheard. Fragments
of stone are lying about, latschen with their long
trailing branches and dense foliage, or steep beds of
60 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
GeroU*, cross your path, which the Hghtest step will
set in motion, and yet you must advance quickly,
and pick your way quite noiselessly. I always found
the exertion and attention this required fatigued me
more than climbing for a longer time when such cau-
tion was unnecessary.
As nothing more was to be seen of the five chamois
we had met with on the Steinberg, we sat down and
peered into the vast hollow that lay before us. Rising
upwards to our left was barren rock, sharp and
broken, grey, bare, and weather-beaten : it looked
hoary with age.
Where the rocks ceased to be perpendicular the
geroll began, and continued far downwards, till here
and there latschen began to show themselves. We
sat in silence, examining with strained eyes every
inch of ground, and looking down among the stunted
bushes, and upwards among the crags, in hopes
of seeing a chamois that might be lured forth by
the cheering sun. From time to time, as one of us
fancied that some spot at a distance looked like the
object of his search, suddenly out flew the glass, and
the other, full of hope and expectation, with eyes
turned from the mountain-side to his comrade's face,
would watch his countenance as he looked through
the telescope, to learn, before he spoke, if a chamois
* Geroll. Loose rolling stones on the side of a mountain, like the
lava on the sides of a volcano. At every step the whole mass gives
way beneath your tread, and sHdes downwards, carrying you with it.
The difficulty therefore of crossing such Geroll without noise may be
conceived.
UP THE MIESING. 61
were there or not. He needed not to say, " 'T is no-
thing !" the other saw this at once, by his expression.
But when the glass remained up to the eye some
seconds longer than usual, and the Jager, as he still
looked, said, "'Tis chamois! there are three to-
gether!" how exciting was the expectation. The
glass of each would then instantly be turned in the
same direction, to find the spot on which the hopes
of both were now centred. " I have them ! One is
at rest ; the one to the right is a yearhng, I think.
Now it 's among the latschen ; now — now he has come
forward again. What high horns that other one has !"
Such are the remarks to be heard on these occa-
sions, made in a subdued voice, uttered quickly, and
broken into short sentences — mere ejaculations called
forth by the stir of the emotion, by the feelings of the
moment, and leaving no time for them to be fashioned
into a connected form. But neither of us heard from
the other such pleasant tidings ; and after having
eaten a slice of brown bread and a morsel of goat's-
milk cheese, we slung our* rifles over our shoulders,
and each taking his staff went down the mountain.
We looked around on all sides, but not a chamois
was to be seen. Before us rose the Roth Wand, now
(October 10th) covered with snow ; on a verdant patch
of pasture-land where we stood was a solitary hut,
long deserted ; and on the mountain-side, to our right,
it seemed as if some fiend had dug his nails into the
ground, and torn away from top to bottom all the
earth that he could clutch. Right through the green
62 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
latschen came a long broad strip of loose stones, some
hundred feet in width.
On going along at the foot of this geroU, Berger
suddenly stopped ; and dropping behind a large block
of stone, whispered, " There's a chamois !" High up
among the debris a black spot was visible, and this
was the chamois. We saw by our glasses that it was
a yearling buck, and for a time watched him at our
ease, as we lay on the ground protected by the frag-
ment of fallen rock. It stood at gaze for a moment.
"Does it see us?" I asked; "does it look this
way r
" No," said Berger ; " but the thing is, how to get
near it. Up the stones we can't go — it will make
too much noise; and if we cross over the crest of
the mountain, and so work down towards him, it will
be too far to fire. If we could only get up through
the latschen I but I fear it is impossible, he would
be sure to see us. However, let us try : be still, very
stm."
We were just on the point of making the attempt,
when, on looking round to scan the sides of the Uoth
Wand, I saw a chamois about five hundred feet below
the summit, on a green spot quite free from snow,
and at the foot of a wall of rock. "Hist, Berger!
there are chamois!"
"Where?"
" Look up yonder ; don t you see them ?"
" No."
" Look, don't you see a black spot, right across
UP THE MIESING. 63
to the right of the geroll and the snow. Now it moves !
There is another ! — one, two, three !"
Mk "I see them now! Confound it, they see us! Let us
^nove on — don't stop or look ; keep away from them,
up to the right." And up we went, keeping in a
contrary direction, and then stopped among some large
loose stones.
" Look, Berger ! now you can see them well ; they
are crossing the snow, but not quickly. What ! don't
you see them ? Why now they are moving round the
wall of rock that goes down quite perpendicularly;
yet now I see but two, — ^where can the third be?"
" Now I see them. Give me your glass : make haste
and reach those latschen yonder; when once among
them, all's right. I'll He here and watch them, and
come after you directly. But for heaven's sake get
up the geroll quietly, for if a stone move they'll surely
hear it, though so far off; and be quick, and get among
the latschen." Giving him my telescope, which was
much the better one, I moved on over the slanting
mass of loose stones.
With body bent as low as possible I tried to creep
noiselessly upwards. I dared not use my pole to
steady myself, for the weight would have forced it
among the loose rubble, and made as much or more
noise than my footsteps occasioned. Taking it in
my left hand, on which side also my rifle was slung,
I steadied myseK with the right, and so at last reached
some larger fragments of stone, which were firmer to
the tread, and over which I could consequently get
64 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
along more rapidly. The sheltering latschen were
at length gained, and I flung myself down behind
them, quite out of breath with excitement and from
moving thus doubled up together.
In this safe haven Berger soon joined me. " They
are at rest," he said. " Now all 's right ! we have them
now ! But how shall we get across ?" he asked, as he
looked around to reconnoitre our position. " Yonder
they'll see us ; we must pass over the ridge above, and
go round and see if there is a way."
This we did, and, once on the other side, kept just
sufficiently low down to prevent oiu* heads being seen
above the sky-line. But after advancing some hundred
yards, we came to a spot where the ridge swept sud-
denly downwards, forming a gap between us and the
chamois. To proceed without being seen was impos-
sible. On our right it was rather steep, but we were
obliged to descend a good way, and then the same
distance up again further on, in order to reach the
Roth Wand unobserved.
" Here we are at last ! Are they still at rest, Ber-
ger? just look across through the branches of yonder
latschen above you."
" Yes, they are still there ! Now then, we must
get to the pinnacle right over our heads, and then
along the ridge, and so have a shot at them from
above."
The shoulder of the mountain where we stood was
steep enough certainly, but it still presented sufficient
inequalities to enable us to clamber up it. Elsewhere,
UP THE MIESING. 65
except on this projecting buttress-like shoulder, the
piieclivity was so steep as to be not many degrees from
the perpendicular. I proposed therefore that we should
choose this less steep ridge to reach the broken
rocks above us, on whose jagged forms we might ob-
tain a firm hold, and so creep upwards to the very
crest of the mountain. ''Oh no," answered Berger ;
fe' we dare not venture that : they would be sure to
see us, for we should be quite unsheltered, and our
bodies being thrown against the sky would be dis-
tinctly visible. No, we must try yonder — up that
lahne^J' pointing to the steep declivity before us, to
see the summit of w^hich it was necessary to fling
the head quite backwards. I confess it was not with
the pleasantest feelings that I saw what we had un-
dertaken ; for the slope was covered with snow, making
the ascent doubly difficult, and upwards of two
thousand feet below was a huge rocky chasm, into
which I could look and calculate where I might at
last stop, if my foot slipped and I happened to go
sliding down. Where the lahne ended beds of loose
stones began ; and, as if to remind one of their in-
»stability, and how hopeless it would be to think of
* Lahnen are smooth steep declivities covered with long grass.
In the summer, when this rank h6rbage has been dried by the sun
and air, it is so slippery that a firm footing is almost impossible ; and
in winter such an ascent is not made more practicable by its covering
of snow. When sUpping on such a lahne you shoot downwards as
on one of those artificial mountains or sHdes which form a favourite
amusement in Russia. They not unfrequently rise above a preci-
pice ; a false step here, therefore, and a miracle only can save you
from going over into the abyss.
F
66 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
holding fast even for a moment on their moving sur-
face, there rose from minute to minute a low dull sound,
made by some rolling stone, Avhich, set in motion by
its own weight, went pattering downwards into the
melancholy hollow.
However, to stand looking upwards at the steep
snowy surface of the mountain, or gazing at the depth
below, was not the way to get a shot at the chamois ;
so giving my rifle a jerk to send it well up behind my
back, and leave the left arm free, I began to mount,
keeping in an oblique direction in order to lessen the
steepness of the ascent. Berger was before me, some-
times on his hands and knees, sometimes on his feet,
and looking every now and then anxiously behind to
see what progress I made. Neither of us got on very
fast, for a firm footing was impossible. If you slipped,
down you came on your face, with both feet nowhere,
and the rifle swinging over the left arm into the snow,
most inconveniently. Once, when I was quite unable
to plant either foot firmly, Berger, who was just above
me, and had, as it seemed, a safe spot on which to
stand, was obliged to let down his long pole that I
might hold on by it, and, with his heels well dug into
the ground, gave me a helping pull. We had mounted
half-way when suddenly both my feet lost their hold
on the snow, and somehow or other down I went
over the steep declivity on my back, like an arrow
sent from a strongly-drawn bow. It was disagreeable,
for I knew how difficult it is to stop when once
gliding at full speed down a lahne ; and all my en-
UP THE MIESING. 67
deavours to do so, with help of my heels or my hands,
were ineffectual. But I remembered the advice my
friend Kobell had once given me : '' Should you ever
be unlucky enough to slip when upon a lahne, tiu"n
round so as to get on your stomach as quickly as
possible, or else you are lost." While shooting down-
wards therefore I turned, and grasping my stick,
which was well shod with an iron point, I dashed it
with all my force into the ground. It stuck fast ; I
held on by it, and was stopped in my career. While
gliding down, my eyes were turned upwards to Berger.
I saw fright expressed on his countenance : our eyes
met, but neither uttered a word. Only when I had ar-
rested my farther progress, and was cautiously pre-
paring to find a sure footing, he called out, " It was
lucky you were able to stop — for heaven's sake be
careful, it is dreadfully slippery." At last, by making a
zigzag line, we reached the top of the lahne. Here
were rocks by which we could hold, and getting amongst
them came to a perpendicular wall about seven feet
high. Its face was as straight as a plummet-line, but
it was rough, so that some crevices were to be found
which might serve as steps in passing over it. At
its base was a small ledge, on which one person
could stand, holding on with his own face and the
face of the rock close against each other, and behind,
below, was — what was not quite pleasant to think
about. Berger got over first, having previously with
one hand laid his rifle and pole on a ledge of rock
above him to have both hands free. Handing up my
L
68
CHAMOIS HUNTING.
rifle to him, I followed ; and though the place seemed
rather formidable, in reality it was easy enough to
climb. As I stood on the ledge face to face with the
perpendicular rock, I debated within myself whether I
should look behind me or not. I knew that below and
behind was nothing but air, and I decided on pro-
ceeding without turning round; so I looked for the
most favourable crack or roughness in the rock to
make a first step, which moment of delay Berger at-
tributed to indecision and to fear ; and stretching out
his hand to me, he cried roughly, " Come, what are you
thinking of? give me your hand, — that 's right. Now
then !" He was wrong in his supposition, for I was
neither undecided nor afraid, but he feared that if I
grew alarmed I might let go my hold; and as the
moment was critical he thought to rouse and reassure
me by his manner, and by holding my hand firmly in
his grasp. " Patience, Berger ! patience ! I shall be
up in a second ; I am only looking for a place to put
my foot on; don't think I am giddy. There, now
I am up." And then one of us, lying down at full
length, reached with one arm over the ledge of rock,
to the spot below where the rifles and poles were
lying-
With bended bodies we now stole along the crest
of the mountain as noiselessly as possible, for the cha-
mois were below us on our left, just over the ridge.
We presently looked over. I could not see them, on
account of a projecting rock, but Berger whispered,
"There they are! Quick! they are moving." Still
. X
y] oTTip v. TK . B or s c>i elt .
&e<fcaiLJ-B .Kubis litkiru;Ult,Muncluii. .
IU.h.v.?. Hohe,
^s we W(
UP THE MIESING. 69
i
we were, they must have heard us coming upon
them, and, suspectmg danger, were ah-eady in motion.
But they had not yet whistled. By " craning " over,
as a fox-hunter would say, I just obtained a glimpse
of one far below me on a small green spot, and stand-
ing at gaze. To fire in this position however was
impossible. Berger, all impatience and fearing they
would escape, was in a fever of anxiety. "Look
here ! can you see them now ?" as Avith the left foot
planted on a crag not larger than the palm of my hand,
I stood as it were in the air, immediately above the
spot where the chamois were. A crack from my rifle
was the answer. To aim nearly straight downwards
is always more difficult than in any other direction,
and standing as I did made it much more so; but
still I thought I had hit him.
"He remains behind," cried Berger; "you have
hit him ! Well done ! Taith, that was a good shot —
a hundred and thirty yards at least. Quick, quick !
we may get a shot at the others as they go over yonder
rocks ;" and darting up the ridge before him, he ran
on along the edge of the precipice as if it had been
on a broad highway. At another time, without a rifle
in my hand, I should have followed him with caution ;
but the excitement of the hunter was upon me, im-
pelling me to undertake anything, and I sprang after
him, and on along the edge, driven forwards by a
longing and a thirst and craving which made every-
thing seem possible.
There they are ! they 're crossing that patch of
70 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
snow. Now they 're stopping again — but too far off;
let us go back and look after the wounded one."
The wounded chamois was standing some distance
further down than when I had fired. It was evi-
dent by his look that he was very ill — sehr krank, to
translate literally the German expression made use of
in like circumstances. Stretched out at full length
upon the rocks, we looked over the edge, and ex-
amined him with our glasses. We saw distinctly
where the ball had struck him, — rather high up be-
hind the shoulder. He presently moved off, crossed
the snow, and getting among the latschen, after turn-
ing round four or five times, lay down. " All 's
right now; we must let him rest for an hour. Let
me see ; it is half-past two exactly. We '11 try then
and get nearer to him. But where can we get down ?"
said Berger; "here it is impossible."
" A little further on, I think, we may manage it ;
some latschen are there, and they will help us. But
let us stop a little ; there is no hurry, and if we wait
some time it will be all the better."
I now looked around me. The scene was magni-
ficent. The spot on which I stood was near six thou-
sand feet high ; and to the south the view was bounded
by ranges of mountains covered with snow, whose
peaks rose up one behind the other in every variety
of abruptness. Over the vast fields of snow fell here
and there a broad shadow, and the brilliant whiteness
of the peaks facing us formed a strong contrast with
the darker sides that looked towards the east. With
UP THE MIESING. 71
my glass every snow-drift was distinctly visible, and
terrific places amongst those awful solitudes where no
living creature had ever moved. Stretching far out to
our left they formed an amphitheatre before us ; and
behind, all distant view being shut out by the Miesing,
was the valley between the mountains, where, just vi-
sible among the rocks, the deep blue of the Soen Lake
showed how clear the air was, and how bright the sky.
Opposite this lake the sides of the Miesing were covered
with the dark green of the latschen; but nearer to
where we stood all was desolation : — against the sky
the barren and blasted rock, and thence to its foot
a bed of loose rolling stones, cold and monotonous
in hue. But it was towards the distant mountains
that I turned and gazed, and yet never could see
enough. And then again I looked at them through
my glass, and peered into their dark places, and at
their bold projections, and at their very highest pin-
nacles, as though I might at last be enabled to unravel
the mystery — to discover something that might clear
the doubts, and so remove the strange awe that hung
over and around them. And still I looked, and
watched, and pondered, and the spell that bound my
gaze grew stronger, and I could not turn away. For
me mountains have a fascination ; and in their pre-
sence I sit down, and with fixed look scan their un-
explored summits, not in wonder, but with an over-
whelming sense of awe at the frozen stillness of their
deserts, so far beyond the sphere of all human sym-
pathy, — where all hfe has ceased, and where nothing
72 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
ever moves, save the storm and the avalanche. It
is not a region of death, for death speaks to us of
change ; but it is one of numbness and rigidity, — of
Kfe that, once warm, has become still and stark. It
produces an effect as different from ordinary death as
the sight of the motionless soldier on the plains of
Russia, still standing upright and looking as though
yet alive, differs from that feeling awakened by death
in any other form. He with the scythe and the
hour-glass kills^ — ^he destroys life and turns it into
death ; but that power which sits on the frozen moun-
tain-tops seizes on warm life and enlocks it in a glaze
which chills vitality, while the semblance of life re-
mains. It is not of death these icy solitudes remind
you, but of benumbed life.
Berger came and roused me from my musing. He
took my telescope, and looked at the plains of snow
on the distant mountains. He too felt aU the magni-
ficence of the scene, and gazed around him with de-
light. Then awoke in him the longing to climb some
vast mountain, where difficulties were to be overcome
such as men who had once encountered them like not
to think of, and who, while they relate, feel a shud-
dering and a fear. " I never was on such a one," he
said, " but I should like to venture. If only once I
could see such places !" And I told him of the Ortler
Spitz, deemed inaccessible until a few years ago, when
an old chamois-hunter found a way to its icy summit ;
and how a short time afterwards he went up again with
his son, that he too might find the path when the father
UP THE MIESING. 73
was gone, and that thus the knowledge might not die
with the old hunter; and how^ the son, a youth of
eighteen, had said, there, were places to be passed that
made his flesh creep as he hung over them ; and how
he vowed at the time, as he stood amid the frightful
chasms and walls of ice, while his heart almost ceased
fto beat for very horror, that if God should let him
reach the green valleys ahve, no power on earth should
ever make him attempt the dreadful way again. And
as I related Berger stood before me with lips apart, and
his very eyes were listening, as he heard of those un-
visited regions which had for him such a mighty charm,
and inspired so inscrutable a longing.
But it was time to look after our chamois. We
went forward to the place I had indicated as being
the one where we might best descend from the summit
of the mountain. The spot was steep enough, but
there were latschen growing about, and wherever they
are found anything may be undertaken.
" Let us mark the place well where he is lying/'
said Berger, " otherwise we shall not find him when
once down below : as we have no dog we must be care-
ful what we are about. Let me see ! he is just below
yonder high piece of rock with the tall latschen."
"Look, Berger," I said; "from the top of the
Roth Wand a Hue of rough-pointed rocks stretch
downwards to the valley."
" Well, I see them."
" They form two ridges beside each other. Now,
over the second ridge the chamois is at rest. If
74 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
we mark those high ridges well, we cannot be at
fault."
And observing attentively the form of the rock
where we now stood, in order that it might afterwards
serve as a landmark, we prepared to descend. Berger
went first over the bed of geroll. He stopped a mo-
ment, and said, " Now give me your rifle ; you '11 get
on then much more easily." He slung it over his
shoulder with his own, when suddenly his foot slipped,
and down he went, sliding on his back over the loose
stones ; and, though he turned himself round imme-
diately, was quite unable to arrest his progress. At
the foot of the bed of stones there was fortunately no
precipice, or over it he would most certainly have gone.
"Are you hurt, Berger?" Tasked, when at last he
stopped.
•" No," he answered, laughing. " But what a noise
it made ! how the stones came rattling down ! Now
then, carefully ! Stop ! Best one foot against my pole;
it is planted firmly, and will bear your weight ! "
" Quick, Berger ! quick ! take care ;" and at the
same moment down came a great stone that had been
loosened, and dashed by close to his shin. But he
moved his foot, and it passed vdthout striking him.
We had proceeded some distance, and the question
now was, "Where is the chamois?" The rocky ridge
was close to our right hand, but every feature looked
different when seen from below to what it had done
before.
" He must be on the other side, just over that rock."
UP THE MIESING. 75
" No, he is certainly lower down," I answered.
" Look ! we are still comparatively near the summit
of the mountain ; and if you remember, from thence
it seemed some distance to where he was at rest ; from
yonder ridge however we should certainly catch sight
of him." Having clambered thither, Berger suddenly
exclaimed, " Hist ! there he is ! It is far, but still
within range : take your time !" The report of my
rifle thundered among the rocks, and again and again
it reverberated, till at last, like thunder heard afar still
faintly rolling, it gradually died away.
" You have missed him ! "
" That I don't think. I had him capitally, and the
rifle went off just as I could wish ; I was as steady
too as possible."
" It may be ; but you see, he is moving away," said
Berger gloomily.
"I see he is going ; but he moves quite differently
now. Look, he staggers ; his step is uncertain, is it
not ?"
" He is off nevertheless."
" Well, I 'H go to the spot where he was standing,
and then we shall soon see whether I have missed or
not."
There we found hair strewn about, and a pool of
fresh blood. At the sight of it Berger's face cleared
up, and with light hearts we followed the slot of the
womided animal. The snow was dyed red where he
had passed, and the herbage was wet and crimsoned
on both sides of his path.
76 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
"He cannot be far off, Berger/' I said; " look at
the blood. That 's the right colour — deep red ! Here
he stopped for a moment ; but how strange that with
two such shots he should still climb that rock !"
Mounting over a block of stone, Berger looked down
among the rocks, and presently cried out, " There he
lies !" I soon joined him, and looked at the spot
where he had made his last effort and had given his
dying leap. We slid down and stood before our cha-
mois. My first ball had gone right through the body
in an oblique direction downwards ; the second too
was well lodged. We laid our rifles aside, and Berger,
taking out his hunting-knife, prepared to gralloclt the
chamois. It Avas a doe, that had no kid. I looked
around while Berger was busied with his work, to see
the wild spot whither the chamois had led us. It was
a narrow chasm among the rocks; behind us the
high, grey, weather-beaten waUs rising perpendicularly,
and below a slope of barren stones of all forms and
sizes flung together indiscriminately.
The chamois cleaned, I opened my rucksack, and
laying it on the ground, put our chamois into it —
all four feet together, and the head hanging out of
the opening in the middle. Berger lifted it on my
shoulders, and then, staff in hand, we went down over
that wild sea of stones. Though such a. chamois as
I had shot that day might not weigh more than 40 ft.,
it is still an impediment to one's free movements
where the road to be traversed is uneven or diflicult :
such a dead weight settles down and hangs against
UP THE MIESING. 77
your back more heavily than would be imagined. But
when once the road was gained that led to the valley,
we tripped along mth footsteps as light even as our
hearts were, and beguiled the downward path with
recounting the thousand episodes of our epic of that
day. It began to be dark as we reached the meadows
in the vale ; but that mattered Httle, for we had in-
tended not to retm-n to Fischbachau the same even-
ing, but to stop at the village of Baierisch Zell, at
the foot of the mountains, and ask a night's shelter
and hospitahty of the Solachers — a family Avell known
to all who in those parts had ever watched for the
stag in the forest, or climbed up the mountain-sides
after the chamois.
A light was shining from out the cottage window ;
we crossed the trout-stream that flowed before the
garden, and, passing the little wicket, were at once at
the door of the old hunter's dwelling. We laid the
chamois upon the stones, and lifting the latch went in,
and were met with hearty and friendly welcomings.
78
CHAPTER VII.
APTEE THE CHASE. THE SOLACHERS.
To every one who has followed the chamois or the
red-deer in the Highlands of Bavaria, the name of
Solacher is a familiar word. And though he may
not have carried a rifle in those parts, yet if he be a
lover of the chase, that name will still have reached
his ears, and be known to him in connection with
many a story of adventurous climbing, of desperate
encounter with poachers, and of trophies borne off
from the shooting-matches at Munich or the village
festivals. If, when sitting round the table of the little
inn of an evening, you hear some old fellow telling
when the last bear was seen in the mountains, and
whence he came, and how great the excitement when
the news ran of his arrival, you may be sure it was a
Solacher who was first in the pursuit, and that, whether
they killed the monster or not, to one of that name
the honour of the day was due.
Each and all of them have been "hunters of the
THE SOLACHERS. 79
hills/' shunning the plain, and any other occupation
save that hard one which they have always followed —
father, son, grandchildren, and uncles. The name of
Solacher to the hunter of the chamois in Bavaria is
like that of Napier with us in England, — it carries
with it reputation : we at once expect to hear of pre-
eminence in him who bears it; and we look as certainly
for boldness of deed in a Solacher as we do for bold-
ness of thought, of action, or of word, from one who
is a Napier. A Solacher is an authority in all matters
of the chase in the mountains. They all have been
hunters from their youth upwards ; from their first
childhood they have heard exciting stories of the chase,
and have been fed with traditions of the times before
them. To follow the chamois is, with them, rather an
instinct than a passion ; the air of the mountain-tops
seems their proper element, and they have preferred
that, and freedom of breathing and of limb, to all be-
side where these were not to be obtained.
Max, with whom I became acquainted later, told
me how once a nobleman had proposed to take him
into his service, and made him very advantageous
offers. And on my asking if he had not been inchned
to accept them, he laughed at the thought, and said,
" What ! quit the mountains ! why I don't think I
should be able to endure it for a day. Had he of-
fered me ten times as much I should have refused.
For my part, I can't imagine a happier life than that
of a forester; I know very well that / would not
change with anybody in the world !" And thus they
80 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
are all ; the very maidens look upon a hunter's life as
the most enviable lot that could fall to the share of
man ; and the daring climber, the skilful stalker, and
the sure shot, are sure of due appreciation at their
hands. All such do they hold in high honour. They
speak of their brothers mth genuine sisterly pride,
and right pleasant it is to hear them.
At the same moment with ourselves these daughters
entered the room of the cottage. They had, it seems,
been to a neighbouring village wake, and had only just
returned. It was dark when we came in, but now a
light was brought ; and as I turned suddenly to look
at her whose voice and friendly manner had already
prepossessed me, I was struck by the beauty that was
close beside me, and bursting at once upon me through
the dispersing gloom. It took me by surprise, and
she must have been other than a woman not to have
rightly interpreted my long astonished gaze. There
was not even a shade of coquetry about her ; if there
had been, she would have kept on her becoming green
hat a minute or two longer ; but she smiled on seeing
the mischief she had done, and with friendly words
inquired where we had been.
She was of commanding height, this fine-featured
second sister, and the long dark-coloured cloth cloak
made her look still taller. It was simply drawn to-
gether at the throat; and, falling in natural folds
closely over her shoulders, gave dignity to the figure
without preventing you from discovering the outline
of the womanly form. On her head she wore the
THE SOLACHERS. 81
picturesque high-crowned green hat peculiar to these
valleys, over the brim hung the tassel of green and
■gold, and at the side were a bright red rose and
other artificial flowers. Her braided brown hair
showed itself beneath the broad brim of the hat ; and
as I afterwards looked at her finely-marked features,
and at the beautiful outline running from the tip of
the ear to the chin — which by the way is more seldom
seen in perfection than any other part of the face —
I could not help thinking that such a bonnie green
hat was, after all, the most becoming head-gear a girl
could wear.
But beside the full-blown flower was another, a
full bud just about to unfold and burst into opening
loveliness. It was the yoimgest sister — Marie. She
hardly ventured to raise her large dark eyes to the
stranger, and quickly left the room to lay aside her hat
and cloak. She returned however soon after; and
never did I so earnestly endeavour to inspire confi-
dence as now, when doing ray best to win trust in my
good faith from this sweet-mannered village maiden.
It was difficult at first to entice her into conversation;
but later, when she saw that the rough-looking crea-
ture before her was gentle in his demeanour, and
treated her with comely deference, she would gradually
lift her eyes as she smiled a reply; and eventually,
though timidly at first, would let them rest fuU and
fearlessly on the stranger's countenance. Yet later,
when our supper came, and I begged them all to
_^sit at table and sup with us, I could not prevail on
82 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
this coy girl to eat with me, or drink out of my cup.
It was not fitting that she should do so, she an-
swered ; yet when my companion made her the same
offer, she at once accepted it, and laughed and chatted
with him right merrily. If I could only have made
her believe that I too was an assistant forester; or,
by my faith, have really become one for that modest
lassie's sake !
The eldest of the sisters was no beauty, but there
was an open honesty about her — ^indeed this they all
had — and she possessed a store of such genuine,
healthy, sound common sense, that I always liked to
talk with her. She was a famous knitter ; and many
of the peculiar sort of stockings, richly ornamented,
worn by the young foresters both far and near, have
been produced by her skilful fingers.
The three sisters lived here together with an old
aunt — a Solacher, in whose withered features lines were
stiU to be seen which proved that, in bygone days, she
might have been counted among the fairest of the dale.
She was tall, and still walked erect ; she spoke little,
and all her household duties were done in stern silence.
The elder brother, the chief of the family, was not at
home : he had gone to Munich to be present at the
great annual shooting-match, and was expected back
on the morrow. In former days, when game was
abundant on the hiUs, the gentlemen who came here
to shoot would take up their quarters in the dwelling
of this respectable family. Prince L * * * was con-
stantly here, and the Princess too would accompany
THE SOLACHERS 83
him. The Countess D * * * and her daughters would
also remain here for weeks together ; they enjoyed the
beautiful scenery around, and loved the simplicity and
kindly-proffered service of their peasant hostesses.
Nor do I wonder they so liked them, for gentle-man-
nered they are all.
The cottage is their own, and the pasturage around
it, as well as the trout-stream that runs beside the
garden. The building is low, having only one story
and the ground-floor; but it is roomy, and, like all
houses built of wood, extremely warm. It had been
bought and given to them by a few of the gentlemen
who used to stay there, in proof of their regard for
the worthy old forester, and as a means of rendering
a lasting service to his family. They spoke of the
circumstance with evident satisfaction, and perfect
freedom from all false shame; on the contrary, they
rightly looked on the gift as an honourable token how
much their father had been respected. The beams
and wainscot of the room where we sat were dark
with age; the usual bench ran round the sides, as
well as round the stove, which occupied a large space ;
and in one corner was a small square table where we
sat and supped.
When I went out into the kitchen I found Berger
busily occupied with Nanny, the second sister, in pre-
paring our meal. As usual he was full of fun ; and
while making the dumplings, or boiling the potatoes,
he was joking vrith his pretty helpmate, and laughing
so heartily that it was quite a pleasure to hear him.
G 2
84 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
We cooked the liver of our chamois, roasted a piece of
venison that was luckily in the house, and with our
dumplings and potatoes served up a right famous
supper. And how we enjoyed it ! If anything were
wanted besides my wolfish appetite to give it a zest,
this was furnished by Berger's fun and merriment.
How he contrived to satisfy his hunger as he did, and
yet to talk so much, was to me a mystery. Now he
would play Marie some trick, who would give him a
gentle pat as a punishment, while her laughing mouth —
laughing in spite of herself — would threaten a severer
penalty •; then Lisl, the elder one, would be tried with
some satirical question, but she was clever enough to
turn the intended joke against the questioner, and
cause a hearty laugh at his discomfiture. Now would
come a sly innuendo about a lover, or a tale told me
with the utmost gravity of how Nanny had promised
she would marry him, and how he had refused — for
which unparalleled effrontery he was of course duly
made to suffer. But nothing could stop his good
humour and his flow of spirits; on he went in the
fullest joyousness, and seldom, I think, have heartier
peals of merriment resounded in the cottage than on
that pleasant evening.
Hardly was supper over when Berger took down a
guitar which was hanging up in a corner, and playing
upon it challenged the girls to accompany him in a
song. At first they would not ; but it was not likely
he was to be disconcerted by a refusal, so he began
alone, now some song about the chamois-hunter, now
THE SOLACHERS. 85
a merry Schnadahiipfl* ; and even in singing he con-
trived to have his joke, by the choice of a verse with
some sly allusion, and by the look of intelligence he
would then give this one or that as he rattled out his
noisy rhymes. But all was taken in good part ; he was
_an old friend of the house, and evidently a favourite.
W One of the girls played the cithern, and the others
accompanied her with their voices. Marie was also
at length induced to sing, and with cast- down eyes,
and as embarrassed at my presence as though a large
audience were listening, warbled forth a charming little
song, in which a Sennerinn reproaches her hunter-lover
for his long absence from her hut. Everything this
sweet young mountaineer did had a charm about it.
I thought at the time, and think so still, that I had
never seen such modest grace in any girl — she was so
truly maidenly. In her presence you felt that there
was a power which guarded her, protecting her even
against evil thought, and which, following her steps,
would shield her from any harm. And such a power
did protect her, — it was her own pure womanhood.
To understand and feel all the beauty of these simple
ditties, they must be heard under like circumstances :
beneath a cottage roof, and sung by such a group as
was here assembled round our little table. They be-
long to and form part of the mountains and mountain
life, and nowhere else do they sound so beautiful ; just
as a common wild-flower shows most bright in its
native lane or hedgerow.
* See a later Chapter.
86 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
Berger now jumped up, and pushing aside the table
to make more room, was in an instant dancing first
with one then with another of the sisters. It would
have made the prettiest pictm-e in the world, that dark
wainscoted room, with its low ceiling also of dark
wood, the girl playing the cithern and the other group
dancing to its music, with the impenetrable, imper-
turbable, silent old aunt sitting quite in shade in the
background, and calmly looking on. There is nothing
more infectious than the dance ; as soon as Berger
stopped I took the other sister and danced with her ;
a matter requiring some little skill, so small was the
space we had to perform in. When one pair stopped
the other began ; the walking and climbing of the day
was forgotten, and we changed partners many a time
that evening before we thought of going to our beds.
However, as we were to be up early on the morrow,
some hours' rest was not to be disregarded. My little
bed-room was as comfortable as possible ; everything
was homely, but neat and deliciously clean.
In a preceding chapter I spoke of the high estimation
in which the Solachers hold their calling; how they
love it above every other, and look upon aU other joys
as tame and insignificant, when compared to those
Avhich their free mountain-life affords. Some such
feeling KobeU has embodied in a little poem, of which
I
THE CHAMOIS HUNTER. 87
the following verses are a translation ; and I give them
here, because they seem to be not misplaced in a pic-
ture of mountain hfe.
SCije Chamois l^unter.
Where Edelweis* blooms on the bare rock's face,
Up there right well do I know each place ;
Up there how gladsome is life, how free !
Methinks it could nowhere more joyous be.
ISo praters are there to watch and pry,
It's too far for them, 'tis up too high ;
Up there you are with your God alone.
And mild and better your heart has grown.
And let them say whatever they will,
By night 't is there so solemn and still ;
And when the peaks in the starlight gleam
To pray more readily then I seem.
A chamois-hunter you think is poor
And more forlorn than the veriest boor ;
Yet it is not so ; for look you, if 't were,
How sad his fate should his foot but err ?
* Edelweis — Gnaphalium Leontopodium — a flower met with only
on some of the highest mountains in certain parts of Tyrol and Ba-
varia. It is to be found in Berchtesgaden, and on the Scharfreuter
in the Hinter Eiss. It is much valued for the snowy purity of its
colour, as well as on account of the difficulty of getting it. The very
name, " Noble Purity," {edel, noble, weiss, white,) has a charm about
it. Strangely enough it always grows in a spot to be reached only
with the utmost peril. You will see a tuft of its beautifully white
flowers overhanging a precipice, or waving on a perpendicular waU
of rock, to be approached but by a ledge, where perhaps a chamois
could hardly stand. But it is this very difficulty of acquisition which
gives the flower so peculiar a value, and impels many a youth to
brave the danger, that he may get a posy of Edelweis for the hat or
the bosom of the girl he loves ; and often has such a one fallen over
the rocks just as he had reached it, and been found dead, in his hand
the flower of such fatal beauty, which he still held firmly grasped.
88 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
The nearer Heaven, more sure you are
Your guardian angel cannot be far ;
But down below in the crowd he might
Now always find you or see aright.
And mark ! the DevU, who is no fool,
Prowls ever there when he wants a tool ;
Where men together so thickly herd,
He has a handful without a word.
But here 't were not worth his while, and all
He 'd get by coming would be a fall :
His God protects him, the hunter knows ;
The Devil has none, so down he goes.
Ay, up on high do I love to be.
Where boimds the chamois so wild and free ;
Where the marmot whistles from 'neath the stone.
There love I to be with my God alone !
89
CHAPTEE VIII.
THE CHAMOIS.
Having come thus far, it is time, I think, to give some
account of the chamois itself. Eirst of all be it known
the chamois is no goat*, but belongs to the antelope
genus t, of which it is the only specimen inhabiting
Em-ope. It is larger and more strongly built than a
roebuck, and is much heavier. A good buck will
weigh 5 5 lb., and one above 601b. is a particularly fine
fellow. My friend Count Arco has however shot some
that weighed 741b. and 821b. But such are rare and
difficult to get at; for these old bucks remain alone
in their inaccessible fastnesses and the most secluded
places ; and it is only when the winter has set in, and
^P * " Well, Peter, I do not think that the sport was so bad after all ;
for I believe that the chamois, in chase ,of which the Swiss risk their
lives, and are out for days together on moimtains of eternal ice and
snow, is little better than a great goat after all."
"I didna hear of sic a beast mysel; but I ken, by yer honour's
account, he is no worth the speering at." — The Art of Deer Stalking,
hy W. Scrcype, Esq., chap. vii.
t Antilope t^upicapra.
90 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the rutting season begun, that there is any chance of
seeing them. In order to do so the hunter must brave
the intense cold as well as all the dangers of a region
of snow and ice, for he will be led to spots where good
nerves are required not to feel overcome with horror
at the scene around.
The hair of the chamois changes in colour at various
seasons of the year, as is the case with the roe, and
red and fallow deer. In summer their coat is of a red
yellowish brown; in autumn it grows much darker,
and in winter is quite black. But though the changes
here indicated may be looked upon as the general
rule, there will often be found in the same herd one
or more differing strikingly from the rest, of a buff-
colour perhaps, while all the others are of a reddish
brown. The hair of the forehead, around the nose,
the lower jaw, and the inside of the ears, is of a yel-
lowish tinge, and remains throughout the year the
same. The belly, the inside of the legs, and the
shaggy hair that overhangs the hoofs, are also of this
colour, and never change ; the black stripe too, on
both sides of the head, extending from the eye to the
corners of the mouth, remains a striking feature under
every circumstance.
The outer hair is long and coarse ; that on the ridge
of the back is of greater length than on any other
part of the body, especially in winter, and of this the
ornament called " Gems-bart '' is made. Each hair is
tipped with white ; so that when a number of exactly
the same length are bound together and spread out
THE CHAMOIS. 91
like a fan, a white line is seen to border the black sur-
face, and presents a pretty appearance. The longer
the hair the more it is esteemed for this purpose.
The eye of the animal is large, dark, and intelHgent ;
it is full of animation, — but this, in its expression of
keen watchfulness, is the animation of fear. It carries
its head erect, and its graceful ears pointed, as if pre-
pared against surprise.
The horns, which are black, rise from the head just
above and between the eyes ; they are round and
rougher at the base, but incline somewhat to flatness
towards the top, which is smooth and polished. They
do not stand up perpendicularly, but slant forwards
at a right angle with the forehead ; their points, which
are very sharp, being bent back and downwards.
This feature is not peculiar to the buck alone ; there
is however considerable difference between the horns
of the male and female, which often assists the sports-
man in distinguishing the two. The horns of the male
chamois are thicker and altogether stronger-looking
than those of the female ; and instead of diverging
from each other in so straight a line as hers generally
do, their outline describes a slight curve as they rise
upwards and apart from each other. But a still more
striking characteristic of the buck is, that the points
of his horns are bent much more inwards than those
of the doe; hers form a semicircular curvature to-
wards the back, while his, turning over abruptly,
form rather a hook. This gives the head quite
another expression ; it has something more resolute
92 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
about it, as well as a dashing air and a look of
bravado. The horns of a very good buck will be
seven inches high, but I have seen some that much
exceeded this measurement*. Although, when near,
all these peculiar differences in the horns of the buck
and doe are easily discernible, at a distance the dis-
tinction of course is not so striking, and the male is
then recognized by his stronger build, by his general
appearance and more gallant bearing. It is the same
thing as with the stag, which, as he passes through
a wood, though you should not see his antlers, you
recognize instantly. How different his carriage from
that of the hind, and particularly the way in which
he bears his head ! But it requires a very practised
eye to distinguish thus with chamois, and it has often
astonished me to witness how quickly and with what
certainty the foresters have decided, almost at a glance,
whether a buck were among a herd.
The head of the chamois is admirably constructed
for uniting strength with the greatest possible light-
ness. The frontal bones are extremely thin, — so much
so indeed that they would of themselves be liable to
* The finest I ever saw are in the collection of Count Arco of
Munich, and are 9^ inches high. The buck to which they belonged
was shot by poachers at Berchtesgaden a few years ago. This col-
lection of the Count consists of antlers of the red-deer and the roe-
buck, with a fair number of the horns of the chamois, and is perhaps
the finest in the world. Never before were antlers of such magni-
ficent size and such strange formation collected together ; and the
room in which they are placed, built expressly for the purpose, and
the tasteful arrangement of the whole, contribute greatly to the
beauty of this superb collection. £30,000 has been offered for it,
and refused.
THE CHAMOIS. 98
fracture on the slightest casualty. But to make them
strong, and at the same time retain their lightness,
a second set is thrown over the first, and the space
between is divided into cells, formed by the arched
girders of solid bone which uphold the roof and bind
the whole together. The system which Nature has
here adopted is exemplified in the cells in the upper
and lower part of the tube that forms the Britannia
Bridge. Just as these thin iron plates would sepa-
rately be unable to bear much, but placed above and
united to each other present an amount of strength
and firmness capable of resisting almost any opposing
force, so these fine thin bones of the chamois' head,
thus beautifully united by an arched cellular construc-
tion, become as firm as the rock on which the creature
stands, and are at the same time so light as not to
hinder any of its agile movements. The arched girders
which occupy the space between the upper and lower
surface rise, bridge-like, with a spiral twist, and here
and there a flying buttress will give additional strength
to the walls, or a lateral arch help to support the vault
above.
The horn of the chamois is hollow up to a certain
height ; thence to the point it is a solid mass. This
hollow part of the horn however is fixed on, and
filled out with, a bony substance which grows with
and forms part of the skull itseK. By a forcible twist
the two may be separated. When fighting the animal
lowers his horns under the throat of his opponent, or
turns his head sideways, that the sharp points may
94 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
come against his shoulder, and then drawing them
back he endeavours in this way to inflict a wound.
Among the many stories related of the chamois, it
was said that they made use of their crooked horns
to let themselves down by, in places where descent by
other means was impossible. Ridiculous as the tale is,
many believed it ; but of such hereafter.
The food of these animals consists of the herbs
found on the mountains, and the buds and young
sprouts of the alpine rose and the latschen. This is
their sole sustenance ; no creature therefore is more
innoxious than the chamois, and the wholesale destruc-
tion of them which has taken place since 1848 cannot
even be excused on the plea that, like the red-deer, they
occasionally tread down and injure the crops of the
husbandman. They keep to their rocks, delighting in
the highest and most inaccessible places ; and it is only
when winter sets in with all its rigour, that they de-
scend to seek shelter and food in the woods somewhat
lower down the mountain. At this season they feed
on such grass and leaves as they can find, and probably
also on the Iceland moss, which is met with on the
mountains. In their stomach a hard dark-coloured
ball is often found, bitter to the taste, but of an agree-
able smell : this is called Bezoar, and owes its forma-
tion to the fibrous, resinous nature of the substances
on which the chamois feeds.
The rutting season begins in November. At this
period a sort of bladder forms beneath the skin at
the root of the buck's horns, the lymph within which
THE CHAMOIS. 95
has so strong a musk-like smell, that if the animal
be shot at this time the odour will remain for years.
Now too the stronger bucks make their appearance,
and desperate battles take place. You may be startled
also by an occasional bleat, uttered with angry im-
patience in the fervour of desire. If able to imitate
the call, you will soon see a black form leaping along
through the latschen or over the rocks, and coming
towards the spot whence the sound proceeded. The
period of gestation in the doe is twenty weeks. In
May her young kid may be seen beside her, playing
in the prettiest manner, leaping into the sunny air
and rolling on its back upon the soft herbage. With
a bound it will turn heels over head; not however
forwards or backwards, but sideways ; a proof of the
wonderful strength and elasticity of its limbs even at
this young stage of its existence.
There is something very amusing in the wiseacre
look of such a little kid. Its bright eye twinkles like
a star; its silly little face is full of drollery; and,
pricking up its pretty velvet ears, it will turn its head
most knowingly on one side, and seem to cogitate on
the meaning of a flitting shadow : and then, not from
any fear, but out of mere fun, will start away as
though the shadow were its playfellow and were run-
ning after it in sport.
A doe has generally but one kid at a time; that
she should have two is however by no means of un-
frequent occurrence. The little creature at its birth
is of a dark brovmish-yellow colour.
96 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
There is perhaps no animal so peaceful and at the
same time so timid as the chamois. Nature therefore,
besides endowing it with a facility of climbing into
the most inaccessible places, and thus avoiding pursuit,
has enabled it to guard against the approach of danger
by the great acuteness of its senses of sight, smell, and
hearing. It is this which makes it so very difficult to get
near them. A rolling stone or a spoken word at once
attracts their attention ; and they will look and listen
to discover whence the sound has come that breaks
the silence of their mountain solitude. For an incre-
dibly long time they will then stand gazing fixedly in
one direction, quite immoveable ; and if it happen to
be towards something in yoiu* neighbourhood that
their attention has been attracted, you must lie still
and close indeed to escape their observation. The
eyes of the whole herd will be fixed on the spot in a
long steady stare ; and as you anxiously watch them
from afar they almost look like fragments of rock, so
motionless are they while they gaze. You begin to
hope they have found no cause for alarm, when
" Phew 1" the sharp whistle tells they have fathomed
the mystery, and away they move to the precipitous
rocks overhead : unless panic-stricken, they stop from
time to time to look behind; and then suddenly
uttering the peculiar shrill sound, again move on.
It is true that on the mountains, where an awful
silence ever broods, the slightest noise breaking the
stillness is heard with wonderful distinctness a great
way off; but even making allowance for this, there is
THE CHAMOIS. 97
sufficient evidence that the senses of these animals are
particularly acute. If but the gentlest wave be moving
in the air, coming from you to them, they at once
become aware of your presence, long before you per-
ceive them or they see you.
In the human being this particular sense is, com-
paratively speaking, less developed than the others*.
It is the one which man least needs, not wanting it
for his safety, but possessing it solely to minister to
his pleasures. "When therefore we find it extremely
acute in another animal, it strikes us more than any
example of an unusually sharp sight or an extraor-
dinary power of hearing ; just as we are always more
astonished at that in another which we are least able
to achieve ourselves. A chamois, when dashing down
the mountains, will suddenly stop as if struck by a
thunderbolt, some yards from the spot where recent
human footprints are to be found in the snow, and,
turning scared away, rush off immediately in an op-
posite direction. The taint which the presence of the
hunter has left behind is perceived by it long after he
has passed.
The agility of the chamois has become almost pro-
verbial ; but to have any idea of what it is, one must
be an eye-vntness of the bounds they make, and see
the places they will race down at full speed when
* This sense of smell is developed in a very high degree in the
wild boar. I have often been surprised, when stealing upon one in
the woods, to observe how soon he has become aware of my neigh-
bourhood. Lifting his head, he would sniff the air inquiringly, then,
uttering a short grunt, make off as fast as he could.
H
98 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
pursued. A smooth surface of rock, so smooth that a
footing there seems impossible, and of nearly perpen-
dicular steepness, is no obstacle to their flight. Down
they go, now bounding, now gliding, with a velocity
which seems to ensure their being inevitably dashed
to pieces.
The chief strength of the animal is in its hind legs,
which, if extended, would be longer than the others.
On this account it springs upwards with more ease
than it descends the mountain, and on level ground
its walk is clumsy and ungraceful. It is not made to
run, but bounds along over the ground. The hoof is
cloven, long and pointed, and the slot of the chamois
resembles that of a sheep. The edges are sharp,
which causes it to slip easily on the ice, and on this
account it rather avoids passing the glaciers. When
standing, the hind legs are always bent, as if the
animal were preparing to lie down, which no doubt
helps considerably to break the fall when leaping
from a great height. Notwithstanding this, the croup
is still somewhat higher than the fore part of the
body. The elastic force which the hind legs possess
is immense. With a sudden bound the chamois will
leap up against the face of a perpendicular rock, and
merely touching it with its hoofs, rebound again in
an opposite direction to some higher crag, and thus
escape from a spot where, without wings, egress
seemed impossible. When reaching upwards on its
hind legs, the fore hoofs resting on some higher spot,
it is able to stretch to a considerable distance, and
THE CHAMOIS. 99
with a quick spring mil bring up its hind quarters
to a level with the rest of the body, and, with all foui-
hoofs close together, stand poised on a point of rock
not broader than your hand. On narrow overhanging
ledges some thousand feet high they walk and gaze
about, enjoying the secmity from pursuit which such
spots afford.
But astonishing as their dexterity really is, much
has been related of them that has no foundation in
fact, any more than the tale of their placing sentinels
to announce when danger is near. Indeed there is
something very strange in the imperfect information
obtained about the chamois, and the marvellous stories
related of it, and of those who went in its pursuit.
That this should have been the case for a time is very
natural, especially in places remote from where the
chamois was to be found. I conceive too that even
later, and where men dwelt who followed the chase,
there still hung about the chamois-hunter's Kfe some-
what of mystery. We can well imagine that he was
looked upon as one familiar with places where ordi-
nary men would fear to venture, — accustomed to have
Death stalking beside him as a companion, and to
meet him face to face. His departure for the moun-
tain — an unknown region hidden in cloud, and mist,
and mystery, — his absence for whole days together,
his startling accounts of the wildness, the silence and
the solitude, and then occasionally the going forth of
one alone who never returned, — all this gave a dim
and dread uncertainty to the pursuit ; and where un-
H 2
100 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
certainty is, imagination will be busy at her work.
His very countenance — his widely-opened eye, always
on the watch — even this must have awakened strange
surmises of sights more fearful than he had yet
hinted of.
But that much ignorance on the subject should
have continued to the present day is still more re-
markable, since the home of the chamois — Bavaria,
the Tyrol, Switzerland, Styria — are not remote lands,
but lie in the very heart of Europe. Had it been
otherwise, this haze and indistinctness might have
been accounted for by distance, which effaces outlines,
and invests objects with tints, and shapes, and propor-
tions that are not their own.
One author of recent date acknowledges that little
is known of the habits of these animals, and accounts
for it by the circumstance of "the chamois-hunter
being generally a rude, uncultivated being ; and that,
as to naturalists, they have seldom had an opportunity
of observing this animal in its sohtary and dangerous
haunts." The writer of this ' New and Perfect Art
of Venery* repeats also an account to be found in
many earlier works, which as a curiosity is worth ex-
tracting : — " One really great peculiarity is the way
in which the chamois cross the fields of snow without
sinking in. On account of their narrow and sharply-
pointed hoofs they would naturally fall through, and
the snow would be unable to carry them. They there-
fore hasten their flight in the following cunning man-
ner. The last chamois jumps on the back of the one
THE CHAMOIS. 101
before him, passes in this way over the backs of all
the others, and then places himself at their head ;
the last but one does the same, and the others follow
in order ; and in this manner they have soon passed
over such a field of snow." The same writer tells us
also that " it is their inner heat which impels them to
seek those places where snow is to be found."
[ A most curious opinion seems to have been preva-
lent — for I find the same thing related in old books
of natural history, as well as in the recent publica-
tion from which the above extracts are taken — ^with
regard to the chamois, when hard pressed and unable
to escape its pursuers. I give the whole passage : —
" The most dangerous chase of all is that of the cha-
mois. The hunter must manage all alone, as neither
man nor dog can be of any service to him. His ac-
coutrements consist of an old coat, a bag with dry
bread, cheese, and meat, a gun, his hunting-knife,
and a pair of irons for the feet. He then drives the
chamois from one crag to the other, making them
always mount higher, climbs after them, and shoots
them if he can, or if he finds it necessary ; but if that
should not be the case, and he has driven one so far
that it is no longer able to elude him, he approaches
quite close, puts his hunting-knife to its side, loliich
Wie chamois of its own accord pushes into its body,
and then falls down headlong from the rock."
In another work published at Frank for t-on-the-
Maine in the year 1601, it is also said: — "At last,
when the chamois can go no further, and the hunter
102 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
is about to throw or thrust it down from the precipice,
if he draweth his knife and will thrust the same into
it, the chamois pusheth its ovjn body with force wpon the
knife; whereupon it is caught, and falleth downwards
from a great height. The skin remaineth generally
quite unbroken*." The same old writer tells us : —
" Some hunters do drink the blood and the fat, that
they may thereby obtain a steady head and freedom
from giddiness when they come to steep places, and
when they must hold on very firmly."
It is not at all unlikely that these properties were
attributed to the animal's blood ; for the hunter, like
all men who live much with Nature, and make com-
panionship with her various aspects, is by no means
free from superstition. At the present day even the
peasantry of Bavaria consider a certain part of the stag,
when dried and powdered, a potent remedy in diseases
of the bladder ; and the resinous-looking drops which
are found in the corners of the hart's eyes, called by
some the "tears" of the stag, are looked upon by
many as a sure specific in various disorders.
Strange are the shifts to which it is said the cha-
mois-hunter is sometimes put, when, like the animal
* This is true. Though the body be never so bruised, the skin
always remains whole. It is also a peculiarity of the skin of a cha-
mois that it is of the same thickness throughout. By this you may
always distinguish it from other skins, which are much thinner in
some places than in others. Dealers who wish to palm ojff doe for
chamois leather assist the deception by cutting a sHt in some part
and sewing the hole up again, such being always found in real cha-
mois-skins where the ball has passed. If however you feel the skins
carefully, you can hardly be deceived.
THE CHAMOIS. 103
he is in pursuit of, "he can go no further." The
author of the ' New and Perfect Art of Venery/ who
has given so amusing an account of how the chamois
play at leap-frog over the snow, says that in such
cases, " when the hunter can get neither forwards nor
backwards, and is unable to save himself by a leap,
nought is left him but to fling off everything, and
wounding the soles of his feet cause the blood to flow,
so that by its stickiness he may be enabled to hold
himself better on the slippery rocks.*'
In the ardour of pursuit, indeed, one might easily
get into a place whence, unassisted, it would be quite
impossible ever to get out. A spot may often be seen
below which can be reached by a jump or by sliding
downwards ; but the question is, whether, when once
there, it will be possible to get further or back again ;
for though you may let yourself down the smooth rock,
there is no climbing up its steep surface. It is there-
fore necessary to be assured of this before taking such
a leap, or you may find yourself, like the Emperor
Maximilian, on a narrow ledge of rock, at your back
the smooth stone, and before and below you nothing
but the yielding air.
104 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
^Ott.
I SUBJOIN a few points of difference between the Goat and tlie Cha-
mois. Their skeletons, it seems, are not the same ; for not having
myself examined the arrangement of the bones in the two animals,
I quote, regarding their formation, from ' Histoire Natnrelle, gene-
rale et particuliere, avec la Description du Cabinet dn Roi. Tome
douzieme. Paris, mdcclxiv.' " L'apophyse epinense de la seconde
vertebre cervicale differe de celle du bouc, en ce qu'eUe est moins
haute et presqu'aussi saiUante en arriere qu'en avant, ce qui ne se
trouve ni dans la gazelle, ni dans le cerf, le chevreml, etc. ; la branche
inferieure de l'apophyse oblique de la sixieme vertebre n'est pas
echancree comme dans le bouc : elle ressemble a ceUe de la gazelle,
du chevreuil, etc." The frontal bone of the chamois, just before the
horns, is concave ; that of the goat, convex. The horns of the latter
recede ; those of the former animal always advance. The goat's
horns too are flat near their base, and wrinkled ; the chamois' are
round, and not indented. The goat has frequently a beard, a cha-
mois never ; nor does it emit any disagreeable odour except during
the rutting season, whilst the effluvium of the goat is always insup-
portable. The nose of the chamois is not drawn back like the goat ;
consequently the upper lip projects less beyond the nostrils. Its
upper teeth advance slightly over the lower ; in the goat they rest
exactly on each other. In the chamois there is less depth from the
top of the head to the lower jaw than in the goat, which gives the
head more lightness and greater elegance of form. But the most
decisive proof of the non-affinity, of the two animals is that they never
generate together. Although in the mountains herds of goats are
constantly wandering about near the haunts of the chamois, no one
instance is known of a she-goat having brought forth young which
were a cross between the two breeds. The chamois indeed always
avoid the j>lace8 where goats have strayed. They dislike all intru-
sion on their solitude. The Steinbock ( Cwpra Ibex) on the contrary,
classed by naturalists among the goat genus, cohabits occasionally
M ith the tame animal ; and offspring presenting the peculiar features
of such mixed race have been seen not unfrequently in Switzerland.
Tlie author cited above says that chamois, when taken young and
brought up with the domestic goat, " vraisemhlablement s'accouplcnt
THE CHAMOIS. 105
et produisent ensemble." In this he is mistaken. He adds however
that he never heard of any example of the kind. " J'avoue cependant
que ce fait, le plus important de tons, et qui seul deciderait la ques-
tion (of homogeneousness of race), ne nous est pas connu; nous n'avons
pu savoir, ni par nous, ni par les autres, si les chamois produisent
avec nos chevres ; seulement nous le soup^onnons."
It is quite evident then that chamois are not merely ^erte caprcB.
It was an originally wild animal, and not one become so by having
wandered away into the wilderness. Animals wild by nature always
retain somewhat of that original state, if taken even at their birth
and attempted to be tamed. Goats, though quite at hberty, still
like the society of man, and will come skipping to the spot where he
is ; indeed from the earliest times the goat is always mentioned as a
household animal. The chamois, on the contrary, will flee at the very
approach of a human being ; and its terror and natural timidity can
never be overcome, even though you may have reared it as a kid,
and it has lived among men for years.
106
CHAPTER IX.
KREUTH.
On coming down next morning 1 found coffee await-
ing me, which Nanny had made in order that I might
have a warm breakfast before starting. We took the
same road as the preceding day, till near the summit
of the mountain ; we then directed our steps at once
to the ridge, whence a view could be obtained far
down its sides and into the deep bottom. Here we
waited a long time, in hopes that some chamois would
be on the move, but in vain. One of the delights
attending the pursuit of game in the highlands is,
that, even should the pleasure of a successful day's
sport be wanting, the grandeur of the scenery amidst
which you move is in some sort a recompense for
the labour endured. It is ever varying ; and should
the cloud-drift or the sun-rays not produce their end-
less changes, you are sure that in going a hundred
steps further some new feature will present itself, or
that you will see the same under a totally different
KREUTH. 107
aspect. Our view here extended over fields of snow,
stretching along the horizon into endless distance —
one vast range of desert and of frost.
As nothing was to be seen we descended, intending
to go toward the Kaiser Klause, where we confidently
expected to find game. Passing at the foot of the
rocks where the day before my chamois had dropped,
Berger went to fetch his knife, which he had forgotten,
while I kept on to the left. Here the whole decHvity,
which was long and steep, was covered with large
blocks of stone, lying in all positions, some firmly
wedged, and others so loose that without the greatest
care your foot slipped down between them ; — nothing
more easy than to break an ankle in such a place !
After crossing this sea of stone for nearly three-
quarters of an hour, fog and mist came drifting to-
wards me, followed by a thick rain, while the wind
increased at every moment ; and by the time I was
nearly at the end of my stony passage, it came blow-
ing furiously over the ridge in front. The rain too
now poured down in torrents, the wind was bitingly
cold, and in a few minutes I was wet to the skin.
With such weather all stalking was at an end ; so I
began to look about for Berger, whom I last saw far
off combating with the blast and with the difiiculties
of his position. I made a sign to return ; and when
we got lower down, the wind, coming up from the
other side, rushed by over our heads without much
inconveniencing us.
" I looked well at the place you fired from y ester-
108 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
day/' said Berger ; " I am quite sure it was more than
a hundred and thirty yards. When looking upwards
from below, one sees how far it is."
By the time we got to the green hill-side where we
first saw the chamois, the rain had ceased, the gloom
had disappeared, and air and sky were bright again.
Berger proposed that I should take my stand at a
certain tree, while he would go down to the path, and
entering the wood some distance off, pass through it
in an oblique direction.
" Most likely it is not empty," said he ; " and if
chamois are there, they will come out near yonder
trees, pass within shot of you, and then bear away
in a curve for the higher ground*. Here you have
chance enough, and if anything comes you will have
a fair shot, though perchance a long one. However,
any you may get here will be easy after that of yes-
terday."
I took up my position beside the withered trunk
* It may often seem unaccountable to one not a sportsman, how
the movements of the game can be predicted with such certainty.
It depends of course very much on the nature of the ground, as
well as on the habits of the animal in question. Sometimes how-
ever, as in certain steep guUies, there is but one single path by which
man or beast can get out of them ; and if the hunter can reach that
spot unobserved he is sure of a shot eventually ; for as soon as the
chamois are disturbed, by the rolling of a stone or any other means
taken to make them move, on they come to the well-known path.
Perhaps they may observe their danger : if they do, they will stand
stiU and gaze before attempting the pass ; and then, well aware that
it is the sole place of egress, they will rush headlong forwards, braving
in their extremity every danger. Chamois pcrceiv(^ in an instant the
perils of their position when retreat is thus cut off, and their con-
sternation is great and evident.
KREUTH.
of a tree, anxiously listening for any sound. At last
there was a rustling, and Berger emerged from the
wood : he had seen nothing. It was too late in the day
to think of trying elsewhere ; we therefore at once set
off homewards. When we had proceeded some way
down the mountain, a bounding was heard among the
underwood, as of an animal in flight. We listened:
there were two. Berger ran forward, and saw a couple
of chamois making for the rocky pastures on the other
side of the Miesing, just below its summit, and where
no one could follow.
" There the wall of rock is perpendicular," Berger
observed : " that is their usual retreat Avhen pursued.
It would be useless to follow them, for they pass
along the narrow ledges, and wait in places where
there is no approaching them."
" But how low down they were ! Who would have
thought of meeting them here ?"
"Ay, who indeed?" answered Berger. "I came
nearly as far as this when I went through the bushes ;
I thought it was far enough. Had I but gone a little
further, they would both have gone upwards, and have
come out, as I said, where you were standing. You
might then have brought down both."
"If we had gone toward the Klause today, do you
think we should have seen anything?" I asked.
" Yes," he replied, " for some capital places are
there. If we had seen no chamois we might still have
met with deer. The number of stags there formerly
was astonishing. Even now, after so many have been
110 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
killed, fifty were shot quite lately. The order was
given to destroy them, so the under-gamekeepers shot
all they could find."
"But what a pity to exterminate them in that
way!
" Pity indeed, for they do no harm to anybody, —
there is nothing for them to destroy. But you see it
is close to the frontier, and poaching now is carried
on so audaciously that we have no alternative but to
shoot everything."
" Had you ever an adventure with any of the
poachers there?" I asked.
" Oh, yes," said he ; " and once in particular I
acted foolislily enough : I went to a hut, and finding
the door fastened on the inside, suspected there were
some fellows inside. Foolhardy as 1 was, I went to
the back window and tried to get in there. I had
got my shoulders through, when what should I see
through the door that divided the hut but a band
of poachers who had taken shelter there ? Back I
squeezed myself quick enough, you may be sure.
The fellows saw me too, but I was off and behind a
tree just in time."
"Did they not follow you?"
" Not they ; some came as far as the door, but when
they found I was not to be seen they did not trust
themselves any further ; for had 1 liked, the first that
came out might have had a ball sent through him;
and that they knew."
" And how did you get off?"
KREUTH.
" Oh, easily enough : I went from one tree to an-
other, and when I was out of shot walked away at
my leisure."
We now went to the cottage of the Solachers to
fetch the chamois, and without delay set off for Fisch-
bachau, which Ave reached before dusk.
On the morrow I bade my friends farewell, and
set off betimes for Egem. In the afternoon I left for
Kreuth, and went at once to the forester.
If ever a man had an honest open countenance it
was this one. His bared throat was, hke his face,
ruddy from exposure to wind and weather. I felt
sure of a good reception as soon as I looked at him,
and presented my letter with confidence. He pro-
mised to do what he could; but then came the old
tale of the scarcity of game, and the many difficulties
attendant on granting the permission required. He
told me that the following day nothing could be done,
for none of the assistant foresters were at home : they
were out on the mountains, and it was uncertain what
day they would return.
The next morning on rising I found it was raining,
and this continued the whole day. In the evening
the young foresters returned, and as Max Solacher
sat over his tankard of beer in the parlour of the
inn, I made his acquaintance. He has a name for
being an excellent sportsman, and is considered one
of the best chmbers in the mountains. I found him
below the middle height, — a great advantage in cer-
tain difficult places ; but his limbs were firmly knit.
112 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and it was always a pleasure to look at his sinewy
legs as he stepped lightly along up the mountain
before me. A chamois-hunter has never any super-
abundant flesh ; he is spare of habit, and I have re-
marked, or perhaps only fancied I did so, that in his
eye is something peculiar, common to all of his class.
It has seemed to me that, animated as it is when on
the mountain or under the influence of surprise oi*
excitement, at other times when meeting him ])y
chance in common daily intercourse its expression is
wanting, as though the feelings that gave it life were
slumbering. If there be anything in this beyond
mere fancy, I can well account for the circumstance.
A chamois-hunter on the plain is like a sailor on
shore, — ^he is surrounded by uncongenial objects, and
these and the incidents that exist and take place
about him are to him matters of little interest : they
in no wise awaken his sympathy. As the seaman
is ill at ease on land and wants to be afloat again,
so the hunter is impatient to get back to his moun-
tains. There he is at home, — in all that surrounds
him he feels an interest. But the flat land and its
occupations are to him tame and tedious; and so
he saunters along, and the sparkle of his eye is
dimmed by listlessness. Let however but a sound
be heard which calls his attention, and at once the
eye is dilated; it is wide open and prominent, the
lids drawn far back, and the pupil is seen in a large
surrounding space of white. The habit of attentive
watching, of ever-constant vigilance, the frequent pre-
KREUTH.
seiice of danger and the narrow escapes from risk — all
these cause the eye to acquire a certain fixedness of
look, as if it were guarding against surprise. That
this is not mere fancy on my part is proved by a
circumstance which occurred to me while writing
this. After having spent some weeks in the moun-
tains I returned direct to Munich, and the very first
observation a friend made on meeting me again was,
that my eyes had a different expression : " You have
got," he said, " a chamois-hunter s eyes!' He had
not, probably, remarked the peculiarity in this class
of men as I had done ; but he saw something strange
in my looks, and knowing where I had been, at once
attributed the appearance which so struck him to my
recent pursuits*.
I remember too, when once at the Konigs See, and
while at the house of the forester waiting till the rain
ceased, an under-gamekeeper came into the room.
He had been out three days on the mountains and
had just returned. The man's look would have struck
any one. At that time all relating to mountain hfe
was strange to me, and the whole appearance of the
new comer excited my curiosity. He was tall, gaunt,
and bony; his brown and sinewy knees were bare,
* Not a week after penning these lines, I happened to be looking
tlirougli a volume of Hazlitt, and found tlie following remarks, wHcli
at once reminded me of my own observations on the look of the cha-
mois-hunter. I was very pleased to find them, as they confirmed
what I had said. He is speaking of Raphael : " His figures have al-
ways an in-door look .... and want that wild uncertainty of expres-
sion which is connected with the accidents of nature and the changes
of the elements." — The Round Table: On Gusto.
I
114 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and scratched and scarred ; his beard was black and
long, his hair shaggy, and hunger was in his face ; the
whole man looked as if he had just escaped from the
den of a wolf, where he had been starved and in daily
expectation of being eaten. But it was his eyes — it
was the wild staring fixedness of his eyes — that kept
mine gazing on him. The bent eagle-nose, the high,
fleshless cheek-bones, added to their power. There
was no fierceness in them, nor were they greedy eyes;
but they were those of a man who had been snatched
from a horrible death, in whom the recollection was
not yet effaced nor was ever likely to be. They were
always wide open : the whole creature seemed vigi-
lant, and awaiting at every moment to have to wrestle
with fate. But this was observable in the eyes alone,
not in the other features ; for the nostril was not dis-
tended nor the lips clenched, as they must have been
to harmonize with the meaning that was in his eyes.
I thought I had seen the man before : when it sud-
denly occurred to me that it was the head of the
"Ugolino*" I was staring at.
I entered into conversation with him, and he told
me that not long ago he had slipped on the ice and
slidden down a long way without being able to stop
himself. He was in expectation every moment of
going to the bottom of the abyss, where, even had he
not been dashed to pieces, he could never have got
out again, when his foot was caught and he went no
further. His pole and rifle flew down into the gulf.
* The Ugolino of Sir Josliua Reynolds.
■e
KREUTH. 115
o go after them was impossible ; for fields of ice
were there, with large clefts in them, and into one of
these frightful crevices both had doubtless fallen.
Had he told me that, Prometheus-hke, he had been
hained to a glacier for a whole winter amid the icy
orld of the mountain-top, exposed to the rains and
tempests and the dreary darkness, I could almost
have believed his words, so in unison were his features
and his whole appearance with such a tale.
I was glad to find that I should be able to go out
in company with Max Solacher, or Maxl as he was
familiarly called ; for many friends had told me that
with him, being one of the best stalkers, there would
be more chance of success than with any one else.
The next morning at five o'clock he came to the inn
to fetch me, and we saUied forth at once into the grey
dawn. After following the road for some distance we
tm-ned aside and entered the forest ; and when the
light of the morning had come over the hill-tops and
penetrated into the hollows, and through the gloomy
boughs, it showed that even already the characteristics
of mountain scenery had begun. Beside the rugged
path a wild torrent was tumbling over blocks of stone,
that in some preceding spring had been loosened and
washed down from the higher ground by the rush of
a thousand streams. Some huge tree had been felled,
and in the deep part thrown across it as a bridge, the
branches hanging down in the water, and its trunk
mercilessly split and hacked. It was a region of wood,
where a whole tree would perhaps be taken to mend
I 2
116 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the pathway, or mighty stems cut down and left to
rot during succeeding winters. On the hill-side great
pines were standing out against the sky, half-uprooted
by the blast that had descended upon them suddenly
from above ; and others, scathed and shivered, were
crushing with their weight a young forest that had
sprung up beneath their shade. On looking upwards,
on both sides and before you was dark solemn foliage,
and afar off perhaps and high up a sharp line, beyond
which was the welcome sky. We were indeed in the
mountains.
Continually ascending, we went on till we came to
a steep slope. Above us the trees were not so dense,
and we were able to see far from the spot where we
stood. We looked, and in silence. Presently, with his
eyes still fixed on some object above him. Max pulled
out his telescope and made a survey.
" There are chamois," he said. " I see one, but
there are others, I know."
The chamois he now pointed out to me I had seen
some minutes before ; but as it was a great way off,
and quite motionless, I had not recognized it. In-
deed one is constantly deceived ; for at a distance a
chamois is but a small black spot, and stones and
bushes often assume the appearance of the game ; it
is only when you examine them through your glass,
that you see what they really are.
"But how are we to get at them?" observed my
companion, looking round and examining the relative
position of the chamois and ourselves. It really was
KREUTH. 117
110 easy matter. They were some two or three thou-
sand yards from where we stood, and between us and
them was a very deep and precipitous ravine; not
rugged however, but covered with a few trees and a
scanty herbage.
" We must go back again," said he, " get down the
gully, and up the other side over the lahne. It is
troublesome work, but there is no other way of get-
ting at them. We must then stalk through the trees,
and get as near them as possible.'* So looking well
at the place where they stood and at the surrounding
objects, we went down the gully, along some pro-
jecting rocks, and up the other side. Solacher con-
stantly kept one point in his eye, in order not to lose
the direction of the spot we were making for. At last
he stopped to look about him, and to determine with
exactitude where the game might be. Our plan was,
to get round and above it ; we had therefore to be
cautious not to describe too small a circle in our
approach. Max now advanced stealthily, while I re-
mained behind ; and " craning " over a bit of rock he
espied them to the left.
"There they are!" he whispered; "they have
winded us and are moving. Quick ! A little more
forward, — don't you see them ? There, by the stump
of a tree!"
I only saw one, and that was more than half
hidden by the stems; but as there was no time to
lose I fired.
" He 's down!" cried Solacher ; and we ran forward
118 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
to get a second shot as the others should come into
sight. But they were too quick. We went to the one
I had shot, and found to my chagrin it was a kid.
This was vexatious, but it was the only one I saw, and
being partly hidden, I had not, in the shade of the
wood, been able to distinguish it. While we were
cleaning it, there was a croaking and a rustling of
wings in the air.
" Ha ! there are the ravens," said Solacher; " hardly
has the rifle cracked, before those birds are on the
spot. Where they come from I can't tell ; for though
not one was to be seen before, as soon as anything is
shot they appear directly."
As my companion would have to carry the cha-
mois the whole day, I believe he was not sorry it was
only a kid ; for to him this was nothing, and he felt
the difference no more than if an additional bullet or
two had been put into his riicksack.
We went up higher, and then kept along the side
of the mountain ; we presently crept forward, and
looked over into an immense chasm. Solacher drew
back with a start. " Chamois are there," he whispered ;
" but they have heard us. What a pity ! They are
off — ^they are moving," he said, again peeping over.
" Ah, the devil take you and your whistling !" he con-
tinued angrily, as one of the herd uttered the shrill
long-drawn-out sound that betokens fear. "But, quick!
get a shot if you can."
It was a tremendously long shot at an animal so
small as a chamois, and I said it was useless to fire.
KREUTH.
It 's two hundred yards," replied Solacher, " but
there is nothing else to be done. We cannot get
nearer to them : 'tis a chance if you hit ; however you
rn but try."
I therefore sat down, and resting my elbow on my
knee, prepared to fire.
K. " Tell me which one you aim at."
"The one to the left of the rock," I answered.
" Now he 's moving, — that one," and my rifle thun-
dered in the hollow as if the whole mountain was
shaken down. " It 's missed, I know," I said at the
same moment.
" It was a venture," he replied; " at that distance I
too might have shot twenty times and missed. There
they go, — but slowly," and the whole herd passed
along the bottom of the stony hoUow.
It was a wild place, that hollow ! We stood on the
brink of it; and before us, reaching up to the very sky-
line, was the rent in the mountain that frost or water,
or some other of the powerful agents by which Nature
works her changes, had made in its steep side. It
was like a stone-quarry, but of gigantic size, — wild,
forlorn, and desolate.
" There they go, but slowly," said Solacher, watch-
ing the retreating herd. " Now they stop and graze.
There 's one lying down, — the maledite brood !"
" Could we not get down to the right, and stalk up
round the mountain, and so meet them?" I asked,
not knowing the ground.
" Yes, we might, but the wind is now coming up-
120 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
wards, and they would be off : it is no good. If I
had only seen them directly I looked over, we might
have crept round and had a capital shot."
We sat down and watched them — the usual conso-
lation on such occasions ; and we pulled out and ate
our crust. Erom here we saw the massy Plau Berg,
slightly covered with snow. It is the first consider-
able mountain between Tegernsee and the Tyrol, and
rises like a strong rampart above the narrow valley of
Kreuth.
We now went downwards, and across a lawn-like
meadow, on which stood a hut. We espied two cha-
mois ; but what was to be done ? the wind was so fa-
vourable there was hardly any chance of being able
to approach within shot. We determined therefore
that it would be best to try and drive them; so
taking up my position on the right, while Max Sola-
cher went through the wood, I awaited the result.
But we were unsuccessful; instead of going along
the declivity, they moved away over the brow of the
hill. In a glade lower down we soon after tracked a
good stag ; " And he has been here lately too," said
my companion, distending his nostrils and sniffing the
tainted air.
As we were going homewards we discovered among
the trees a man with a rifle at his back. On ap-
proaching nearer we found it was old Solacher, the
uncle of Max and brother of the old aunt at Baierisch
Zell.
"He is seventy-two years old," my companion told
KREUTH. 121
me ; "and he will still go up any mountain. He has
no breath at all!'' by which he meant to say that he
never was out of breath, let the ascent he had to
mount be long as it might. It was he who had once
had an affair with a bear. When it was known that
the animal was in the mountains, a general turn-out
took place and the pursuit began. Old Solacher — young
then however — contrived to wound him, but the bear
did not drop, and though he followed the red track
for hours he was unable to come up with him again.
He got away then, but was shot fom* years after in
the Tyrol.
The next morning I was up betimes; but on looking
out of the window and finding the mountains covered
with mist, I turned in again. It afterwards cleared
up, and Max proposed we should set off" in the after-
noon for a hut, where we could sleep, and go out the
first thing in the morning. " We shall then be close
at hand,'' he observed, " and can have a splendid stalk.
Where I intend to go is the best place we have, and
after the two drives reserved for the King it is the
one I like most. We must take something with us, to
cook our schmarren — some meal and butter, and some
bread. We shall be warm enough in the hay."
" Well, when shall we start?"
"Why, it is dark now by five o'clock, so it will be
better to leave at one." And having got our things
together, off" we set, in good spirits and buoyant with
expectation.
122
CHAPTER X.
THE ALM HUTTE.
At one o'clock we set off. The snow was gradually
disappearing from the summit and sides of the Plau
Berg, and in place of the smooth, unbroken, equal
surface, the rugged dark rock showed itself in patches
through the glittering covering.
" It must be warmer up yonder than it is here,"
observed Solacher. "The snow is creeping slowly
away and will soon all be gone."
"Is there any stalking to be had there now?" I
asked.
" No, it is a hundred chances to one that we
should find anything. You see, being just on the
frontier, the Tyrolians come over the mountains ; and
formerly even they were constantly trying what they
could get. However, on such a mountain as that
the chamois will hardly be exterminated. They have
so many places where they can maintain themselves
against pursuit ; and be sure, long after every chamois
THE ALM HUTTE. 123
is destroyed in the neighbourhood, on the Plau Berg
they will still be found."
L "Are any ugly places there?" I asked.
"Yes, some are ugly enough. But it is not ab-
solutely necessary to go where they are, with the ex-
ception of one, and that cannot well be avoided. You
have to step along a very steep and narrow ledge ;
and then a place is to be crossed, — you have to spring
across it, — which, if not sure-footed and free from
giddiness, one could hardly manage, for below it goes
down a tremendous depth. That is the only place you
are absolutely obliged to pass, and there you vmst
go, for by no other way is it possible to get out."
" There is a ridge too, is there not, which is very
narrow, with a precipice on each side?"
" Yes, but that is not much : it is narrow, but if
you are only steady you may walk across it easily."
" Not so easily though," I said : "a friend of
mine walked along it, but after a few steps he was
obliged to sit down, and with his legs dangling on
each side to cross it astride. Did you ever meet any
poachers on the Plau Berg, Maxl?" I asked.
"Yes," said he; "I and two assistant-foresters were
on the mountains, and we saw seven men, Tyrolians,
all armed and looking for chamois. We called to
them, and off they ran. One of them however I
overtook ; I kept his gun, hat, and pov/der-horn, and
then let him go."
" But as there were seven of them, I wonder they
made off."
124 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
"Oh," said he, laughing, "the Tyrohans are afraid
of the Bavarian balls: they never hold out, but di-
rectly they espy one of us they take to their heels.
Some years since a Tyrolian was missed : he had come
over, it seems, and had been on the Plau Berg, but
he never returned. His friends came and searched
for him, and made every possible inquiry, but all in
vain ; he was never heard of again. Well, since then
the Tyrolians have grown shy : they think perhaps
that if they come, they too may not find their way
home again."
The manner in which my friend Maxl told this
story, made me strongly suspect he knew very well
why the Tyrolian never went home again. Of course
he vowed that he knew nothing of the matter, and it
certainly is possible he did not; but there was an
archness and a gusto in the way he spoke of it, that
made me feel sure of the contrary. As the man's
friends never found him, there was certainly a pos-
sibility that he had fallen over a precipice, and that
the body had rolled down into some deep impene-
trable chasm. Such a mountain is of immense extent ;
the rents, and clefts, and hollows are innumerable,
and if the body had by chance slipped under one of
the thousand fragments of rock that are lying about,
this circumstance alone might be enough to hide it
from the eye of the most careful seeker. Long after,
perhaps some chance passer-by might stumble over a
few bleached bones, but no one would know whose
they were or aught of the dead man's story.
THE ALM HUTTE.
The case of the Tyrolian on the Plan Berg is by no
means a sohtary one of the kind. Occasionally, too,
the forester's wife will wait and watch in vain for her
husband's return. It is not long since that the body
of one of the assistant-foresters of Berchtesgaden was
found upon the mountain : it had been drawn aside
from the path and flung among the latschen, which
accounted for its not being found until several months
after he had been shot. The poacher was evidently
hidden from view, and had allowed him to come along
the path within a yard or two of the muzzle of his
rifle ; for the dead man's clothes were still black and
singed where the ball had entered. It had passed
through the middle of his chest.
In about two hours we arrived at the hut. It
stood on a pleasant pasturage, and facing it rose the
mountains partly covered with forest, while on one
side a high rock jutted abruptly up into the sky.
Behind was a gentle wooded slope ; thither we now
went, and looked toward the mountain opposite us.
We examined every part with the naked eye and
with our glasses, but not a creature was to be seen.
We watched for more than an hour ; and then turning
toward the rock that rose above the vaUey presently
saw a chamois grazing, now visible and now disappear-
ing among the herbage. Shortly after we discovered
another nearer the summit ; and having watched them
for a long time, as it was getting cold and dusk, we
went toward om- hut.
" We won't disturb them," said Maxl, " for today
126 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
we could do nothing, and they will be there tomor-
row for certain : we shall then be able to get at them
better, and may make sure of a shot."
The hut where we intended to take up our lodging
for the night was, thus late in the season (October 15),
of course deserted. The cows had gone down into
the valley, and with them the blithe dairy-maids. But
when they leave their summer abode the door is not
locked ; a latch only keeps it from being blown open
by the wind ; so that the hunter, should he be over-
taken by night or by a storm, can enter there and
find a comfortable shelter. We went up the steps,
lifted the latch, and entered. Nothing could be neater
than the room : it was as clean and nicely arranged as
if prepared for a visitor. On one side was a raised
hearth of stone, about two feet and a half from the
ground : it was large, and necessarily so, for there in
summer-time, in a huge copper vessel suspended over
the fire by a sort of crane fixed in the wall, the pre-
parations for cheese-making are carried on. The wall
above the hearth was neatly white-washed, as well as
the stones round the hearth itself. Above it was a
pile of dry thin laths for lighting a fire, and in one
comer a goodly stack of logs for fuel. On a shelf near
were some lucifer-matches and a horn spoon; and
there was a simple broom, fan-shaped and made of
heather, left as a hint for the sojourner there, before
he left, to make all as tidy as he had found it. Max
went down a few steps in one corner of the room into
the cellar, having first lighted one of the long pieces
[UTTE. 127
of resinous wood to serve as a flambeau. Below were
the utensils used by the little household during their
residence on the mountain, — all bright and clean, and
arranged in perfect order : large brown pans for the
milk, and smaller ones too, ranged beside each other
like the plates over a kitchen dresser ; wooden bowls
and pails, all of which had been well scoured be-
fore being stored away for the winter. We brought
up such things as we wanted, — some pans to make
our schnarren, and a pail to fetch fresh water in.
Three other huts stood on the meadow beside the one
in which we were, and a rivulet ran gurgling through
the herbage and might be heard tumbling into a
rude basin of stones on the other side of a green hil-
lock. Thither Maxl now went to fill the water-pail.
Had he been alone he would hardly have gone even
thus far without taking his rifle. It is well to be pre-
pared for every risk, and in such situations one can
never be safe against a surprise. Should a poacher
also come to the hut to pass the night, and the fo-
rester be at that moment gone to the spring for water
to cook his supper, and his rifle left in the hut, not
only would he lose it, but being unarmed he would
be entirely at the other's mercy. As long as you have
a rifle in your hand, and a tree or a stone to stand be-
hind, the odds are as much in your favoiu* as in that
of your adversaries.
While my companion was gone to the spring, I
stood at the door of the hut and looked out upon the
scene before me. It was getting dark, and the out-
128 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
lines of the mountains opposite were already indistinct.
A cold gust came up from the valley, and in a mo-
ment after huge ghost-like forms swept by, followed
by others in long succession; grey trailing clouds
passed solemnly on over the meadow, and in a few
seconds the whole space between the mountains was
filled vnith thick mist. It is astonishing how quickly
the landscape is sometimes enveloped and shut out
from view. The meadow was hidden from sight, as
well as all else except the nearer hut, which loomed
through the vapoury gloom.
We were both glad to be so comfortably housed, and
bolting the door set about making a fire. It was pleasant
and cheering within, as soon as the blaze lighted up the
walls and roof, and the dry wood crackled and flung
round its sparks upon the hearth. Stowed away in a
secret place known only to himself, Solacher had a
frying-pan of his own in this hut ; for it seemed he
often made it his temporary home, as well when the
dairy-maids were gone into the vale as during their
summer sojourn here. The frying-pan was fetched,
and he at once set about the supper, each of us how-
ever having first taken a long draught at the freshly-
filled water-pail.
The riicksacks were opened, and their contents
brought forth. In Solacher's was the usual small bag
of flour and the wooden box with butter, which the
chamois-hunter always carries with him ; and out of
the midst of the flour two eggs came to light, which
he had put in that safe place for me, in order that the
THE ALM HUTTE. 129
schmarren might be light and delicate. Being an
epicure in his way, he had also taken care to have
a few apples with him, to make his own mess the
more savoury. I had some white bread, the remains
of a dried sausage, and a small bottle of rum. We
inspected our store, and I then blew the fire into
a blaze, while Maxl prepared the usual dish of the
hunter and mountaineer. It is made in this wise :
some of the flour was turned out into an earthen pan ;
a certain quantity of water and the yolk of one ^gg
was then added (the other being kept for tomorrow's
breakfast) ; and the whole having been well stirred,
water was poured in till it grew sufficiently thin. The
frying-pan, containing great lumps of butter, was now
put on the fire, and, when this boiled, the contents of
the pan were emptied into it. The cake was allowed
to get brown on one side, care being taken however
that it did not bum ; it was then turned, and with an
iron instrument the whole was chopped up into pieces
varying in size from a filbert to a small walnut. An
apple was sliced in, some more butter added, all well
stirred up together, and when every little piece was
nicely brown it was turned out smoking into the pan
ready to be eaten.
Sitting on the raised ledge, with our feet inside
and towards the hearth, we ate our supper, and well
pleased was Maxl at the praise I bestowed upon his
cookery. The schmarrfen was really excellent : to make
it well is said not to be so easy as it appears, and that
without due attention the cake becomes heavy and
K
130 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
dough-like. A slice of bread and a good draught of
water completed the repast. We had lighted one of
the long dry resinous strips of wood, and stuck it into
the wall to serve us as a lamp while supping ; but now,
while sitting over the embers, we from time to time
flung a dry chip or two upon them, and the flickering
flame they made threw around a sufficient light. The
shutters of the windows were well closed and fastened
on the inside, — a very necessary precaution, for should
a poacher chance to approach a hut whence he saw a
light gleaming through the crevices, it would be an
easy matter for him, as the forester was sitting over
his fire, to gratify revenge, and, stealing quietly to the
window, send a bullet through his heart. It is one
of the first things therefore on such occasions to see
that all is safe*.
As I sat there enjoying to the full all the comfort
of my situation, I could not but feel thankful to the
dairy-maids who had left the hut in so neat a state,
and enabled us so easily to satisfy our wants. 1
said as much to Maxl, but he did not seem to think
it called for any praise. " A fine thing indeed," ex-
claimed he, " if the wenches were to go away and not
leave all in order ! I should like to catch them doing
such a thing 1 A good rating they 'd get for their
* Not long before I was at Fischbachau one of the keepers was
sitting at table with bis wife and her little baby in her arms, when
a blunderbuss loaded with slugs was fired through the window into
the room. The wall opposite still had tke shot-marks scattered over
it. Luckily no one was hurt. And this summer (1851) one of the
foresters near Ratisbon had a gun fired into his room at night when
his family were aroimd him : this time too all escaped.
THE ALM HUTTE. 131
laziness. No, all must be cleaned up and put aside,
that one may know where to find what is wanted ; and
wood brought in and stacked, so that a fire may be
made directly. Suppose we had come here and found
nothing — no dry wood, no pans or hay — we should
not have spent a very comfortable evening, I think !"
I was amused at MaxFs looking on all this as
a right, which the chamois-hunter, as lord of the
creation, might duly claim. The fact is, the young
foresters when out on the mountains in summer con-
stantly repair to some particular hut for a warm meal
or a night's shelter. They are welcome guests, for
they bring with them mirth and news of the great
world and of what is going on in the dale. And al-
though perchance none of the lasses is the sweetheart
of the youth who is the most frequent visitor at the
hut, still the friendly intercourse of many a summer
and an interchange of little acts of kindness will cause
them to provide, with all a woman's thoughtfulness,
for the poor fellow's comfort when he comes to spend
a long solitary night there in autumn, and the hut is
quite deserted ; so before leaving the mountain pas-
turage they will set in order everything for the friend
and favourite, who is sure to visit it often when they
are gone.
There was a door in the room in which we were
sitting that led immediately into the cow-house, and
above it was the hay-loft. Over this door was written,
" Catharina Hess." I asked Solacher if that was the
name of the dairy-maid.
K 2
132 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
'' Yes," he said, " that is her name. She is the
prettiest girl on all the mountains round. Her sister
Lisl is a nice girl too ; such a pair you will not easily
match."
" 'Tis a pity they are not here now," I observed.
" Ay, if they were, what fun we would have 1 They
should sing and jodeln, and we would make the old
hut ring with our merriment."
But as they were not there, to cheer us with the
music of their laughter and their voices, we flung some
more wood on the fire, and tried to make the place
look bright with the ruddy blaze.
" If I had but something to boil water in, Solacher,
we might have a glass of grog," said I ; " and that
would warm us well before going to bed."
" Grog — what is that ? As to boiling some water,
that is easy enough ; we shall be sure to find some-
thing in the cellar." Taking a firebrand he went
below and brought up a couple of pipkins, in one of
which we set the water on the embers to boil ; into
the other I poured some rum, and having sugar with
me we soon had a hot and fragrant beverage.
"What is it?" asked Maxl, as he sipped at the
edge of the pipkin : " what capital stuff" ! Why, it 's
like wine, but it is too strong." And though it was
far from being anything like a norVester, I was
obliged to add much water before it suited his palate
— so unvitiated by strong drink was the taste of the
hardy and frugal mountaineer.
We talked about Baierisch Zell, Max Solacher's
THE ALM HUTTE. 133
home ; and he related to me how his father during the
war had received a shot through the lungs, " close to
the hill," said he, "which you passed in going there."
"But how did it happen?" I asked.
" Why, you see, he and seventy-five more went out
against five hundred Tyrolians, who had come with
carts to plunder the village. The men of Baierisch
Zell of course took care to get behind the trees and
rocks ; and being good shots each one brought down
his man. My father had already killed three, when
he himself was hit — perhaps he had shot even more,
but of those three he was certain."
" It was a pity he was wounded so soon, for, being
so cool and a good shot, he would have knocked over
a few more."
" I remember," he continued, " my father used in
particular to tell us of one man, an immense fellow,
who kept on loading and firing away like the devil.
He was a good shot, and almost all his balls told.
He was standing behind a pile of wood, quite pro-
tected. Well, my father marked him, and thought to
himself, ' I '11 soon stop you, my boy ! ' So he kept
his eye on him and waited ; and just as he leaned a
little forward to fire again, my father was too quick
for him ; in the same second his rifle cracked, and the
Tyrolian doubled up together, bent forward, and fell.
They were obHged to retreat, and had to use the carts
which they had brought to fetch plunder to carry oflP
their own dead."
" And your father recovered ?"
134 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" Oh yes, he hved a long time after that, quite well
and hearty."
" And how was it, Maxl, that your brother Henry
got wounded in the foot so badly ? "
" That the poachers did : those of Miesbach and
Schlier See are the worst ; they fire directly they see
a forester, no matter whether he attacks them or not.
It was near Schlier See that it happened. Henry
came suddenly upon five or six poachers, and imme-
diately called to them that he would stand aside and
let them pass, without attempting to stop them or to
fire. And so he did ; but one of them, when he got
near, fired and hit him in the ankle. He fell directly,
and the poachers went on and left him there. With
great difficulty he dragged himself to the nearest Senn
Hiitte, and the Sennerinnen bandaged his foot and he
was carried home."
" And what about Kreuth, is there much poaching
going on now?"
" It is not long ago that Ignace, the son of my old
uncle, he whom we met yesterday as we were coming
home, had an adventure with some of them. It was
just on the hill where you shot the kid. He was going
up the mountain and saw the footprints of several men
in the snow. He wondered who could have been there,
so he followed the track for some time, and presently
observed a fellow with a rifle in his hand, waiting and
watching for game. He drew nearer and looked well
at him, but still without knowing him. At last he
asked him what he was doing there, when up jumped
THE ALM HUTTE. 135
the man, crying out, *You rascal of a forester, lay down
your rifle, or I'll send a ball through your body.' "
"And did he?"
" Of course he did not," replied Max ; " Ignace is a
young fellow, only seventeen years old, but he sprang
behind a tree and levelled his rifle. The man ran oft',
and Ignace vows that, if he had not, he would have
shot him on the spot."
fc. And now we talked of old times, when game was
plentiful on the mountains, of the chamois that had
been shot, and by whom and where, and of those
matters which to some appear trifling, but which to
the hunter are full of interest. We chatted on so long
and earnestly that we let the fire get low, and our
faces looked almost spectral as the glowing embers
threw a faint light upon them. But we flung on
more wood, and soon fanned the heap into a cheerful
blaze,
p " Let us boil another pipkin-full of water, Maxl,"
said I ; " a little more of what you find so capital,
and then to bed."
He had still many a question to ask, for I had told
him about the herds of game in America, and it had
set his imagination on fire. How much he would
like to go there ! but then the water ! Water he did
not Hke, and he asked how long, in crossing, he would
have to be upon it.
"But what makes you dislike it?" I inquired.
" Once, you know, I was stationed at the Konigs
See, and in going over the lake in winter when
136 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
it was frozen I slipped through a hole. I came up
under the ice; but by a wonderful chance, after
going down a second time I rose at the hole again,
and my comrade pulled me out. Since then I have
quite a horror of the water. I should never have
left the Konigs See but for that : however as I had
often to go on the lake I asked to be stationed
elsewhere, for that dread of the water I never could
overcome."
"You would of course rather be there than at
Kreuth?" I asked.
"Certainly, much rather. There is no place like
Berchtesgaden — what mountains and difficult places !
And there too we used to have a right merry life, so
many gentlemen came to shoot. Once," he continued
laughing, " something curious happened to me, but
though I was sadly disappointed at the time it amuses
me now when I think of it."
" What was it, Maxl ? let us hear the story."
" WeU," said he, " a certain Baron von C * * *
came from Munich for some shooting. I don't know
who he was, but he was sent with a recommendation
from some one at court to the head-forester. I was
to go with him. The day before we went out, he
told me that if he missed the first chamois he would
give me a hundred florins !"
" If he hit it, you mean," said I, interrupting him.
" No, no, if he missed, he said, I was to have a
hundred florins, and if he hit he would give me ten : I
was astonished, and asked if he was in earnest. 'Oh
THE ALM HUTTE. 137
yes,' he answered, 'quite so : if I miss the first shot,
a hundred florins are yours.' Well, I thought, it is
strange enough, — but a hundred florins ! that 's a sum
worth having ; and I began considering how I could
manage to make him miss the first time he fired.
All night I lay awake thinking the matter over, but I
could not hit upon any plan whatever. Next day I
was going up the mountain to show him his stand
before the drive began, when down below us in a gully
I saw some chamois. That 's just right, thought I ;
now then for the hundred florins. So I told him to
wait there, while I went on to drive the chamois, to
enable him to have a shot at them. When 1 got to
the head of the ravine there lay a great piece of rock
that I could hardly move ; but by leaning my back
against the block I at last succeeded, and over I sent
it into the gully below. You may think what a noise
it made ! Down it dashed, tearing and crashing, and
leaping from rock to rock, into the very midst of the
chamois. They were Mghtened out of their senses,
and off they went as fast as they could bound. This
was just what I wanted, for I knew that my gentleman
was so hot he would fire directly he saw them, whether
far or near. And I was right ; bang ! went his rifle
not a second after. Now, thought I, the hundred
florins are safe ; he has missed for certain. When I
got back to him I asked if he had hit or missed. He
had not missed, he thought. This however we would
ascertain on coming back, for to stop then was not
possible, as we should have reached the stand only
138 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
after the drive had begun. I was very pleased all the
time, being sure he had not hit him. On our way
down I went to look after the chamois; and sure
enough, there he lay, quite dead. The Baron gave me
the ten florins as he had promised, but the hundred
which I had calculated on having I did not get."
Our cheerful fire, the warm beverage, and the merry
stories we had to tell each other, made the long even-
ing pass away quickly enough.
" It is a pity the maids have left no cheese here,"
said Max, who, like myself, was getting hungry again;
*' they would if I had told them. They would leave
anything if they thought it would be of service —
cheese, salt, in short whatever I choose to ask for."
There was something very pleasing in these little
acts of kindness, — this thoughtfulness of another's
wants, when there should be no one to minister to
them but himself. But indeed there is much good-
heartedness in these people; and I never left the moun-
tains and my trusty friends the foresters, to move
again among the conventional forms of town society,
without a regret for their many gracious services, ren-
dered always with the best of all politeness — that of
a willing heart.
" Now, Maxl, it is time for bed ; empty the pipkin,
and then let us turn into the hay. But we will first
see how the weather looks." And I opened the door
of the hut. Without was darkness as profound as
that which must have weighed upon the world when
all was yet chaos : not a star was in the sky. I never
THE ALM HUTTE.
139
yet looked upon such darkness : before and around me
was one mass of gloom. The gurgling of the rivulet
was heard as it crossed the meadow ; a low moaning
wind moved among the rocks. I shut the door quickly,
and Maxl, as my chamberlain, kindling a piece of pine,
prepared to light me to bed. Having bolted the door,
my companion gave me my rifle. " It is better to
take it with you," said he; "one can't tell what may
happen ; and at all events it is safer than to leave it
down here." I scrambled into the loft, whilst Max
held up the flaming brand at arm's length that I
might see to arrange my bed. The bright red flame
flung a wild glare over my strange chamber; the
beams of the roof that were nearest caught the light,
and the bed of hay where I stood was illumined by
the blaze. But further back were shadows huddled
together in deep impenetrable corners, as if they had
all fled there on the approach of the lurid light. Max
now joined me, and with our rifles beside us, and
bmied in the fragrant hay, we soon feU asleep.
140
CHAPTER XI.
AN UNLUCKY DAY.
If not accustomed to such things, you find it rather
strange on awaking in the night to hear — ahnost to
feel, so near it is to you — the continued patter of the
rain-drops on the shingle roof not many inches above
your cheek. As I turned in my warm bed, and wound
myself still deeper into the dense fragrant mass that
composed it, I heard the gentle falling of the rain
just above my face, and grumbling inwardly at the
unfavourable morrow it foretokened, again fell fast
asleep.
I should have been much better pleased had it
come down in a good shower, ratthng on the shingles
as though about to shake them all to pieces, instead
of that dull, monotonous, sluggish drizzle, which
might continue any number of hours. The moment
of half- waking consciousness was just long enough for
the discontented thought.
When I next woke it was at the sound of the quar-
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 141
ters which Solacher's repeater was chiming beside
me. Five and three-quarters — it 's time to be off ! So
kicking away the heap of hay with which each of us
was so comfortably covered, we crept down into the
hut. Unbolting the door, to let in the Kght, we put
all in order, replaced everything as we had found it,
and sweeping the floor made the place as neat as it
was on our arrival the night before. It had ceased
raining, but the sky and mountain-tops wore signs of
no good promise.
We went to the rock where the two chamois had
been the preceding evening. At the moment of
reaching the summit the chamois sprang away in
front of us, stopped at a distance, whistled, and then
were off" again. They had winded us as we were
coming up, and had retreated before the apprehended
danger long before we could approach them. It was
an unfortunate beginning, for we had looked on those
two chamois as our own. " It 's all my fault," said
Max, vexed and angry ; "I never was here yet but I
stalked up the other side; and last night, as I lay
thinking it over, I made up my mind to go the same
way as before, and yet I took the opposite one. I
don't know why I did so ; I never went on that side
before. If we had gone more to the right we should
have got above them, and had a shot for certain.
Himmi! Bonnerwetter ! Ber Teujl!" he exclaimed, as
he stopped a moment and reflected on the matter, and
on the chance which had been thrown away.
Below us thick mists were rolling, so that it was
142 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
impossible to see anything. Presently however a sun-
beam fell here and there on the peaks of the distant
mountains ; and, as a sweet smiling face has the power
of dissipating tears or sulkiness, anon the whole snowy
range was glowing in the morning light. The fog
dispersed, the sky became blue, and all looked bright
and cheerful. We walked on, and came to the brow
of a hill from which we could overlook a large space,
partly bare and partly covered with low stunted shrubs.
It was a long while before we saw anything, but at
last Max perceived five chamois at a distance browsing
among the latschen. He pointed out to me the spot,
and exactly described where I was to look for them ;
but in spite of all his explanations and my endeavours
to find them I was unable to make out one of the dark
specks which he said were chamois. We now went
after them, keeping just below and on the opposite
side of the ridge, and advancing far beyond the place
where they stood, came round upon them in front.
On our way we fell in with a solitary chamois.
"Is it one of them, think you?" I whispered to
Solacher.
"I think not," he answered; and luckily we suc-
ceeded in passing without his disturbing the others.
There is nothing more vexatious, when stalking, than
to come thus suddenly upon some single animal,
causing it to start off and alarm the very buck or
red- deer that you might have got within reach of in a
moment or two more. But this time no harm was
done. Solacher went first, creeping along on tiptoe
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 143
over the grass, with his hat off and his neck stretched
out to catch a ghmpse of the game we were approach-
ing. Quickly lowering his head, and bending to-
gether as if to make himself invisible, while his whole
body was alive with excitement, he motioned me to
advance. I crept forward : the chamois were already
on the watch, and gazing, somewhat alarmed, towards
the place where we were hidden. Another step, and
I was before them : they bounded off, but I selected
one, and as it moved away I fired. Maxl looked at
me, first in astonishment, and then with an expression
of dissatisfaction.
"Why, what's the matter with your rifle?" he
asked : " the powder must be damp, or you have not
the full charge : it hardly made any report at all."
I was as surprised as he. It had indeed made
hardly more noise than a pop-gun, instead of the usual
roar that caused the hills to reverberate.
" I don't know the reason," said I, greatly vexed at
the mishap, and not a little angry at his displeasure :
" such a thing never happened to me before."
"If you go on so you won't shoot much," said
Maxl, growing more and more angry at the misad-
venture, and evidently longing, had he dared, to give
me a good scolding for what he conceived was owing
to my carelessness. "Why, the bullet did not go a
quarter of the distance to the chamois : I would lay
a wager it fell not a dozen yards from where we are.
You cannot have had half enough powder, or your
rifle would never have gone off in such a manner."
144 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
And with his usually merry face overcast he walked
on in silence.
After having missed a shot a change comes over
everything. You are no longer light-hearted as you
were before, when expectation made you buoyant;
you feel discontented with yourself, and, enacting in
your mind the whole occurrence over again, wonder
how it could possibly have turned out so unfortu-
nately. You are not only dissatisfied with yourself,
but dissatisfied with all about you. Nothing gives you
pleasure; you care for nothing: one single thought
alone occupies you, and that is, " If I could only have
one more shot at him ! he should not escape a second
time." And all those things that at other times are
looked at with delight now afford you none : you
hardly cast a glance at the barrier of snow yonder high
up in the sky; the sunshine does not gladden you;
and in a sort of desperation you seek comfort by
looking at and following the track of the game you
have just missed. I do not see much sense in this,
though I have often done it, and have hung over the
footsteps in the soft earth or in the snow, and examined
the size and depth of the impression, as though by
so doing I could conjm^e up the animal and bring it
back again.
It was now too late in the morning for any chance
of a successful stalk; we therefore returned to the
hut and cooked some schmarren for breakfast. As
we sat over the fire with the dish between us, eating
our meal in silence, I could not but think how great
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 145
the contrast between the present moment and the
cheerful evening of yesterday : then how merry we
were ! now both were dissatisfied and spoke little.
We swept up the hearth and went on our way.
In the afternoon we tried our luck once more.
Going along the skirt of a wood, we saw a chamois
among the trees : strangely enough he had not per-
ceived us, though we came suddenly upon hun. We
kept behind the trunk of a large pine, and watched
his movements. There was much thick underwood
where he stood, and as he changed his. position he was
continually hidden by the stem of some intervening
tree. Now he advanced, now retreated; for a mo-
ment he disappeared, and again his head alone was
visible. One or the other of us made a slight move-
ment ; the creature heard it and looked round : he
gazed for a second, then gave a sharp whistle, and
dashed away into the thicket. I fired as he turned,
and the sudden movement saved him, for he escaped
imtouched.
On our way homewards we came to a ridge that
overlooked the broad side of the mountain. It was
a most desolate scene : the wood had been cleared
away, and felled trees were lying scattered in all di-
rections, just as they had fallen where the axe of the
woodcutter had laid them low, and the stumps that
remained in the ground were sticking out on every
side. The surface was broken, and torn up by rain,
and by the great stems which had been dragged down-
wards. A log-hut some few feet high might be seen
L
146 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
a long way off: it rather added to the dreariness and
melancholy, for there was no sign of life in or near
that human habitation. Not a sound was heard;
nothing stirred above the whole surface of that sad
place. The grey of evening spread over the sky ; the
very atmosphere wore the same monotonous dull hue.
It was oppressively still and very dreary ; and I was
glad, after long looking round in vain to catch sight
of some living thing, when Maxl proposed to descend
into the valley.
" Schlier See must lie yonder," said I, pointing
northward; "it must be somewhere in that direc-
tion."
" Yes," said Max, " it is not very far off. A pretty
set they are there ! the poachers of Schlier See and
of Hundham, near Fischbachau, are the most daring
of any : they would as soon shoot a forester as look
at him. And how the rascals served Probst once !
You know Probst, don't you? he is a capital sports-
man, and as courageous as a lion. Did I never tell
you what happened to him near Schlier See?"
"No, what was it?"
" Why, one day he was on the mountain, — it was
on the Wilder Fell Alp, — and as he was looking
about for chamois he saw two men with rifles, also on
the look-out for game : they were not far off, and pre-
sently they went into a hut. He waited for a long
time, till he knew they had made a fire, and would
be busy cooking : it was perhaps three or four hours
before he saw smoke rising from the roof, but as soon
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 147
as he did down he went. He knocked open the door,
and called to the men to come out and lay down
their rifles ; but no one stirred, — all was still. Probst
then rushed into the hut, and, seizing the first fellow
he saw, caught him by the throat ; at the same mo-
ment the other poachers came upon him from behind
and pulled him down backwards ; they then beat him
unmercifully, took away his rifle, watch, and hat, and,
binding his hands and feet together, left him there on
the ground. The Sennerinnen were all gone down
into the valley, so he might have lain there long enough
before any one came near the hut, and have died of
hunger and cold. Well, after lying there all that
night and the next day, and after trying all he could
to get loose, at last on the second day towards even-
ing he was able to free his hands, and with his teeth
to undo the cords that bound them, and. Weak, stiff*
and exhausted, he set off homewards. It was late at
night when he reached his cottage ; but, ill as he was
for a long time afterwards, he thought himself very
lucky to have escaped with his life."
It is hardly possible to conceive a more terrible
situation : the prospect of death, the solitude of the
mountain, the pains of hunger and cold during the
long dreary night, as he lay bound hand and foot, the
thoughts of home, and many other thoughts, — it must
indeed have been a state of mental agony. It seems
to me that the possibility of being saved, poor as the
chance was, — for who was likely to pass over the
mountain? — must have added to his torment. The
L 2
k.
148 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
constant expectation, the hope from hour to hour, still
unrealized and yet clung to with desperate tenacity,
— all this, I think, was calculated to make his suffer-
ings greater than if there had been no hope. With
what intense longing, with what an acute sense, must
he have listened for a sound ! And through the
night, as he lay looking up to the stars, how must he
have yearned for the morning, and have been solaced
when at last he saw it stealing upwards over the
sky*!
But although the poachers always took signal ven-
geance on the gamekeepers whenever they got them
into their power, on one occasion they refrained from
ill-treatment; it is true, however, in this case the
person whom they met was not a forester : it was the
young Count D * * *, then quite a youth, and who,
being passionately fond of the chase, was always out
on the mountains, sometimes with the foresters, some-
times alone. He had one day given a rendezvous to
Max Solacher, and was already on the mountain near
the place of meeting, when he heard a shot. He
fancied it was Max, who on his way had fired at a
vulture or some bird, and took no notice of the cir-
cumstance. Soon after he went toward a spot where
he thought he might find Max, and coming to a
kind of " saddle" in the mountain, looked over. His
dog had been for some minutes very restless, and
thinking it was game he had scented, he reproved
him silently by a sign with his hand. But in peering
* Probst has since married Maxl's eldest sister.
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 149
below, instead of chamois lie saw a hat, and then
another and another : several poachers were there,
close beneath him, making their arrangements for the
day's operations. He was so near that it is a wonder
they did not see his face. Behind him all was bare,
with only a single latschen where he might conceal
himself. He slid back as noiselessly as possible ; and
when some yards away from the ridge he cocked his
rifle, and passing through a ravine went up the side
of a mountain opposite. Here he was quite exposed
to their view, and they might easily have seen him,
which indeed was the very thing he wished ; for he
knew that if they perceived him they would be sure
to watch his movements, and wait to see in what
direction he went before setting off themselves, and
he hoped in the meantime Solacher might come.
He went slowly up the path, sitting down occa-
sionally, as if wholly unconscious of their neighbour-
hood. It seems however they did not observe him.
The young Count then made a circuit, and reached a
spot among some rocks, whence he could see the men
as they came up out of the hollow. The path they
would then have to take crossed an open piece of
ground, with hardly a bush upon it, so that they
would be quite exposed, whilst he was sheltered by
the blocks of stone. Presently he saw their heads
appearing, and soon after they came on, one behind
the other. He had meanwhile double-shotted his
gun, and was now in the act of raising his rifle and
calling to the foremost to lay down his weapon, when
I
150 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
a voice from the latschen cried out, " Drop your rifle,
you fellow of a Count, or it will be the worse for you !"
Quick as Hghtning the other men turned round on
hearing these words, and every muzzle was pointed to
the spot where the youth was hidden. He of course
did as he was bidden ; and the men, not without plenty
of abuse, went cautiously on their way, one of them
always keeping ready to fire in case he should move
or attempt to send a bullet after them.
It was evident that the man behind the latschen
must have been there already when the Count took
his station among the rocks, having been stationed
as sentinel in case of alarm. The poachers knew the
youth, which accounts for their letting him escape so
easily : had Max Solacher been in his place, he would
hardly have lived to tell the tale.
The men had not been long out of sight when the
Count heard a shot ; he imagined it was from MaxFs
rifle, and that, on coming up, he had met the poachers
and killed one.
But he was mistaken : Solacher, as he went along,
had merely fired at some animal below him. Hardly
had he done so when six men, the same mentioned
above, rushed out of a hut on an Aim lower down,
and looked about scared and astonished. But they
could not discover whence the shot proceeded, and
this bewildered them all the more. In order to be
safe from a surprise they went to the middle of a
large bare spot, without shelter of any kind, where
grew a solitary tree, and beneatli this they seated
AN UNLUCKY DAY. 151
themselves. Here they knew they were secure, as
no one would approach thus unprotected within shot,
and the surrounding rocks were too far off for a
gamekeeper, if lurking there, to do them any harm.
So they waited till it grew dark, and Maxl all the
time lay above watching them. At dusk he stole
away, and hastened off to a path where he thought
they would pass on their way down to the valley.
From the spot where he had been watching them
were two paths only which it was possible for them
to take; there was no other way of getting down
the mountain. He chose the one which he thought
the most probable, and waited in silence beside the
path, well concealed, intending when they came to
fire both barrels into the midst of them. He staid
until eleven, when he heard at a distance the sound
of their voices, by which he knew they had taken the
other path.
Evening was closing in, and we hastened our steps.
The light bounding motion of Solacher as he sprang
down the mountain was really admirable. Over all
the inequalities, stones, holes, or stumps of trees, he
leaped like a roe : leaning on his long pole he jumped
over everything that came in his way, or swung him-
self down where the broken ground caused a sudden
fall in the descent; no chamois could leap more
lightly. He would stop every now and then, and look
round to see if I was near, and then bound forwards,
and again stand and wait ; for I was tired and lagged
behhid, which I was not wont to do. But after such
152 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
a day as this had been, and when you have missed
one or two shots, the hmbs seem to have lost their
usual elasticity, and you plod along more wearily than
at another time, when the fatigue has been twice as
great, but the sport and shooting good. The path
was however so bad that it was not possible to go
very quickly ; it w^as dark too, which made it still less
easy. Sometimes the road was formed by the stems
of trees laid side by side, now rendered slippery by
water and long use. In one place, while going down-
hill, my foot slipped between the stems, one of which
crossed my shin about half-way between the ankle and
the knee. It was with no small difficulty I prevented
myself from falling forwards ; had I done so, the shin-
bone must inevitably have snapped. There is no end
to the mishaps one is exposed to in the mountains,
even under favourable circumstances ; hence the care
the hunter always takes to reach the valley while it is
light; for where the path is narrow, or the descent
precipitous, it would sometimes be an awkward thing
to be overtaken by the night.
Long before we reached the village it was quite
dark. The several foresters were at the inn that even-
ing, and there was laughing, music, and merriment ;
gay as it was, yet to me, somehow or other, the even-
ing before in the Senn Hiitte seemed much more
pleasant and cheerful, — the thing was, yesterday I had
not missed a chamois.
KobeU, in one of his poems, has well represented
this state of mind. He has taken a little incident of
153
everyday life, and made of it a complete picture. It
is a Teniers scene, if you will; but it is a genuine
Ltouch of Natui'e nevertheless.
Fixation.
Father 's so cross and grumpy,
He keeps on scold, scold, scold j
Just now lie beat poor Trouncer,
That is so good and old :
There 's nothing right, no nothing j
All in the house is wrong.
That Dobbin 's lame since Monday,
Sure that won't vex him long ;
The after-math 's aU in now,
So he may weU be spared.
What can then be the matter ?
To ask, if I but dared !
" He comes ! Be stiU, ye children !'
The children all keep close.
And still as mice, and wonder
What makes him so morose.
The old man cleaned his rifle,
Then shoved it as it lay ;
Lolled in the chimney comer.
And drove his dog away.
'T is very late already ;
At last he faUs asleep,
AVhen on tiptoe the youngest
Into the room does creep,
And whispers to the others,
" I 've found it out, good luck !
'T is not about old Dobbin,
He has missed a chamois buck !"
154
CHAPTEE XII.
THE EISS.
On arriving at Kreuth we heard that the King had
announced his intention of going out shooting there
in a few days. It was therefore useless to remain
any longer ; for, until the royal hunt had taken place,
all the assistant-foresters would be busy in making
preparations, and there would be none to accom-
pany me to the mountains. It may be asked, how
can such an event occupy so many persons for days
beforehand? In order to ensure a good day's sport,
the outlying game is collected as much as possible,
and made to move forwards into the neighbomrhood
where the royal party are to hunt. For this purpose
the young gamekeepers pass along the places where
the chamois have their haunts, and, by occasionally roll-
ing a stone down the crags into the grahen^ below,
* Grahen, Literally translated, " a ditch, or trcncli," but in the
higlilands it means the rifts in the rocks on the sides of a mountain,
and is used indiscriminately whether speaking of one that is five or
five hundred feet deep. Sometimes the deep ones are also called
*' Clam," as " Schwazbach Clam," etc.
THE RISS. 155
disturb the game and cause them to hold away for
ground more within reach of the approaching opera-
tions. This is not a task soon done, or easy of accom-
pHshment : from one mountain to another — though
when viewed from below they do not seem far apart —
is an intervening space which it may take a good half
day to get over.
On such occasions the foresters do not go down
into the valley at nightfall, but pass several days and
nights on the mountains. They must be on the watch
too for poachers, and see that none are about, scaring
the chamois and sending them scampering away from
their accustomed places ; for when disturbed the game
is off at once, and does not return again for several
days.
At Tegernsee an anticipated day's sport was frus-
trated in this manner. I was to have gone out on
the Peissenberg, where there was every chance of
being able to get a shot, when the foresters came in
with the intelligence that poachers had been there :
reports of their rifles had been heard in that direc-
tion, and it was vain therefore for me to think of
stalking with any prospect of success. Once before,
when the King had intended to shoot there, the same
thing occurred. The head-forester had sent some of
the under-gamekeepers to watch on the mountain,
with orders to remain out till the appointed day: on
account of the lawless state of the country at that
time (1849), he sent a gendarme to accompany them,
thinking that the presence of a police-officer would
156 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
overawe the marauders, should any be met with. As
might have been foretold, he was wrong in his calcu-
lation ; for the power which such an individual exer-
cises is a moral one, quite independent of his con-
stable's staff, or, as in the present instance, of his
bayonet and side-arms. Obedience to him is ceded
out of respect to the law, which happened just at that
time to be as devoid of dignity as power. Even in
the plain the laws had ceased to be respected ; it was
something to excite a smile therefore thus to see
stationed, high up on the mountain-top, out of the
world as it were, and in presence of wild nature only,
where courage and physical strength alone availed
anything, one '' dressed in a little brief authority,"
expecting to curb rough and reckless natures. While
on the look-out the gamekeepers and gendarme were
surprised by thirty poachers, each armed with a rifle,
who at once ordered them to descend and leave
them to drive the game according to their pleasure.
Where the numbers presented such odds, opposition
would have been ridiculous; the foresters and their
companion therefore had no alternative but to return
home, and announce that the intended hunt must be
postponed.
These grand hunts in the mountains are very inter-
esting, on account of the immense quantity and variety
of game that is often seen, besides the opportunities
afforded of observing the habits and movements of the
various animals when influenced by fear, surprise, or
bewilderment. At early morning the keepers and
I
I
THE RISS. 157
their scouts are at the appointed places on the moun-
tains, and at a certain time — at the hour when it is
calculated the several sportsmen have reached their
stations — they are all on the move. Here and there a
stone is let drop ; further on a young mountaineer will
pass along the perpendicular descent, holding on by
the trusty latschen, in order to drive out the chamois,
and also to reach a spot inaccessible in any other
»way
On such a day perilous places are passed. Each
one takes an interest in the work, anxious that the
day's sport should be satisfactory ; and as the chamois
love to lurk in the wildest retreats, and nooks guarded
by precipices, if the men do their work well they are
sm*e to be led along some dangerous passes. None
of course is willing to lag behind or avoid the peril,
but, trusting to his steady foot and unreeling brain,
each dares whatever may come in his way. Thus led
on by an adventurous feeling, a hunt of this kind
hardly ever passes without an accident of some sort
happening to the men employed. Occasionally too
the mists w^ill rise suddenly, and spread their impene-
trable covering over the whole mountain range. They
lie upon the air like a solid thing, and then to move
even is indeed perilous : a single step, and the beater
may tread, not on the firm ground, but on yielding
cloud, and toppling over go sinking through an ocean
of vapom' to the craggy bottom.
About such matters I heard much from my guide
as we walked on towards the Riss ; for as soon as I
158 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
found there was nothing more to be done at Kreuth,
I packed a few things in my rucksack, and driving
to Glass Hiitten, took thence a bye-path leading
into the valley of the Isar. The peasant who accom-
panied me was an intelligent fellow, and knew many
a story about those merry times when the mountains
were fuller of game than now. And Prince Lowen-
stein ! how often had he been out with him when he
hunted there, and what sport ■ they had had ! He
talked about the gentlemen who used to join the
shooting parties, and was pleased to find that I knew
most of them. He had, it seems, been employed
as beater, and knew the mountains well, and every
Wand and difficult place. And still he kept on re-
counting about the past, as one does who has a yearn-
ing after remembered joys ; at moments cheerily and
with bursts of pleasure, and then wdth somewhat of
sadness in thinking that such days would never come
again.
I was all the while admiring his nimbleness, as he
sped on before me over the broken ground. There
was an elasticity of step and an evenness in his pace
that never varied up hill or down, across the stony bed
of a torrent or over the smooth sward. He wore the
usual short leathern breeches, and as I looked at his
red-brown legs I well understood how, in former times,
the English gave the name they did to their north-
ern neighbours as a distinctive appellation ; and this
led me to think how in Scotland the whole country
used to be roused by just such messengers as he who
THE RISS.
was now dashing along before me, — a fellow with the
least possible clothing, with little flesh, but tendons
like whipcord, who knew the passes and short-cuts
over the mountains, and could breast the steepest
without stopping ' to take breath. I now compre-
hended how in an incredibly short space of time all
the fighting men might be called together, — how
k
Each valley, each sequestered glen,
Mustered its little horde of men," —
when messengers swift of foot were thus sent out to
spread the alarm in every direction, causing district
after district to burst into a blaze ; as though the burn-
ing brand that was borne along and passed from one
fleet runner to the other had the power to fire men's
hearts and to kindle enthusiasm. Indeed it was
Malise himself who was before me, hastening on with
the words of Roderick still ringing in his ears :
"The muster-place be Lanric Mead —
Instant the time — speed, Mahse, speed*!"
We presently came upon the high road, and were
at once at the Fall. A large house, singularly neat
and clean-looking, with cow-house and barn adjoining,
all indicative of substantial prosperity, is the dwelling
of an imder-forester. He was out when we arrived,
which I regretted, for I had heard much of a deed of
his that gave proof of his resolute intrepidity : it was
as follows.
One evening, rather late, Reitsch happened to look
* The Lady of the Lake : The Gathering.
160 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
out-of-doors to see what weather it was ; and as he
cast his eye round toward the mountains, what should
he espy but a Ught high up in the direction of some
Ahu Hiitten ? It was dark, and he could not see the
huts, but he knew exactly where they stood. The
Sennerinnen had come down to the valley some weeks
before, and, as none of the under-gamekeepers were
out that evening, he was sure the light could only
be caused by poachers who were making their fire.
Reitsch was not long determining what to do. Taking
with him one of his assistants who happened to be at
home, they started off for the mountain : there was a
path all the way up, so that, although it was night,
they reached it easily; besides they knew the road
well, and had a lantern with them. On arriving at
the hut, they waited till all was quiet ; no more smoke
rose from the roof, by which they knew that the fire
was out and the men had lain down to sleep. They
still waited, when presently Reitsch with a large stone
dashed open the door, and both rushed in together.
Startled and confused, and waking up suddenly out of
their first sleep, for a moment the poachers did not
know what to do, but directly after they instinctively
reached out their hands for the rifles hanging near.
In their flurry they could not get their weapons off*
the pegs ; nor did Reitsch and his companion give
them much time to do so, but charging down upon
the band with the muzzles of their guns, they soon
overpowered them. They seized their rifles directly,
and the men surrendered, for unarmed thev could do
THE RISS. 161
nothing. There were three of them,. and they begged
hard to be released, making the most solemn promises
for their future good behaviour ; but it was in vain :
the next morning at daybreak Reitsch marched his
prisoners down to the head-forester's house.
Such events as these give a zest to the Jager's life :
they afford him the highest excitement, and he pre-
fers, I am sure, a moderate number of poachers to
having none at all. Would a sailor so love a sea-life
were there no danger of tempest and wreck? It is
the perils of the deep that work the charm. It was
the saying of a young gamekeeper — one whom the
poachers had not spared, for he had been so beaten
by them that he was nearly killed — ''Without poachers
a Jager's life were nothing !"
In going along we met one of the keepers, who
wished us good-day as he passed ; my companion told
me that a few years ago this man had shot a poacher
whom he met on the mountain, adding, "The ball
struck him in the very middle of his forehead." He
spoke of the circumstance as though it were a target
at which his comrade had aimed.
From the Fall to the Vorder Riss the character
of the scenery is profound sadness. At last the road
leads through a pine- wood — almost black, so dark its
colour; when suddenly in the distance are signs of
human habitation, of care and culture, and in another
moment the house of the head-forester appears.
Opposite rise the Karwendel mountains, where the
Isar has its source, and on the right the summit of
I
162 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the Zug Spitz is seen. It is a lonely spot, but the
snowy peaks impart grandeur to all within sight of
them, and in their sharp outline there is no monotony.
Nor does the desolateness of the high mountains im-
part melancholy, it is in keeping with the wildness;
the vastness of the forms around fills the mind, their
grandeur however does not overwhelm, but elevates
it, and leaves no room for anything like fear or sad-
ness. One feeling only you are unable to escape — it
creeps upon and holds you like an inevitable fate, and
you cannot shake it off, — a sense of the awful stillness
amidst which you are.
As the forester was not at home, nothing could be
decided upon. I looked about me and chatted with
the under-gamekeepers, one of whom had just brought
home the good chamois I saw hanging on the paling at
my arrival ; among them too was a Solacher, brother
of my friend Max and of the girls at Baierisch Zell, so
with him I made special acquaintance.
"You must have a good depth of snow here in
winter," I observed : " there is not much chance of
getting out except with snow-shoes, I suppose."
" No, indeed," was the answer : "I have myself
seen the snow thus high," pointing to a finger-post
which was much taller than himself. "And you know
in the Hinter Riss, if any one dies in winter, the
peasants cannot even get out to bury the body."
"What do they do then?"
" They lay the corpse up in the loft under the roof,
and it freezes as hard as a rock and remains quite
THE RISS. 163
unchanged. When the thaw comes it is carried to the
churchyard and buried."
And there were antlers to be looked at, of stags
shot that season, — the last indeed but the day before,
— and questions enough to ask about the game, and
the places where the stags were most plentiful. Here,
as everywhere, the game had been greatly thinned ; but
chamois were still in the mountains, and on the cold
mornings during the rutting season the low hoarse
bellowing of the stags might be heard reverberating
across the valley.
The right of chase here had belonged until lately
to His Serene Highness Prince Leiningen, and nothing
could be in finer order than this whole forest while
in his hands : all was done not only with princely
munificence, but mth skill and even taste, and the
arrangements were admirably adapted for a thorough
enjoyment of the chase. Up the steep wooded sides
of the mountains narrow zigzag paths were cut in
various directions, to enable the stalkers to move along
more stealthily when looking out for the stag. On
the different mountains snug hunting-lodges were
built, where the Prince and his friends would stay for
weeks together in the shooting season, thus avoiding
the fatigue of descending to the valley when each
day's sport was ended : from these lodges to the valley
a mule-path was made, by which each morning fresh
provisions were brought up. With his usual liberality
he would allow a party to take up their abode and
stalk on one mountain, while he remained on another
M 2
I
164 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
opposite, and in an evening the result of the day's
sport was telegraphed across. The house facing the
forester's was also built by His Highness ; but a year
or two ago the chase, which is Crown property, was
claimed by the present King, and the Prince has been
obliged to give up his favourite hunting-grounds, which
he had put into this perfect state, and maintained with
such liberal expenditure.
The road hence leads on to the Hinter Riss, lying
in the Tyrolese territory. The Scharfreuter, upwards
of 7000 feet high, forms here the barrier which divides
the Tyrol from Bavaria; and beyond this again the
Grabenkahr lifts its massy shoulders 9000 feet from
where you stand. In the Hinter Riss all is wilder ;
the mountains are less wooded and more craggy ; the
dark green of the pines gives way to the grey of the
rocks, and sharper Hues and more abrupt forms are
seen against the sky.
On the morrow the forester returned, and he was
kind enough to propose that I should go out the
same afternoon, and try if I could see a chamois
towards sunset, when they emerge into the more open
places. At three o'clock therefore I and Xavier So-
lacher started. We crossed the Isar, and were at once
on the Grass Berg, which rises immediately over the
river. Though steep, the narrow pathway cut in the
side made the ascent easy enough ; and as we looked
upwards, or cast a glance almost straight down on the
boisterous torrent, the value of that little path was felt
at once : similar ones were to be found crossing and
THE RISS. 165
diverging from each other on all sides, leading to the
ledge of rocks or to some sheltered nook, which could
not otherwise have been approached noiselessly.
Above us occasionally rose masses of bare rock, and
at their base was often such a green plot of herbage
as the chamois love to resort to at evening. Once we
came to a gully in the mountain-side, whence rose a
confused hum of waters, and a better place for a cha-
mois could hardly be found. Xavier told me he usually
met one there, yet now we scanned every part in vain.
We were nearing a turn in the path ; Xavier was
a step or two in front. I heard something move on
one side of me, and a little in advance of where we
stood. In order that the slightest sound might not
be heard, I stretched out my pole to touch Xavier on
the shoulder, that he might stop, or at least move care-
fully ; but he rounded the corner without being aware
that I had heard something. Hardly had he done so
when he started back, and bending down, pointed to
the spot whence I had heard the gentle rustling, while
I quickly moved forwards to get a shot. A two-year-
old buck was standing on the edge of the steep, but
before I could level my rifle he was dashing downward
among the bushes, to pass over to the opposite side.
At once I saw three together ; for a moment one stood
at gaze, and at the same instant I fired.
B " You have hit him !" cried Xavier : " he dropped at
once : now then, let us go and fetch him." So climbing
down the ravine across which I fired (called Speien
Kas in Korst Graben), and up the other side, we found
I
166 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the chamois hanging by his bent horns to a branch
traihng near the ground. We cleaned him, the carrion
crows croaking above us, and then turned homewards.
" I wonder you did not hear the chamois, Xavier,"
I said, as we went down the hill. " It is a pity you
did not, for then we might have had the two-year-old
instead ; not that it much matters though."
" I don't hear as well as I did," he answered. " I
was at the great festival at Munich this year, and shot
in the shooting match : the thousands of shots that
were fired have almost deafened me; and though I
now hear better, I have still a buzzing in my ears."
"Did you get a prize?"
" I believe I shall, but it is not settled yet. Most
likely the second. Out of two hundred shots eight
only missed the bull's eye, and of these five were fired
at the running stag*."
" But, Xavier, if you don't get a prize with such
practice as that, who could possibly hope for one ?"
" Oh, there were many who shot better than I did.
The first prize my brother Joseph will perhaps get."
I inquired about the game he had shot, and he told
me that last year thirty-six stags had fallen to his rifle.
This will give an idea of the abundance of game that
* This is a figure of a stag made of wood, and put on wheels run-
ning in a groove ; on the shoulder is a target, with a red heart painted
on it. At 125 yards from the spot where you stand are green bushes.
The stag is drawn back out of sight, and at a given signal he runs
by, and in crossing the open space between the bushes the target is
fired at. As the animal moves along it has quite the effect of a real
stag passing through the forest.
THE RISS. 167
formerly was on the mountains. He added, that one
morning, when out early, he had counted seventy-
five red-deer and a hundred and fifty chamois as he
went along ; once at Tegernsee he had seen a hun-
dred and seventy-five chamois together ; and the ave-
rage number of warrantable stags shot in each district
every season was twenty-four.
The quantity in other parts must have been im-
mense. A friend of mine, who was lately on a visit
to Prince Lamberg in Styria, told me what the Prince
himself related to him : that since the revolution not
less than ten thousand head of game have, according
to his computation, been stolen from his domain, con-
sisting of red- deer, chamois, and roe-deer. To the
English reader this seems hardly credible, but from
the number known to have been there formerly, and
what are now left, it is certainly not an over-estimate*.
These are exciting stories for the sportsman; they
stir up all his latent longings, and something very
like envy creeps into his heart as he listens to them.
I have always thought how natural it is that the Indian
should furnish his heaven with the rarest hunting-
grounds.
The forester came out to meet us as we approached
the house : he had heard my shot, and was curious
to know the result. That evening we had a consult a-
* To give a proof that it is not so, I may state that the keepers
found every year eight hundred pair of antlers which the stags had
shed. As the number not found is always considerable, some notion
may be formed, from this circumstance alone, of the quantity of red-
deer which must have been there.
168 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
tion about the proceedings of the morrow, and it was
agreed I should try my luck on the Krammets Berg,
as the surest place of meeting chamois.
" Yonder," said he, pointing toward the mountains
in front of the house, — ''yonder, below the ridge, are
broad bare places where in a morning you are almost
sure of seeing something. Should nothing be there,"
he continued, speaking to Solacher, '' then stalk up to
the ridge, and so on to the Clam. In this way you will
have chances enough, for chamois are always about."
The Krammets Berg was the best mountain of all,
and I was very grateful to the forester for his kind-
ness in allowing me a day's sport there.
169
CHAPTEE XIII.
A DAY'S SPORT ON THE KRAMMETS BERG.
By half-past three the next morning I was downstairs,
and while breakfasting, Solacher was busy with his
frying-pan cooking the usual meal of schmarren. We
were soon off. The stars were shining brightly, yet
as we passed along the pine- wood I rather followed
my companion by the sound of his voice and his foot-
steps than by the aid of sight. By the time we got
to the foot of the Krammets Berg however the dark-
ness was waning, and one by one the stars disappeared.
The strange faint dimness, similar to that which hovers
over the earth during an eclipse, began to spread ;
the gloom roUed back, and presently red tongues of
brightness announced that day was at hand. The
Zug Spitz first saw its coming, and flushed in growing
refulgence over the still night-bound world. As the
day streamed down its sides, the mists and vapours
receded, and the mountain-tops came forth, rising
from out the cloudy ocean below us as from the midst
170 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
of the waters on the third day of creation. Soon the
whole chain of the Tyrohan Alps was uncovered, and
lay beaming before us in the first glad flush of the
morning.
Above us, in our more immediate neighboiirhood,
the forms of things now grew more distinct. It was
no wild spot nor much broken : here and there the
latschen trailed along, sometimes in dense clumps and
sometimes singly. In looking to the left amongst
fragments of rock we saw a splendid buck : he was
leisurely nibbling the buds of the green branches he
found there, quite unconscious of our presence. Be-
tween us and him was a broad deep fissure, and all
the intervening space was bare, so that to get near
him unobserved was almost impossible. While look-
ing at his fair proportions, and wishing that it were
practicable to get even a long shot at him, he put an
end to our hopes and speculations, by moving slowly
away. Before doing so he turned his head in the di-
rection where we stood, and lifting it high in the air
gazed for a moment, and directly after was among
the latschen. We saw him again at intervals, as
he bore away to the opposite side of the mountain.
It was very tantalizing, for it was a chance if we
should see so good a buck that day. The older bucks
are generally alone : they keep too in solitary nooks
and inaccessible places ; and if at early morning they
are with the herd, they leave it betimes to stray and
feed alone.
"Look! there are chamois!" said Xavier, pointing
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 171
to the crest of the mountain a considerable distance
to the right of where we were ascending. "Don't
you see them? — ^yonder, right up against the sky.'*
On the ridge were several black forms moving
about, — now vanishing, then re-appearing. As we
got higher we saw them quite distinctly even without
the glass ; and it was a pretty sight to watch them as
they disported themselves, leaping and bounding over
the ground. When a stag is thus seen in bold rehef
against the blue background no sight can be grander :
his majestic form appears of a portentous size, and as
he tosses his antlers in the air they seem to shake
the sky.
" We must keep away to the left, or they wiU see
us," said Xavier. " There are many together, and no
doubt more are lower down, although we don't see
them from here : those above will soon be moving
downwards. It is lucky we were off in such good
time this morning ; this is just the right moment for
them."
" There will hardly be a buck among them, I fear :
you can't make one out, can you?"
" No, as yet those I see are aU does ; but there may
be one perhaps lower down among the latschen."
We now kept to the left, and passed over the
shoulder of the hill, so that our heads might not be
seen by them as we ascended in a line parallel with
the spot where they stood. The latschen through
which we crept were thick, and it was difficult to get
along. Once on the ridge, we still remained on the
172 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
other side, and so advanced, just keeping our heads
below the sky-Hne. To do this is often not easy ; for
on the face of a mountain the northern and southern
sides are not only quite different, but the change
begins from the very crest; on one side the surface
being smooth and grassy, and on the other an abrupt
and precipitous descent, with a ledge perhaps so narrow
as scarcely to afford a footing. This ledge too is not
fiat, but steeply sloping ; and if snow be lying on it,
the difficulty and danger are pretty nearly on a par.
On we went, hardly daring to raise our heads, lest
the chamois, which we knew must now be near, should
see and be startled by our forms. Suddenly Xavier,
who was a step or two in advance, dropped to the
earth : I knew what that meant, quite as well as when,
a second afterwards, he said, " There they are !" point-
ing to a deep rent or gash in the mountain's side. This
yawning chasm, or clam, as such are called*, began
just below the summit of the mountain, leaving the
ridge unscathed. In this clam three chamois were
feeding : they had not yet perceived us. I cocked
my rifle and stole forwards, while Xavier watched
behind. They were moving along one of those nar-
row ledges, on the face of the rock formed by the
projecting strata, and as I advanced some acute sense
told them danger was near, for they lifted their heads
and listened. One began to retreat ; I fired, and saw
the ball had told. The others sprang forward, but
a second shot brought another to a stand. Neither
* The name of this one was the llothl Clam, on the Stahl Joch.
A DAYS SPORT ON THE KRAMMETS BERG. 173
fell at once, but both were disabled : each one went
some distance along a ledge of rocks, choosing, as
they always do when wounded, the most inaccessible
places.
I wanted to go down along the edge of the clam
and, firing across it, finish at once the two womided
animals ; but this Xavier opposed.
ft " No," said he, " leave them for awhile : it is much
better. They are both in a bad condition, and by
leaving them undisturbed they will get much worse.
They won't go away from the spot, and perhaps pre-
sently we shall find them dead. If you go after
them now, they will make every effort to get off, and
ft as we have no dog with us it might not be an easy
matter to track them through the latschen."
^" By getting down yonder," I replied, " I might
certainly be able to have a shot and finish them at
once ; true it is far, but I would sit down to take a
steady aim. As to hitting them, I am quite sure
about that."
■ "'Tis further than you think," he replied; "be-
■ sides if we leave them at once we can go after the
others. These three are not those we saw first."
"But they will have heard the shots, and are no
doubt off by this time."
K " No, they won't have heard them, for they are
over the shoulder of the mountain, and lower down.
Now then, let us go."
I confess 1 did not like Xavier's plan, for it was
most painful to me to leave the chamois there, both
174 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
badly wounded, to suffer until we came back. I ho-
nestly avow I am not one of those excessively humane
persons who find cruelty in the chase. To send a ball
through a stag or roebuck, and so take his life at once,
does not give me a pang, for I do not deem it cruel ;
although whenever I stand beside an animal whose
life I have just taken, a sudden emotion within always
keeps me silent. The taking life, the destroying that
which only God can give, seems a so daring deed;
and, contradictory as it may appear for a hunter to
say so, my first feeling, as I look at the heap before
me, which but now was such a thing for wonder, is to
be astounded at what my hand has done.
For be it remembered that it is not in hilling his
quarry that the hunter's delight consists, but in the
excitement of the pursuit, in the varying chances, in
the " hope deferred," and above all in that crowning
moment when whispering to himself, "Now he is
mine!" Then is the real climax : in that short exqui-
site second before the death — before quite all has been
obtained, — when the prize, the reward of all your toil
and risk, is surely won, but not yet possessed, — that
is the moment of the highest joy. You fire, — ^he falls,
and you are well pleased ; but the sensation is tame
compared to the subtle, quivering intensity of what
you felt before.
No true lover of the chase can he be, who estimates
his pleasure only by the number he has killed : ' The
Noble Arte ' teaches another lesson.
Few things are more painful to the sportsman than
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 175
when, by some mischance or want of skill, he causes
an animal unnecessary suffering. Unfortunately the
fcrery circumstance I am always so anxious to avoid
was afterwards to happen with one of these chamois ;
the saddest to witness that ever occurred to me in my
hunting experiences.
f Giving way to my companion I left the clam, and
going along the ridge above it, we crept softly down
k^he mountain-side, so as to get on a line level with the
spot where the chamois were standing. The latschen
were scattered about everywhere pretty thickly ; and
it was as difficult to get through the stubborn branches
without their rustling or rebounding, as it was to see
the chamois, even when within shot of them. At last
we reached a spot where we could look upon a glade,
as it were, among the bushes ; and here they passed
or paused a moment or two as they chased each other:
it was a merry company. We lay flat on the ground,
with our chins in a bush, and watched them.
" I don't see a buck, do you, Xavier ?" said I.
■ " No, I hardly think there is one. It is almost
too late now. But a doe is there," he continued,
with his eye still to his glass, " with curious horns :
one is upright and the other grows forwards straight
out of her forehead. Look," pointing with his glass,
"don't you see that one to the right, half standing
on a fragment of rock ? — that is the one. It is a long
shot, but you would hit it."
I looked and saw the curious growth, and wished
to possess the trophy. But then too I longed for a
176 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
buck — to get a fair shot at a buck — and still I hoped
there might be one among the herd, and that I might
see him before he made for the latschen. Thus was
I divided in my intentions ; and hesitation, whether
in stalking or in the affairs of life, is sure to lead to
no desirable result. While half-resolving to make
sure of the fine doe before me, the whole herd began
to move. They must have got wind of us, for, gazing
round, they were all out of sight in a moment. We went
upwards again, and along the side of the mountain.
"Hush!" cried Xavier, "there's a chamois quite
alone."
"Where? Is it a buck?"
" Yes, but make haste — it has heard us."
" Here, your rifle!" said I, holding out my hand to
take his, the sights of which were very much finer
than mine ; and as the chamois was far off", — a hun-
dred and eighty yards for certain, — I in this case pre-
ferred his to my own.
"Does it shoot high?" I asked, sitting down and
resting my left elbow on my knee to take a steadier aim.
" No, where you aim there the bullet strikes ; but
hold it a little forward, for the wind is now coming
up from below."
" As I have it now, the ball would graze his breast,"
I said, about to fire.
" That 's right : you will hit him in the middle of
the shoulder."
Bang ! went the rifle. " He has got the ball for
certain, no shot could go off" better."
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 177
" You have not touched him," said Xavier, who had
been watching the result through his glass : " the ball
passed just before his shoulder : I saw it strike the
bank behind him/'
" Confound it, that 's the effect of allowing for the
wind ! But for that I must have hit in the best place.
Nothing on earth can fire truer than your rifle."
" Yes, I know it ; but being so far, and as the wind
is coming up from the valley, I thought it safer to
make an allowance for the draught."
There was no use in being imtated ; besides Xavier
was so good-tempered and willing a fellow, that it
would have been difficult for me to have continued
angry long, had I been inclined. We kept along the
ridge until we came to a descent : here we sat down
to reconnoitre, and with our glasses examined the
ground below. We soon espied a buck, as usual
alone : he kept on the move for some time, always
holding a downward course, and at last, to our great
joy, lay down among some scattered latschen.
"Now then, Xavier, will you try for him?"
" Of course I will : he is certainly a good way off,
and the ground is bad enough for stalking, but it is
worth a trial at all events."
P We noted well where the chamois lay, for though
we could see the spot plainly from our eminence, we
should soon lose sight of it on getting lower. It was
to the left of a stony channel that the water had torn
in the side of the mountain ; this therefore, and a
pine about two hundred yards further off, were taken
N
178 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
as landmarks. One more look, to be quite sure of
the point to be gained, and we went down the steep.
Broken as the surface was, I could not but think how
admirably we both crept along. Not a stone rolled ;
at each step the heavy-nailed sole came upon the
ground like a paw of velvet ; neither of us made use
of his pole, lest it might clink against the rock and
cause a sound. Not once did we slip; and when
the ground was so uneven that we had to step lower
than usual, each steadied himself with his hand, and
then the descending foot was dropped gently to the
ground. A woman's step in a sick chamber is not
more lovingly gentle than was that of us two iron-
shod male creatures.
We halted. Xavier made signs that he thought the
buck must be yonder. Here were the stones the water
had washed down, and there stood the tree. True,
the place appeared quite different now to what it did
from above, but still on looking round we felt sure
this was the spot. We moved towards the latschen,
and peered downwards into the space below, but no
buck was there : he must have gone away as we
were coming down. As a proof that we had not dis-
turbed him, but had done our work most cautiously,
two does were lying not far off, just below us on a
patch of green : had the buck been disturbed by us,
he would, in dashing off, surely have caused them to
move away too.
" Well, Xavier, now for the clam ! How far may
it be from here?"
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 179
" It will take us two good hours to get there : we
have come a great way down, you see, and the clam
is on the ridge."
" Is there no water near here?"
" Not a drop : do you want to drink ?"
" Yes, my mouth is as dry as these stones. Shall
we find no spring as we go along?"
" No, the only spring is down yonder. It is not
very near, but if you like I will run and fetch you
some."
"No, no," said I, "let us go upwards; we have
no time to lose."
The day was fine and the sun shining, but the
heat, though oppressive in getting up the steep,
would have been nothing if I could only have as-
suaged my thirst, which became almost intolerable.
There was however no help for it but to go on ; some
hours more and we might perhaps be able to obtain
drink.
" How far is it now?" I asked, breaking silence, for
T had been chary of my breath and was choking.
" We have an hoiu*'s walk still," answered Xavier ;
and we went on again in silence.
Just before we reached the clam I stumbled on a
puddle. The water, which was dirty enough, had col-
lected in a hole in the mud about as large as both my
hands.
"Ah, there's water!" I exclaimed, about to stoop
and take a draught.
" You surely will not drink that^ said Xavier, in a
N 2
180 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
tone and with a look that seemed to say I was going
to commit an abomination. His manner was such
that I confess to the weakness of not doing as I wished
and drinking of the pool.
Thirst is one of the severest trials to which the
hunter in the mountains is exposed. To hunger
he may get accustomed — as indeed he generally is
obliged — but thirst loill be assuaged, that must be
satisfied. Meat is the worst thing he can take with
him, for it increases his drouth to an unbearable de-
gree. Schmarren is found so admirable, not only
from the facility with which the ingredients can be
carried and the meal prepared, but also on account
of its being very nourishing and not exciting thirst.
The fatter the food the better ; a roll with the crumb
scooped out and a lump of butter put in its place, is
as good a thing as any to take in your riicksack.
At last we reached the clam. We saw one of the
chamois only on a projecting rock, beyond which it
could not go. I determined now to do what I had
before wished — to get on a line with the animal and
give it one last shot. With this intention I there-
fore crept down along the edge of the clam, keeping
myself as much hidden by the latschen as possible, in
order not to cause the chamois to move. On coming
nearer I saw that Xavier was right ; it was really
further across than I had thought. However the cha-
mois must be had, and the only way to get the animal
was to despatch it first. To climb further being im-
possible, I sat down where I was ; and having been
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 181
pleased with the precision of Xavier's rifle, I told him
to give it me again, promising that this time the cha-
mois should drop dead on the spot.
" Mind, 'tis down-hill," he said, " therefore aim low.
Besides there is a strong current of wind coming up
the clam, and it is well to allow for that."
In the last remark there was, I thought, some
truth; for the rent in the movmtain-side was as a
funnel for the wind, which at this hour of the day
would of course be from the valley upwards. So J
took a deliberate aim just below the shoulder, at the
top of the right fore-leg: according to my calcula-
tion the bullet should have lodged in the very best
spot on the shoulder.
" You have broken his fore-leg, — high up close to
the body!" said Xavier, who was watching for the
shot through his glass.
I was so vexed that I could have hurled the rifle
into the depth below me; not that it had failed in
its duty, for nothing could have surpassed it in pre-
cision, having struck the animal on the exact spot at
which I aimed, but that I should be prolonging the
creature's sufferings — this was what incensed me ; and
venting my anger on Xavier, who was in no way to
blame, I said, " This is the second time I have missed
by following your advice : had I done as I intended
both balls would have struck just as I wished."
The chamois had moved so as to be out of shot ; I
therefore told Xavier I would go into the clam, manage
to reach the chamois, and fetch it down.
182 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
''Stay here," he answered : "I will go across and
fetch it."
" No, I shall go ; but you can go too if you like,"
I replied.
" Indeed you had better stay," said Xavier ; " you
don't know what it is : if you get into the clam, you
will hardly come out again."
" Nonsense, Xavier ! why look you — first down
yonder ledge, and then to the rock. It is not very
easy, but it may be managed. And once in the clam,
we can climb up the other side somehow or other.
Now then, come ! I want to put an end to that poor
beast's suffering."
" You had better not go," said Xavier gravely, and
without moving a step : " you don't know what it is,
I assure you. None of the gentlemen who have been
out stalking here ever went in. Indeed you had better
not, — you cannot tell what it is till you are in it."
" Have you been there?" I asked.
" Yes, but it is an ugly place."
" Well then, come ;" and I cautiously moved to-
ward the spot I had before indicated, as the only
place where it was possible to get down into the
chasm. I saw that Xavier did not at all like the ex-
pedition, and felt uncomfortable — on my account, —
but he said nothing. At last we were in the bed of
the clam, and a wild spot it was, — much deeper too
than I had beheved, and wider ; and jagged rocks,
now that I stood beside them, were grown to twice
the size they had seemed before. There was no vcr-
day's sport on the krammets berg. 183
dure anywhere, — all was sharp, bleak, grey stone. It
was an uncomfortable feeling to look up at the blue
sky, and to feel yourself in an abyss of rock, with no
visible outlet by which to regain the living world;
for here was no vestige even of life. And what a
stillness 1
To get up the rocks where the chamois lay was
indeed not so easy as I thought. Though none of
them were high, some were almost perpendicular, and
every little projection sharp as a needle ; but, what
was worse than all, each piece of stone that might
have served to hold by, or as a support to rest the
foot on, crumbled away beneath a moderate pressure ;
so that if you placed your toe or the side of your
foot on such a little projection — ^hardly broader per-
haps than the face of your watch, but still sufficient,
if firm, to help you upwards — just when you thought
it might be trusted, and your whole weight leaned
upon the ledge, it would suddenly break like a dry
stick ; and if you happened to be some way up,
you came slipping down again, tearing your knees,
while your hands clutched at the sharp points to save
yourself from rolling to the bottom. To the bottom
however you were sure to go, and the less the dis-
tance it was off the better. Presently we got up
again, Xavier in advance, and soon after he was above
me on a narrow ledge, and sprang thence to another
small crag opposite.
The space to be cleared was nothing; but it required
great nicety in landing properly on the crag, and in
184 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
stopping the instant your feet rested on it, in order not
to go over tlie other side. This pinnacle of rock was
very narrow, and all below sharp and pointed. Xavier,
with his rifle well up behind his back, and the pole
in his right hand, was over in a second, and stood as
firm and upright on his lofty narrow footing as though
he had but stepped across. I doubted whether I could
manage the jump : the opposite side was where the
danger lay, for if I made the leap with only a little
too much impetus, I should not be able to stop my-
self, and over I must go.
" Is there no other way, Xavier, of reaching where
you now are, but by jumping over ?"
"No," said he, examining the place, "you cannot
cross except by jumping ; it is not wide."
"No, but the other side — that's the thing: it is
deep down, is it not ?"
"Why yes, rather deep; but come, you can do it."
" I feel I cannot, so will not try," I replied, and
began to look for some other way. The cleft itself,
across which Xavier sprang, was only about twelve or
fourteen feet deep ; I was at the bottom of it, and
while standing between the two rocks 1 thought I
might manage to climb upwards, with my back against
one wall and my feet or knees against the other, as a
sweep passes up a perpendicular flue, to which this
place had great resemblance. My heavy rifle incon-
venienced me, but still I contrived to ascend. I was
Hearing the top of my chimney, when the chamois,
seeing Xavier approach, leaped down into the chasm
BERG.
below, so that we both had our trouble for nothing.
Coming down the chimney, it not being narrow
enough, I found to be more difficult w^ork than get-
ting up.
The chamois was now some distance lower than
ourselves; before going after it therefore we looked
for the slot of the one that had made off. The traces
of blood on the rocks showed it had taken a direction
that led out of the clam. Higher up was a much
worse place than where we had just been.
" It is very difficult to get out yonder," said Xavier.
" The chamois has gone there, and has probably stolen
away among the latschen."
" Have you ever been out that way?"
" Yes, once," he answered : " I was up here one
day, so I thought I would see if there was a way out
or not ; *tis a terrible place, I assure you."
There was a broad, slanting surface of crumbling
rock where we now stood, like an immense table, one
end of which was Hfted very high. It seemed as if this
must lead out of the clam, or at least to a good height
up its side ; on this therefore I advanced cautiously.
The slope did not end on the ground, but about
twenty -five or thirty feet from it, and then fell abruptly
to the jagged rocks below. The plane was so inclined
that to walk there was hardly possible. Every now
and then the brittle surface would crack off : however,
difficult as it was, and in spite of a slip or two, I
managed to proceed. At last I was obliged to go on
all fom-s. Some minutes after I began to slip back-
186 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
ward. The stone crumbled away as it came in con-
tact with my thickly-nailed shoes, which I tried to
dig into the rock, and thus stop my descent. I strove
to seize on every little inequality, regardless of the
sharp edges; but as my fingers, bent convulsively
like talons, scraped the stone, it crumbled off as
though it had been baked clay, tearing the skin like
ribands from my fingers, and cutting into the flesh.
Having let go my pole, I heard it slipping down be-
hind me, its iron point clanging as it went ; and then
it flew over the ledge, bounding into the depth below :
in a moment I must follow it, for with all my endea-
vours I was unable to stop myself. I knew the brink
must be near, and expected each second to feel my
feet in the air. Xavier, who by some means or other
had got higher, looked round when he heard my stick
rebounding from the rocks, and saw my position. To
help was impossible, — ^indeed he might himself slip,
and in another moment come down upon me. He
looked and said nothing, awaiting the result of the
next second in silence.
I had made up my mind to go over the brink, and
thought all was lost, when suddenly one foot, as it
still kept trying to hold by something, was stopped by
a little inequaUty, arresting me in my descent. I was
very thankful, but still feared the piece of rock against
which my foot leaned might crumble like the rest, and
let me slip fui'ther. Hardly venturing to move, lest
the motion might break it off", I gently turned ray
head to see how near I was to the brink : my foot
1
i m
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"^iii 1 i"^m
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Gedr.iu JBMhrLS IitJiAnitdltMuiiclien.
.Lithv.EIolie.
A DAY S SPORT ON THE KRAMMETS BERG.
lad stopped not a couple of inches from the edge of
the rock, — but thus much further, and I should have
;one backwards over it. The depth of the fall was not
^enough to have killed me, but quite sufficient to break
a leg or arm and a rib or two. Slowly and with the
utmost caution I lifted my rifle higher behind my
back, and, hardly venturing even to do so, drew one
knee up and then the other, and again crawled for-
wards.
"Be careful," said Xavier, now for the first time
breaking silence, seeing the danger was past ; and he
went on.
He presently called to me not to come further, to
stand aside and look out for stones ; and directly after
one came leaping down and whizzing through the air.
I went toward a wall of rock that rose upright be-
side the inclined plane above referred to, and hardly
had I reached it when larger fragments of rock came
leaping by me into the chasm below : they passed
close before my face, and then for the first time I
comprehended the terrific force of such missiles, and
the havoc they are capable of causing in mountain
warfare. They were pieces of rock that Xavier had
detached in climbing upwards, and the impetus with
which they came whirling by made them bound back
with renewed force from every object in their way,
and shoot out far beyond the brink before they fell.
They then swept on, out of sight, while the clam re-
echoed with their rolling ; but deep and oppressive as
[was the stilhiess of that yawning place, the silence
188 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
thus broken had something discordant, something un-
earthly in it, and I was aknost glad when the sounds
died away in some distant hollow*.
At length I saw Xavier making his way back again.
The chamois was not to be seen. We followed its
traces some distance, first however binding up my
torn fingers, in order not to confound the drops of
blood falling from them with that of the chamois : we
saw that it had got out of the clam, and was doubt-
less among the latschen. Without a dog we could
then do nothing, for by this time the chamois had
probably ceased to bleed ; and to follow it by the slot
alone on the hard ground, crossed and recrossed by
that of others which had passed there lately, would
be impossible.
I forgot to say that, when slipping downwards, I
had, in order to stop my descent, convulsively clutched
at a piece of rock with my right hand, hoping to save
myself. It came away Hke the rest ; yet it caused a
momentary strain on my shoulder, and seemed to jerk
it out of the socket. For a second or two the arm
fell helpless. I had now time to examine the limb,
and finding I could lift my arm concluded all was
right, and trusted that the pain would cease by the
time we got home.
We now clambered down to the chamois : all was
so jagged and broken that there was not a place broad
enough to stand upon which was not sharp and cutting.
* The drawing facing this i^agc is not a sketch of the clam in
question, but there is much resemblance between the tv\o. — C. B.
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 189
At last however we reached hmi, and glad enough I
was to know the poor animal was put of suffering.
On looking round for a convenient spot whither we
might drag the chamois, in order to clean it before
putting it in the rucksack, I espied drops of water
dripping from a crevice. "Water! water! Xavier,"
I cried with as much dehght as when Cortes first be-
held the sea from a peak on Darien. A cup which
we had with us was quickly fixed so as to receive
the precious oozing fluid, and then, with the addition
of a little rum from my flask, what a delicious draught
did it afford !
" Here, Xavier, drink ! Was there ever such
water ! How icy cold, and clear ! " We sat down
and ate a crust of bread, while fresh drops were
welling into the cup, which we had propped up with
stones. How exquisite was our repast ! and how
strange all the features, deep down in that stony place,
telling of a power which made you feel a crushing
sense of helplessness 1
The water came out of the solid rock drop by drop
in a marvellous manner, as though Moses' rod had
touched the stone and made it yield us nourishment.
It was very like that ancient miracle ; indeed I have
many a time thought that miracles still often happen
to us, only our thankless hearts fail to recognize them.
How strong and quickened we felt by our meal ! and
Xavier relished the smack of rum in the cup of water
as much as his brother had done in the hut near
Kreuth over our evening fire.
190 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
"I will look after the chamois tomorrow, with the
dog," said Xavier: "there is no fear of om* losing
him, he is badly wounded, and is, I dare say, not
far off. But now we must think of going homeward,
for we have a long distance to walk and it soon gets
dark. Let me see, where is the best way out?" he
continued, examining the steep rock: "up yonder I
think we can manage it :" and lifting the chamois on
his back he at once set off. But to get up a smooth
rock with a dead weight of fifty pounds at your back
is not so easy ; holding my pole therefore for him to
step on, and disencumbering him of his rifle, which I
handed up to him afterwards, he mounted the rocks,
and we were soon out of the clam and on the green
mountain-side. Now then homewards !
In a few hours' time we saw the forester's house
among the trees, and as we came nearer — yes, surely
it was no delusion— green arches erected over the road
that led thither ; the doorway too was festively adorned
with green wreaths, and all looked gay enough. We
soon learned that the King had arrived; and the whole
house was in a bustle of preparation, getting the rooms
in order, preparing dinner, etc., etc. All were busied
sufficiently without having an extra visitor; so I deter-
mined to go on to the Fall that same night, and the
next morning walk to Hohenburg, a castle formerly
the residence of his highness Prince Leiningen, but
now belonging to a friend of mine. I therefore bade
Xavier promise he would not fail to look after the
chamois on the morrow, and, taking a glass of ale and
A day's sport on the krammets berg. 191
a mouthful of bread, once more slung rucksack and
rifle over my back and set off.
K There was no time to lose ; the evening was draw-
ing in apace, and I had several miles before me. It
was quite dark before I entered the warm room of
Reitsch's house. Although I had that day been on
foot for near seventeen hours, I cannot say I was
desperately tired, — such is the invigorating effect of
the mountain air.
192
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FALL. TO HOHENBUEG AND KREUTH.
Comfortably smoking his pipe, I found Reitsch sit-
ting over a tankard of ale with a companion. Without
asking his name I knew at once it must be Hohenadel.
Before starting for the mountains a friend had said
to me, "If you go to Glass Hiitten, mind you see
Hohenadel; he is an Ur-mensch'' — a primeval man.
And in truth many such are not be found. He is
very tall, broad-chested, sinewy-armed, and his mus-
cular legs seem as though they could support a world;
he certainly would stand more upright beneath the
load than Atlas is always represented as doing. And
yet, despite his height and evident strength, there is
nothing clumsy or even heavy in the appearance of
the man. His face wears a good-humoured expres-
sion, and gives the assurance that he is as peaceably
inclined as though he had no advantage over his fel-
lows. Woe betide him however whom he finds, rifle
in hand, encroaching on his domain ! Hohenadel is
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH. 19t
under- forester to his royal highness Prince Charles of
Bavaria, and has before now carried down from the
mountains a warrantable stag on his shoulders. Those
who know anything about such matters, the weight
of the animal, and the difficulty of stepping thus laden
down a rugged steep, will understand the arduous-
^less of the task. His knees trembled, it is true,
beneath the weight; he bore heavily on his staff,
and was obhged to rest from time to time ; but — he
brought it down, and alone.
As I sat over my supper, chatting with him about
the chase, I asked how many stags he had shot in his
life, and how many chamois.
^ " Oh," said he, " of stags I kept no account, but
chamois I know exactly;" and he named a number
which, no longer remembering it with exactness, I
would rather not indicate at all. I could not but
smile at the little estimation in which he held the
noble red-deer, when put in comparison with his fa-
vourite chamois.
"A chamois!" he continued, — "ah, that is a dif-
ferent thing altogether; there is nothing equal to a
chamois. I have heard a great talk of hunting wild
animals in America, and I don't know where be-
Bsides, but after all it can't be as fine sport as in our
mountains. For what creature is there like a cha-
mois ? As many as I have shot in my time, there 's
^no trouble, no risk that 1 should think too great to
Bget a shot at one. And what a pleasure it is to
■watch them!"
194 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
I intended to start early the next morning for
Hohenburg, and to spend a day or two there; and
Reitsch wanted me to return in about a fortnight,
kindly promising that if I did so I should shoot a
good buck.
" By that time the rutting season will have begun,
and the old bucks be on the move ; they will come
out of their lurking-places, and we shall be sure to
get a shot. Only come," he said, " and if you were
to shoot a good buck in my circuit I should be right
well pleased, — only come."
Tempting as the proposal was, I was obliged to
resist, having arranged to return to Kreuth, if any-
thing was to be done there, to go out again on the
mountains, and then to visit the worthy old forester
at Fischbachau. By daybreak the next morning I
set off, and in an hour or two reached Hohen-
burg, rising a little over the picturesque village
of Langgries. Never before, I think, did I so ap-
preciate the " creature comforts " of this life as now.
After the detestably bad inn at Kreuth, the broad,
lofty corridors, the large cheerful bed-room looking
out upon the lawn, the neat arrangements, the nicely
served breakfast, and the observant attendance, —
mindful of everything, forgetting nothing, — all was
so delicious a change, that it seemed to me as if
until that morning I had never understood what such
things were worth. How did all that I had hitherto
looked on as mere common comforts now appear
luxuries fit only for a Sardanapalus !
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH. 195
My Sybarite reflections were suddenly put a stop
to by observing, in the mirror opposite, a projection
on my right shoulder which was not on the left one,
and a nearer examination really showed that one of
the bones which met at the shoulder- joint was out
of its socket. It was this which had pained me so
when slipping down the rock in the Rothel Clam,
and the sudden helplessness of the arm was now
accounted for. Shortly after, being at Tegernsee,
where the Court then was, I availed myself of the
opportunity to show it to the Queen's physician,
whom I knew; little could be done however, and I
left it as it was.
After some pleasant days passed at Hohenburg, I
took a guide to show me the path through the
woods to Kreuth. It poured with rain during the
whole day.
" Just there," said my guide, a tall fellow who had
been a cuirassier, " a year or two ago I killed a good
stag. It was winter, and the snow lay very deep
everywhere. We were coming up early, as usual, to
bring the wood down into the valley, and saw him
stuck fast in a snow-drift which was over his haunches.
I got near him, and knocked him on the head with
ry hatchet."
" But you might have helped him out, which would
have been much better."
"He was half-frozen," he answered, "and quite
exhausted with struggling: he would not have got
over it if I had."
o 2
196 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" And what did you do with him ? Did you take
him to the forester?"
" No, we kept him ; we divided him between us
and took him home."
"What! you kept him!"
" Oh, at that time a stag was not so much thought
of as now. However it was the first and last time
I ever took one, though I might often have done
so. Yonder, you see," he continued, pointing to a
Httle decHvity, "was the place where they regularly
crossed from one wood to the other — one might have
had a shot there any morning ; and in passing the
hollow way as usual, that stag fell into the deepest
part and could not go further. In winter-time, up
here in the woods, 'tis hard work to get along, I
assure you."
"Have you much to do in the forest in winter?"
I asked.
" Yes," he said, " when there 's snow, and it is hard
enough to bear, we bring down the wood that we cut
in the preceding months, which it would be impos-
sible to do at any other time ; for there are no roads
up here, and the paths are so stony that no cart
could move over them. But as soon as we can make
a Bahn (a smooth hard surface on the snow) we load
the wood on sledges, and so bring it down the moun-
tain."
" 'Tis hard work, is it not? " I asked.
" Ay, and dangerous too," he said : " such a load
of wood is heavy, and on the smooth snow comes
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH. 197
down with a rush ; if you shp or fall, or cannot stop
yourself, and the sledge goes over your leg, it is
broken in a moment : some accidents are always hap-
pening."
*" But in summer it must be a right pleasant life,
but in the forest all day long, and living on the moun-
tain. You stay up there the whole week, do you not ?"
■ "Pleasant enough it is," he said, "but 'tis hard
work ; and in felling the trees, seldom a summer
passes without one or other of us being hurt — a foot
or an arm crushed by the stems as they fall, or some-
thing of the sort."
" And how are you paid? " I asked.
m " That depends : sometimes thirty-six, sometimes
forty-two kreutzers a-day*. But 'tis a long day
from four o'clock till dark. We begin at three, for
it is light then in summer ; and by the time we
reach our hut in the evening, what with the air and
the work, we are glad enough to cook our supper and
lie down to sleep."
" And you have nothing but your schmarren," I
said, — "schmarren and water?"
" Nothing but schmarren ; always schmarren and
good fresh water. If we had beer or anything else
but water we should not get on at all for thirst. On
ba Saturday night, when we come down to the valley,
and then on the Sunday, we drink a can of beer or
so, but the whole week through not a drop. But the
— water we get is capital."
198 CHAMOIS HUNTING,
" And on Sunday I suppose you have meat for
dinner."
" Meat ! " he exclaimed, quite astonished ; " why
none of us ever touches meat from one year's end
to another, except may-be at the village wake and at
Christmas."
" And how much fresh butter does a man want in
a week — five pounds?"
" Why yes, about five pounds I think ; that is as
much as would go into my wooden box, which I take
with me every Monday morning, and by Saturday
evening it is nearly or quite empty. For you see by
about six or seven o'clock in a morning we are glad
of our breakfast, so we make a fire and cook some
schmarren ; at eleven we have our dinner ; and then
about four we eat something again, and before we
go to bed the frying-pan is on the coals once more.
All that, you know, takes a good piece of butter every
day."
The huts which these woodcutters inhabit during
their summer stay on the mountain are log-huts of the
roughest construction. Such buildings are just high
enough to stand upright in, — indeed sometimes it is
not possible for a tall man to do so ; but this is not
necessary, for when in the hut they are either sitting
round the stone hearth in the centre of the dwelling,
cooking and eating their meal, or else lying down on
their bed of dry leaves and straw. As there is no
chimney in the roof, nor any opening beside the door
or window, all within becomes in time quite black.
TO HOHENBURG AND KRETJTH. * 199
as though the great logs were charred by the flame.
Yet in a storm, or at dusk, the sight of such a poor
place of shelter is greeted with a heartier welcome
than we ever bestowed on the most luxurious hotel :
its low door, as we push it open and see the cheering
blaze, seems then the portal of a palace.
P The food of these men, though seemingly insufii-
cient for the labour they have to endure, must afford
a great amount of nourishment : not only are they
strong and muscular, but their appearance is indica-
tive of perfect health, — a testimony not perhaps quite
valueless to the advocates of a vegetable diet.
Indeed I have long thought — and an interesting
and instructive article in the Edinburgh Review* has
confirmed my opinion — that there is a far greater de-
gree of nourishing matter, or, to speak more scienti-
fically, of the protein compounds, in bread and vegeta-
bles than has hitherto been generally believed. Were
this not the case, how would it be possible for the
poorer Bavarian peasant of the plain to endure such
an expenditure of strength as his labours demand ? It
is true he soon looks old, and becomes a poor withered
being, shrunken and shrivelled long before his time ;
but this arises as much from the constant exposure to
■every sort of weather in insufficient clothing, as from
the inadequate quantity of the food which he takes
to support life. Could he but have enough of the
same most excellent brown bread, of porridge and
soiu'-krout, and of his good Bavarian beer, his ap-
200 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
pearance would, no doubt, be very different. How-
ever the quantity of nutritive substance in his food
must be considerable, for him to suffice with so small
a modicum*. In the highlands of Bavaria the pea-
santry live better ; at all events they t&ke a much
greater quantity of simple food than the poorer hus-
bandmen of the plain, and of this food good butter
forms an essential part. To this sufficiency of food,
and to the circumstance that by their position they
are free from the toils of an agricultural life, may
be attributed their healthier look, more developed
growth, and their appearance of youth while still
young in years.
Above I have used the words "most excellent"
bread of Bavaria ; nor are they employed unad-
visedly, for indeed in no other country have I
eaten such bread : it is what we should call whole-
meal bread, and is a most palatable and noiu'ishing
food. Bread as delicately white as a French roll
is of course to be had, but the other sort, slightly
brown in colour, is the staple food of every house-
hold. As the Egyptians found no water so sweet
as that of the Nile, so do I always return to the
bread of Bavaria with an increased relish. Every
* Cabbage, when dried so as to bring it into a state in which
it can be compared with our other kinds of food (wheat, oats, beans,
etc.), is found to be richer in muscular matter than any other
crop we grow. Wheat contains only about twelve per cent., beans
twenty per cent., but cabbage contains from thirty to forty per cent,
of the so-called protein compounds. — Edinburgh Review, No. 182,
p. 366.
TO HOHENBURG AND KRETJTH. 201
Bavarian who goes to England, pleased as he may be
with all beside, greatly misses this one necessary. I
have not met a single person— -and I have seen many
lately whom the Exhibition took there — that did not
invariably remark, " If only your bread were better!"
or " How bad your bread is ! how we longed for some
of our own*!"
The dwellings in the mountainous parts of Bavaria
are also very different from those of the flat country :
they somewhat resemble the cottages of Switzerland,
and, in the same manner, harmonize remarkably with
the scenery amid which they are placed. So much
indeed is this the case, that for their particular style
of architecture the mountains seem a necessary back-
ground ; the two belong together : indeed the moun-
tains are here as necessary to complete their cha-
racter, as the landscape background is indispensable
to the figures in the Peter Martyr of Titian.
Put any other building of brick or stone in these
valleys, and the discord, so to speak, will be imme-
diately felt. As it is, the eye finds the gently-sloping
lines of the low roof — so low indeed that all its
surface is discernible — again repeated in the bolder
outlines rising up into the sky : there seems an af-
finity between them, and there is just enough con-
nection to make them component parts of a well-
ordered whole.
* At present (Dee. 1851) the six-pound loaf costs 24 kreutzers,
or 8d. English. In the Spring the price was so low as 4id., and for a
short time even it cost 11 kreutzers, or 3f c?.
202 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
The same feeling which guides a painter in the com-
position of his picture, which urges the removal of
uncongenial forms, which strives after unity by the
harmonious blending of the parts — an intuitive sense
of the beautiful, in short, which when put in action
becomes Art — this feeling it is, which, unconsciously
to himself, has guided the mountaineer in the con-
struction of his picturesque dwelling.
Unpretending, simple as they are, even with all their
rustic adornings, they never fail to be admired by the
stranger. The pleasing effect they produce on every
beholder arises, in no small degree, from their dis-
playing no disparity between end and means : on the
contrary, a sense of perfect purpose is experienced
as you look at them; both the forms and the con-
struction seem to have sprung naturally from the ma-
terial employed. And they did so : their arrangement
was dictated by the various wants and habits of the
peasant, and by the climate of the country ; their con-
struction was in accordance with the material used,
and adapted to the simple tools, mechanical contri-
vances, and particular architectural knowledge, which
the self-taught peasant had at his disposal in building
his dwelling. Growing up in this way, — taking a
form** according to the man's necessities, — not hiding,
but rather displaying, the homely material which
nature had provided for it, — -such a building could
not fail of being impressed with a decided character.
There is no endeavour to conceal the simple wood-
work, or to make it appear of some more valuable
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH. 203
stuff than it really is ; nor, above all, are forms or a
construction attempted, characteristic of, and legiti-
mately belonging to, some other material. The house
always looks what it is, the house of a peasant built of
wood, fetched perhaps from the neighbouring forest ;
nor does it pretend to be anything more,
pi With the ornamental part of these buildings it is
the same. Here "ornament" is no extraneous thing,
but belongs exclusively to, and springs naturally
from, this style of architecture. Hence the circum-
stance that these buildings have a peculiar and de-
cided expression, as much and exclusively their own
as that which marks the Greek, Moresque, or Pointed
style of architecture. The protruding beams naturally
suggest a rounding off into a more pleasing form ; in
the far-projecting water-spout is an opportunity for
carving some animal's head and throat ; and where the
converging lines of the gable meet, they are allowed
to run on, and crossing each other to present an
additional occasion for the introduction of some cha-
racteristic decoration.
Colouring too is often used ; the shutters of the
lower windows will be pranked with a bright centre-
piece, while the balcony and the carved design that
gives such a finish to the projecting gable, will wear
perhaps a more sober brown.
There is a great variety in these houses, yet every
ornament, however rude in execution, is always ap-
propriate to, and in hannony with, the dwelling it is
intended to adorn. The style of ornament too is
204 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
always dictated by the material in which it is to be
executed.
It is not a little remarkable that these houses are
constructed according to the most scientific rules.
Necessity has here proved an excellent teacher : the
parts are put together with a mechanical knowledge
which, as I have learned from an experienced archi-
tect, is not to be improved on. Within they are dry
and warm ; they have an air of comfort too, and in
passing one of them you think it must be pleasant
to dwell there, and snug and freundlich within ; and
even should you not see a bright winsome face at the
window, the forehead and brown braided hair shaded
by the brim of the green hat, with a golden tassel
pendent from it dancing in the sun, — still, without
such inducement, you feel that you would much hke
to enter there*.
My guide now pointed to a high peak on our
right : " A year or two ago," said he, " a peasant was
lost up there : he went out on the mountain, and
never came back."
"Out poaching, I suppose — eh?"
* Should the reader of these remarks be curious to know the cost
of such buildings, it is to be computed thus : one florin per square
foot contained in each story, and half as much for the construction
of the roof. Thus a cottage forty feet long by thirty broad, and one
story high, would cost as follows :— 40 x 30 = 1200 florins for the
groimd-floor : the same for the first story, 2400 florins ; which,
with 600 for the roof, makes 3000 florins, or £250 for the whole
building. For this sum it could be built with a certain finish and
with all the decoration usually found in such cottages. The founda-
tions are always of stone.
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH. 205
" Yes, he was out with his rifle, and alone. For
three whole days his friends — a band of them —
scoured the mountain in search of him, but could
find nothing. They knew he had gone there, be-
cause he said he intended doing so ; besides the last
time he had been seen alive was by a boy who met
him on the way ; but with all their trouble they dis-
covered nothing.
"And what did they think had become of him?" I
asked.
" Oh, no doubt he was shot, and the body hidden
somewhere. A mountain, to be sure, is a large thing ;
yet if he had slipped down anywhere, some trace of
him would surely have been found, for every part
was searched day after day, and I know not how
many there were out looking for him. They were
in a great rage, suspecting he had been shot ; and if
they could have had the slightest proof of this against
any of the gamekeepers, they would have taken a
terrible revenge."
At last we saw Kreuth below us while crossing
the oozy meadows on the hill-side ; and, soaking as
we both were, the smoke that crept lazily upwards
through the misty rain from the chimney of the inn
was a welcome and cheerful sight. I had a warm meal
set before my guide ; and as the days were now short,
and it was important he should reach home before it
grew dark, he soon set off" on his way back. My first
visit was to the forester's house, where I learned that
Max Solacher had shot a good stag the day before,
206 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and was now out on tlie mountain looking after
poachers. Shots had been heard, it seems, in the di-
rection where we had been lately, and Maxl was off at
once after the invaders. Woe betide him who comes
within reach of his rifle, and alone !
The stag was one of twelve, and had he been shot
earlier would have been a splendid prize. But now,
his lank shrunken sides made me doubly regret the
necessity of thus killing everything, whether in or out
of season.
On Monday it rained ; on Tuesday I went out again
with Max, but could not get a shot. It was afternoon,
and we were going slowly upwards, when close above
us we saw five men, each with a rifle at his back.
Down we dropped behind a block of stone, to watch
them. They were going along one behind the other
on a narrow path, and talking loudly.
"Do you know them?" I asked Max, who was ex-
amining them attentively.
" Three of them I know, but I cannot make out
who the two others are. Let us go on, and see what
they intend."
We proceeded accordingly, — at first, on account of
the unbroken surface of the ground, keeping below
and parallel with them, but afterwards following in
their very footsteps. Sometimes we waited to let them
pass on, and only when they were a considerable dis-
tance in advance did we rise up from behind a low
bush where we had been lying, and go after them
again. Once, on coming to a ridge, we lost sight of
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH.
them. Before us was a vast hollow, broken here and
there, and partly filled with high latschen. We sat
down, and peered around for them in vain. Yet they
liad passed there, for we distinctly made out their
trail upon the ground. Presently an unusual sound
rose on the air, and came floating up from the dark
hollow — it was their voices ; and we now saw them
going up the other side, where they all sat down, while
one took out a glass and examined the slopes above
which we were sitting.
" He is looking at us," said I to Solacher.
" No, he could not distinguish us where we are ;
besides the others are talking and laughing," he
continued, still looking through his glass, "and if
he had perceived us they would all be looking this
way."
When they moved we rose and followed, till at last
they stopped at a hut built on a clearing of the moun-
tain : just below them lay a tree, blown down by the
wind ; behind this we took up our position, so near
that we could almost hear what they said.
"I see!" said Maxl, "they intend stopping there
tonight, to be ready betimes tomorrow morning.
Ha, ha !" he exclaimed, "the door is locked and they
can't find the key." The men were evidently hunt-
ing for something in all directions. Some climbed
up and searched beneath the eaves, while another
felt in holes and corners where the missing object
was likely to be. At last it was found, and they all
iisappeared within the hut. Turning our heads by
208 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
chance, we saw a solitary chamois grazing on the
borders of the wood, beyond where the hut stood ; a
deep and broad sinking in the ground separated the
two slopes. We at once set off, and Max was already
chuckling at the thought of bringing down a head of
game close to the very quarters of the peasants.
The right of chase in that neighbourhood, Max
told me, belonged to the parish within which the men
dwelt ; there was however little doubt they would not
be very scrupulous about overstepping their boundary,
if a chance of getting something presented itself. We
stalked up the steep slope, keeping among the wood
as much as possible ; but when we looked for the
chamois, he was nowhere to be seen, — he had no
doubt heard the men, and was mistrustful of their
neighbourhood; indeed it was strange he had not
made off before.
From our covert we had a full view of the hut :
the men had cooked their supper, and came out and
sat under a tree to enjoy themselves ; one went and
fetched a pitcher of water, and set it down in the
midst of them. Maxl all this while was abusing them
between his teeth to his heart's content, and mutter-
ing all sorts of maledictions upon their heads. This
however was not so much for what he then saw, as on
account of what in imagination he saw them doing
on the morrow ; he knew very well that they would
not stand on much ceremony about boundary-hnes
and limits ; and even should they not shoot any of
his game, their very presence disturbed the chamois,
TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH,
md perhaps drove them over to the adjacent territory,
iiid once there they became lawful booty.
A constant warfare is unceasingly carried on be-
Jween these two classes of men ; their reciprocal hate
lever slumbers, any more than their ingenuity in de-
ising plans of vengeance against each other. Seven
years ago a keeper whose game had suffered consider-
ably from repeated depredations, and who had been
unable, in spite of all his endeavours, to overtake the
marauders, hit upon the following contrivance to work
them injury. He knew that when they were out on the
mountain they generally took shelter in a certain hut,
where they made a fire and cooked their meal. He
therefore procured a bomb, filled it with powder, and
buried it in the hearth a little way below the surface.
He hoped that by the time their schmarren was cooked,
and the men were sitting round the fire enjoying its
warmth, the glowing embers would have ignited the
combustible mass and caused it to explode : cowering
as he knew they would be round the blaze, he rightly
judged the effects would be tremendous. The forester
was disappointed however ; the men came and kindled
their fire as usual above the spot where the bomb was
hidden, but from some cause or other, from being too
deep perhaps, no explosion took place.
K " I '11 take good care they shall not get much here,
"at least," said Max ; and cocking his rifle, both barrels
thundered one after the other, and broke for some
minutes the quiet of the still evening scene. " If any
game is on my side of the mountain, it will be oflp now,"
p
I
210
CHAMOIS HUNTING.
said he ; " and if they want a chamois they must go
on their own ground. But look how astonished they
all are at hearing a shot so near them !" And then,
after waiting a few minutes to see what they would
do, we went leisurely downwards to the valley.
CHAPTER XV.
BAIEEISCH ZELL.
On leaving Kreuth I started once more for Fischbachau,
and it was with sincere pleasure I looked forward to
finding myself again the guest of the worthy forester.
I should also be glad to pay the Solachers a visit,
and tell them I had met their brother, to pass again
a pleasant evening in their comfortable dwelling, and
see once more that sweetest picture of maidenhood
the gentle and blushing Marie.
From Berger I heard that the chamois had re-ap-
peared; he had seen several during my absence, and
had besides tracked a good stag near the spot where
we had met the deer on the first day of our going out.
He felt sure we should be able to get a shot or two,
and this assurance made me all the more anxiously
long for the rain to cease and the weather to clear up.
But still it kept pouring down, and the whole of Satur-
day and Sunday not even a glimpse of blue sky was
to be obtained. On Monday afternoon all changed ;
p 2
212 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the thin vapoury mist which had filled the atmosphere
was swept away ; in the direction of the plain glimpses
of brightness were discernible, and soon the crests of
the mountains showed themselves with sharp outline
in the now clear air. All wore a cheerful aspect, and
buoyant with hope I set off for Baierisch Zell, intend-
ing to pass the night at the Solachers' cottage, in order
to be out betimes the following morning.
When thus setting out for the chase after a long
imprisonment, a delicious feeling of gladness, an elas-
ticity of heart and limb, possesses the whole being : it
is an exquisite sensation. Your nature feels the sweet
influences as much as the external nature around you.
The refreshing, softening rain, that has filled every
valley with a humming sound, makes your heart leap
like those rivulets ; the blue sky above you seems to
have pervaded your mind with its serene colouring,
just as it reflects itself in the glittering landscape, still
trembling with rain-drops, and sheds over it a peculiar
azure brightness. Expectation is rife, and as you chat
with your companion while stepping lightly along, plea-
santest thoughts rise with the hopeful excitement ; for
as to the chances which you feel sure are before you,
why you would not cede them for a kingdom. Every
trifle contributes to your delight : it is a pleasure
even to be so well shod, and to defy the water and the
pointed stones; you exult in your strength, and in
the feeling of independence which that, and a firm
heart, and your good rifle give you. The very obstacles
you meet on your path produce a pleasurable sense of
BAIERISCH ZELL. 213
>ower to overcome them. The smell of the moistened
earth, and the gum-like exhalations of the pine-forest,
are more grateful to you than all the odours of Araby
the Blest.
As we went along, I asked Berger about the elder
of the brothers Solacher, and how he was so badly
fcvounded by the poachers. I knew he had been dis-
abled by them, but all the attendant circumstances I
had never heard, or had forgotten them.
"That happened," said Berger, "about an hour's
walk from Schlier See. A great number of the fo-
resters had had a rendezvous, to watch for poachers.
I don't know how many there were, but from all the
neighbouring forests some came — from Tegemsee and
Baierisch Zell, Schlier See, Kreuth, and Fallep. There
were altogether fifteen Jager. They had already been
out three days, and it came on very bad weather,
*with pouring rain. It was useless staying out any
longer, so they separated to go home. The others
had gone some distance, when Joseph Solacher and
an assistant-forester who was with him heard a shot.
They both ran forwards as fast as they could to
where the report came from, and said, 'There are
those rascally Kranzberger boys* shooting again ! but
H^e have caught them now, and they shall repent it.'
The Kranzberger boys were two youths who lived in a
* In the mountains the word "boy" (" Bube," or in the dialect
" Bua,") does not always imply one in the age of boyhood, but is used
when speaking of young men generally, as Burns does the word
'• lads," which is equivalent to it.
214 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
hut not far off, and who, it was known, used whenever
an opportunity offered to carry on poaching in a small
way. Well, as I said, Joseph, and Bauer, who was
Avith him — you know Bauer, don't you ? a fine hand-
some young fellow as you would wish to see — he and
Joseph ran forward, and when they came to the brow
of the hill they heard some one loading a rifle, ram-
ming the ball into the barrel, and a moment after saw
before them, about eighty or ninety yards off, the two
fellows standing over a roe they had shot. It was a
little green spot, with a tree or two on it, and not too
far, — just a good shot from where Joseph stood. But
he did not want to fire at them ; he thought he would
take away their guns, and give the young fellows a
sound thrashing, and then send them about their bu-
siness. So, as I said, he did not fire, but went round,
to be able to get nearer before he sprang forward to
lay hold of them ; for by going round the little mound '
where they stood he could steal close up to them un-
perceived. They must have heard something how-
ever; for at the moment that Joseph showed himself
and was going towards them, one of the poachers —
for Joseph now saw it was not the boys, as he thought,
but two men — snatched up his rifle to fire."
"They must have been quite close to each other,
were they not?"
" To be sure they were, quite close ; perhaps eight
or at most ten yards apart. If Joseph had not felt
sure that it was the Kranzberger boys he would have
been more cautious, you know, and not have exposed
BAIERISCH ZELL. 215
himself; but he thought for certam it was they. He
had gone round, on purpose to get quite close up to
them before seizing them. Well, directly he saw the
man level his rifle at him, there was nothing left him,
unprepared as he was, but to spring behind a tree
which was close by. Just as he did so the poacher
fired. Joseph gave a turn, but he thought the ball
had hit the stock of his gun, which he still had at
his back, and it was that which caused the shock he
felt ; and he was going to lay hold of his rifle, in readi-
ness lest one of the fellows should approach, when he
found he could not move his arm. It hung down
quite helpless like a dead thing, and then only he
discovered that he had been shot. At the moment
he had not felt it at all. Turning to Bauer he said,
* My God, Bauer, they have hit me ! ' Both stood be-
hind the tree for awhile, but Joseph naturally could
do nothing with his shattered arm. At last he said
to Bauer that the pain was so great he could not bear
it any longer, and that come what might he must go.
The others heard all he said, for you know they were
quite close, behind another tree at most seven yards
off". Bauer told him to go, and he would watch the
others ; and if one of them moved forward to fire, he
■would let fly at him the same moment. Joseph went
off", and they did not attempt to shoot at him. As he
went along he ate a mouthful of gunpowder, and got
safe home at last."
k" And what did Bauer do afterwards?"
" He kept where he was behind the tree, with his
I
216 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
rifle raised the whole time, ready to take advantage of
the least movement of the poachers w^hich should pre-
sent never so small a mark to aim at. Once he thought,
if he took great care and was very steady, he might
hit one. He only saw a part of his head: he fired,
and shot the poacher's cap oif. The bullet just grazed
the tree in passing, so little did the man's head pro-
ject beyond it ; but Bauer thought he might manage
to hit him, and, you see, he very nearly did so."
"Well, but how did the affair end?"
" Oh, there they remained opposite each other till it
grew dark, and then they went off: for in the dark,
you know, neither could see to fire at the other in
going away. The next day they found the roebuck
and the cap lying on the ground, and saw where the
bullet had grazed the tree. Joseph's arm was shat-
tered above the elbow, and it is the greatest wonder
that he did not lose it entirely. He cannot use it
much, but it is better than having none. It is stift'
and very weak ; but being the right arm, he can still
shoot with a rifle, which he is very glad of."
At the Solachers' all were at home, and Joseph the
elder brother too, who had returned from Munich,
where he had been when I was last at his cottage.
He had got a prize — the first if I remember rightly —
consisting of a most splendid flag, besides a sum of
about £6. The flag was of blue silk, with the royal
arms embroidered in rehef in the centre, and bordered
with silver fringe and tassels. It Avas a trophy that
any one might have been proud to carry oft".
BAIERISCH ZELL.
217
Though the severe fracture of Joseph's arm had
been cured, so as to enable hhn still to fire at a target,
it had caused a lameness in that side of the body, and
the right leg was weak and palsied. He had received
a pension for his services, and now lived with his
sisters and aunt on the little estate, which, though
small, was his own. The girls all welcomed me with
the kindest greeting, and right pleased was I to be
again among them.
218 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
It may be well to give some account of the way in which the shots
are reckoned at these shooting-matches. The target is eighteen
inches in diameter; the bnll's-eye six. This latter however is
marked with three circles, equidistant from each other. A shot
in the innermost circle counts four, in the next three, and so
on ; while any out of the bull's-eye is not counted at all. The very
centre of the target is marked by a small copper pin, and only those
whose balls have touched this can have a chance of a prize. When
the shots of two or more persons are of such equal pretensions as to
make it difficult to decide on the priority of their claims, a fres>
target is set up, and a single shot fired by each is the ordeal they
have to undergo*. The usual distance at such matches is 125 yards ;
and the length of the barrel of the rifle is not to exceed 30^ inches
in length, nor are the bullets to be fewer in number than twenty-four
to the pound. It was good shooting therefore of Xavier Solacher to
hit the bull's-eye 192 times out of 200 shots, and of these eight which
he missed more than the half were fired at a moving target.
As each shot is fired, the hole in the target is stopped with a
wooden plug, having a number on it. This number is then entered
in a book, and opposite it a 1, 2, 3, or 4, according as the ball was hi
one of these rings. On a second paper, which each person who takes
part in the match has in his pocket, is also inscribed the number of
the ring. When aU is over, and after the prizes are awarded, the
stakes are divided, as well as the money paid for the shots ; for I
should have remarked that the stakes enable you only to a limited
number of shots, and all above that number must be paid for extra,
* At a shooting-match at Partenkirchen I saw a young forester
strike the point, drilling a hole through the very centre of the target.
But as there was another who had as good a shot to show, he deter-
mined to decide at once who was to be conqueror, and had a fresh
target put up for the purpose. He fired, and his bullet again cut a
hole in the centre of the inner ring, and this time so exactly in the
middle as if it had been marked out with a pair of compasses. The
other was less fortunate. There was of course some chance in thus
firing two such shots in succession.
TARGET SHOOTING.
219
generally six kreutzers, or twopence each. The whole smn thus
obtained is added together, and also the number of circles entered
in the book ; one is divided by the other, and the result shows how
much can be given for each ring on the target. Thus, if I fire a
hundred shots, and hit the bull's-eye seventy times, sometimes in
the third or fourth circle, so that I count altogether one hundred and
seventy rings, and if on inspecting the money in hand it is found
there is enough to pay lOkrs. for each ring, I should get for my
seventy shots 30 fls. 40 krs., or something more than £2 10s.
To add to the gaiety of the festival, the targets are so constructed
that when the head of the pin in the centre is struck a cannon goes
off, and the figure of a Tyrolese, or perhaps a pair of flags, suddenly
rise up from behind. The marker at the target has generally some
fantastic costume, and when you have hit the very centre he plays
all sorts of antics, as if for joy ; and while bringing the target to the
umpires, dances and shouts exultingly, knowing that he will receive
a small present from the lucky marksman. Altogether it is a merry
220
CHAPTER XVI.
ON THE MOUNTAIN.
We were up and ready long before dawn, and Nanny
with her accustomed kindness had prepared my break-
fast, and stood by and chatted with me while I drank
the excellent coffee which was her making, well pleased
that I found all so good. It always caused me plea-
sure to see her bright intelligent face, and the patois
in which she spoke gave, to me at least, an additional
charm to her lively, sensible talk*.
" Joseph is going with you today," she said, " he
will like to accompany you if you have no objection."
*' Of course not ; I shall be very glad to have him.
Who would not like to have a Solacher with him on
the mountain ?" And so she thought too in her heart,
I know ; for though the last part of her sentence was
added for politeness, she no doubt deemed — and was
quite right in doing so — that the gain and the honom-
* "A sort of Doric dialect," as Humphrey Clinker says of the
Scotch, '* which gives an idea of amiable simplicity."
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 221
was entirely on my side. It always pleased me to see
the love and pride with which these girls invariably
spoke of their brothers. There was all the sister's
aflPection, all the genuine woman's pride, in being able
to talk of them as their brothers. It was a theme
they never tired of listening to, although they never
began it ; but if you spoke of them, their countenances
betokened satisfaction, and they w^ould say perhaps,
" Yes, all the gentlemen like to go out with Maxl ;"
or, " Xavier is a good boy, and a good hunter too :
he 's a sure shot, and has w^on a prize this year at
the great shooting-match." And when Joseph brought
home his richly-embroidered flag, they were more
pleased and prouder of it than if he had bought each
of them a bright kerchief or a boddice worked with
silver.
" Nanny," said I, " you promised me a flower for
my hat, and you have not given me one yet."
" Ah, ah ! because you cannot get one of the younger
sister you come to me ; is not that it ?" she said archly.
" No indeed, my good girl, it is not so. It would,
I know, be useless for me to ask Marie to give me a
flower, though there is some one else, I think, who
would not ask in vain."
" Well, I 'U see if I have one," she said ; and giving
her my green hat, she went to her own room, and
soon returned with a bright flower stuck jauntily be-
side the tuft of hair from the throat of a stag and the
downy feathers that were already there — decorations in
which the mountaineer takes no little pride.
222 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
Joseph, Berger, and myself now started, taking our
way through the meadows and along wooded slopes,
all dark, and solemn, and indistinct, despite the in-
numerable stars. We went towards the Miesing, and
soon after daybreak were akeady a good distance up
the mountain. Nothing was to be seen save a doe with
her kid. We crossed a field of snow, and Berger, creep-
ing forward to the ridge that overlooked a profound
depth, started back suddenly, exclaiming in a whisper,
" There are chamois !" They had seen him however,
and were already on the move. I ran forward to meet
them, and as they came on but slowly, to get a-head
of them was not difficult; then lying down at full
length, with my left arm resting on the ground, and
the rifle pointing almost perpendicularly downwards
over the rocks, I took a steady aim. I was in no
hurry, in no fever of excitement, but quite calm;
and, though the shot was a long one, feehng quite
confident in my rifle, and certain I should hit the
mark. I knew perfectly well that, firing downwards,
I ought to aim low ; and yet, instead of doing so, by
some strange unaccountable perversity I aimed high ;
and purposely so, conscious all the while of what I
was about. I fired, and the ball went just over the
animal's back. There was no excuse for having
missed; it was all owing to my own stupidity, and
this only made the matter more vexatious and pro-
voking. After the shot they turned back, and we
counted eight as they passed along far below us.
With our glasses we discerned a buck and a doe a
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 223
great distance off: we determined to try our chance
of approaching them, and looked for a place where we
might get down the rocky steep. Good practice it
was too, coming down that Handsheimer Eipel Spitz !
Joseph, on account of the weakness of his right arm,
was carefully searching for a spot where, under such
circumstances, he could manage best. Berger and
myself tried elsewhere, and began to move carefully
over the ridge. At first sight this seemed hardly pos-
sible, so abrupt was the descent. Snow too was lying
here and there, making the little projections on which
it rested a very slippery, unsure footing, and there
was nothing to hold by, no support save the iron-shod
pole which we carried with us.
To come down the rocks is always more difficult
than to climb up them. As you invariably descend
with yom^ back to the steep, and consequently looking
forwards and below you, the terrible depth is all the
time before yom^ eyes : in mounting this is not the
case ; and though, if you are so unwise as to think
about it, you know there is a precipice at your back,
it is however unseen. Carefully and steadily then
down you go, your feet forwards, your body sloping
back, and your trusty pole grasped with both hands,
and firmly planted behind you*. Every coming step
must be decided on beforehand. "There," you say,
* In going up hill you always have it before you. If the ascent
is so steep as to oblige you to take a zigzag course, you plant it be-
side you about on a level with your hips, the upper part pointing
outwards ; while your body, resting with all its weight upon it, in-
clines inwards toward the mountain.
224 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" the right foot can be placed, and on that point the
left : yonder grows a solitary latschen ; if I reach it I
may then hold on and let myself down to the bit of
rock below, and once there the rest will be somewhat
easier." Now, your companion, who is below you —
and two can always get on better in the mountains
than one — drives the point of his pole into a crevice,
and holds it horizontally for you to step upon ; or
you plant yours upright, and keeping it so, he holds
by it while letting himself down over a slope of rock,
whose surface is so smooth and steep that not even a
cat could pass there ; and when he is down he returns
you the same good office, as, lying on your back with
your feet in his hands, you slide slowly downward till
you have found a footing.
Joseph was at a distance, among the thick branches
of some latschen, and by their help he got on famously.
We crept silently to a sharp rocky ridge, and looked
over.
"They are still there!" whispered Joseph; "now
which is the best way of getting near them? That
buck is worth having."
After reconnoitring the ground, it was arranged
that Berger should remain where he was, while Joseph
and myself passed along the ridge, keeping our heads
just below the sky-line, and go on thus till we reached
some latschen; then creeping quietly through these,
advance as near as possible to where the buck lay
at rest, and fire. We reached the first latschen, and
still the chamois remained where they were, as Berger
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 225
signalled to us. Joseph went first, winding himself
through the stubborn branches with all haste; for
when we had gone half-way a huge volume of mist
rose suddenly from the valley, and we saw it, in thick
folds, advancing with threatening speed. Once over
that stony spot where the chamois were, and he knew
they would be snatched from our sight ; and therefore
it was that he made such precipitate haste, causing
him to be less cautious than he would otherwise have
been. The elastic branches, instead of being put
gently, almost lovingly, ^side, rustled as he pressed
through them, and the chamois heard it.
" Be quick !" he said, " or we shall be too late ; the
mist is sweeping on fast."
And just as we reached the edge of the latschen,
the vast form, indistinct in outline, but of gigantic
stature, trailed past. The chamois were already gone,
and we afterwards saw the buck some hundred yards
before us, making for the fastnesses where he knew
none could follow him. He walked slowly, stopping
every few paces to look back, and then uttering a shrill
whistle went on again.
Right trusty friends as the latschen always prove
to the chamois-hunter in his need, equally troublesome
are they on other occasions. To pass a thick growth
of them is an arduous business. You have no ground
to tread on, so thickly are their creeping stems inter-
woven ; and if you place your foot on their branches,
it shdes down, and they spring up with a jerk, knock-
ing you probably off your balance. But it is not your
i_
226 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
body only you must contrive to wind through them ;
the long pole in your hand and the rifle at your back
must also accompany you, and every twig then seems
a hand and fingers grasping and pulhng them back.
But when your work is to be done quietly, you groan
inwardly at every step you take. Indeed the caution
which, in this respect, it is necessary to observe, adds
immeasurably to your difficulty. If you dared trample
across the loose debris at wiU, you would find the
passage much easier ; and if you were not obliged to
bend yourself into deformity, to achieve some yards of
open space over which you dare, on no account what-
ever, look like the biped that you are, you would cover
the ground in half the time, and every muscle would
ache much less.
In going home that evening a beautiful appearance
presented itself. The valley in front of us, where
Baierisch Zell lay, was fiUed with a mystic radiance,
and no one saw whence it came. For it did not
hover over one part only, as shed by a foreign influ-
ence, hut it was in the air, and emanated from it ; it
was the very air itself, which by some wonderful
transfusion had become softened light. But as every-
where else it was dark, whence came the halo-like
brightness that filled all the vale ? It was as though
angels had descended there, leaving behind them those
faint traces of their glory long after they were gone.
It was only the moon. Though she had not yet
risen on us, from the other side of the mountain she was
shining on the valley through a dip in the hills. Pre-
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 227
sently however, high, high up to our right, a white bril-
Hancy was seen coming on over the ridge. But no
round orb swam into sight : great spokes of silver came
instead, and frost-work, and fringe, and bars of light, —
strange shapes we had never seen before. The moon
had got behind the dark green branches of a latschen,
and was shining through it. Berger stopped to ad-
mire and wonder : I thought of Moses and the burn-
ing bush.
The next day we were out again, and opposite the
Roth Wand espied thirteen chamois. The herd was
on the side of the mountain, where, by some ancient
phenomenon, all had been laid waste, and covered
from top to bottom with loose rolling stones. There
was no bush, no prominence, behind shelter of which
it was possible to advance on them ; the whole broad
expanse was nothing but dreary barren rubble. Ay,
there they were, and here were we ; but how get at ^
■them ? It was arranged that Berger and I should go
back, and passing up the shoulder of the mountain
reach the summit ; and then, keeping just beneath
the ridge, make the best of our way to a certain gap,
towards w^iich, when disturbed, it was thought they
would bear. So Joseph thought. Berger said they
would go further on, and cross the ridge at another
spot ; but being the younger he gave way, and we
both started off for our appointed station. Joseph
staid behind, and it was agreed that in two hours he
mi^ht show himself, so as to make the game move ;
228 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
for in about this time, it was thought, we might get to
the top. We walked fast and did our best.
As seen from below, a mountain-ridge presents gaps
not seemingly of great size; but when you stand
close to them they wear a different aspect. Torn,
broken, crumbling, the sides overhang a gulf. Up
one of these we climbed. The blocks of stone were
loose, and as I clung to some of them standing but
little out of the perpendicular — so steep was the place
in parts — I could feel that a vigorous pull would bring
them down upon me, — an unpleasant sensation where
there is a fair depth below, into which you would in-
evitably roll ! Once, when half way up, a stone on
which my hand was laid gave way. I was already
falling back, — I knew I was lost, and in that second
of time thoughts came crowding on my mind as though
each would have a hearing in the one moment which
was left, and after which it would be too late. I re-
member quite well my sensations ; that I clenched my
teeth, held my breath, and that one word, the last as
I thought, escaped me. It was a moment of horror.
I felt that the shadow thrown by the wing of the
Angel of Death was over me. My hands were still
outstretched before me, involuntarily trying to clutch
somewhat, and grasping only the air ; when my striving
fingers felt something touch them, and convulsively
seizing it, held on with the locked grip of despair. It
was the slender stem of a sapling latschen ; it did not
snap, nor did its roots give way, and to that young
thing I owed my life.
p
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 229
After a like escape it seems a blessed privilege to
breathe the sweet air in safety ; yet having, as it may
be said, already tasted of death, you hardly know for
the first instant or two if it is quite in character to
breathe or not. You look round you on the earth
and sky, as a man looks on a cherished thing that he
thought utterly lost, but now has found again; and
you seem to love all better than before, and much
more tenderly. You feel very thankful, and you carry
that feeling in your heart, till you see the chamois ; and
then another thought possesses you,- — " Shall I be able
to get a shot?" I do not mean to say that the feel-
ing of gratitude does not return — it would indeed be
very sad if it did not — when you go over the whole
occurrence once more, as you will be sure often to do ;
but the truth is that the physical exertion, the excite-
ment, and the necessary caution, prevent your dwelling
long on anything save the present moment : that is
all-engrossing.
Once on the ridge, it was necessary to be very care-
ful lest the chamois should see our forms against the
sky; but with snow on the ledge, and that ledge
sloping outwards, I found it rather unpleasant walk-
ing, for close beside it the crags went down precipi-
tously full a thousand feet or more.
But the chamois must have seen us, and are moving :
they are making for the gap to which Berger predicted
they would go. We rush forwards, to try to head them,
but it is too far. They pass, and are among the pre-
cipices of the other side before we can get there.
230 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
Thus we had spent the better part of our day in
trying to approach them, and were unable to fire a
shot. Going downwards now was a quick affair.
The loose stones give way beneath your weight, and
slide forwards, carrying you with them twenty feet or
more perhaps at a time ; and in this manner, leaning
back on your pole, with your heels dug into the
rubble, you are soon at the bottom. We were only
thirty minutes thus sliding down.
We went home by the Gems Wand. We saw two
fine bucks below us in a green valley, but far as they
were they scented our approach.
When in the evening we gave the forester an account
of our doings, on telling him about this latter herd
which we had tried to get near, he said we might per-
haps have been more successful if we had stuck a stick
up among the stones, and placed on it a hat or hand-
kerchief *. " Many a time," said he, " have I done so
when out alone, and wishing to attract their attention
in one particular direction, while I got round near them
in another. There is no animal more curious than a
chamois; if he sees something he has not observed
before, he looks and looks to make out what it is.
They will stare at and examine a thing for hours in
this way ; and they are then so busied with the novelty
they see, that they do not look about vrith their usual
* In Catlin's work on America there is a print of an Indian who
has adopted the same plan. He is lying in the grass, near a stick, on
which a cloth is fluttering ; while approaching within shot is a herd
of antelopes, following one behind the other, and looking at the
novelty with countenances expressive of wonder and curiosity.
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 231
watchfulness at other things. I thmk if you had done
so they would not have observed you."
The mention of the Gems Wand reminds me of a cir-
cumstance that once occurred near there ; and, being
very characteristic, I relate the story as it was told to
me a short time ago, by a friend who knew the parti-
culars well. These were his words : —
■ "It was to the young forester's assistant, Kothbacher,
that the adventure happened. He was going along
the ridge of the mountain — the Geidauer Eibel Spitz
it is called — and looking down, what should he see
but twenty-three men standing by the hut. There is
a single hut there, you know, on a green aim at the
foot of steep wild rocks. Well, he looked at them a
long time, and watched what they did, and thought,
and thought, ' If I could only get a shot at one of
them — only at one ! ' And so he kept on thinking
how it would be possible to manage, and did not go
away from the place, but observed them through his
glass, until at last they began to move. There is a
little path that leads from the hut right over the Eibel
Spitz, and he saw that they were coming up, one be-
hind the other ; so he lay still among the latschen, and
waited till they approached. By and bye — perhaps
it was three-quarters of an hour, or may-be an hour
after — he heard their voices. Presently he saw them
winding up the path that led tow^ards him. He al-
lowed them to advance till they were about eighty
yards distant, and then let fly at the foremost : he hit
him right in the middle of the breast, and the man
232 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
dropped down on the spot, stone dead. When they
heard the shot, they all stopped, and ran back some
distance, and grasped their rifles. They were exceed-
ingly astonished, for they saw no one, and could not
tell where the shot came from. Kothbacher, as he
lay among the latschen, could hear them talking to-
gether, and deliberating what they should do. Some
were for going back, when one of them said, it was
a shame to think of going away without knowing more
about the matter. If even there were six or seven
foresters there, what should they mind; there were
twenty-three of them, and it would be a cowardly
thing to turn back for a mere handful of men. Come
what might, he said, he would go on, and as to the
others they might follow if they liked. So with rifle
in hand all ready to fire, on he went alone, straight
towards the place where Kothbacher was lying con-
cealed. He let him come on to about sixty paces,
and fired : the shot turned the fellow quite round on
one side ; he stopped short and then fell, and when
the others saw this they all turned, and were off* as
fast as they could go. Kothbacher now crept down
the mountain among the latschen on the opposite
side, keeping in the bushes, and passing through the
woods so that nobody might see him. I don't know
how it was, but when he came down by the Gems
Wand, instead of going the way he always did, he
took the path that led to Baierisch Zell. It leads,
you know, over the mountain stream, and there is a
very narrow path along it, and across it is a bridge —
ON THE MOUNTAIN. 233
you passed it when you came down from the Roth
Wand on your road to the Solachers'. Well, when
he came here he stopped to load his gun; while he
was doing so — it was dusk already — he thought, as
there was no knowing what might happen, he would
load one barrel with shot : so in one barrel he put a
ball, and a handful of shot in the other. He then sat
down among the bushes to watch if any one came, for
he fancied it was not unlikely that the fellows he had
met on the mountain might take that path downward,
and if so, they would then have to cross that narrow
plank, and as they came on he might give them another
welcoming. He had sat about an hour when he heard
voices ; they came nearer, and presently he saw men
across the water, and could just make out that they
all were armed. That 's right, he thought, they are
tlie same ; and when near, just as they were all crowded
together, about to cross the bridge, he fired his shot-
barrel into the midst of them. You may suppose their
consternation, after having had two of their com-
rades shot on the mountain without seeing who it
was that fired, now in the darkness to have the same
thing happen once more. Kothbacher went leisurely
through the bushes, and walked quietly home ; but
they were terrified almost out of their senses, and did
not know what to do, for they never thought them-
selves safe, and could not tell if another shot might
not come peppering in among them a moment after."
" Did he kill one with the last shot?" I asked."
" No ; he said he heard quite well the shot falling
234 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
among them after he fired. He hit one only in the
breast ; of course he wounded him badly, but the man
recovered.''
"And the two he shot on the mountain?"
" One only was dead — the first he fired at : he fell
directly, and never moved after. The other he hit in
the shoulder, and broke his arm, so that it was obliged
to be taken off*. At first he thought he had killed
two, for the ball knocked both over at once ; but Koth-
bacher, you know, after the second shot, made off as
fast as he could, for he did not know what the others
might do, and having fired both barrels he could not
defend himself. But only think what odds — one against
three-and-twenty ! He must have been a brave fellow,
must he not?"
" I suppose they never knew who it was fired at
them? Of course Kothbacher never said a word."
" Not a syllable : no, they never found it out. The
fellow who was shot was the son of a rich peasant near
Schlier See, — the only son too. The same night that
it happened his parents heard some one knocking at
the window, and a man, in a voice quite unknown to
them, said that if they would go up to the Geidauer
Eibel Spitz they would find their son ; and next day
they went, and there they found him, sure enough,
lying dead."
235
CHAPTER XVII.
MEETING WITH POACHEES.
All-Souls' Day being a great holiday we remained
at home, and I strolled out across the meadows to
enjoy the morning. I went into the churchyard to
look at the graves, each one adorned, as well as might
be, according to the means or taste of those who
brought their offerings. Some were bordered with
rows of red berries, gathered in the hedgerows, with
a cross of the same in the centre of the mound ; while
others had wreaths of evergreens, and a device made
out of the cones of the fir. They were indeed very
simple ; but they were the offerings of affection, and
showed that those who had now another home were
not forgotten, and in my eyes therefore they looked
beautiful. How touching is the gift of a little child,
even on account of its poor worth — so incommensu-
rate with the great amount of love it is meant to be
a token of !
The forester had marked out a plan for us for the
236 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
following day, and accordingly we started early, having
rather a long way to go. We soon left the road, and
took a short cut across the meadows. We had not
gone many steps before we came upon the traces of
men's footsteps, which were discernible on the dewy
grass. We looked, and looked again : there was no
mistaking them.
" They are quite fresh," observed Berger ; " they
cannot have passed here long:" and we distinctly made
out the trail of five men. " When we come to the
road," he continued, " we shall be able to see which
way they have taken ; but I have no doubt they are
gone up the mountain. Today is a sort of a holiday,
and the rascals always choose such days, as they think
we are at home, and consequently they are safe. They
are from Hundham, that I knoAV for certain, for they
come from that direction, — the worst set in the whole
neighbourhood." This village was notorious for its
poachers, and not one of them but would as soon send
a bullet through a gamekeeper as a roebuck.
On reaching the road we found by the footsteps
that the men had entered the wood with which the
slope was covered.
'Must as I thought!" exclaimed Berger; "they
have gone up exactly where we are going ; there is
little chance now of our seeing anything today. Con-
found the rascals ! there 's a day's sport spoiled !"
We made out that some others had taken a different
direction, and that they had not all kept together. As
we went up the hill Berger said : " It is well to have
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 237
your rifle ready : look if all is in order, and it will
be better to put back the stoplock ; for there 's no
knowing what may happen."
In going up the Heissen Flatten we found the track
of a deer in the moss and on the soft ground ; and on
nearer examination I saw it was quite fresh, and that
the animal must have passed there but a very short
time before. We followed it for some distance, but
the men had no doubt scared it away, and there was
not much likelihood of meeting it again. Berger was
at some distance, and while waiting for him I leaned
on my staff and looked at the ridge of the mountain
before me, high up in the sky ; while doing so I
thought I saw something move. Although far away,
it still was on the sky -Hue, where every object is more
easily discerned. I looked steadily, and now was sure
I had not been mistaken. It could not be a chamois,
I said to myself, it was too large for that, — and a
stag ? — it might be, but I thought not ; the move-
ments were not like those of a stag. Keeping my
eyes steadily fixed on the object, I put my hand into
my riicksack behind me and pulled out my glass. The
figm-e was now clear enough ; it was a man who was
w^alking along the ridge, with a rifle at his back. I
whistled to Berger : he answered, and a moment or
two after joined me. " Look up there,'' I said, giving
him my glass ; " there goes one of the fellows we
tracked just now. Do you see him ? just to the right
of that latschen ; now he is hidden — ^there — ^now he
comes
again
238 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" I see him," said Berger ; *' that 's one of them,
for certain.
" Now I '11 tell you what, Berger," said I ; "I would
rather get that fellow than the best chamois buck that
was ever shot in these mountains. If we could but
get him, and bring him down to the forester's house !
Come, let us be after him : which is the best way ?"
" There is no use in trying, I assure you," said he ;
"you see yourself what a distance he is off. Why, by
the time we reached that ridge he might be far away
on the other side, across the valley and up on the other
mountain. I should like to catch him well enough,
you may be sure, if only it were possible. It would
take us some hours to reach the ridge where he is."
*' I know that, but we may make the attempt. To
take that fellow's rifle from him, and bring him down
in triumph — by Jove ! it would be the best day's sport
I ever had in my life."
But Berger still protested against the experiment,
contending that it was perfectly useless to try. So we
went on, keeping away to our right — ^to the right of
the spot too where I had seen the poacher. The whole
time my thoughts were occupied with the man, and
I was still longing to make him prisoner. We had
mounted a long rough path among the latschen, and
could now overlook the scene. Further on to the
right the mountain ridge made a sweep, and there the
rocks were torn, jagged, and everywhere steep pre-
cipices. It was a wild, frightful place. Far below
was a chasm, but nowhere ought else but loose and
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 231
rolling stones. Around us was quite a wood of latschen,
and above was the continuation of that ridge where I
had first seen the man. As we moved along L sud-
denly stopped, and touched Berger, who was before
me, with my pole, that he might do the same. He
looked round, but my finger on my hps caused him
to keep silence. I listened for some time, but the
stillness was unbroken by any sound."
"What was it?" whispered Berger.
"Did you not hear something?"
"No."
"Well, but I did. Just above us a pebble rolled
down : it was as if it had been displaced by some
one's footsteps." However all was now still, and we
proceeded onwards.
We had reached the ridge of the mountain, and
Berger sat down to look over into the space below
and try if chamois were to be seen. I chose a place
a little behind him and somewhat higher. By chance
I turned my head to the right, and there to my asto-
nishment I saw, not thirty yards off, the same figure
that I had observed before with my glass. I ducked
my head in a second, and pressing down Berger's
shoulders behind a latschen, pointed in the direction
of the poacher. We lay on the ground and watched
him, first with the naked eye and afterwards with our
glass. He was a young peasant, of about twenty : he
carried a bran new single-barrelled rifle, and the usual
rucksack Avas at his back.
"We have him now, Berger!" I whispered.
240 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
He nodded his head, while his eyes sparkled with
expectation. We let him proceed on his path, and
when he was behind a piece of rising ground, rose up
and stole along after him : then we again lay down
pretty close to him. How both laughed, as we saw
him looking carelessly about, unconscious of danger ;
while all the time we could have struck him with a
ball when and where we chose !
" Hush ! now then, don't laugh," said Berger : "as
soon as we get near enough we '11 rush upon him.
Have you all ready?"
" Yes, yes ; both barrels are cocked, and my pole —
that I shall leave here in the latschen ; give me yours,
I '11 put them together."
" But don't fire, — promise me that. You will not
fire?" he asked.
" No, no, don't be alarmed ; I won't fire : if how-
ever I see him attempt to raise his rifle, then down he
goes."
" Very well then," he said : " now come on."
We moved along with all speed in order to get
close up to him, a block of stone lying right be-
tween us ; when we reached it he was only a few
steps in advance. Berger turned his head to see if I
was ready : I nodded, and at the same moment he
sprung towards the poacher, I being close behind
him. " Down with your rifle, you rascal ! Lay down
your rifle ! " In rushing upon him however his foot
slipped, and thus he lost a second, and the fellow just
eluded his grasp. Had a mountain been hurled down
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 241
from above, he could not have been more startled ; and
no wonder : he thought himself alone, and suddenly
his soHtude is disturbed by two armed men, rising
seemingly out of the earth and springing upon him.
" Kreutz ! Himmel ! Donner Wetter ! Himmel Sa-
crament ! " he screamed with fright and terror, and
dashed at a bound behind a bush not a dozen paces
from where we stood.
^ " Lay down your rifle, or by Heaven I '11 fire !" I
cried, raising my rifle to my shoulder and moving
toward the bush, though in reality it was so thick
I could not see any part of him. He knew his ad-
vantage, and cowering close did not speak or move.
With the exception of the bush where the poacher lay
hidden, all around was bare as the palm of my hand.
My whole person was exposed had he liked to fire,
and I was close to him. But there was no bravery
in this; for the danger and folly of standing thus
unprotected never once occurred to me. When it
did, I slowly changed my position. I saw Berger a few
paces further back, partly protected by the brow of
the mountain, and this reminded me of what I ought
to do. I therefore retreated some steps, keeping my
front towards the bush and my rifle ready. I had
just reached the ridge, when from the amphitheatre of
rock — ^from that horrid abyss of crag and precipice —
loud shouts were heard : they broke strangely upon
the silence, and at the moment I did not comprehend
what they were.
^L "The others are coming!" cried Berger; "there
U
242 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
are seven of them — they have seen us— quick, into the
latschen ! — follow me ! "
I looked at the bush and felt sorry to leave it with-
out driving the game from its hiding-place ; but Berger
quickened me, by bidding me come along, for there
was not a moment to be lost. And indeed the wild
cries from the band grew louder with each shout.
The mountain was steep, and we were soon among the
latschen, keeping our heads low that they might not
betray our whereabouts, or serve for a mark to their
rifles. The men's cries grew now quite distinct —
" Down with the rascally Jager ! — the villains — down
with them ! '* and every instant brought the voices
nearer.
" Quicker, for Heaven's sake, quicker ! they are
coming on fast ! " cried Berger, who was far in ad-
vance, but who now stopped to wait for me ; " what
keeps you so long? " "The thing was, in moving through
the latschen, a branch had caught the leathern strap
by which I slung the rifle at my back, and the metal
fastening had snapped. So now I was obliged to carry
it in my hand, which was very inconvenient.
" Down with the rascals !" was again ringing behind
me — "Pire at the villains !" but though they said this
I do not think they saw us, or they would not have
spared their balls. The latschen were thick and high,
and a branch of one whirled off" my hat, and whisked
it away over the tops of the next bushes. To leave
that behind as a trophy for the men of Hundham
would never do ; besides I remembered there was the
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 243
flower in it that Nancy had stuck there the day be-
fore. This determined me ; so I stopped and went
after my hat : I reached it at last. The fellows were
near now, and never ceased their cries. We were at
length out of the latschen, — a reason the more for
making all speed. Berger ran on, and I close behind.
He made for a spot, down which he intended to pass ;
we reached it. "Good God!" he cried; "it is a
Wand (a precipice) ; we can't get down ! " Further
on there was no outlet, no way to escape ; we w^ere
therefore obliged to go back again. We reached some
rocks : they were not much less steep than those
where we had been before, but Berger dashed down
them, now rolling, now sHding, now holding on as
he best could. Just above that place was an open
spot, — no bush or rock, nothing but bare stones. I
looked below, to see how I was to manage it, for the
descent was nearly straight. HaK way down a soli-
tary latschen grew out of the rocks on one side, and I
calculated that if I could catch that in passing, and
hold by it, I should be all right. I was just stooping
to descend, when one of the poachers sent a ball after
•me, to quicken me in my resolve ; it luckily fell short.
Berger turned, and looked up to see if I was hit.
While standing on that bare spot, I no doubt pre-
sented too good a mark to let the opportunity pass
unimproved. But this so enraged me, that, had I not
been akeady scrambling downwards, I should have
turned and sent a bullet back in reply ; for the young
fellow being foremost, it was he, I imagined, who had
R 2
L
244 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
fired, — he whom I had let pass unscathed, though I
could have taken his life twenty times had I so willed.
It was racking work, racing down that steep over the
broken ground : every instant I expected another ball
to be sent after us : my mouth was parched, my chest
was heaving, and as soon as we reached a wood I
declared I would run no further. We sat down there-
fore behind a tree, where we were safe enough; for
if the men approached we should be sure to see them
first, and we both agreed, if they did come, this time
to fire. Each of us had two shots, and these would
be quite enough to stop their advance. But all was
still, and having rested we walked slowly homewards.
" I was right you see, Berger," I said as we went
along ; " it was a stone I heard rolling ; the man was
just above us at the time, and dislodged it as he
passed."
" Yes, he went along the ridge to drive the game for
the others, who were among the rocks ; they were the
same we tracked across the meadows this morning;
I was sure they were bound for the mountain."
It was reaUy very extraordinary that the whole
afiair turned out as it did. The poacher must have,
passed the spot on the ridge where we sat down, but
a minute before our arrival. Had we by chance
spoken in coming up he would have heard us, and
would very likely have let fly at one or the other. If
too we had got there one half minute sooner, we must
have met face to face. It is to this moment a matter
of surprise to me that the man did not hear our steps ;
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 245
for we were close to each other, and neither Berger nor
myself took any pains to step lightly. But not sus-
pecting danger, and walking slowly on in a sort of
reverie, his ear must have been less alive than ordi-
narily to a passing sound. Though the path he had
taken along the mountain-top was much shorter than
ours, he had proceeded very leisurely, which accounted
for our reaching the same point at almost the very
same moment of time.
"We won't return the usual way," said Berger;
" let us go round by the fields, where we shall be sure
to meet no one."
"Why?" I asked.
■ " Only look what a state we are in ! how your
clothes are torn, and mine too ! If any person were
to meet us, they would be sure to suspect something
had happened, by our coming from the mountain
thus early. We have no pole either, ^ — a stick of some
sort we must have ; wait a moment and I '11 cut one
for each of us. There," he continued, after trimming
a couple he had procured from a fence, " there, that 's
better than nothing in our hands : I would not be
seen in this plight for anything ; it is bad enough to
have had to retreat before those rascals, but for it to
be known, and for the people to know who it was and
to talk of it, that 's enough to drive one wild."
We came to a stream, and passing through it bare-
footed, sat down on the bank to mend our things.
Needle and thread we had none ; so I divided the twist
of a piece of string, and making holes in the torn
246 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
garment with the point of my knife, in this wise tied
up the rents. I could not help laughing at our droll
figures while thus employed ; but Berger looked grave,
and I saw that anger was devouring him.
" Here Berger, drink ! " said I, handing him the
leather covering which, when it rained, I strapped
over my gun-lock, and in which, for want of anything
better, I had fetched water and mixed with some
rum from my flask ; but he refused it, saying, " I can't
drink, nor eat either : something is here that seems
to lace my chest together, and there is a gnawing
at my stomach, as though a wolf were inside. Those
rascals ! Eor a jager to be obHged to run before such
fellows ! If only they don't find our sticks, — that
would be a triumph for them ! "
There was no consoling him. " Had I been alone,"
he continued, "those rascals should not be able to
say they made me run : they have something to brag
about now."
" But Berger," I replied, " why did you do so
then? I followed your directions implicitly, and left
you to decide what was to be done. I don't think you
can complain of my behaviour in the matter."
" No indeed, that 's true enough ; but you see, I
could not know that beforehand ; and besides if any-
thing had happened to you, I should have been respon-
sible : 'twould be said, I ought not to have led you
into the danger, and all the blame would have fallen
on me. But had I been alone, 1 should have crept
into the latschen and staid there, and I know they
MEETING WITH POACHERS. 247
would not have ventured after me ; and if they had, I
J«hould quietly have brought down the nearest fellow,
and that would have stopped them. They would have
hardly liked to risk having the contents of my second
barrel sent into one of them ; and even if I had fired
that, I could easily have crept away without their find-
ing me."
I am quite sure that all this was true. Once in the
latschen, he would have felt perfectly safe ; being able
through the boughs to watch his enemy's advance,
without being seen himself, and thus might bring him
down with a ball, or remain quiet, as he found advis-
able.
As he knew the ground better than myself, I fol-
lowed his directions exactly, without argument; in-
deed for this there was no time. He, on his part,
never having been with me under like circumstances,
could not tell how I should get on, and was naturally
unwilling to stay on the mountain, since any awk-
wardness on my side might have proved fatal to me,
if not to both of us. Berger's sole anxiety was for
my safety, and it was this alone which caused his pre-
cipitate retreat.
When we reached home, having taken the most bye
ways, in order to meet no one who might tell the men
of Hundsham they had seen us returning so unusu-
ally early on that day, the forester said it would be use-
less to go out again at present, for the game having
been disturbed would not return to its usual haunts
so quickly. I therefore bade my kind host and hostess
248 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
farewell, and leaving behind a friendly greeting for
the Solachers, set off the same afternoon across the
Kiihzagel Alp for Tegernsee, intending to go on from
thence to Munich. Berger, who had a brother at a
village on the lake, accompanied me. Night overtook
us on the road, and we lost our way in the wood.
We waited till the moon rose, and when its broad face
looked in among the branches, soon found the path,
and in a couple of hours reached the inn. Berger
promised to look after my pole, and a letter which I
received some weeks later from the forester, told me
he had found it : both his and mine were still lying
where we had put them. He added in his letter : —
"All my endeavours to trace this dangerous band of
poachers have been fruitless : I have not been able to
get the least clue to any of them."
Thus ended my shooting in the mountains for
1849; and I returned to town, carrying with me a
rich store of pleasant recollections.
PAET SECOND.
25
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE PEEPAEATION.
How pleasant an occupation is the arranging all for
the coming excursion to the mountains ! What an
agreeable state of excitement one is in, while muster-
ing the necessary things, and again running over the
list in your mind, to be doubly sure that nothing has
been forgotten. And then, too, as this or that thing
is brought forth from its retreat, where it has lain
well taken care of since last October or November,
what gladdening associations the sight of it calls forth,
and how vividly the mountain and mountain life
appear before you ! Ha ! there is the old riicksack
again — stained and discoloured by the rain and the
dews, and by the blood of the last chamois that it
helped to bring down from the mountain. And there
are the dried, prickly leaves of the fir still among its
folds ; and crumbs of bread, and a hard crust too,
reminding of the delicious yet simple meal on the
top of the Miesing or the Krammets Berg. What a
252 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
longing it awakens to have it again at your back, and
to be trudging along before daybreak over the dewy
meadows of the valley ! The dear old sack ! it is
indeed faded and weather-beaten, but its very beauty
consists in being so, telling as it does of long and
faithful service.
And now for the mountain stick, — here it is, tough
and unbending as ever. The good old fellow ! he
has been a trusty friend, and helped where none else
could, and when sure and timely support was a ques-
tion of life or death. What a pleasure it is to have
it once more in your hand ! You are carried away
by the impulse of the moment, and, in thought, are
again on the steep declivity with the abyss in front ;
and so, leaning the iron point on the floor, with body
bent back and whole weight resting on the good staff,
the four walls and even floor of your room have disap-
peared, and you are on the rocks among the latschen,
with the blue sky overhead. A sudden fit of impa-
tience, that was dormant until now, has seized you :
you want to be off", and begin to think it was foolish
not to have started some days ago, for then you would
have been on the mountains by this time. Hitherto
you were calm enough, and proceeded with your task
of packing and preparing with a placid serenity ; but
as the several objects more especially connected with
the scenes where you are going again greet you after
a ten months' interval, your cool business-like manner
begins to disappear, and, in a word, you can hardly
wait to be off.
THE PREPARATION. 253
Now then a place for these two pair of thick-soled,
well-nailed shoes ; and here are white woollen stock-
ings, with the clocks worked in green ; and the short
leathern breeches, embroidered with green silk, — in
with them all for the present ! in a day or two how-
ever we shall have them on. That powder-horn we
will put into the very middle, among the hnen, where it
will be sure to be quite dry ; and here are two bottles
of rum to be stowed away safely somewhere. Those
cramping-irons may be left out, they are very heavy ;
besides their sharp points tear everything they come
in contact with. And here are bullets, in a bag
of sawdust to prevent their rubbing. Now let me
see : in the riicksack are the telescope and hammer,
and small leathern bag with balls for the day's use ;
and flask, and drinking-cup, and knife, et cetera, et
cetera.
Yes, now I have all. The joppe must not be
packed — that is to be worn ; and whether on a journey,
on the mountains, or in the library, a more comfort-
able garment is not to be found. It is at once all
that may be desired, — is warm or cool, and may be
worn over another coat as well as alone. This said
joppe, now the national dress of the peasant of the
Bavarian highlands, of Styria and the Tyrol, can lay
claim to high descent ; it is, with slight variation,
the ancient short royal mantle that we occasionally
see on the stage — such as Harry the Eighth wore —
lined with ermine, and made so that it hung loosely
on the wearer, or could be wrapped close should he
254 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
choose, as theatrical kings often do, to cross his arms
on his breast and scowl upon mankind. There is no-
thing hke a joppe, grey turned up with green : the
ermine has disappeared, but the lineage is to be traced
for all that.
And now for the rifle ; but before putting it in the
leathern case, just one look to see that all is in order ;
and up it goes to the shoulder, and we are delighted
at the fineness of the sights, and should be glad to
get a good long shot to test their accuracy. For, be
it known, we have had some alterations made since
using it last ; the sight at the end has been filed away
till its pin's-head shape was changed to a thinner
form, and the indentation on the bridge in the middle
of the barrels has also been made proportionably
finer. For in firing at a great distance, if the sight in
front is of coarse size, the chamois is quite covered by
it; a chamois not being a very large animal. The
charge too has been increased for a longer range ;
and since all these reforms have taken place, the rifle
has not once been in requisition; so we have a
double interest this time in going out with the old
friend, and in seeing how he comports himself in his
altered condition. He will do his duty, without
doubt ; and if the arm that holds him be but steady,
there can be no fear about the result.
Most persons, I suppose, quite well understand the
affection of the rider for his horse, whether that rider
be Arab, fox-hunter, or cavalry soldier. They find it
natural that the animal, which has contributed to the
THE PREPARATION. 265
pleasures of the one, or shared the dangers of the
rther, should be looked upon in the light of a friend,
and be cherished accordingly. And they are right in
thinking so. The steed shares the excitement of his
master, and the natural ardour of each is a bond of union
between them. But will they be able to comprehend
the fondness of the mountaineer for his rifle, between
which and himself there can be no such sympathy?
fcTet affection he does feel for it : he and it have passed
"many a pleasant hour together, and it has been the
means of procuring him the most exciting joys. Why,
his very fame as a good shot, is it not bound up with
his rifle ? and do not the two, like loving companions,
share with each other the praises and renown ? And
a stronger cause for attachment still — has he not en-
dured manifold disappointments, many a vexation,
many a sad failure, with no earthly thing near him in
which he took an interest, or for which he felt com-
panionship, save his rifle ? For should he have missed
a stag or a chamois, and in all the bitterness of disap-
pointment and self-reproach sits down alone to think
over the event and explain how it happened, the
sportsman, if he have a grain of sense or justice in
his composition, will never attribute the failure to his
rifle, but to his own over-hastiness or want of skill.
On the other hand, when at 160 or 180 paces he has
brought down a chamois, he praises his good weapon,
and looks at it complacently and with cherishing re-
gard. The reputation of my rifle I maintain as though
it were mixed up with my own. Like the monarch
256 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
in a constitutional state, in my eyes it "can do no
wrong;" and when a blunder is committed, I, as re-
sponsible minister, am ready to bear the blame.
Moreover I always clean the weapon myself; and,
though a rifle is an inanimate thing, the care and at-
tention thus bestowed make you like it all the more,
and feel for it a certain regard. Always on my re-
turn from the forest or the mountain, let me be never
so tired, or wet, or hungry, my first care is my rifle,
to see that it is dry, to wipe the locks and look care-
fully to the inside of the barrels ; and then, but not
before, do I provide for myseK; then comes the re-
freshing toilette and the pleasant meal.
It is the 14th of September : all the clocks in
Munich are striking five, and the stage-coach is rolling
noisily through the streets, and going southward. I
and my rifle are inside, and when day breaks to-
morrow, shall see the sun rising over the snows on
the Zug Spitz and the Wetterstein.
257
CHAPTER XIX.
TO PARTENKIRCHEN.
It was about eight o'clock when the smart young
peasant, who drove us from Ammergau to Partenkir-
chen, set us down at the entrance of the high street
of the village, and bidding us farewell, cracked his
whip and took the road that, here diverging, leads to
Garmisch. From the principal inn issued the cheering
sound of merry human voices ; and the windows were
full of light, and there was a bustle and a hum that,
as one approached, rose upon the hush of the night,
and had a pleasant influence on the traveller seeking
a night's lodging. And there stands mine host — such
a host as I always like to see — of fair dimensions, and
|bi whose jolly face good-humour has ensconced itself.
He looks as pleased as though the hght, and gaiety,
and hearty laughter emanated from him; as though
he were the sun whose rosy presence thawed all into
merriment. And, for aught I know to the contrary,
it may have been so. He was a right jolly fellow, as
s
258 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
I afterwards experienced ; and when, some weeks later,
I lay day after day sick and lonely in bed, I was as
glad to see him enter my room as when a sunbeam
looked in through the window-pane.
But the house is full ; there is not a bed to be had
for any money, or, what would weigh still more with
our worthy landlord, not even for the sake of obliging
another. There is a fair tomorrow, and many are the
comers from the neighbouring villages; so that the
lack of house-room is as great as when independent
electors throng to support independent candidates at
a small country town in England.
After some vain applications elsewhere, we at length
found a lodging, and the following morning I could
not but think how lucky it was the inn had been full ;
for on peeping out of the window, there stood before
me the great grey mountains of which the Zug Spitz
is the last and highest peak. The sky was bright and
blue, and cutting against it the sharp, hard outline of
the cold stony ridge; nor could the sunbeams even,
as they played upon that rock's imperturbable face,
impart to it life or warmth. Our little lattice was the
frame to the picture, and I soon roused my fellow-
travellers to come and see what we, in our humble
back room, were possessors of. Long after the others
had left the window I was still looking out; and I
gazed and gazed, in order to be quite assured that I
was really among the high mountains.
How often do we hear children, when asking for
something, insist on its being a real sword, or horse,
TO PARTENKIRCHEN. 259
or whatever it is they wish for, and not a mere make-
beheve ! They are always fearful they may be put off
with something that is not the reality, and so there
be a falling away from their brilliant imaginings.
Somehow or other I carry this childish anxiety about
with me still; and when a wished-for- thing is just be-
fore me, and another step will enable me to reach it,
the doubt and the suspicion will arise, and I can hardly
bring myself to believe that it is really so. And even
this difficulty over, all my reasoning cannot make my
silly self give up the fear that something may yet hap-
pen to snatch away the enjoyment. I must have the
toy in my hands, before I can believe it is my " very
own." And so I looked to satisfy myself that what I
saw was all real ; and then I looked again, to be sure
that my wishes had not betrayed me into self-decep-
tion. But there was no mistake here; and it was
settled these were indeed thoroughly respectable moun-
tains, and that I with my own eyes was beholding
them.
Just with such fluttering anxiety did I approach
Venice for the first time. Already at Mestre, I dreaded
lest, by some unforeseen cause or other, I should be
transported across the Lagune otherwise than in a
gondola. Could I by any piece of witchery have been
carried thither through the air, I would still have
preferred the gondola ; for that was associated with all
my boyish notions of Venice, and without it therefore
the charm of that moment, so long waited for, would
have been incomplete. And only when fairly seated
s 2
260 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
in it, and we had shoved away from land, did I feel
sure that nothing could cheat me of my hopes. And
as we emerged from the Grand Canal, — ay, there was
St. Mark's, and the Masts, and the Palace of the Doge,
all as I had seen them a thousand times in pictures,
in drawings, and in my fancy. All was there — I
missed nothing — I recognized every spot. Yet as the
gondola lay moored against the steps, and the waters
of the Adriatic gurgled under the prow, I still stared
in wonderment, and even then asked myself. Can it
really be ? And at last when I stood on the pavement,
and passed between the columns at the landing-place,
I looked up and told myself gladly, I had lived to see
the winged Lion of St. Mark.
But now to the Forester, for in his hand Hes my
fate. His house lay just out of the village, and so
crowded was the street that to reach it was a matter
of time. The booths and the gaudy throng of pea-
sants formed a merry scene ; but the prettiest spot was
the cattle-market, where picturesque groups had col-
lected, — here, some young girls with kids ; there, two
old men bargaining for a calf that a chubby boy was
fondling ; and, best of all, childhood was everywhere to
be seen, — a pleasant sight always, and in any picture.
The kind forester gave me a few words to one of
the under-keepers, whose district was a short distance
off; and though here, as everywhere else, the game
had of late been destroyed by wholesale, he still had
hopes that I might get a shot.
" However I cannot promise you," he added ; " for
TO PARTENKIRCHEN. 261
all around there are poachers, and from the villages
the peasantry go out and shoot everything they see.
I think the best place for you to try will be the
Oester Berg : it was a capital mountain formerly, and,
though it has been well-nigh cleared, it still is the
most likely one for a successful stalk. There is a hut
about half-way up where you can sleep : that is to
say, you will find straw to lie on and milk to drink.
Bread you had better take with you."
In the afternoon, putting a few things into my ruck-
sack, and leaving the rest with the landlord at Par-
tenkirchen, I started for Earchant. I soon found the
forester, and we talked over the chances of seeing
chamois, and where it was best to go. " You would,"
he said, "be more likely to get a shot on this side
than on the Oester Berg. I was there the other day,
and saw chamois : two bucks are there for certain,
but if we shall meet them it is of course impossible
to say." Then came the old tale, falling sorrowfully
enough on a hunter's ear, that a year or two ago,
had I been there, I might have had sport in plenty,
but now all the best mountains were quite depopu-
lated. This is a theme which at once causes a dark
look to pass over the face of a forester. Angry feelings
B^d hatred rise with a sudden gush within him, as he
thinks of the times when those mountains and forests
were his pride, and remembers that the stag and the
chamois which he watched so lovingly have been since
then swept away by bands of lawless marauders. I
may safely assert that, in the breast of no set of men
262 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
have the late revolutionary changes caused such dark
and bitter feelings as in those of the foresters and
gamekeepers : for not only did they see that which
it had been their pride to guard, at once, partly by
law and partly in defiance of the laws, given over to
plunder, but they found themselves with hardly a
shadow of protection, while defending the little which
the new order of things had left them. At first indeed
it seemed as though matters were arranged to protect
the thief, rather than him whose property had been
stolen. For the new game-laws were partial; they
were carried out too with a miserable inertness ; more-
over the authorities were themselves often possessed
by the same spirit, subversive of order, or were influ-
enced by fear ; so that the poacher, though caught in
the fact, had but to bear himself with effrontery and
bravely lie, in order to escape scot free. He knew
besides that the foresters dared not fire at him ; while
he, defying the law, cared little for a similar restric-
tion. When one hears of the ill-treatment, and inso-
lence, and danger, to which these men were exposed
when this lawless spirit broke loose over the land, one
only wonders how human patience could have been
found so enduring, and that not more human blood
was shed.
For a true sportsman it is a painful thing to see
game hunted mercilessly at all times, — the dam shot
away from her helpless young, and the kid destroyed
when it is only a few weeks old. And this was going
on the whole year round, in every spot where a deer
TO PARTENKIRCHEN. 263
or chamois was to be seen, and the stolen venison
sold openly under the very eyes of its lawful pos-
sessors. Most of those persons therefore who had a
chase, were obliged to exterminate their game them-
selves, rather than have it shot and carried off by the
peasantry, who were ever on the alert.
I proposed that, if we tried the Oester Berg, we
should leave overnight, sleep at the hut, and so be on
the mountain early.
" You can do so, if you like," said Neuner ; " but if
you try this side, then we start tomorrow betimes."
" How long shall we be getting up the mountain ?"
I asked.
" Four hours."
" Well then," I said, " we will start at four : at five
it is day, and we shall be up by eight. You can come
for me in the morning." And so it was decided.
264
CHAPTER XX.
UP THE MOUNTAIN.
The following day I was up by a quarter-past three.
The morning was fine and warm, and the stars were
shining with wonderful brightness. Neuner just en-
tered, as I went into the little room below to get my
breakfast.
" There is my rifle, Neuner ; be so good as to load
it, while I drink this cup of coffee. In the riicksack
you will find the powder-horn and balls ; here is the
measure for the powder. I shall have breakfasted in
a minute, and then we'll be off: this half brown loaf
we may as well take with us."
We sallied forth into the darkness. As we crossed
the fields in the valley, the forms of the nearer moun-
tains could be just made out, inasmuch as the gloom
above was not quite so impenetrable as that which
shrouded their sides and base. Now came the grey
dawn, and then the ever-cheering daybreak, accom-
panied by that wonderful breath, moving through the
UP THE MOUNTAIN.
air, which is felt at no other time. To the left was
the Kramer Berg, with its steep wall of rock and
abrupt precipices. From every point on this side the
Kramer presents itself in great picturesqueness ; the
grey stone and overhanging pines, and the deep ra-
vine, are mingled together so finely that your eyes turn
thitherward almost unconsciously ; it juts out too, and
■prises at once from the plain, and the bold upward line,
especially when seen in profile, gives it a commanding
aspect.
" What a thorough chamois mountain that seems to
be," I observed to Neuner : " what capital places every-
where for them to maintain themselves in, — just such
places as the chamois love. Are many there now?"
^ " Formerly it was one of the very best places : now
™I doubt if there are any, — two or three perhaps. You
might go out day after day and not see the trace of
■a living creature. And how the poachers used to be
about ! You might have heard rifle-shot after rifle-
shot on the mountain continually. Garmisch, you
see, lies close at the foot of it, and the Garmisch
reople were always out."
" As it is so conveniently at hand, most of them, I
suppose, were poachers?"
K, " Nearly all. They are a bad set there : work they
will not, and so they take their rifles and amuse them-
selves. I know most of them ; but if I met one on
the mountain, and went afterwards to the authorities
^to inform against him, the fellow would have a dozen
[witnesses ready to swear that at that very hour he was
266 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
elsewhere, and I should get no redress. Formerly the
Kramer was in the Ettal district, and then I wished
that it had been in mine. Well, now it is so ; but as
things are, I would rather not have it. Ay, formerly !
that was a place indeed — the best of any here."
" On this side there are some wild-looking spots,
Neuner; yonder, for example, where the rock shows
through the latschen, — a difficult place that, I should
think, eh?"
" Yes," he said, " ugly places are there. The gul-
lies {graheri) are rather frightful to look at — some of
them at least. I shot a chamois on the Kramer some
time ago, and he afterwards climbed to a spot where
he could not get out, nor I after him ; so I had to fetch
a rope and let myself down by it, and then drag him
and myself up again*."
" I suppose as long as the laws remain in their
present form poaching will not cease. What think
you, Neuner?"
* When a chamois is wounded in the flanks, the ball going through
the bowels, it is always best to let it alone for some time, for it is
then sure to lie down at the first convenient spot it meets with. If
on the contrary you still pursue it, in the hope to get one more shot,
the animal will go on and on, climbing upwards till it is at last locked
in and can get no further. But the worst part is, you cannot get at it
either ; or if you should be able to approach near enough to put an
end to the business with another ball, the chamois in falling from its
narrow ledge will probably roU to such a distance, or come toppling
down, dashing from crag to crag, that even if recovered it is of no
good to any one, as bones and flesh will most likely be all battered
into a pulp. For this reason there are certain occasions when a calm
sportsman would not fire at a chamois, because he would know that,
if he hit it, the creature would be sure to go tmnbling over the pre-
cipice.
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 267
" Oh, the laws are well enough, if they were but
executed. We have law, but there is no one to look
after it. The fellows know we must not fire, so they
don't care : they Hke to go out, and seeing how little
chance there is of punishment, out they go and shoot
^ to their heart's content."
^ "Do they fire at the foresters here?" I asked.
"The Sclilier See men do not hesitate a moment,
but as soon as they see one up goes the rifle to their
shoulder : whether attacked or not, it is all the same
to them."
" No, here they don't : they always run away. But
once I met a fellow carrying off" a chamois, and called
to him to lay down his rifle ; he did not, and was just
running to a tree, from behind which he would most
likely have let fly at me, when I called to him again,
' This is the last time, you rascal ! now then, or I '11
fire ;' and as he did not, I fired. The trigger worked
rather hard, so the shot went off a little late, or the
bullet must have passed through the very middle of
his chest. He reached the tree however, and after-
wards went away."
"And what luck the fellows have," I said: "not
many weeks ago one of the park-keepers of Prince
T * * * fired at a poacher he caught in the park. The
ball passed his ear, just touching it. And another,
since then, shot a poacher's cap from his head : both
got off safe."
" Well," said Neuner, " and it was but the other
day a young forester near here sent twenty-six shot
268 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
into a poacher's back. The fellow took four days to
get home. By good luck — or rather by ill luck, I
should say — not one shot touched his neck*.''
"Did he take his rifle from him?"
"No, the man crawled into a bush, so of course
the other could not venture near him ; but next day
he came up to the spot again, bringing a conu*ade
with him, to look for the poacher, and see what had
become of him. They thought to find him there still,
either alive or dead, but he was gone."
" And did you hear nothing more about him?"
" Oh yes, we knew who he was, and went to see
him. He never said anything about the matter, nor
complained to the authorities; and as he had got
punishment enough, we did nothing more either."
I cannot give a better proof of the progress which
the lawless spirit of the revolutionary movement had
made among the bureaucracy, as well as the peasant
class, than by repeating what my companion told me
as we walked slowly up the steep mountain path.
" A short time ago, one of my men met some pea-
* As these are actual conversations, and not dialogues invented or
dressed up for the occasion, I beg the reader not to make the Author
answerable for any deficiency of mild forbearance or Christian love,
in these or similar expressions of feeling : that is to say, should he
happen to find there is a lack of either. It is the Author's intention,
to the best of his abHity, to give a plain, faithful picture of what he
saw, and to teU what sort of people these mountaineers, and poachers,
and foresters are, and shoio how they feel inclined towards each other.
As to a forester feeling anything like human kindness for a poacher,
this is demanding more than his sinful mortal nature is capable of;
but he has plenty of human hate to give him, inveterate, deep, and
unquenchable.
UP THE MOUNTAIN.
sants out poaching. Creeping along from bush to
rock, he stalked close up to them. He looked at each,
but did not recognize any of the party ; the rifle how-
ever that one carried he remembered; it had been
sold by auction not long before in the village, when
the fire-arms that had been taken from diff"erent per-
sons were disposed off". Well, he laid his informa-
tion ; but the authorities, easy as it would have been
to find out the owner, have done little or nothing in
the matter."
" I suppose they are afraid to act, and are besides
better inclined to the poachers than the foresters."
" Both one and the other," Neuner answered. "And
how savagely the villagers can behave to one of us,
when they get us in their power, what I am going to
tell you Avill show. Some time ago a poacher was
missing from Partenkii'chen. Between one and two
hundred peasants went out to search for him, and at
last found him shot dead. They instantly fancied he
been killed by one of us foresters; but it was really
not the case, for none of us knew anything about the
matter. He had, without doubt, been shot accident-
ally by a comrade. Well, as soon as they found the
corpse, the whole band with shouts went to the house
of the assistant-keeper, but he was out. At last they
found him, and taking him to the place where the
corpse lay, asked, before the body, ' Were you not out
in the mountains?' 'Yes,' he answered, 'but not on
Thursday.' 'You lie!' they all shouted: 'you shot
him.' They then beat him so unmercifully that he
270 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
was soon unable to speak, and could only hold up his
hand imploring mercy."
" And what became of the poor fellow?" I asked.
" He was ill for a long time, and will never quite
recover; he must have received some very severe in-
ternal injury, for though he still goes about, he is
quite a different person to what he was before."
"And were any of the men punished?"
" The doctor, who was a thorough radical, said the
injuries the young forester had received were slight,
and the punishment therefore was also a slight one,
as for a misdemeanour only. Among the mob were
two or three common-councilmen (Gemeinde Rathe)
of Partenkirchen, and there they are still."
We were going onwards up the stony road, when
Neuner said, " Yonder to the left is a salt-lick : it is
as well to look if anything is there."
We left the path accordingly, and passed among
the firs with which all this part of the mountain was
covered. There was little need of choosing our way
here, for in front a mountain torrent rushed along
so boisterously, as completely to drown the sound of
our footsteps over the dry prickly leaves. We came
to the edge of the bed of the stream, a deep and broad
guUy torn and broken up, and desolated by the swollen
torrents which come sweeping down from the moun-
tain-tops in spring-time. Heaps of rock and large
stones were piled in the middle of the broad bed, be-
sides whole trees, dried and sapless as the very stones
themselves, which had been flung there like wrecks.
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 271
We did not speak in a whisper, for the waters were
filling the solitude with a voice louder than ours.
K " There is nothing here," I said, after looking for a
minute up and down the ravine ; when, just as I had
spoken, from beneath a projecting part of the bank
forth bounded a chamois, scared at hearing a sound
suddenly jarring and breaking in upon the monotonous
din that surrounded his loneliness. He leaped upon
a high stone, quite unable to make out what sound it
was that had intruded on the solitude. His fine ear
had caught an unfamiliar tone; the loud equal hum
that was in the air, and in the ground, and rolling on
w^ith the water, was suddenly interrupted ; but what
it was the creature did not know. He stared and
listened again, terrified as men are when the cause
of alarm is unseen. He presently observed us, and,
springing down from his eminence, turned toward the
steep on the opposite side. There he stood and gazed
again, not more than fifty yards from me ; but as it
was only a yearling I let him pass. On he bounded,
then looked back, and leisurely passed up among the
trees to other haunts on the mountain-top, where his
own footsteps pattering on the rock would be the only
sound rising through the heavy silence.
^k On our way upwards we had already passed such
a lick, almost hidden among the trees, — a dark and
shady spot, but nothing was there. Purther on was
another. It was in the same gully we had seen before,
and close to a waterfall, caused by the accumulated
trunks and branches of trees, stones, and fragments
272 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
of rock that had here formed an embankment. We
crept through the underwood, and as we came nearer
I advanced alone. Kneehng among the moss, I could
look down into the haunt of the chamois. On one
side rose a green hillock, and about it long grass was
growing, and shrubs overhung the nook, making of
that patch of ground a bright verdant spot — a little
oasis — amid the barrenness. I fancied to myself it
must be very pleasant behind that hillock, — a cozy
little home such as children, in the overflowing rich-
ness of their imagination, see with their mind's eye,
and in their play will try to build up and make a
reality, — a retreat that nobody is ever to know any-
thing about, all covered over with nice yielding turf.
While looking at the green bank, and dallying thus
with old recollections (by the way what a simpleton
my companion would have thought ine, had he known
what I was about) two most delicately-formed little
ears rose from behind it, then suddenly disappeared.
They came again, and with them this time the pretty
head of a kid, nibbling a blade of grass. It was rather
toying with the herbage than browsing upon it ; and
it pricked its ears, and bright glances darted from its
dark eyes, and it leaped and disported itself in the
very happiest play. I turned to Neuner, putting one
finger on my lips, and then pointed down toward the
watercourse. He was soon by my side. Hidden by
a bush I watched for what else might come, for I
knew it was not likely the kid would be alone. Its
head came forth, now on one side, now on the other,
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 273
but the rest of its body always remained concealed.
Afterwards another head came in sight, or rather the
ears and horns only, nor could I once obtain a view
of the whole animal. We remained a long time wait-
ing for it to emerge from this chosen spot, but in vain.
" That 's a doe, Neuner," I whispered : " the horns
are too fine for a buck. When they come in view
again, look and you will see I am right."
" I think so too," he answered ; " but we are losing
time here. Let us go up higher ; we shall then see
behind that knoll, and if a buck is there get a shot."
Stealthily we crept back, and went higher, but on
looking over the ravine saw nothing; we could not
even discern the hillock which had been between us
and the chamois just before.
" Shall we try a little further on?" I asked.
"No, no, it will not do any higher; they would
be sure to wind us there."
It was then settled Neuner should stay here, while
I returned to my former position ; and when he sup-
posed I had reached it, he was to dislodge a stone or
two to alarm the chamois ; and as they bounded away
I should see what they were, and according to cii^-
cumstances get a shot, or, might be, get none.
Presently down came a stone into the rocky ravine.
The two kids pricked their ears, and looked as though
they wondered what it could be, but yet not much
afraid. A second is heard, hopping along the hard
bed of the torrent. There is no doubt now about the
danger; and off they go, thoroughly scared, — one,
274 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
two, three kids ! and three does too. They look back
once more, and then disappear.
We returned to the path, and soon reached that
part of the mountain where the woods ceased. Be-
fore us lay the bare steep ascent, with here and there
a stunted tree growing out of the rocky earth. Now
all wore a different character; we were entering an-
other region. High above us was the sharp line of
the ridge's summit ; that was our horizon, and thither
we had to go. On our left was a deep hollow.
"There, just there,'* said Neuner, pointing to a
wizard-looking dead tree, " I once shot a stag. It
was evening, and quite dark. I was waiting for him,
sitting here on this stone. He came along by yonder
broken ground, and through the hollow. I could not
see his antlers ; however I fired, but it was too dark
to look for him afterwards. As it was impossible to
go home, I sat the whole night under that tree, and
the worst of it was it rained all the time. In the
morning I found him: he had not gone far, for by
chance I had hit him well."
Some distance up the mountain was a rude log-
hut. We went to it, for in such a place traces are
often found indicative of who were the last lodgers, or
if any one has been there beside the herdsman or the
woodcutter. On the door was written —
"In the lower hut.
Wolf."
It was fastened with a wooden peg outside, so we
knew there could be no one within. It was a miser-
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 275
able shelter, just high enough to stand upright in, and
lp*ound some stones placed together on the ground were
the remains of a wood fire. A bed of dried leaves
and hay was in one corner, and after stirring and
poking it about to see if nothing was hidden there,
we left the place. When a poacher has rested or
passed the night in a hut, he will often leave behind
some marks of his sojourn ; and an experienced eye
will at once discover that the fragments of a meal, the
scrap of paper in which something was wrapped, or
the footsteps round the fire or leading to the hut, were
not the traces of its legitimate inhabitants. Among
the leaves, too, something or other will be occasionally
concealed, to be fetched away at a convenient oppor-
tunity. Neuner said it was herdsmen who had been
there, and that the fire was of their making. We saw
a roebuck grazing among the latschen, but he saw us
too, and soon darted from our sight.
K We were now near the sky-line ; a few steps more
and we should be on the crest of the mountain. On
nearing this boundary of my vision — the line which
seems to encircle and form the limits of a world — the
same sensations were always quick within me. What
■^as beyond? On what should I look down? On
cloud, and vast space, and imdefined emptiness ; or
would wild rocks be there, and dizzy precipices ; or
should I be surprised by overlooking a new portion of
this earth of ours, that my eyes had not yet rested
on ? Should I see a wide plain, with distant cities, and
roads, and tortuous rivers, and thus, with a single step,
T 2
276 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
be in presence of a new tract of country, and take it
in at once with one long wondering gaze ? As I had
never been on these mountains before, there was always
this excitement on nearing the summit — a pleasurable
uncertainty about what was to come. And as I crept
along towards the ridge, about which, until my foot
had touched it, I always felt there hung a mystery,
how busily did imagination ply its work ! The cau-
tion, and the watchful eye, and the breathlessness,
arose as much from the awe of the moment as from
the heed that is natural to the chamois-hunter. And
with straining eye, and a tremulous longing, and a
sense that a spell was upon me which in a second
would be broken, did I creep on my knees to the very
ridge, and stare over into what was beyond. But it
was not until, with still gradually advancing body, I
had cast my eyes over the wliole expanse before me, —
not until with a glance all had been passed over, —
that the charm was dissolved, and that, drawing a
deep breath, I felt the sweetly-oppressive mystery was
dispelled.
It is a different thing altogether thus to behold a
new country from the mountain- tops, or to see it as he
does who advances upon it step by step along the high
road. It does not come upon you gradually, object
after object giving way to others as you approach, but
the whole land bursts upon your vision at once, and
your senses make you feel, by the sudden weight that
presses on them, how great the vastness that the mind
is labouring to take in. You have a consciousness of
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 277
extent, and range, and space, for some minutes before
reason informs you about them, — a sensation that
takes you by surprise, that comes rushing in upon
you, and lording it for the moment over the faculties
of the mind; and though this eventually gives place
to a calm comprehension of extent, reaching further
than the eye can follow, it is after all that frst im-
pression which is remembered long afterwards, — that
frst sensation of being in presence of a vast thing,
but as yet uncertain, vague, and undefined ; for later,
when we look about for forms and mark particular
outlines, there is already a diminution of the glory.
Lying on the earth we wound forwards, and taking
off our hats looked down into the green valley. Far,
far below chamois were seen : out came the telescopes
quickly, and we counted seventeen of them. On the
side of the mountain we could everywhere see their
traces in the snow.
■ "They have been here early this morning," said
Neuner : " we are rather late ; those other chamois
kept us so long. That is the essential thing, to be at
the top early. What a bad wind we have ! it comes
up from behind us, without blowing up from the valley
in front too."
H " We could not do anything, even if they were not
so far ; we should never be able to reach them."
" Besides," said Neuner, who was still watching the
chamois through his glass, " there is not a buck among
them : they are all does."
ty there awhile, examining the herd, and fol-
278 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
lowing their movements with our telescopes, and then
I took out our brown bread, and ate, while enjoying
the scene.
"Have you an apple?" I asked.
"No."
" What a pity ! if you had, we could have a splendid
meal. Is there no water near? for I am thirsty."
"None about here; even the nearest place is a
great distance off.
Though the mountains opposite us were far away,
the bells of the grazing cattle and the shouts of the
herdsman came across to us distinctly, floating on the
motionless air.
Our dry bread being eaten we went on. To the
right was a dip in the mountain, and here we ex-
pected to see chamois. It was an inviting spot ; and
formerly, as Neuner told me, we should have been
sure to find some. We looked around, but not a
creature was visible. After a time we left our path
along the ridge, and advancing among the latschen
sat down and watched. We peered around in vain,
examining every dark green patch of herbage, and
each spot lying in the sunshine, where at this hour
they would most likely be. We were both looking
in one direction, and by chance at the same moment
turned our heads ; when behold, on a pinnacle of
rock, rising among the herbage, there stood a chamois !
" Look, a chamois ! " each exclaimed, — a buck too !
and quick as thought my finger drew back the cock
of the rifle, and I was cautiously raising it, when the
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 279
creature was gone. He did not disappear with a
bound, but vanished Hke a falling star. We looked
at each other astonished, for neither very well knew
how he had got on that point of rock, nor how he
had quitted it; but gone he was. It was doubly
vexatious, for not once in fifty times might I get a
shot under such circumstances. To bring down the
animal you are after is of course always pleasant, but
the satisfaction is at times greatly increased by the
accompanying incidents. The chamois I shot on the
Roth Wand, for example, gave me a hundred times
more pleasure than I should have felt in getting one
of those first seen on the Miesing. The spot where
the creature stands, the scene around it and you, — it
is this enhances the charm, and makes the heart leap
with delight. Now here was all I could wish for:
from that pinnacle, on which he was poised, how he
would have come toppling down through the air into
the latschen below ! And as I rehearsed the whole
scene in my fancy, and grew more and more vexed
that it had not been realized, an angry "Donner
Wetter!'' came rumbling through my teeth; and
flinging my rifle over my shoulder I strode away.
"Do you see yonder green knoll?" said Neuner,
pointing to a rock rising out of the valley, and
behind which a path seemed to lead from the lower
pasturages. " Well, just on that spot a poacher was
shot."
" Who shot him? " I asked.
" One of the under-foresters. The fellow was a
280 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
noted poacher, and had already fired several times at
the keepers. He was the most desperate in the whole
country, and being well known as such they had often
tried to get hold of him, and bring him in dead or
alive. The young forester was quite alone, and stand-
ing just about where we are now, when he saw him
from afar coming up the path ; so he sat down and
waited for him. He knew the path would lead him
to yonder hillock, and presently sure enough he saw
his head appear, and then his shoulders, and then the
whole fellow. He was aiming at him all the while,
but it was not until the man had reached the top of
the rock, and stood before him at his full height, that
he fired. The ball hit him in the centre of his chest.
It was rather strange, but when struck the poacher
pulled open his shirt as if surprised, looked at the
shot-wound, and then falling forwards on his face
dropped down dead."
From a sort of table-land below and in front of us,
where a group of figures was distinctly visible, rose
the sound of women's voices ; and all space was filled
with their carollings. A very flood of tones came
rolling to us in great waves of sound ; for the distance,
and may-be the soft air, blended them in harmony,
and made those loud and sudden gushes of song most
musical. We stopped and examined them with our
glasses.
"Hang them!" said Neuner, while getting out his
telescope, "they are on the mountain shouting and
singing all day long !"
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 281
P
S " Who are they ? " I asked.
B "People digging gentian-roots; they are always
seeking them, and disturbing the game ; it never has
any peace. There are two women and a man/' con-
tinued he, examining them with his glass; "they
are not from Partenkirchen, but come from a village
fcyonder."
Though far away we could hear them distinctly
when they spoke, and their hearty laugh came ring-
ing on our ear, and sounded gladdening among those
lonely rocks.
We were ascending the last rise of the mountain,
when Bursch (the dog) came running to us in evident
fear.
" Himmel, Donner Wetter ! " cried Neuner, seizing
his rifle with the quickness of thought : instinctively
I seized mine while springing round to meet the
danger, and cocked it in a second; for I thought a
poacher had stolen upon us and was close at hand.
But it was no such enemy that Bursch had run from :
a large vulture was wheeling upwards and bearing
away from us, and was now so far that it would have
been useless to send a bullet after him in his flight.
" Had Ave seen him sooner, I might have had a
shot," said Neuner. " Four florins are given for every
one we deliver to the head-forester."
" Are they very large ? " I asked.
" Seven feet from wing to wing ; and they are
strong too ; they carry away the young kids. When
the chamois see one wheeHng in the air, there is a
282 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
terrible commotion, the poor helpless things are so
frightened. I have often watched them : they all run
together, and huddle as close as possible with the kids
in the middle, and wait tremblingly till their enemy
is gone."
After continuing along the crest of the mountain
for some time, we again sat down on a commanding
spot, to look if anything was to be seen. We saw
nothing; so at last I gave up the search, and let
my eyes wander dreamily around, just at they listed,
without aim or purpose. I saw all, but it was su-
pinely, and with the happy consciousness that not
one single object concerned me, or could disturb my
delicious inactivity, — a sweet state of utter indolence.
The early hour of rising, the fatigue and the excite-
ment, all induce this calm and dozing listlessness.
The muscles relax kindly, and the whole body reposes
in a state of slothful Eastern ease.
While thus outstretched upon the earth, my elbow
buried in the grass, and my head resting on my hand,
gradually my eyes wandered to fewer objects, and at
last gazed with but little consciousness at a single
one. Slowly a thin veil moved before it ; I heard the
voices of the women floating lullingly on the air, and
indistinct remembrances were lazily trying to mar-
shal themselves into some sort of order in my brain,
but they could not accomplish it. The carol of the
gentian-gatherers was now as a low hum in my ear,
and from the valley there rose a mist, and then a roll-
ing cloud. I fell asleep.
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 283
Suddenly there came a shock ; a hand was upon me,
and a voice said, " There is a chamois ! " I was wide
awake in an instant, and involuntarily cocking the
rifle on which my hand rested while I slept, I started
to my feet.
" Oh, it is too far to fire," said Neuner. " There
he is!"
■ "I see it ! " And there stood, far below us among
the thick latschen, a fine chamois. Out came the tele-
scope. His fore feet were on a fragment of rock, his
sloping back was towards us, and his neck stretched
out, with the head knowingly on one side, as though
he were listening. He stood so for a long time im-
moveable; it was evident he did not know what to
make of it.
" Perhaps he hears those women," I observed ; "or,
as he is looking downwards, may-be a herdsman is
passing below. What shall we do ? "
" We will wait and see what he does/' said Neuner.
But he still remained, and gazed and listened. And
well might he tarry, for from the rocks above no dan-
ger could reach him ; and to approach where he stood
without being perceived was next to impossible. Yet
he was mistrustful, and soon skipped Hghtly away.
Jffhe manner of his leaving the spot, however, showed
he was not frightened ; prudence, rather than fear, had
induced him to change his position. I knew therefore
he would not go far: he would not bound headlong
on without stop or stay, as when his fine sense of
hearing warned him of danger being neai*, or the taint
284 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
of the hunter floated toward him on the air, streaming
over a sudden dip of the mountain. He was most
likely among the latschen, so we hastened back some
distance, and down the rocks, in order to meet him
should he come that way. But we saw no trace of
him, though every bush and spot was examined most
carefully.
" He cannot have passed, Neuner," I said : " he
must be among the latschen. Perhaps he is behind
that upright rock yonder ; I will go forward and see."
And leaving my long pole behind me, I went care-
fully through the latschen and looked over the preci-
pice. It went down quite perpendicular two hundred
feet, and from my pinnacle I had a good view around,
but saw nothing of the chamois.
We regained our ridge by climbing a steep, so long
and slippery that I was right glad when it was behind
us. We sat down to rest. Opposite was the Kramer,
and rising above this was the Zug Spitz range, grand
and mighty in its proportions, and the eye wandered
over those snowy peaks far away into the Tyrol. On
the left the Ettaler Mannl came peeping from amid
the verdure-covered rocks. My good friend Eranz
Kobell has sung his stern virtues ; but I was now
hungry, and so tormented with thirst that I cared
not one farthing about his virtues or anything else, —
/ wanted to drink. Water was not to be had ; 1 was
obliged therefore to mix some snow with a few drops
of rum and eat it. Neuner told me snow would only
make me more thirsty, but that I could not help, —
UP THE MOUNTAIN. 285
drink I must. We ate a crust of bread, and, as the
sun was shining warmly, we crept into a shady place,
with Bursch beside us, and all three had a sound
sleep.
In an hour we awoke, and on we went again. " A
buck ! a buck ! " flew suddenly from Neuner's lips ;
and with widely-opened eyes and his mouth screwed
up as though he were saying " Hush ! " though he
uttered not a breath, down he dropped, so as to pre-
vent his body being seen above the sky-line. We
crept forward on our stomachs, with hats off, gently
advancing our heads, till at last our eyes could just
peep over the ridge. There he was below us, and
a splendid fellow too.
f. " He is quite black," I whispered to Neuner ; " that's
a good buck indeed ! But how can we get near him?"
This was a question of painful interest. To be tor-
tured by the sight of such a capital chamois, within
my grasp as it were, and yet not be able to approach
him, was most distressing ; for in a moment my eye
reconnoitred the ground, and I saw all the difiicul-
ties of our position. Over the ridge where we lay
the descent was nearly perpendicular; latschen were
growing there abundantly, it is true, so that to climb
own would have been possible enough, but not noise-
lessly, and that was here a question of the last im-
portance. From out the depth before us, that went
stretching away more or less abruptly to the valley,
rose here and there a pile of rock hke the towers of
a cathedral, with latschen growing on its surface, or
286 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
starting from the gaps and crevices. It was on the top
of one of these rocks the buck was feeding. With
our glasses we looked down full upon his broad back.
" What a magnificent fellow ! If we could but get
him, Neuner!" I said, half inquiringly.
" Yes," he answered, " but how ? that 's the thing."
At first he was partly hidden among the latschen,
then his hind-quarters, quite black, emerged from the
dark green bushes, as he slowly moved on, perfectly
unconscious of our neighbourhood.
" I don 't see him now," said Neuner.
" But I do : look there, the black spot to the right
of that bare rock, — that 's he ! Here, take my glass."
" Ah, what a size ! Well, we had better go down
yonder to the left, and look if there is any possibility
of getting nearer : it will however be a long shot in
any case. Shall we try ? "
"Yes, of course, come along."
And we went to where the ridge dipped some-
what, but vet advanced thitherwards where the cha-
mois stood. Now came the latschen, — those dreadful
latschen through whose thick branches it is so difii-
cult to creep without a rustling noise. We stepped
with breathless caution. " Hush ! " said Neuner with
a long drawn-out breath ; " Hush — sh — sh ! — silently,
silently ! no noise, for heaven's sake ! " And holding
back the stubborn branches for each other, we pro-
ceeded slowly to the brink. Before us was a wilder-
ness of latschen, growing up from the abrupt steep,
and there was a deep hollow between the brink where
iUP THE MOUNTAIN. 287
stood and the tower-like rock where the chamois
as first seen. But now we looked and we saw him
not. Between us and the rock on which my every
hope was centered there rose another, hiding a part
of the first from view. I fancied the buck might be
just behind that rock, and whispered it to Neuner.
"If so," I said, "he will for certain come in sight
^ktgain on one side of it or the other;" for the nearer
crag, being less broad than the further one, hid just
the middle part from our sight.
" How far is it from here to yonder bare rock on
the left?" I asked; "it is there I expect he will
come."
" A hundred and forty yards ; not more I think,
but quite as much certainly."
Tor a long long time we waited, but in vain. At
last Neuner proposed to return to the ridge whence
we first saw the buck, and look if he was still there.
After awhile I saw him standing motionless on the
crest of the mountain, and gazing steadily into the
depth below. He made a sign that nothing more was
to be seen. This was certainly not cheering, but I did
not yet despond, and still believed the chamois was
on the rock and would eventually move into sight.
But another half hour dragged by, and then another,
and at last I reluctantly acknowledged to myself that
I gave him up. But as Neuner still stood on high
peering forth from his eyrie, I would not quit my
station, incommodious as it was to stand between,
and partly upon, the branches of the latschen. And
288 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
though in my heart I had given up all hope now, my
eyes were still fixed on the further rock ; when be-
hold ! from behind the nearer one the head of a cha-
mois appears — only the head — as he advances grazing.
It was on the right. And now he lifts his head, and
comes forward. His whole body is exposed; one
second only, and the report of my rifle thunders
through the mountains. He stops, turns, and goes
to the very spot where I expected he would come
first. It is terribly steep just there ; he stands some-
what bent together, ready to descend the rock's pre-
cipitous side. But he is hesitating. He must be hit!
The rifie is still at my shoulder, and the ball from the
left barrel ... "By Jove, it has hit him !" Down he
comes ; he can't stop himself, he rolls headlong over
the crag ! I watched him till he was out of sight,
and then drew a long deep breath. I looked up to
Neuner, and taking off my hat waved it in the air,
that he might know all was right. He swung his
gaily in return, and dashing along through the latschen
was soon at my side.
"Did you see him fall, Neuner?"
"Yes, but before you fired I saw nothing. When
you levelled your rifle I thought it was only a joke,
till the shot came, and afterwards the other."
To be doubly sure, I looked across with my glass,
to see if any blood was. upon the rock, but I could
discover none. Then came the doubts and anxiety;
yet at the same time I felt sure he was hit, and well hit
too. With some difficulty we clambered down to the
Cornp.v.TKloTScMt.
GedtitLJB Kuiiiis litkinstalt.M-uncliErL
iithnf.EEote.
UP THE MOUNTAIN.
289
foot of the rock ; I looked into the gulf, but could see
no trace of the animal.
^ " He must he in there, Neuner, — I am sure he must.
^fo chamois that was not badly wounded ever came
down a rock as he did. I '11 go down and look after
him."
B " No, you will not be able to get out again ; it is
impossible. Let us go lower down yonder, and look
up the gully."
We did so, and I stopped to load my rifle. Neuner
meanwhile ran forwards to a projecting crag, and by
his manner and the expression of his whole body I
knew he saw the chamois. At the same moment he
fired.
M " There he is J " he cried ; " he 's limping."
" " Stop, Neuner, I am sure he can't go far ; we shall
overtake him, and then we '11 let Bm^sch follow, and
he '11 bring him to bay." And down we ran, where
at any other time we should have gone with slow and
careful steps, and presently caught sight of him.
I" There he is ! "
" Let me fire ! " I cried ; " do you see him ? Ah,
ow I do, but the latschen half hides him. Now
he moves forward !" Fire ! — and down he rolls head
ijver heels. Bursch, who till now, though trembling
"in every limb vrith excitement, had restrained his despe-
rate longing, was unable to do so any longer. When
the chamois fell, he dashed forwards, baying, scream-
ing almost with passionate delight, and the chamois
id he were going down the steep together, and we
u
290 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
following as fast as we could go ; it was a headlong
race over loose stones of every size, slipping, stum-
bling, falling, and then sliding forwards several yards
with the loose rubble, my feet in front and my body
inclined backwards, leaning on my pole behind. Now
all was silent; Bursch had ceased his baying, so we
knew the chamois was dead. On the grass and rocks
were frequent stains of blood : but as we could not
see where the hound was, we whistled for him, and at
the same moment descried him beside the buck, which
had fallen close to the trunk of a half-decayed tree.
Then came the examination of our booty, and of the
different shots. One of the horns was gone, broken
short off close to the skull in rolling among the rocks
after the last shot. I was sorry, for they were high
and thick, and had in perfection that short curve pe-
culiar to the buck, which gives him so sturdy an air.
" Look, Neuner, here 's the first shot ; it has grazed
his back-bone badly — a Httle too high, though. No
wonder he stood so bent together after being hit ! "
"And this must be the second," said Neuner, ex-
amining another just behind the shoulder. " It was
that prevented his being able to hold himself up in
coming down the rocks."
" Well, I am very satisfied with both : that left barrel
of mine shoots capitally. Now then, let us pull him
out : — how heavy he is !"
And dragging him to a spot where it was less steep,
I gralloched him, and found him in capital condition
and as fat as possible.
291
CHAPTEE XXI.
HOMEWAEDS.
[oT far from where the chamois fell there gm'gled
a rivulet ; and when our buck was put into the riick-
sack, we sat down beside the pleasant water, and
mixing a cupful with a httle rum drank success to
the merry sport. Not that I was thirsty now, for
the excitement of the last two or three hours had pre-
^^ented my thinking about it; yet, thirsty or not, it
was right cheerful to sit on a mossy stone, rifle in lap,
with a good chamois to feast our eyes on, and to
taste the dehcious water that was playing round the
stones. But there was no time for luxuriating thus.
I "We must be going," said Neuner, "for it is a
ood way home; and if we wait much longer night
will overtake us before we reach the village."
"Let me carry it," I said, as Neuner was about
to sling his rucksack, with the chamois in it, on his
shoulders ; " I would rather, I assure you, — half-way
It least."
u 2
292 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" Oh no, it is nothing ; I have many a time carried
two roe-bucks, and have still gone on stalking, as
though I had nothing. Two I did not feel, — I did not
mind them at all. I have even done so with three,
and have carried home five. Sixty, eighty pounds,
I don't mind now, but more I should not much like.
"Yet that's a pretty fair weight to carry a long
time."
" Yes, but I am not what I once was : formerly I
cared for nothing ; — heat, or cold, or hunger, it made
little difference to me. I used to be out day after day,
and night after night, and did not return home from
one week's end to the other. But once I went out,
and in the evening, on reaching the hut where I in-
tended to sleep, found it full of snow; so I could
make no fire. I was in a profuse sweat, and of course
had nothing to put over me ; I got some brushwood
and made a bed on the snow, and lay down. The
next morning I felt ill, and went home; but I was
so cold and stiff that it took me a whole day to get
there. I have never been quite well since."
There were no signs of stiffness in his limbs now,
for on he went at a smart pace, despite the rough path
and the chamois at his back; and let me tell you,
dear Reader, a good buck hangs at your shoulders
with a very considerable dead weight.
In coming down a mountain, there is every now and
then some appearance which gives indication of your
approach to the valley ; and each one, as it shows you
are nearing your home, is welcome and makes you
HOMEWARDS. 293
glad. We came to a meadow affording capital pas-
tm-age, and strewn over it were the rude log-huts for
storing the hay*.
" Often enough at evening," observed Neuner, as
we stopped a moment or two for him to rest his load,
"often enough were stags to be seen here formerly.
The meadow, you see, is quite surrounded by the
■roods, and as the sun was going down they liked to
come forth and graze.''
" In Suabia too, where I have often been out stag-
shooting, it was the same. At Nietheim, not far from
Neresheim and Castle Taxis, there are magnificent
beech- woods ; and you might be sure of meeting five,
six, seven, or eight good stags about there in an after-
Bjnoon, grazing at one time under the trees. But not
a single deer is there now ; the woods are empty, their
inhabitants gone."
" Once, near Ettal, my brother saw twenty stags
all together in a pool," said Neuner. " He is forester
in that district, you know. It was in summer, when
the great horse-fly is very troublesome to them. An-
other time he met seventeen together. That was a
scene — such pushing, and rolling and fighting with
each other !"
^ "It must have been worth seeing," I observed.
"What a splashing, and how they must have been
r'ated with mud !"
* After tlie hay-maJdng the whole crop is put up in such log-huts,
and when winter comes and the snow is hard enough to bear, the
hay is piled on sledges and carried down to the village.
294 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" Bauer shot one there the other day, — ^just there,
between yonder woods, where you see a way cut
through them," said Neuner, pointing to a grassy
avenue leading from the smooth green meadow away
into the forest. " Game would quickly be here, if
there was only a little peace. The red-deer, that used
to quit their haunts at certain seasons, now stay and
drop their young here ; and in the rutting season the
stags have their appointed places too. For some years
this has been the case; formerly they never did so.
With a little quiet, I should soon have a fair stock
again, for all the places about here are favourable
for deer and chamois ; they can maintain themselves
on the mountains, and there are sheltered spots for
them in winter, just such places as they like. And
you see how beautifully all is connected, how all ad-
joins and hangs together : I would not wish a finer
forest, and it used to be my greatest delight ; but now,
I don't know how it is, all my pleasure is at an end."
" But things will change," I said; "be sure matters
cannot go on as they are now, — they must mend."
" Oh, you can form no idea of the endless disagree-
ables we have to go through. There are our master's
rights to defend; and if we do so, never so mildly,
then the peasants, every one of them, abuse us in all
possible ways. They think now they have a right to
everything : they want wood given them, or permis-
sion to collect litter* for their stables, and are greatly
* The peasantry in Germany collect the dead leaves in the forests
to make litter for their cattle in the stables in winter. Though of
Hh
||th
HOMEWARDS. 295
discontented if they do not immediately get what they
require. And yet these are the persons who have been
exterminating the game, and would not listen to reason,
and who refused every offer made them that was just
land fair. No, I 've enough of it ; my duties give me
ino pleasure now.''
" I well know what the peasants are ; formerly I
thought something might be done with them, but I
inow^ see it is quite out of the question. Besides, of
I the game here they had no reason to complain, for it
tdid them no harm, as is the case in the flat land. *"
course the forester does not mind their carrying them away, he can-
not give to each one indiscriminately permission to do so. Formerly,
when there were red-deer in the forests, the constant invasion of their
soHtude disturbed them ; for, as everybody knows, there is nothing
e deer value so much as quiet. Besides, the young wood might be
injured, or timber stolen, if every one were allowed to work for days
together in the woods merely for the asking.
* In the flat land the game, it is true, often did harm to the crops
of the husbandman. But when the damage was paid for — ^paid for
even beyond its value — ^the discontent of the peasant did not cease,
though many of them calculated on this indemnity as one source of
revenue. I have often seen potatoes planted on strips of ground on
the skirts of the forest, which no peasant would ever have thought
of tilling, had he not hoped to be able to show that deer had been
on his field, and so make a claim for loss sustained. The noble
proprietor of the forests bordering the Danube, in the neighbour-
hood of Donau Stauf, paid regularly every year a considerable sum
to the peasants as indemnity for the damage done to their crops by
e game ; and according as the price of com rose these sums were
increased. As the money received was generally more than adequate
to the loss sustained, the peasantry were satisfied, and found in the
arrangement no cause of complaint ; when suddenly, in 1848, although
the preceding years the indemnity received by them had been nearly
doubled, they discovered that such a state of things could exist no
longer ; and thus, supreme authority ceding to popular will, a general
extermination of game took place throughout the land. Now how-
I
296 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" To be sure not/' continued my companion ; " but
even my woods, which I always took such pleasure in,
they can't leave alone."
" What is it they do ?" I enquired.
" Did you not see, as we were going up the moun-
tain this morning, the bark peeled off several trees ?
Well, where the bark is off, a worm enters and de-
stroys the tree. I could show you places where there
are twenty or thirty in that state. The worst is, the
disease is infectious ; and when one tree has been
treated so, it is sure to spread to several others. I
think I should shoot a fellow if I caught him at it."
" But what is their motive ?"
"Malice, mischief, ill-will," he answered. "What
other motive could they have, as they gain nothing by
it ? And yet they want us to help them out with wood,
etc., and are mightily surprised and insolent if we say
a word. My trees used to be my great delight ; for
as to shooting the game, I don't care about that : it
never cost me an effort to see a stag or a chamois and
not to fire at it."
"And what is the price of venison?" I asked.
" Eight kreutzers a pound*. We are obliged to sell
it cheap, or we should not dispose of it at all. If we
ever, wlien too late, there is hardly one wlio does not regret the
change, and wish that " the good old times " would come again ; for
to many a peasant this indemnity was a source of revenue : — it was
a part of his income in fact, and, as such, entered into all his calcu-
lations.
* One-third of a penny less than threepence. Nine kreutzers are
equal to threepence.
HOMEWARDS. 297
ked more than the poachers, no one would take it,
o we are obKged to give it at the same price as they."
Rather hard this, for another to be underseUing
you with your own property !
^" Have any been out lately ?" I asked.
" Of course : why they are always out : it was not
mg ago Bauer met three men on the Enning, where
ou shot your buck today, — close by where we first
saw him."
• "As he dared not fire, he could not do much I
suppose."
" He took away the rifle of one, — that was all. The
thing was, he stalked close up to the man without his
perceiving him, and laid hold of his rifle. The fellow,
who was sitting on a rock, was terribly startled, and
slipped forward to get away : Bauer caught hold of
his rifle, and thought to get the man too, but he just
Bescaped."
K " And the others," 1 said, " what did they do ?"
" You see, when Bauer crept up to the one poacher
he did not know any others were there. He had not
observed them, for they were a little distance off.
But when he did, he had his rifle to his shoulder in
a moment, so they could do nothing but follow their
companion, and off they ran."
We now came in sight of the village and its Httle
homesteads, and broad fresh green pastures ; with
here and there a peasant-girl tripping along on the
dewy path, returning from Partenkirchen, or youth
whisthng gaily, or with a mouth-harmonicon feasting
298 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
his soul with music, as he Kngered abstractedly on
his way.
And now we are in the village, and the children
stop in their play, and the old people and youths and
lasses pause in their work as we pass, and look at the
good chamois that Neuner has at his back. And with
what feeling of inner satisfaction and delight you meet
the passers-by ! in truth you are glad they happen to
come that way just then, when the riicksack is freshly
stained and bulging out with its pleasant load. You
feel so cheery and light-hearted, so perfectly satisfied
with yourself, and, even if not so generally, I am quite
sure that now you cannot help being affable. But
does not success always make us happy ?
We took the buck to Neuner' s cottage, and his
sister stepped out to welcome us. Now came the
sweet words of gratulation, — sweet and gentle-sound-
ing ever, be the language what it may in which they
are spoken. Some of the hair was then pulled out to
make ^ gemshart ; it was jet black, but unfortunately
rather short. Six weeks later it would have waved
the whole length of his back in long and splendid
tufts. He weighed, when cleaned, 61^1b., and of fat
alone we took 5 lb out of him.
"There are calamities in authorship which only
authors know„" writes Charles Lamb to a friend ; and
just so with the sportsman — there is many a circum-
stance which he only can appreciate. All these little
incidents therefore I mention purposely; for, though
very trifling in themselves, they belong here, and it is
HOMEWARDS. 299
I such after all that contribute in no small degree to
make up the sum of the pleasures of the chase. Just
as the place where you follow the game, or the spot
where it falls, serves to enhance your delight, so the
length and colour of the beard*, the size or beauty of
the horns, the casual meeting with some forester or
friend as you are going downward with your prize
over your shoulders, — all these and a thousand other
chance events contribute to your pleasure, and swell
the amount of your enjoyment.
We were told that two shots had been heard on
the Oester Berg, the mountain that rises immediately
behind Farchant. It was probably Bauer, the under-
gamekeeper ; for he had gone out betimes that morn-
ing, and was not yet returned. Nor did he come later.
We supposed therefore that he had wounded a roe-
buck or a chamois, and would stay that night on the
mountain.
As I returned to my little inn, the whole village was
crowded with young heifers coming back from the
pasturage, each wearing round its neck a differently
toned bell ; and there was something very cheerful,
and far from discordant, in the sound. Hardly had
it ceased, when the evening bell, swinging slow and
steadily, again broke the silence, but added to the
repose, — reminding all, even the lonely wood-cutter in
his poor hut high up on the mountain, that it were
well to thank God for another day of life.
* The so-called " beard," be it remembered, is the hair gi'owing
along the ridge of the back.
300
THE ETTALEE MANNL.
" The Ettaler Mannl," or " The Little Man of Ettal,"
alluded to in the preceding pages, is a mountain that
closes in the vale of Ettal, and whose top consists of
an upright bare rock, which rises above the surround-
ing verdure, forming by contrast a rather conspicuous
feature in the landscape. This "Man" Kobell in a
little poem has invested with human attributes, and
makes him from his watch-tower look forth oyer the
the plain, to see if danger is approaching the land.
When I was last at Ettal it was with Kobell, and
the villagers told him that the words had been set to
music, and how a few nights before they had sung
them amid loud cheers and enthusiastic applause.
The dalesmen love their mountain all the more dearly
now ; they have identified themselves with *' The Old
Man of Ettal," since the poet has breathed upon him
and made him live.
E\}t (Ettaler JHannl
The Ettaler Mannl is strong and- stout,
His bones have a marrow of stone throughout ;
Cares not for wind or for tempest wild,
For he 's indeed a true mountain child.
The Ettaler Mannl sees far inland,
'Tis a fine look-out where he 's ta'en his stand ;
But what 's he watching, what is 't he will.
So earnest always, and always still ? .
THE ETTALER MANNL. 301
I '11 tell you what, — ^Le 's thinking, and heeds
What sort of life the Bavarian leads ;
If^still, as once, he is kind and good,
If still he 's warm'd by the same brave blood,
If still to his King he true be found.
That 's why the old fellow looks round and round ;
And should it not be so, then — Grod speed !
For days would follow of sorest need.
The Ettaler Mannl in awful size,
His gray cloak round him, doth now arise ;
A giant then you will find is he.
The like of whom none did ever see.
And with his feet and his arms of stone,
Makes such wild havoc as ne'er was known.
And on throughout the whole land the same.
Till clean once more from disgrace and shame.
The Ettaler Mannl still stands in peace.
All 's right as yet — there is nought amiss ;
So go on bravely, be good and true.
That this Man never have aught to do.
302
CHAPTER XXII.
THE OESTER BEEG.
At noon I started for Partenkirchen, and walked
straight to the forester's house to report myself. He
was not a little surprised at my good fortune. Then,
before going up the Oester Berg where Neuner had
seen two chamois lately, I went to the inn to get some
bread, a few lumps of sugar, in case I should wish to
make a glass of grog, and a couple of eggs for mixing
with my schmarren. The landlord's daughter — who,
although her wedding was near at hand and she
was busied the live-long day with three of her hand-
maids in marking, and hemming, and folding great
piles of linen for the household of which she was soon
to be mistress, was not always in the best of moods,
— met me as I entered. " Good day, Christina !" I
said ; " why, I expected a friendly greeting, — you
wanted a chamois, and I sent you one yesterday."
" Ah, good day !" she answered: " one hardly knows
you in your green hunter's hat and joppe."
THE OESTER BERG. 303
"The chamois was good, was it?"
"A capital one, — who shot it?"
" J "
" No, no ! that I don't believe."
" Now for your unbelief, Christina, you must give
me an apple to take mth me ; for I am going up the
Oester Berg, and dry bread makes a rather insipid
meal. So now for the punishment : come along to
the storeroom and put some of your best into my
riicksack, for part with your rosy apples you must."
What a storeroom that was ! well worthy of be-
longing to the richest man in the village, and a post-
master and landlord withal. It was a large stone-
paved room, light and cheerful and cool; and round
tthe walls were bright copper moulds, for miaking jellies
and cakes ; and a store of spoons, and plates, and jolly-
looking tankards, with huge flagons beside them, that
had many a time descended into the earth, and re-
turned thence foaming and sparkling and bright with
the rich treasures laid up there. And there were
mighty stone bottles standing on the dresser, in which
it was evident some rebellious spirit was enthralled,
for to make egress quite impossible the corks were
bound firmly down ; and mountains of butter on fair
white boards, and eggs in abundance; and binns
broad and deep, filled with coarse meal, and finer,
and the very finest flour. Loaves of freshly-baked
brown bread were piled on the shelves, each a good
five-pounder; and tongues shrivelled and smoked,
with fat sides of bacon, hung from a row of hooks ;
I
304 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and sugar-loaves, and dried fruits, and glass jars filled
with luscious syrups and preserves ; golden apricots
and red cranberries, with pots of lucent TyroHan honey
— all was there in generous overflowing abundance.
The fat of the land, dropping into many channels, had
been made to pour out its unctuous richness here.
It was worth seeing, that storeroom, — a rich granary
where the wealth of the earth was garnered up !
A good road leads a considerable distance up the
mountain : at last, between the hills a green valley
is seen, with a single solitary hut. But it was to
the "Hinteren Hiitte" — the hindmost hut — that I
had to go ; so crossing the meadow and following a
stony path, I soon saw smoke rising slowly, and mix-
ing with the mists which were gathering fast over the
landscape. It was growing dark, for I had tarried
too long at Partenkirchen, and the walk thence had
taken me two good hours.
I pushed open the unbolted door, and entered the
room on my right.
" Ha ! you are come at last," said Neuner, rising to
meet me ; " it is so late we had given you up."
" And glad I am to be here," I said ; " it is just be-
ginning to rain. I fear we shall have bad weather ;
the sky is overcast, and the clouds look very gloomy."
" Should it rain in the night so much the better, if
it is but fine in the morning. After rain the chamois
are on the mountain-tops. We want rain, for it has
long been too dry, and the chamois have kept low
down."
THE OESTER BERG. 305
I wiped the moisture from my rifle, and hung it up
against the wall ; and laying aside my rucksack and
thick shoes, was comfortable enough in the warm
room. The hut was rather a large one. It consisted
of the room where all sat, with a smaller one adjoin-
ing ; and on the other side was a kitchen, — that is to
say, a smoke-blackened place three or four yards long
by one-and-a-half or two in breadth, paved with rough
stones, and a rudely-raised hearth in the middle for
making fire. On the wall hung several large copper
saucepans for warming milk, and an iron frying-pan,
and this was all the furniture. But nothing could be
cleaner than these utensils ; they were as bright inside
as if they had been of silver. On entering the house-
door you went along a passage, leading to a shed or
sort of barn, which, though roofed over, was at one
end quite open to the weather. Here stood a large
horse-trough, into which a rivulet splashed and gurgled
unceasingly. At the further part of the shed was the
cow-house, and over this stable, immediately beneath
the roof, was the loft, crammed quite full with hay.
Here I was to sleep that night, and many a following
one. You scrambled up to it, by help of a rude ladder ;
and unless the pattering of the large rain-drops on the
shingle roof just above your forehead were to disturb
your rest, or the jingling of the cows' bells in the
stable beneath, or the noisy rustle of the water falling
into the trough, — sounds which most likely you would
not be accustomed to in your bedroom in town, — if,
I say, the novelty of all this did not keep you from
X
306 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
sleeping, you might pass as comfortable and warm
a night up there in, not on, the sweet hay, as in the
best chamber of the Clarendon.
In the room where we sat was the usual large
stove, and round it ran a bench, as well as along
the walls. There was one deal chair besides, and a
deal table, a clock, and a closet where the pans of
milk were placed, that the warmth might the more
quickly cause the cream to form in thick and luscious
layers*.
As it was late in the season the greater part of the
cows were gone into the valley, and with them "the
Swiss," or chief dairyman. The calves only were left
behind for some weeks longer, with cows sufficient
to furnish milk for them, and to make butter for the
three herdsmen who were still here. These had to
tend the cattle, cart the manure, and keep all in order.
The elder man, under whose orders the others were,
cooked for them, skimmed the milk, made the butter,
and managed all relating to their frugal housekeep-
ing. They lived on bread and milk and butter. Their
complexions, clear and bright as possible, gave evi-
dence of perfect health ; and many a lady might have
envied their transparent purity. Health shone from
the men's eyes : the lids were thin, and moulded them-
* I here saw a method of skimming milk that was new to me.
The dairyman took out a pan of milk, and passing his finger round
the surface, separated, as it were, the edge of the thick layer of cream
from the sides of the vessel ; then tilting up the pan, as if to pour
out the contents, and blowing the surface, it floated off, and tumbled,
almost in one piece, into the bowl put to receive it.
THE OESTER BERG. 307
selves to the ball of the eye, causing but the softest
outline.
m The younger of the three, a lad of about sixteen,
was sitting at the table playing at some nondescript
game of cards with two women who had been on
the mountains collecting gentian-roots*, and who had
come in to claim shelter for the night. The pale
flickering lamp gave a poor light, it is true, but the
youth's hearty laugh every now and then, at his own
good luck or scientific play, made the place cheerful.
It was a singular group; he on one side, his arms
and neck bare, and wild as a young colt, watching
with an arch expression for his adversary to fling
down her card, and one girl looking over the other's
shoulder into her hand, and giving her friend sage
counsel.
m^ A pan of milk had been put before me on my ar-
rival, part of which I had drunk. The herdsman now
asked me what I would have for supper, so giving him
the eggs I begged he would make me a schmarren.
He soon brought it in a large earthen pan, hot and
brown, and just savouring of the apple which had been
sliced into it. The young forester who had come with
Neuner shared it with me, alternately taking a spoon-
ful of schmarren out of my pan, and a spoonful of fresh
milk from another beside him. I preferred a draught
of water, a pitcher full of which " the boy," as he was
I
■ * These are collected in great quantities, and sold for the purpose
of distillation. The spirit obtained from them is in high repute : I
think it detestable.
X 2
I
308 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
called, fetched from the spring and put upon the table
before me. It was all very primitive, both the service
and the repast, — much, I imagine, like what might be
met with in a lonely log-hut in the backwoods of Ame-
rica, where the wilderness stretches away towards the
far west. But the service was rendered willingly, and
though "the boy" was bare-footed and bare-knee' d,
and had on but two articles of clothing, a thick shirt
and a pair of short breeches, there was nothing of
coarseness or vulgarity about him. Nature — simple,
God-fashioned Nature — had been, to him, as a mother,
and she had reared him in her own quiet way and
very unartificially, giving him no polish, for she had
herself none to give ; but she had moulded his heart
kindly, and his manner was fashioned after the simple
human feelings which had taken root there, though of
forms he indeed knew nothing. Por him the maternal
converse had done all.
It was too early to go to my hay ; and though the
herdsmen looked sleepy, and evidently thought we
were keeping recklessly late hours — it was at most
eight o'clock — I stayed where I was, and chatted
with Neuner about the chase, the mountains, and his
favourite forests.
" Have you shot many chamois this year, Neuner?"
I asked.
" No, I have shot nothing, but Bauer has — twelve
chamois and six roebucks."
" And in the Ammergau — do you know how many
they got this year ? A good number I suppose : as it
THE OESTER BERG. 309
is preserved for the King there must be plenty of game
there."
" Forty chamois have been shot ; but as to the stags
it is quite a riddle where all the good ones have gone.
Hardly a single good hart has been seen this year."
As we talked, one or the other of us mentioned
the Zug Spitz, and this reminded me I had long
wanted to get sonie information about the ascent,
which was difficult, and had been accomplished for
the first time only a few years before*.
" It is about five hours' walk from Partenkirchen to
the place where you commence the ascent," Neuner
told me, in answer to my questions ; " but it is too
late in the year to attempt it now. A cow-herd there,
■who is a sort of guide, has been up twice. 'Tis a
wild place at the top ! "
" What, have you been there?" I asked.
" Yes, I went up with the head forester and several
others. There are only two places which are ugly and
difficult ; one is a narrow ridge, a sort of bridge, which
you have to cross, with a precipice straight down on
both sides of you three-quarters of an hour deepf.
It is very horrible, there 's no denying that ; all looks
so wild, and rent, and torn. If you like you may ride
across astride."
"Did you do so?"
* It is very little less than 11,000 feet high.
t In Germany it is usual to compute thus % time, meaning in
this instance it would take three-quarters of an hour to arrive at
[the bottom.
310 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" No, I walked over : that I did not mind at all.
But the other place, near the top, is much worse : it is
a steep slope of ice ; we were obliged to cut steps with
a hatchet all the way, and got on well enough. But
the coming down is the worst, for if you slip there 's
an end of you."
"And no accident happened?" I asked.
" No, all went on well ; however we were obliged
to leave some of the party behind, one at the ridge
and three at the ice : they would not venture, and
waited till we came back. Luckily we had a very
fine day; the snow was quite hard in the morning,
but later it grew much softer."
"But, Neuner, the other day when I was at the
Ammergau, I heard that an idiot who wanders about
there had been up and alone ; is it true?"
" Yes, quite true : he has always had a passion for
ascending mountains, and sometimes he goes up one,
sometimes another. Once he came home and told
everybody he had been on the Zug Spitz. They
all laughed at him of course, for no one believed it.
This, it seems, hurt the poor fellow very much ; so off
he set, and after being absent several days, came home
again and told the people he had been up the Zug
Spitz, and that if they looked they would see a pole
at the top. No one believed the tale now more than
before ; yet when they looked with their glasses, there
sm^e enough was the pole stuck on the very highest
point."
" Yes," I said, " I have seen the pole : but how get
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 311
it up there ? And then, to find his way quite alone !
Why, it's almost incredible."
*'But quite true," replied Neuner, "for there was
no pole there before ; besides he described everything
exactly as it is. The most extraordinary part of the
story is that he went up barefoot, — the second time
at least, and the time before he slept on the moun-
tain. That he was not frozen to death is quite a
miracle."
" Did he teU where he got the pole, and how he
managed to carry it?"
" Oh yes," said Neuner, " we know about that.
The pole is a young fir : this he felled as far up the
mountain as possible, and then dragged after him aU
the rest of the way. Once he let it slip, and down it
rolled a considerable distance; but he returned, and
dragged it up again. And only think ! the poor fellow
had nothing to eat aU the time, for he merely took
a kreutzer-semmel (a penny roll) with him, which
dropped on the ice, and rolled away into some crevice
or hoUow. Since then he has been on the Spitz Berg
— the only person, I believe, who ever was there ; and
he says it is so frightful that he will never go again,
but the Zug Spitz he does not mind attempting. He
has been on the Wetter Stein too, and on nearly all
the peaks you see of that range."
The gentian-gatherers had been gone some time,
the neatherd had been lying asleep on the bench be-
side the stove since he had cooked my supper, and I
began to think it would be as well to turn into my
312 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
resting-place. The peasants stood up, the elder one
said a prayer, which the others repeated aloud after
him, and then all knelt to say the Lord's Prayer.
Wishing me good-night they went up a ladder behind
the stove, and disappeared through a trap-door, their
beds being above the room where we had been stay-
ing. Neuner preferred lying down on a bench in the
warmth. Being unacquainted with the locality, the
young forester went before me with a lantern, and we
thus proceeded to the shed and up the shaky ladder
to our dormitory. The loft was nearly filled to the
roof with hay. We stepped and tumbled along over
the fragrant heaps, and, aided by the dim light, I soon
made myseK a right cozy nest. I pulled down great
masses of hay from the pile beside me, and my com-
panion flung whole armfulls over my body. Except
my head, which rested on a cloth thrown over the hay-
pillow — I owed the luxury of the cloth, by the bye,
to the thoughtfulness of the neatherd — not an inch of
me was to be seen. I was as warm as possible.
"Why, there are the two women!" exclaimed the
young forester in surprise, holding up his lantern.
They were lying close to us, but like myself so tucked
up we had not observed them.
" No matter," I said, " as long as they do not snore :
that is all I care about. Good night !"
313
CHAPTEE XXIII.
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN.
I AWOKE early the next morning, and groping my way
clambered down the ladder. It was three o'clock, and
as dark as pitch ; and the gusts of cold damp air came
creeping round my bare knees, which just before had
been imbedded so warmly. Outside there was a
drizzling rain, and mist, and impenetrable blackness ;
in short, to tell the honest truth, it looked miserably
wretched. With such weather there was Httle pro-
spect of success, and with — I don't know if it was a
sigh, a groan, or a growl of discontent — I drew back
my gloomy face, and went into the room to lace on
my shoes. This done we took our rifles and started.
Most persons, doubtless, have walked out in a dark
night ; but if they have only done so on a tolerably
smooth road, they will have but an imperfect notion
of the unpleasantness attending every single step
when the path is strewn with large stones, loose frag-
ments of rock, broken up into holes or intersected by
314 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
rivulets. You do not see where you are stepping, and
thus often plant your foot so as to slip down a bank
and let the water fill your shoes brimmingly. This
however does not much matter, it is true, for it soon
bubbles out again ; but in going up a steep and slip-
pery mountain it is fatiguing, hindersome, and even
dangerous to find yourself stumbling over unseen ob-
structions, or your nailed shoes sliding from under you
down a slanting surface of stone. The angle up which
you are going being pretty acute, down you come on
such occasions on both hands, and, what is far more
annoying than having your knees driven into the earth
or among the stones, your rifle flies round your shoulder
and descends with no little force upon the ground.
This always went far to put me in a passion. On such
occasions my first thought was my rifle ; and if unable
to see, I would feel, if all was in order.
We went up in a straight line for some time ; at last
Neuner said we should soon have better ground. We
could now just see black patches, like blots, through
the gloom, and soon these grew into distincter outlines,
becoming trees and latschen. There was a rude path
in the neighbourhood that led to the summit, but how
discover the exact spot ? Amid stunted bushes, look-
ing one hke another, and patches of torn-up rock, and
gravel, and stones, it was difficult in the dusk to find
the place.
" Yonder is the dead tree," said Neuner, " and the
path is to the right, a little higher up."
" I think it is nearer the tree than where we are,"
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 315
answered the other, " and near thick clumps of latschen.
Wait a moment," he added to me, " I '11 go straight
on, and do you, Neuner, keep the right. We shall
soon find it."
Presently a whistle told me the path was found,
and going straight toward the sound, we all three
proceeded one behind the other. As we neared the
summit, the grey rock and snow appeared through the
dun clouds, and below us mists were floating, which
shut out the living world from view.
The north side of the mountain, as is always the
case, wore a totally diff'erent aspect. The line of the
ridge was the boundary of two distinct regions. Prom
the summit we now looked down upon sharp points ;
all was broken and wilder in character than on the
side where we had mounted. We went downwards,
and wound along the slanting face of the rock ; here
and there stepping along a mere ledge, formed by
a projecting layer of stone, our bodies slanting out-
wards toward the rocks and away from the preci-
pice*. And now we mounted again, and reached
the top of Henneneck. The vapours had before par-
tially cleared away, but they now swept by beneath
oiu- feet, and we looked down on cloud, on dimness,
and uncertainty. Close to us, a yard or so down-
wards, the traces of chamois were discernible in the
snow; but they were old — some days old perhaps.
* The clouds were just below our feet, so that it was impossible
to see beyond ; but for this circumstance, it might have been less
pleasant to walk along that ledge.
316 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
Beyond lay a world of shadows, where no eye could
penetrate. Suddenly the forester exclaimed, " There ^s
a chamois !" I saw nothing; but a moment after from
out the mist and cloud came the sound of a rolling
stone, and as we listened we heard it bounding on till
at last it was no longer audible.
We found but one new track of game in the snow,
the others were all old. The place seemed forsaken.
We still went on, and, creeping up a shoulder of the
mountain, looked over into a hollow spread with ver-
dure — for the mists had sailed away just then — in the
sure hope of seeing some animal life; but our eyes
swept over every inch of ground in vain.
It was now six o'clock, and I was glad to breakfast.
A slice of brown bread and one of Christina's apples
furnished the meal. I relished it much, for I was very
hungry. Before us rose the Bishop, a mountain of
grey rock, on this side almost entirely covered with
snow.
"Was that a good place for chamois formerly?" I
asked.
'■ No, never," replied Neuner ; " but farther down
was one of their favourite haunts. Yonder runs the
boundary-line which divides the chase belonging to
the Eschenlohe peasants from that of the King. They
come across, and leave the game no rest : you may
hear shots cracking, all the year round ; in season or
out of season, it is quite the same to them. Here
we shoot the does too, because if we did not, t/ie^
would; so, you see, we are ourselves obliged to clear
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 317
these mountains of the game; indeed all along the
boundary we are forced to destroy it."
On such a day as this it is impossible to calculate
with any certainty vipon a favourable change in the
weather. The appearances around vary from one
moment to another. Suddenly the mists come trail-
ing by, and bits of floating cloud, smoke-like and va-
poury ; and in a second all is shut out from your sight.
A damp, cold, dull clogginess, like thickened air,
hangs before your face ; you feel it sticking to you ;
and to see your comrade beyond two paces' distance
is impossible. Even then he looms towering through
the fog, an indistinct spectral shape. Every landmark
has disappeared ; there is not one single thing for the
eye to seize and hold by, and this soon produces a
disquieting sensation. All stabihty seems gone, and
your nature is not used to this. Then you discover
that the eye, as well as the footstep, needs firm ground
to move over ; it must have something to lay hold of,
and it peers around with a straining intensity into the
sluggish, thick vacuity, but finds nothing.
It soon began to rain, and so heavily that we re-
solved to descend. On our slippery way down we
found here and there the genuine Iceland moss. At
last we reached a hollow, where the hut of a wood-
Jcutter was standing, and, rude as it was, it proved a
welcome shelter. We were aU wet to the skin. The
younger forester took off* his joppe, and wrung the
water from his shirt-sleeves : he complained of being
cold ; however I did not feel so, and lying down on
318 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the bed of dry leaves, with my face toward the open
door, watched the mist and rain so long that at last I
fell asleep. After the rain it grew somewhat clearer,
and in going along we could see down into a green
valley.
" Once upon a time five good stags were there,"
said Neuner, pointing to the glen.
" It was hereabout that Bauer shot his stag, was it
not?" asked the other.
" Yes, just there, near yonder steep bank."
"And who shot the others?" I asked.
" Oh, poachers no doubt," said Neuner, " for they
soon disappeared. Perhaps they were scared away
and shot somewhere else; however we saw none of
them."
" And did you never meet any of the men when you
have been out on the mountain ?"
" No ; and had I caught one and brought him to
the police, it is a hundred to one that he would have
been punished."
" There was a keeper at Schlier See — Bromberger
was his name — ^he once met a whole band of poachers,
and among them was a notorious rascal ; he therefore
thought it better not to lose so good an opportunity,
but to make sure of him, and, picking him out from
the rest, sent a bullet through his body."
" That was in the old times perhaps. It was by
far the best way. The poachers expected nothing
else: they risked their lives, and we risked ours;
they knew beforehand that should we happen to meet
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 319
one of them, he was a dead man, and in some places
they treated us in the same manner. As I said,
both parties expected nothing else : neither com-
plained; and if such a poacher got a full charge of
swan-shot in his body when one of us caught him
carrying off a roebuck or a chamois, he never laid a
complaint or said a word about the matter, knowing
very well he ought not to have been there, — that it
was his own fault, and that he deserved the punish-
ment. He was aware of what he risked before he
went out ; but as he could not gratify his passion
without the danger, why, he was content to take the
venture as he found it."
"But what was the story of Bromberger?" asked
the younger forester.
"Why," said I, "the thing happened thus: — a
friend of mine, young Count D * * *, who was with
Bromberger at the time, has often told me the story.
They were out together, looking for chamois : while
sitting on the mountain and peering around, they
suddenly perceived several men below the ridge, a
good distance off, and, like themselves, watching for
game. Their glasses were out in a moment, and one
of the band was recognized as a noted poacher of the
name of Hofer. At the sight of him the keeper's
blood began to flow quicker, for this fellow was known
as the most daring in the whole neighbourhood, and
the blood of more than one forester was on his head.
Solacher had fired at him once, but missed. Brom-
berger waited to see what they would do. After a time
320 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the men rose and came along a path leading to the
ridge where the two were sitting. The whole band
presently emerged from the hollow, and stood exposed
on the summit of the mountain, with Hofer a little in
front. Bromberger could not resist the temptation,
and determined to have a shot at him; so laying a
handkerchief folded together on the rock to serve as
a rest for his rifle, he prepared to fire. 'It is a
long distance,' he said, turning to his companion,
who, with the glass to his eye, was waiting to ob-
serve the effect of the shot ; ' so I '11 aim rather high,
and somewhat to the right, to allow for the wind com-
ing up from below. If I take him just between the
shoulder and throat, you will see I shall hit in the
very centre of his chest !' And a second after the rifle
cracked, and down rolled the poacher, with the ball
crashing through his shoulder. As you may imagine,
the consternation of the others was indescribable.
Bromberger and young D * * * waited just long
enough to see the men carry off their wounded com-
rade, and then creeping into the latschen, stole away
down the mountain, leaving the poachers at a loss to
tell whence the shot had come."
" You said just now he had a narrow escape once
already: what was it?"
" Yes," I continued, " and it was not long before.
The forester at Schlier See caught him in a hut where
he passed the night, and had him tried for poaching ;
but he got off, as usual, without being punished."
" How was it he got him? Was Hofer alone?"
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 321
" No, there were two of them. The other was as
great a rascal as he — Nicolaus Angel by name, or
Anni Klaus as they called him. But I must begin
at the beginning. Not far from SchHer See is an Aim
— the Stocker Alp — and Andreas, the peasant who
was there during the summer — or Stocker Ander'l as
he was named — was an honest fellow, and one who
could be trusted. The foresters used to keep their
meal there sometimes ; and even when he was gone,
and the hut was empty, they would leave their frying-
pan or other things stowed away in some secret place.
Well, they knew that Hofer occasionally passed the
night in this hut, when out on his poaching excur-
sions ; so they asked Ander'l if, when he came again,
he would let them know ; for they had often tried to
catch him, but never were able. One night he came
as usual, and Anni Klaus with him. The herdsman
had only a boy in the hut beside himself; but when
the two poachers were asleep up among the hay, the
boy crept through the window and ran off as fast as
he could to Neuhaus — it is on the road to Fischbachau
you know — to tell the forester that Hofer and Nico-
laus were in the hut. It happened that none of the
keepers were at home, so he took with him two of the
Grenz Jager*, who were stationed there, and set off.
When he got to the hut, he left the two men to watch
outside ; and then making a great noise, spoke roughly
* Custom-liouse officers, who patrol along the frontier, to prevent
smuggled goods being carried across. They are in fact preventive-
service men, but in arms and accoutrements are quite like our E-ifle
corps.
Y
322 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
and told Andreas to get up and make him a fire,
that the poachers might not suspect he was in league
with the forester. On looking round he saw the two
guns and the poles which the men, strangely enough,
had left hanging on the wall near the hearth; and
pretending to inquire whose they were, got some
evasive answer from Andreas. This, he said, did not
satisfy him ; he suspected all was not right, and would
search the hut. So he went up, and groping among
the hay, seized hold of the two men's feet, and in this
way he pulled them out of their hiding-place. As
they had left their rifles below, instead of taking them
with them when they went to lie down, they could do
nothing. The thing was, I suppose, they felt so sure
of being safe in the hut that they did not mind going
to bed without their guns."
" Well, but how did they escape ? What happened
to them afterwards?"
" The forester, who was somewhat hasty, could not
wait till it was broad day, but in his impatience set off
with his prisoners at once. It is true they were bound,
but not together ; and, as they were going down, Anni
Klaus made a spring, dashed into the bushes, and
was out of sight in a moment."
"And the other, Hofer, what became of him?"
" He was examined, but, as is always the case, he
denied everything. The powder in his pocket he said
he had found, and invented a story about looking for
a goat that had strayed, to account for his being on
the mountain. Of course he would not confess, and
he got off" scot-free."
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN. 323
Chatting thus as we went along, we forgot the wet
and the rugged stony path. Everywhere something
of interest to the hunter was to be recounted: the
story of an adventure with a poacher, a spot pointed
out near which a certain good chamois had been shot,
or where, in other days, the red-deer might always
certainly be seen just as the sun was getting up over
the opposite peaks.
Prom afar we now perceived the meadow on which
our hut lay. It was still a good distance off, but the
smoke was circling upwards over the brown roof, and
the grass looked green, and it was cheerful to see the
like after the wildness we had left. Moreover, as we
went along, I was thinking all the while of the warm
breakfast I would cook myself as soon as we arrived
there, and of the snug room where I could hang up
my clothes to dry.
Were people to reflect about it, they would often be
surprised at the pleasure which, under certain circum-
stances, the commonest sights are able to afford them.
When therefore the traveller recounts, and dwells upon,
some trifling incident — a mere sound perhaps — he
shoidd not on that account be set down as trivial. It
was not a trifle to 1dm. You will perceive this when
you have been a whole day among the rocks, and at
last chance upon a spot whence you happen to see
smoke curling in the air. Your heart bounds at the
sight ; and though as yet you have not even a glimpse
of the hut whence it proceeds, in thought you are
already in the human habitation. From that moment
Y 2
324 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
there is an end of your loneliness, — that handful of
blue vapour has filled up the distance which separated
you from your kind.
And when the mists suddenly clear away, and show
you a patch of green, and hard and determined out-
lines — it matters not of what — how beautiful you think
them! and your gladdened eye flies to the place to
ahght upon it, after having been for hours unable to
find one little spot of earth whereon to rest.
When we reached the hut, the first thing as usual
was to look to the rifles ; and then taking off the heavy
shoes, soaked with rain like all the rest of my things,
I went into the kitchen to see after the bread and milk,
or " milk soup*," as the peasants here call it. I found
the neatherd with a large mass of delicious butter in
his hands, just made. In a few minutes I had a
blazing fire crackling on the hearth, and while a pan
full of creamy milk was boiling, the brown loaf was
sliced into the pan in readiness. It was ten o'clock,
and I had been out since three ; so that, when at last
the frothing milk was poured over the bread, and I
had carried it into the room, and sat there comfortably
drying in the warmth, I enjoyed to the full the luxury
of that plentiful repast. The herdsman too brought a
* There ought to be a lump of butter put into the hot milk to
make the genuine " milk soup," and the cow-herd wanted very much
to fling in a piece. He was surprised I could think of eating it
without a pinch of salt being added, " for," said he, "if you don't
put any, the milk t\t11 be quite sweet." He looked rather astonished
when I told him that was just what I liked, and by his manner I
saw he thought my taste a barbarous one, though he did not say so.
MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN.
325
large piece of the fresh-made butter on a clean board,
and fetching a pinch of salt, put it down with the loaf
on the table before me. What could man desire more ?
There is positive happiness in such a meal, and I can-
not think that any one, who had himself known the
luxury of appeasing his hunger with warm food when
cold and famishing, would ever turn away unkindly
from the starving wretch asking alms to buy himself
bread.
As the weather was still bad we remained at the
hut. There was an old almanack lying in the window,
containing a really interesting account of Napoleon's
stay on* board the Bellerophon. Some one, they told
me, had brought it up and left it there.
By the time I had finished my story the rain ceased ;
the blue sky again was visible, and we left the hut and
turned our steps homewards.
326
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE OLD BUCK.
Should you ever go up the Oester Berg, you will see
on your right hand, quite at the top, and just before
you arrive at the first meadow, a little wooden chapel,
with a rude bank before it, in order that the passer-by
may there kneel and pray. We had just reached this
spot, talking as was our wont of matters that most
interested us, when Neuner, suddenly stopping in
his story, exclaimed, " There 's a chamois ! Come on,
don't stop !" he said, as I lagged behind to examine
the mountain- side and discover where he was. A few
steps further, and we reached the bench beside the
chapel, whence with our glasses we could watch the
animal without his observing us.
"Where is he, Neuner?"
"Look," he replied, "you see that long strip of
geroU coming down from the latschen; well, to the
right is a black spot, — that 's he."
" Ah ! now I see him ; he is looking down at us."
THE OLD BUCK. 327
" Yes, he heard us talking ; but who would ever
have thought of his minding it at such a distance?
The thing is, the chamois have grown unusually shy
from being hunted about wherever they go. They
never have any peace ; the peasants are firing eternally,
and even though they may not hit them, the noise
scares and makes them as wild as possible."
" 'Tis a capital buck," I observed, examining him
with my glass. "Now he is going: he is turning
round, and will soon be among the latschen. Now
he stops again, — just in the middle of the geroU.
How capitally I see him now ! He is looking down
at us again. What can he be afraid of!" And at
once he disappeared among the rocks and bushes.
What was to be done ? To reach the spot where
he had been standing would take, at the very least,
three-quarters of an hour — besides he was gone ; and
though, from the way in which he left the open space
for a covert, I judged he would not be very distant,
still it was an impossibility to reach the rocks above
him without being heard, they were so steep and
difficult.
. " The only thing would be," said Neuner musing,
"to wait for him up there. He is often where we
just now saw him ; a little higher or lower, as may be,
but still in the neighbourhood."
" Do you think he will be out again this evening ?
Far off he is not, of that I am certain ; most likely in
among the latschen, under the wall of rock to the left,
for he went away quite leisurely."
328 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
" No, he probably is not far, but whether he will
be out again this evening. is a question; besides,"
continued Neuner, looking up to the rocks just over
the spot where the chamois had been standing, " the
way up there is most difficult. It is no joke, I assure
you. There is but one place where you can pass, just
above the geroU yonder, past the latschen, and so over
the ridge of the mountain : that is the only way out.
You have to creep up between and under the crags : 'tis
an awkward place, and you see there are no latschen
the greater part of the distance."
While I listened to him I was examining the places
he was describing with my glass, following him step
by step, and looking out to find which would be the
best spot to attempt the passage. Once on the com-
manding crag jutting out over the vale, I should com-
mand the whole space where the chamois would be
likely to pass, and should have a fair though perhaps
a long shot, as he sauntered about on the patches of
verdure, or sunned himself on the blocks of stone.
"I see the place where it would be most likely I
could get up," said I to Neuner : "the rock is steep,
and the ledge in one part very narrow, but still I
think I could manage it."
" Bauer was there once, and said it was extremely
difiicult, but I dare say you could do it ; however,"
he added, after a moment's reflection, " I have been
thinking it would be better to try for him in another
way. We will go round the mountain, and you,"
turning to the young forester who was with us, " you
THE OLD BUCK. 329
wait here an hour, and then go up to the ridge, and
keep along it for a good distance. Afterwards you
must cHmb along the steep wall of rock above where
we shall be standing, and come out at the further end.
Make as much noise as you like, but do not start for
a full hour. Let me see : it is twelve now by my
watch, — at one you can set off; you will want an hour
to reach the top."
" Yes : full that," said the young fellow ; " 'tis
scrambling work there, but in about an hour I can
do it."
We went on, and presently were going to quit the
path and enter the wood, but Neuner thought it was
better to keep even still further down before doing so.
" He may see us," he said, " for the forest has been
rather thinned here. I know that buck well : he is a
most cunning fellow, and so shy that it is the most
difficult thing in the world to get near him. Bauer
shot at him once, but missed : he has been shot at too
by the poachers, so that he is as wary as an old fox."
" Is that his usual haunt where we saw him today?"
"Why he changes his place pretty often. Some-
times he is opposite on the left-hand side, when no
cattle are there ; sometimes he will wander round to
the Ericker. He ought not to have gone away just
now, far below him as we were ; but that comes from
being shot at so often."
We looked at our watch, and found that we had
fifty minutes to get to the place where I was to stand ;
by that time he whom we left behind would be on
330 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the move. Twenty minutes — forty — fifty minutes —
at last we are there, but it was good climbing to ac-
complish it in that time. Just above where we stood
an isolated crag rose from the steep side of the moun-
tain. " There you will take your stand/' said Neuner ;
" you have a good view below and above you, and if
the buck is not gone he will be sure to pass down
here when he hears footsteps coming up the other
side. Look ! you see those loose stones : he will cross
those, and you can fire as is most convenient, either
then or as he passes lower down. But all that you
know without my telling you ; so clamber up and
choose your place, and keep a sharp look-out, for by
this time my comrade will be on the move." And
thus saying he left me, to take his stand somewhat
higher, nearer the summit.
With my heels well in the earth, so as not to shp
forward, I sat down, rifle in hand, where I could com-
mand the depth immediately below on my right hand,
and at the same time see far up the mountain — ^indeed
nearly to the sky-line. I was gloriously enthroned.
To my left the piled-up mountains, grey or snow-
covered, with the magnificent Zug Spitz forming the
last outwork of the impassable barrier, and the peaks
of all just veiled with a thinly -woven cloud ; before me
the whole declivity, with broken rocks and precipices
and green bushes, stretching downwards to the vale ;
Farchant, with its red church-spire, its cottages, and
road and river ; while further off across the pasturage
was Garmisch, at the foot of the Kramer. To the
THE OLD BUCK. 331
right there was a sweet sight. Through a dip in the
mountain the high vale of Ettal appeared, — a beau-
tiful expanse of green-sward, and the stately church
too was seen ; and behind this peep in the mountain
other distinct peaks were visible, gradually sloping
downwards to the plains, and losing themselves at last
in the flat land beyond. I looked on all this from my
rocky throne, and the sight and the feeling of self-
rehance, and of strength in every limb, filled my whole
frame with a thrill of exhilarating gladness. And over
my broad domain — for mine it was, but without the
care of governing — there lay a murmuring stillness;
the hum of life that breathed and moved below me
in the vale, — of distant cataracts reverberating among
the hollow rocks : it hung in the air, or rather was
inwoven with it. It was a very different stillness
from that of the high desolate mountain -peaks ; for
there it is a palpable thing, which clings to your heart
and oppresses your chest by its weight ; and it comes
upon you surely, like the chill of death, that creeps
along the limbs, and cannot be evaded, despite your
inmost striving and endeavour.
It has often occurred to me, when thus looking
down upon a land, how solemnly sad must have been
the feelings of Moses when he went up from the plains
of Moab to the top of Pisgah, the highest point of the
mountains of Nebo. Though he was an old man, how
must his heart have swelled at what he saw, — the
Jordan and the groves of palms, and the fat pasturages
of Basan stretching away into the distance ; the moun-
332 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
tains with the thick oak-woods of their valleys, and on
the plain the herds of the Tribes, while before him he
looked over "The City of Palm-trees," Jericho, and
away " unto the great sea toward the going down of
the sun :" and then the remembrance that he was
gazing on that earth for the last time ! But, above
all, how in that mountain solitude must he have felt
his loneliness ! There is to me something quite over-
whelming in the thought of going up unto a moun-
tain to die. It is an almost superhuman act, worthy
indeed of a Prophet, — of one " whom the Lord knew
face to face ;" — ^but is not for the men of this gene-
ration.
I sat here with my hand on my rifle for an hour
and a half ; but the minutes did not pass laggingly :
I was all attention, and eye and ear were watching
for the slightest circumstance that might betoken the
approach of a chamois. Moreover I would every now
and then cast a look at the world at my feet, and let
the grandeur and the loveliness fill my heart. Pancy
besides was busily at work, as is ever the case with
the hunter when awaiting the approach of game. At
such times, what pleasant visions pass before his brain ;
what delicious hopes that may he realized ! The buck
I was expecting was not only a good one, but a well
known one too. He had been pursued by several,
and all had failed to obtain the prize. Many were the
shots that had been fired after him, but they all had
missed. He had become notorious by his escapes :
he was quite an historical personage. And should
THE OLD BUCK. 333
he now come — yonder, for example, near those stones
— and I be lucky enough to bring him down, how
proudly should I return home and relate that the old
buck had at last fallen ! Then too, in after times,
when the keepers would talk of their exploits, and of
the noble stags or sturdy chamois that had fallen here
or there, — each one remembered as accurately, with
place and date, as a succession of monarchs, — then
would this famous buck be mentioned, and they would
tell how he had been often followed in vain, and how
at last "the Enghshman*" brought him death.
And these fine imaginings were all I had, for no
chamois came. At length, high up among the latschen
the young forester appeared, making his way down-
ward as well as he was able : he had seen nothing, it
was therefore evident the wary old buck had betaken
himself to some remoter stronghold.
Such a place as that where I was watching is my
deHght — ^is the delight indeed of every hunter; for
from it I could have seen the game, had any come, long
before it reached me. And this is always pleasant ; not
only because it gives you time for preparation, but on
account of the delicious excitement you feel in every
vein, from the moment you espy the coming creature
till that other moment when you feel it is your own.
Your hopes, your fears, your longings — all that makes
up the sum of the enjoyment — is thus heightened by
being prolonged. You watch its approach with greedy
eyes, and full of anxieties : the excitement would choke
* ** Der Herr Englander," as the people always named me.
334 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
you if it lasted long ; yet two such minutes — and they
seem hours — are worth whole ordinary days.
The flutter and nervousness felt by him whose whole
heart is in the chase, when he first is in presence of
the stag, is a curious psychological phenomenon. The
Germans have a special name for this state, and call
it " Hirsch Fieber" (Stag fever). The excitement you
are in quite lames you. Of course it varies in degree
with different persons, according to temperament, and
the phlegmatic will probably never experience it at all.
In me it showed itself in the highest degree. When
I heard the rush of the stag among the branches, or saw
him approaching at a distance, my heart began to beat
audibly, my breath came quickly, every limb trembled,
and I felt half suffocated. To take a deliberate aim
was of course impossible, for my rifle rose and fell
like a bough swayed by the wind. But I remember
one instance in which a sort of magnetic influence
seemed to be exercised over me. I was waiting for
a stag on the edge of the covert. Presently I heard
something rustle, and the fever began ; but only a kid
leaped by, and I was calm again. Soon after I heard
the step of the stag, and in another second his majestic
head looked forth from the green branches. On he
came towards me, down a gentle slope, slowly and
unaware of my presence. The rifle had been raised
when first I heard his approach, and it was levelled
still; the hair-trigger was set, and a, breath almost
would have been suflicient to move the trigger; my
finger too was upon it, and I wished to pull, yet for
THE OLD BUCK. 335
some cause or other I was unable to do so. There I
stood, the magnificent stag opposite me, and I charm-
struck and spell-bound. The slightest movement of
the finger would have been enough, hut I could not
move it ; and only when he had disappeared, did my
fast-clenched teeth relax, and I drew a long breath
and felt myself relieved.
Since then I have understood the power of the snake
over other animals ; how by fixing its eyes on a bird
or rabbit the prey will become so fascinated as to be
helpless for escape, but awaits the monster's approach,
and even walks into his jaws. The influence, it is true,
is not quite the same in both cases ; for in the hunter
this want of power to execute his will does not arise
from fear, but is probably merely an intense anxiety
not to miss the mark, — a violent struggle between sud-
denly aroused emotions. In time the "fever" wears off";
yet occasionally, though you flatter yourself you are
grown stoically calm, and that an old sportsman like
you is not to be disturbed by such freaks and fancies,
— occasionally, I say, if you are kept long in suspense,
you too will get the "fever;" — you will feel it laying
hold of you in spite of all your efforts to shake it off *.
I do not remember any allusion to this extreme
state by English sportsmen. They acknowledge being
" nervous ;" nothing however transpires of chattering
* I know a forester who has never been able to get over it. I
once saw him when we were out together after a stag. " He's com-
ing ! he 's coming ! " he stammered, as he caught sight of antlers
between the trees, and his eyes stared, and he trembled as though it
had been a ghost.
336 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
of teeth, of gasping for breath, or of violent trembhngs
throughout the whole body ; yet I do not doubt that
the presence of the red-deer of Scotland may have the
same potent charm as that of his German compeer;
and I am quite sure, if it ever were my good fortune
to get a day's stalking in the Highlands, that such
a sight as Sir Edwin Landseer has shown us in his
" Drive" would set my heart beating exactly as of old.
It was now three o'clock, and we turned our steps
downwards ; but still, not to give up a chance, we de-
termined to have a look in a deep ravine that yawned
like a terrific gash in the mountain's side. It ex-
tended almost to the very summit, — jagged, deep, and
frightful. Hither, Neuner said, the chamois loved to
resort ; it was a quiet spot, or rather one undisturbed
by human neighbourhood ; but the roar of the near
waterfall resounded in the chasm. We cautiously
climbed down towards the brink, and looked over
and around. Every crag was minutely examined with
scrutinizing eye ; our gaze pierced among the stunted
shrubs and the withered stems of ghastly-looking
skeletons of trees ; and then we looked high, high up,
where the mountain had been torn, and where the
savage rent had left a perpendicular wall of glaring
stone. But all was without sign of life, — not a crea-
ture was to be seen. We were still looking, when a
sharp whistle came across to us over the broken hollow.
We started, and each looked at the other in surprise ;
and then, with widely-open eye and with head bent
forward, gazed and stared toward the rocks whence
THE OLD BUCK. 337
the sound proceeded. It was a chamois that had ob-
served us ; but none of us could see anything. At
last I did : "There !" I whispered eagerly, and pointing
straightforwards across the chasm.
"Beyond the first or the second ravine?" asked
Neuner.
" Beyond the second."
"I see it ! " he exclaimed almost immediately.
"A doe !" said the younger forester.
We watched a long while, and the chamois sprang
up the rocks, and then stopped to browse : it seemed
no longer afraid. Any attempt to reach it was out of
the question ; for had it not been so far off, we could
only have stalked it from below, and the hollow that
separated us was so deep and difficult that, even if
practicable, it would have been the work of hours
to get down into and up again out of the gully : be-
sides there were two such ravines, and it was not
possible to avoid them. We watched the doe till she
was out of sight, and then turned homewards.
Here and there on declivities will be found open
spaces, without trees or shrubs, and covered with a
long grass, the blades of which do not grow erect,
but hang downward with the slope. The sun and
air dry the stems, and make their sm*face as slippery
as ice, and these places are perhaps the most difficult
of any to descend : if you shp, down you go, till a
tree or shrub or some inequality of surface stops your
descent. There was no danger here ; but when such a
grassy slope or laane ends on the brink of a precipice,
838 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
it is rather perilous if your foot should gHde. Some
years ago a dairymaid from one of the huts on the
mountains near Berchtesgaden sHpped in coming down
a laane. She was unable to stop herself or hold on
by the long grass, and went over the brink at the foot
of the slope into the abyss. When the poor girl was
found, the braid of her hair, which she wore twisted
in a knot behind her head, was lying in the cavity of
the brain. Misfortunes occur almost every year from
the treacherous smoothness of these grassy slopes.
We at last regained the path. It was rainiag at
Garmisch. The effect of the slanting sun-rays on the
thin clouds was of exceeding loveliness. The moun-
tains were arrayed in pearly hues ; vapoury horizontal
mists were lying lightly on the air near their tops, but
their grey and snowy peaks could be seen rising above
them. A magnificent rainbow now blushed into ex-
istence, spanning the mountain to the very top with its
lofty elliptical curvature : while the part that was earth-
ward rested on the side of the mountain, showering a
halo of rosy and violet light upon the trees and bushes.
The whole scene was surpassingly beautiful.
A rugged and broken path leads from the road
down to Farchant. We were full an hour descending
to the village, and one hour of such descent fatigues
and racks .the joints far more than a whole morning's
climbing : it was a hard day's work, and we had all
enough. Tired and dirty as I was, the sight of the
inn cheered and gladdened me. Having first well
cleaned my rifle, I attended to myself; and presently.
THE OLD BUCK. 339
refreshed and with a good appetite, went down to
the Httle parlour to sup, where I found my two com-
panions and the other worthies of the village*.
'My friend Franz von Kobell has made the fancies
and imaginings of the hunter, while expecting game,
the theme of one of his poems. He has, with his ac-
customed truthfulness of delineation, pictured all the
hopes and longings which the chamois-hunter will
cherish and dally with on such occasions ; and he has
given the end of these pleasant castles in the air, with
a quiet humour and, as I have often found by unwel-
come experience, with comic truth. And comic enough
it often is, if we compare our expectations at such
times with the eventual reality. Yet we always weave
new fancies, and look at the rocks and bushes and the
cool ravine, and think and wish so long, till at last
we feel sure a chamois will spring down yonder slope,
or that a good stag must soon emerge from the shades
of the forest. And at such times all seems so very
plausible, and wears so comely an air of truth, that at
» last good, honest, jog-trot, sober, unimaginative Com-
* I afterwards (Feb. 16, 1851) got a letter from my friend Neuner,
containing news of the old chamois buck. He writes : — " The cha-
mois that remain with me the summer through have this winter gone
over iato the chase of the Eschenlohe peasantry, and have, as I am
told, been considerably reduced hi number ; so that with me, next
summer, there will be but poor sport, and the whole season's shoot-
ing will consist at most of but a few head of game. The buck on the
Fricker E^isen has not changed his quarters ; he is still alive, and
has his stand in the same place where he used to be."
z 2
■
340 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
mon Sense yields to the pretty coquetry and winsome
ways of Fancy, and believes, and even sees, all that
she has been archly whispering in his ear.
The lines I have here attempted to render in English
verse, are written in the original in a Bavarian dialect.
Elje CJjatnots 3§unter*s SoUIoqug.
" Ha ! what a glorious deep ravine !
Hence I can see far round :
Here on tHs spot I '11 sit me down,
A better can't be found.
A chamois must be up among
Those latschen near yon blocks ;
And if he cross to yonder slope,
He must pass down those rocks.
And down below I track'd a stag
As big as any cow :
He too will soon be on the move.
And here I 've chance enow."
So there the Hunter takes his seat,
The hours roll by apace,
And thinks of all that might appear,
At such a famous place.
If only he 'd a little luck !
If but a lynx would come !
" Old Johann once did shoot one so,
And here I know are some.
A lynx ! Ay, that 's not easy though.
The surface is but small."
Then he takes aim, and thinks that he
Could hit one with a ball.
" And Michael too, — just such a place
'Twas where he saw the bear ;
Now if he came and trudged along
Right down the pathw ay there,
He 'd get knock'd over the ravine : —
What would our Hanger say ?
And how they 'd question me, and stare!
There 'd be fine work that day !
THE CHAMOIS HUNTER.
341
My lassie would be proud of me,
She 'd teU it all the folk ;
'Twould bring me seventy gulden too,
Faith, that were no bad joke !
'Twould be in all the papers too,
The King of it would hear ;
Why, who knows but he 'd say, ' I 'U have
Him made Head Forester' ?
"Should a wolf come, 'twould also do :
Yes, — ^wolves they prowl far round,
And such a place as this they like,
Where something 's to be found.
A bran-new rifle then I 'd have,
As handsome as could be ;
Ajid carved upon the stock a wolf,
With date, that all might see.
And should one at a shooting-match
Ask ' From the city, eh' P
*No, no, 'tis his who shot the wolf,'
Is what they all would say."
And so with rifle ready cock'd.
He sits, and thinks, and thinks,
Till it grows dark ; but nothing comes,
Bear, chamois, wolf, nor lynx.
842
CHAPTEE XXV.
A STROLL WITHOUT MY EIFLE.
Whoever passes through Partenkirchen should take
a walk to " The Clam." It is a wonderful place, and
the unlearned as well as the learned cannot fail to be
impressed by the sight. Even he who knows nothing
of geology, will understand that this earth of ours must
be very old, when he sees the channel that the water
has here for centuries been gnawing through the solid
rock. Go and look at it, and stop there awhile ; and
as you peep over into the deep chasm, try to think of
the years that the water has been thus toiling to wear
out the hard stone ; and how one century dragged on,
and another weary century, and the still toiling water
had only got a little lower down. After that, and
when you see what it has accomplished, the word
"Time" may perhaps convey to your mind another
meaning than it has hitherto done.
The Eib See is not far off, and I went there. It
lies at the foot of the Zug Spitz — it seems so at least.
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE. 343
quite at the foot ; but were you to try to reach it, you
might walk a whole day before getting there. The
lake is shut in on every side with black forests of
pine; the water itself is deep blue, and above the
dark woods the peaks of the mountain-range appear
of a dazzling whiteness. The intelligent, healthy young
Isavage who rowed us on the lake, said there were
seven islands in it ; they all belonged to his father,
who had bought them, lake and all, for 100 florins
(£8). They caught carp there of 38 lbs. weight, which
our little boatman then carried to Partenkirchen for
sale, and got for them 15 kreutzers {^d.) a pound. In
winter, he told us, when the lake was frozen, and no
snow had fallen, you would think it still was open,
so clear and transparent was the icy surface. Then
they go across with waggons and horses, to fetch the
wood from the opposite mountains ; but when much
snow is on the ground they see no living creature
till Spring returns, for to get out of their hut is
impossible.
These mountain-lakes are sometimes moved by
strange fits; and, without apparent cause, the dark
water will suddenly grow agitated, and heave and
swell as though some great catastrophe were taking
place below in its mysterious caverns. When the
earthquake of Lisbon occurred, the Walchen See was
dreadfully disturbed, though the sky above was clear,
and the day serene and calm.
I inquired of the peasant here — " The Lord of the
Isles" — about his way of life, and learned that not
344 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
even butter entered into his simple diet, so great was
his poverty. Yet how cheerful he was withal 1 Milk,
potatoes, and broth thickened with maize-flour, were
his sole food; but, like a true philosopher, seeking
out the gleams of brightness that illumined his dark
life, and making the most of them as so much posi-
tive gain, he added gaily, " Oh, but I am healthy, and
strong and well." He did not know what a catarrh
was, he said, " hut thought it must he a very unpleasant
thing to have, — he should not like it at all."
" Happy fellow !" exclaimed the Minister Von der
p * * *^ who happened to overhear him, — " happy
fellow, he never wants to go to Carlsbad for the
waters !"
I stopped at Griinau on coming back, and, going
into the single house standing there, chatted with the
landlord, asking many questions, as I have the bad
habit of doing.
" Are you from Munich?" he inquired.
" No, from England."
"Prom England! Ah, I have heard of England!
I have heard too that the people there are very skil-
ful ; is it true ?"
My good old friend Kobell was just then at Hohen-
schwangau on a visit, so I stuffed a few things into
my riicksack, and set off" one afternoon to go and
shake hands with him. A little strip of Austria runs
into the Bavarian territory before you get to Lermos,
and intersects your road thither. I mention it merely
for the sake of bearing testimony to the obliging be-
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE. 345
haviour of the Austrian authorities in general, of which
1 again had a proof on arriving at the frontier Hne
guarded by the officers of the Customs.
" Your pass !"
" I have none."
" I cannot let you proceed : stop while I speak to
the officer."
On starting I had quite forgotten that I should
have to cross a neck of Austrian land, and was there-
fore unprovided Avith papers to show who I was,
although my passport had been signed by the Aus-
trian ambassador in case of need. All this I ex-
plained.
"It is most unfortunate : our orders are so very
strict at present, to let no one through who cannot
produce his papers. Have you nothing you can show
me ? I should be sorry to send you back, but, you
see, if anything went wrong I should get into trouble.
Have you no papers at all? Where are you going,
and who are you ? where do you come from ?"
If I remember rightly, I had sense enough not to
say that Lord Palmerston and I were countrymen ;
and at last, after giving a plain statement of my plans,
was allowed to proceed,
pi "I should be very sorry to doubt what you say,"
was the courteous rejoinder ; " only, another time pray
bring your papers with you. You may pass. Good
evening, and a pleasant journey !"
The innkeeper at Lermos, in answer to some ques-
tion of mine, mentioned the distances of several places
346 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
from the village, — to Vienna so many miles, to Trieste
so many.
" But Trieste !" I said, " what makes you think of
Trieste?"
" It interested me much once," he said, *' when the
Englishman, Herr Waghorn, used to be coming this
way from India."
" What," I said, " you knew Mr. Waghorn?"
" Yes, he was here six times. Ah, that was an en-
terprising mind*!" he exclaimed, with a dash of sorrow
in his tone, as if the enthusiasm and genius of the
man had not left even his old heart insensible, but had
stirred it up and aroused it, and was not to be for-
gotten, though the stranger only came rushing by like
a comet on its swift, surprising course. How full he
was of admiration at Waghorn' s mighty energy and in-
domitable will ! Indeed it was this last which seemed
to have left on the minds of all to whom I spoke,
something like a sense of irresistible power. And no
wonder ! he appears among them, and old difficulties
and hindrances give way ; he batters down every ob-
stacle, and, hurrying past, shows them that by his
wiU, solely by his strong will, he can annihilate the
Impossible.
" For nine days and nights," continued mine host,
" the horses were kept ready : there were eight or-
dered, and three postillions. That last time — I re-
member it well — the one post cost 116 florins; but
it was the same to him, no matter what it cost : all
* " Das war ein imternehmender Oeischt!"
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE. * 347
he cared for was time — that was everything ; nothing
could be done quick enough. Ah, it put life into us
all whenever we heard he was coining !"
" And did he never stop to take any refreshment ?"
I asked.
" Perhaps he just had time to swallow a cup of
coffee, but all in a trice, — ^he allowed himself scarcely
a second ; or he took something with him as he jumped
into the carriage, and ate it as he went along. He
must have been very strong to bear what he did, but
sometimes he looked exceedingly tired ; yet he was
always full of life, and only cared about getting on."
" And what sort of a man was he ?"
" Very friendly, but severe — very severe with the
postillions. And he was right : he paid for the trouble,
and well too ; there was no stint of money when he
came."
" And how did he travel ?"
y '' Always in a light carriage, sometimes quite alone,
and in the others were the letters. They were crammed
full ; it was something quite wonderful to see the quan-
tity of boxes he had with him. Everything was or-
dered some time beforehand ; and we w^ere told, from
a certain day, to be in readiness till he arrived. We
were constantly on the watch, for there was no know-
ing when he would come. Sometimes when we least
expected him he would all of a sudden be here, — in
the middle of the night perhaps, — tearing along, and
in a moment on again. When once he was announced,
from that instant we had no rest, for we were obUged
I
348 ' CHAMOIS HUNTING.
to have all ready at a moment's warning, or he would
have been terribly angry. Yes, yes, that was indeed
an enterprising mind."
Poor Waghorn ! how he toiled on incessantly to
achieve his great work, and what has been the re-
ward ?
The following morning I took a place in the dili-
gence to the next post-town, and presently, when we
came to a hill, I got out of the carriage and talked
with the postillion as we walked up. The conversa-
tion of the evening before was still in my thoughts.
" Did you ever drive the Englishman, Waghorn,
when he passed through Lermos ?" I asked of my
companion.
"No," he said, "for I was not at Lermos then;
but at Kempten I have seen him. How he drove !
How he went along ! never was seen anything like it.
Though I did not drive him, I have heard a great deal
about him from my comrades. He paid them im-
mensely, and they never could go fast enough for
him : he used to keep on scolding them, and telling
them to drive faster and faster all the way. Once he
came from Trieste to Lermos in thirty -two hours ; but
then, you know, he had not to wait a moment, for
when it was known he was coming everybody flew."
" And did they like to have him come ?"
" Oh yes, to be sure ; and when they heard he was
in sight, the people used all to run out to see him
arrive. Further on there is a hill — I'll show it to you
as we pass ; well, when Herr Waghorn was expected,
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE. 349
some one used to be posted there to wait for him, and
directly he caught sight of his carriage dashing along,
he fired a pistol, that the people below might know
he was near, — for Rente, as I suppose you know, is
just at the foot of the hill ; but though it is a good
way to the bottom, he used to come down at such
a rate that we could hardly get out the horses before
he was already there ; and then he wanted always to
be on again, and in the same moment too. I never
saw such a man before !"
" And you never drove him ?"
" No, I wish I had, for he always paid from the
hour the horses were ordered; and when we waited
four or five days for him, the whole time was reckoned,
and some of my comrades got a fine sum. When once
the orders had come, those among us who were to
drive him were not allowed to leave the horses night
or day for a single minute : they used to lie down,
ready dressed, in the hay, and on his arrival were up
and off". Many and many a time I have heard them
tell about Herr Waghom."
" I wonder," said I, " the post-masters let their
horses be driven so fast, for they will not do it ge-
nerally."
p " But he paid for it. You know he did not pay
the usual sum, but double and treble ; and then, if a
horse was hurt, it was made good at once. At Kemp-
ten, I remember, one horse fell dead, — at such a tre-
mendous rate did they drive along ; and the price the
post-master asked was paid down instantly, and with-
350 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
out a word. You see, the thing was, the horses had
been waiting for more than a week, and had not been
out of the stable all that time, and they were well fed
too ; so that when they came out at last, after stand-
ing so long, that particular one could not bear it, and
it killed him outright; if he had not been so long
without exercise it would not have hurt him. Look,"
said he, as we reached a hill- top, " this is the place :
that is Rente you see down below, and just here the
man used to stand on the look-out. It is a good way
to the town, is it not ? well, he was down the hill in
a moment." And in a fair space of time we were
rumbling through the streets, up to the very post-
house where Waghorn, anxious, longing, and half dead
with fatigue, but not worn out — he was too enthu-
siastic for that — had dashed along on his way to
London, from India and the Desert.
I went on to Ammergau, and there, to my great
delight, found my friends the Solachers. " Xavier is
here, and Lisl ; come, I '11 show you where they are,
they will be so glad to see you !" said Nanny ; and off
I went with her, sure of a hearty welcome.
On the road thence to Partenkirchen Hes Ettal,
with a large handsome church, not quite complete.
The building was interrupted by the confiscation of
the monasteries. The monastery adjoining it is of
great size, and the whole together forms a handsome
square. Brewhouse, cellars, granaries, barns, stables,
cow-houses, — all that pertained to an estabhshment of
this sort, was to be found here, with water in abund-
A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE.
351
ance flowing to every part where it could be of use.
The whole, with the adjacent woods belonging to the
convent, was sold for 40,000 florins, somewhat more
than £3000 ; the real worth being 200,000 florins. In
other places similar estates were disposed of for even
less. The haste the Government made to " realize" the
property of which it thus had got possession, caused
land to be disposed of for the most insignificant sums.
As a vast number of such religious houses were sud-
denly, and all at the same moment, thrown into the
market, there was a glut of property for sale ; besides,
few persons were prepared to purchase such large do-
mains. The Jews therefore, for the most part, bought
them up, and at prices that ensured immense profit by
the speculation.
352
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KEAMER.
Bauer was to come from Farchant, and meet me at
the Oester Berg ; I therefore started alone for Parten-
kirchen, and went up the well-known path leading
to the hut. As I walked slowly on, with that delibe-
rate pace which, when you have a long ascent before
you, it is well to choose, I presently reached a bushy
spot, where however a precipitous steep on one side
showed the valley, with its winding stream and cot-
tages and pasturage lying at my feet. On a sudden,
from out the green branches on my right, rose Bauer
to his full height, and gave me a cheerful greeting.
It was like one of Roderick Dhu's men starting up
from his ambush of heather.
"I thought you would soon come," he said; "so I
sat down here to wait for you, and was looking across
to my sister's cottage at Ettal. It is just visible
through that dip in the hill yonder. She was in the
garden a moment ago, and then somebody came in
from the road. I could see all capitally from here."
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 358
We went on, and were soon at our old quarters. I
fetched a pan of milk from the cupboard, and slicing
into it the bread which I had brought with me, had
my supper, and then went to bed.
The next morning we were out betimes, and, as
we mounted higher, saw, soon after dawn, a- couple of
stags and some chamois on one side of the Bischof.
What luck ! We crept along over the ground, as
though we feared to hurt the blades of grass ; and,
carefully avoiding the stones, stole softly onwards.
And now the spot is reached whence the game will
surely be visible, and we shall be able to get a shot ;
and lifting our heads slowly and carefully, our eyes
sweep over the sides of the hollow, expecting every
moment to light on the object of our hopes. But
there is no need of all this care, for not a creature
is to be seen. We then examined the slot, and found
that the stag had, at most, eight points on his antlers ;
he had gone over a shoulder of the mountain, and
across some splashy ground covered with many traces
both of deer and chamois.
We were advancing slowly up the Krotenkopf, — a
mountain somewhat less than 8000 feet high ; on our
left the stony Bischof extended its broad side before
us, over which was now spread a thin covering of
snow.
"Do you see anything?" I asked of Bauer, who
was looking fixedly across at the opposite mountain.
" I th'mk it 's a chamois !" he replied, with his eyes
still fixed on a certain dark spot ; and turning his head
2 A
I
354 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
a little on one side, as if to look at it from another
point of view.
" Yes, it is a chamois," he continued, as we looked
through our glasses; "that's all right! We have
plenty of time, for he will not go away. But let us on
now : yonder — do you see those rocks, — great blocks
of stone, just on the shoulder of the mountain ? — well,
there I think you had better stand ; and then I will
go over the ridge, and roll down stones, to put the
chamois on the move ; he will be sure to come round
close to where you are, and you can get a famous
shot."
We were a considerable time in reaching the place,
yet it did not seem far off. But in the mountains
distances are very illusory, and you are sure to fancy
them shorter than they really are.
" How long will you be crossing over the ridge ?"
I asked of Bauer, as he was about to set off.
" I can hardly say : it 's a good way up and round
to the other side. But I will tell you what ; as soon
as the chamois is on the move, I '11 fire off my rifle, so
that you may know, and be on the look-out."
" Very well : this is a good place where I now
am. I will keep behind these rocks, and shall thus
be almost hidden."
" When he comes, he will pass along yonder. Do
you see ? — ^just there, where those stones are peeping
out of the snow." And off he bounded with a nimble
step, and was soon out of sight, as he took a slant-
ing direction over the mountain. There was plenty of
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 355
snow where I stood ; for the spot being overshadowed,
there it lay Aveek after week, safe from the influence
of the sun. I brushed some away, and lay down on
the rock. I was tired and listless, and then grew
angry with myself for being so. I could not tell what
was the matter with me ; but, for some cause or other,
I strangely enough did not feel the intense interest
which always possessed me at such moments of ex-
pectation. I took out a crust and ate it, but more
for pastime than from appetite. I was annoyed at my
own indifierence, and at such unwonted apathy. A
charm seemed to have been broken, and my eyes now
looked at the magnificent forms about me, no longer
wonderingly, but as though they were quite common,
everyday things. Suddenly a thundering sound rever-
berates from the Bischof, and rolls up the sides of the
Krotenkopf; and then falls back again, like a great
wave, that, breaking its massiveness against the rocks,
tumbles to pieces with a low, murmuring moan ; — it
was from Bauer's rifle. I started up, and something
of the old feelings came creeping on, but sluggishly,
and not with a sudden rush as heretofore. I was be-
hind a piece of rock, that covered me entirely up to
my chin, and looked right in front, where I expected to
see the chamois appear, but nothing came. Presently
a stone moved shghtly ; and turning my eyes to the
side whence the sound proceeded, there stood two
chamois at gaze on my left hand, one behind the
other : both were immoveable, and looking steadfastly
in my direction. I was as immoveable as they ; it was
2 A 2
856 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
evident they suspected danger, but I did not think
they could see me, for they had not whistled as yet ;
and there was still a possibility they might, in moving
on, come a little nearer, for at present they were a
long distance off. There they stood for a time, I all
the while hardly daring to move even my eyelids,
anxious what the next moment would bring with it.
The nearest chamois was the smaller of the two, — it
was of a reddish colour, while the other larger one
was quite black. But he was the further off, so, if
I fired at all, I thought it would be better to take
the nearer animal. Thus we remained in presence of
each other ; all was still and silent as the very air, —
it was as if everything had been petrified by some
sudden spell.
Suddenly the nearer chamois utters the sharp whistle;
but he gazes still, and is motionless. I now knew there
was no hope of their coming nearer ; in a moment they
would be ofi". There was no time to lose ; and, bring-
ing my cheek down to my rifle, to take aim, I carefully
prepared to fire. The loud report breaks the long
silence. " Is he hit ?" I ask myself. " No, they 're
both going away ! It cannot have touched him ! Yet
the one that lags behind — he does not leap up the
mountain so lightly as the other ! I don't know
though — something seems the matter with him — ^yet
— ^yes, — he 's olF !" Far as he now was, I still fired the
other barrel, and knew at once I had missed.
I followed their track some distance, to see if there
were any drops of blood on the snow, but to my great
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 857
vexation found nothing. Bauer now came over the
mountain, and at once called to ask if I had got one
of them.
" There were two, were there not ?" he said. " I only
saw the second after I had fired my rifle. You have
missed ? Wliat, did not they come near ? No, you
can't have missed ! Where were they ?" he continued,
as he looked for their slot in the snow.
" But I tell you I have. Por a moment I thought
I had hit him, but now I see I did not."
" Where were they standing when you fired ?"
" Further on. But it is useless to look : I have fol-
lowed them already, and found nothing. Further on,
— down lower — further still, if you will look," I called
out, as he inquired about the position of the chamois.
" Here 's hair enough however," he cried, holding
up some in his fingers, as I ran to the place. The long
black hair of the back was lying on the snow, and by
its length it was evident that it had been shaved off"
quite close to the backbone. The supposition that
one moved as though hurt, which I had a moment
entertained, but afterwards given up as a mere fancy,
was, I now saw, well founded. I had touched him.
The ball had just grazed the vertebrae, but so very
slightly as to cause only the momentary lameness I
had remarked.
" Look how long they are !" said Bauer, examining
the speckled hairs. '' Well, that was near ! an eighth
of an inch lower down, and he would have dropped
at once. 'Twas a long shot though, that I must say."
■
358 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
The mishap was indeed particularly vexatious ; for,
had they come but a little nearer, I might easily have
shot both, — right and left ; and it would have been a
pleasant thing to recur to in after time.
The rest of the day we saw nothing. At the hut
the herd foretold change of weather. " The cattle were
so wild," he said, " they had broken the pole of the
waggon that morning. He was quite sure it would not
be fine on the morrow ; it's a sure sign when the cattle
are so restless. As to the almanack writers, they may
say what they like, — the cattle are never wrong."
We now turned our steps homeward. As we went
along, Bauer told me how, close to the spot we were
passing, he had once met some poachers. " There
were five of them," he said, " and I crept through the
bushes, and got quite near them unobserved. At last
they saw me, and called out that I should make the
best of my way off", or they would fire."
" And did you go ?"
" Of course not. I was lying on the ground behind
a great piece of stone, and I knew they could not
touch me. No ; I stopped, and looked at them well.
I recognized them all, and gave their names to the
Police, but nothing was done to them."
A day or two after I arranged with Bauer to go up
the Kramer : though I knew there was little chance of
meeting chamois there, I still wished to go ; for it is
possible to be prepossessed by the face of a mountain,
as well as by the human countenance, and this was
now the case with me. There was a hut there, — or
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 359
rather, as it was of stone, a house containing a single
room, which had been constructed some years ago for
the present King, should he ever seek shelter or ac-
commodation on the mountain.
" A blanket is there, too !" said Bauer triumphantly ;
" and a stove is in the room ; only think, a stove ! The
place is snug enough, but it is a long time since I was
up there."
After crossing the meadows we came at once into
a gulley, where the torrent came tumbling along over
its rugged bed. The din of w^aters drowned every
other sound, so that we did not hear the approach of
Neuner, who suddenly stood before us, on his way
down from the mountain. We stopped a moment, to
interchange some questions, and to pat old Bursch's
head, and then we went on up the steep and narrow
path*. As we ascended higher, the wild beauty of
the spot became more and more visible. In some
places there were perpendicular buttresses of rock, of
fiYe or six hundred feet in height, with here and there
projecting spots, covered with grass, or a pine-tree that
had managed to force its roots into some chance fissure.
* One of those mishaps which occasionally occur in the mountains
happened to this good dog, just before my departure from Parten-
kirchen. Neuner missed him on the mountain, but as he whistled for
him in vain, thought he had followed the slot of a roe, and would
come back after a time. He however never saw him again, and sup-
poses he fell over the rocks in the ardour of pursuit. For two days
Neuner searched the whole mountain for his dog, in case he should
have got into some place whence he could not climb out again, and
where he might be still aUve. He called him by name, as he knew
that, if alive, he could answer by a bark or howl. In spite of all his
endeavours he could find no traces of him.
360 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
This was a " Graben/' as well as the " Rethel Clam,"
but very unlike it in appearance and character. Grand
as the forms were, the whole was so shut in by the
peculiar shape of the mountain, and the parts brought
so near together, that verdant nooks were formed,
giving the w^hole a mild aspect; moreover there was
herbage in abundance among the grey rocks, and the
foliage of pines and latschen to break the rugged
and sharp outlines. Here and there you saw little
green spots, that you would gladly have alighted on,
had you had wings to fly there. On our path was
overshadowing wood; and the shade, and a languor
I could not shake off", soon brought me to a resting-
place. It was a delicious afternoon, and, though the
23rd of September, agreeably warm. I looked before
me, down in the deep gully, and listened to the waters
below, sounding, where we sat, just pleasantly loud
enough to tell of their presence, and nothing more.
While I was thus contemplating the scene, I heard
the sound of bells. I listened more attentively. Yes,
I was right; but then the thought occurred to me,
how could such a peal as that come from Partenkirchen,
or Garmisch, or indeed any other village ? I looked
up, to see if Bauer's countenance betrayed a sign of
having heard them too; but nothing there told me
that he had, and how should he ? for it was the well-
known sound of the Bath Abbey bells, that were ring-
ing as merry a peal as I had ever heard them do in
the days of my boyhood. I got up, and stood, and
looked round, and convinced myself I was not asleep ;
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 361
but still I heard the dear, well-remembered bells, that
were as familiar as the voices of old friends. Now they
fell, as if borne away on the wind, and then again
came swelling on the ear, as though the ringers were
pulling right lustily. It was so real, that, had it been
some simple church-bell merely, I might have been
cheated into belief ; but there was no mistaking those
of my own dear native Bath. The author of that most
delightful of books ' Eotlien' mentions something of
the sort occurring to him on a journey, — if I remember
rightly, when he was crossing the Desert *.
We went on, and still on, and it seemed as if there
was no end to our steep ascent. I could hardly drag
my limbs along, so weary was I ; and had I been alone,
should certainly have lain down to sleep. Bauer was
always far in advance, stopping to wait for me, and
m^ging me on ; for though we were now at last ap-
proaching the summit, which was evident from the
changed character of the scenery, and from the patches
of snow that were lying about, we still had a long way
to go, and evening was coming on, and in such a place
* I ought perhaps to mention that I had been at Bath but a week
or two before. In both cases the cu*cumstance arose, no doubt, from
the nerves being unstrung by coming iUness ; for it was afterwards
that I fell sick at Partenkirchen, and the author of 'Eothen,' on
arriving at Cairo, had an atta<?k of fever, if not of the plague. I am
inclined to think that in every instance, whether such sounds are
heard at sea or elsewhere, a state of debility or excitement would be
found to be an attendant circumstance, were the matter inquired into.
If nothing untoward follow, it is thought no more of; but should
the person by whom such music is heard die soon afterwards, it is
then looked upon as a supernatural warning, and a friendly summons
is recognized in those loud soimds of home.
362 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
daylight was as necessary as air to breathe. The
mountain was of vast size ; and, as I looked upwards
to the sky-line, and saw the drear expanse, and felt my
sinking strength, it seemed to me impossible that I
could ever reach the hut. I had never before known
such an utter prostration of strength, such a total want
of anything like energy. But still I toiled on as best
I could ; though I was obliged — a thing I had never
in my life done before — to give my rifle to Bauer to
carry for me. The evening was drawing in, and we
had still far to go, and the places became more rugged
and difficult : every minute was valuable.
" Pray come on ! If we were only down these rocks
I should not care. Once out yonder and all is well ;
but here, if it gets dark — you see what a place it is !
Exert yourself — do your best — now then, try once
more !" And Bauer again led the way.
It was quite dark before we got to our destination.
I hoped that, when I had eaten something, I should be
better, and we therefore hastened to make a fire and
cook our supper. Bauer fetched water from a neigh-
bouring spring, and, in the darkness, this was not so
soon accomplished. I meanwhile tried to get the
wood into a blaze, — but oh ! the torment of that fire-
making ! instead of flame, the hearth was involved in
smoke, and the wind, pouring down the chimney, sent
whole clouds into our smarting eyes. In that small
space neither of us could bear it long. Now for the
frying-pan, and then we shall soon have a warm,
savoury meal ! But what a state was that vessel in !
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 368
Covered full an inch thick with grease, rancid from
staleness, and incrusted everywhere with dirt and
dust, just as it had been left by the last lazy comer.
This was indeed disheartening — the last drop in our
cup of bitterness. However there was nothing to be
done but to clean the pan, and try to make it fit for
use. It took no little time to accomplish this, but
it was fairly done at last. After it had been well
scoured, and water repeatedly boiled in it to get rid
of its impurities, we set it on the fire with a good
lump of butter, while Bauer mixed the batter for the
schmarren. Now all is ready, and the fair white
meal and water is poured into the pan. But what a
sight ! it all turns black at once, looking more like
the black broth of Sparta than any Christian food.
Grievous as this was, the whole had in it something
so comic that we could not but laugh. We let it fry
however, and then tasting a bit and finding it not so
ver?/ bad, cooked and ate a part. Luckily we disco-
vered an old iron ladle, and having well cleaned it,
boiled some water, and mixed ourselves a ladle-full of
grog. This, twice filled, and some bread that I had
in my riicksack, furnished us a better supper ; and I
still had a crust left, just enough for the morrow's
breakfast. How different was this place from the hut
near Kreuth, which had been made so clean and tidy,
and left in such perfect order by " Catharina Hess \"
It was a disgrace to a hunter to leave things in such
a state, — nothing washed, the room unswept, and
whatever had been used, lying about as when last
364 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
employed. On some boards, covered with straw, was
our bed; and putting our joppen and the blanket
over us, we were soon asleep.
I was still exhausted the next morning, though I
had slept soundly ; yet I did not like to give way, and
tried my best to keep up, but my step that day was
void of elasticity, and altogether it was sorry work.
The sight at early dawn from the Kramer was in-
deed a glorious one. We were almost opposite the
Zug Spitz, and seemingly quite near it ; and it was as
though we looked down upon the mountains and the
snow-plains on their tops. And when the sun came,
there was a lovely pageantry !
We saw only two chamois the whole day. In going
home we met a man, who passed us scowlingly, and
without a word, — a most unusual and strange omis-
sion, for here every wayfarer greets the other as he
goes by.
" That is a poacher of Garmisch," said Bauer, as we
went on ; "as great a rascal as ever breathed. I have
no doubt but that his rifle is hidden near, somewhere
among the stones or latschen."
This was the last time but one of my going out. I
again passed a night at the Oester Berg, and in the
morning went out alone, though the overpowering
languor still dragged me to the earth. The ground
was covered with snow, and mists were on the hills,
and a drizzling rain soon began to make everything
wet and miserable. At last I found it was useless to
try to go on : I was ohli(jed to give it up, being fairly
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 365
brought to a stand-still, and literally unable to drag
one foot after the other. I crawled to the hut as well
as I could, and lying down close to the stove fell
asleep for an hour. I afterwards managed to reach
Partenkirchen, where I found, by every one telling me
how yellow I was, that I had the jaundice. My languor
of the preceding days was now explained. It was a
grievous thing to be confined to my bed for weeks,
and the mountains so near; and as day after day I
turned and looked at them from my pillow, their tops
clear and distinct against the bright blue sky, I felt
doubly the privations that sickness brings ; and yet
I was in some measure compensated for the loss, for
the scenes themselves were brought to my bedside, —
"transcripts of Nature," as Constable would have
called them, fresh from the open air, and in which
tone, and forms, and colour were not copied merely,
but felt. I had just before made the acquaintance of
Mr. Charles Haag, who was staying here ; and from the
moment I was unable to leave my room, he brought
me daily his portfolio, and left with me the result
of each morning's or afternoon's work. Then there
were effects to be talked of and discussed, picturesque
figures to look at, — new acquaintances perhaps which
he had made in the last walk, — opinions to be inter-
changed as to which of the masterly sketches laid out
before me on my bed might best furnish subject for a
picture; and in this way the hours went pleasantly
by, and I found that I was not so greatly to be pitied
after all.
366
CHAMOIS HUNTING.
From my window I saw one morning a sight which,
touching as it was, had in it much of beauty. It was
the funeral of a httle child. I had heard the chanting
of the mourning train, and on looking into the street
discovered whence it came. The young child lay in
the open coffin, which was carried in the arms of a
man ; its placid face uncovered, and nothmg between
it and the blue heaven. All around it were flowers,
on its pillow and on both sides ; and its pretty hands
too were embedded on roses, — buds as tender as itself.
I had never seen Death arrayed so winningly.
THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER. 367
The distance a wounded animal will sometimes go before leaving,
on tke groimd over which he has passed, any trace that he has been
hit, is most extraordinary, and in some cases appears to me
quite inexphcable. But a week or two before penning this note,
four or five deer suddenly crossed my path one evening, as I was re-
turning home through the woods. They were a great distance off;
but as they stopped to gaze for a moment, I took my chance and
fired. I was sure that I had hit the deer, and as they all passed
among the trees, I felt still more certain from a pecuHar motion I
observed in one of them. I followed the slot across the snow, but
saw nothing. But still, not convinced that I had missed, I kept going
on and on, and at last saw a single red drop on the white surface of
the ground. A little further there were more; presently, on one
side of the slot there was a perfect crimson shower; and a moment
or two after, the deer was seen stretched out quite dead.
Sometimes a part of the intestines wiU protrude, and close up the
opening which the bullet has made, and then of course it is no
wonder the trickling of the blood should cease. But the hemorrhage
takes place inwardly, and, after following the slot for many hundred
yards, and when perhaps you have given up all hope, you wiU very
likely find the stag in a thicket quite dead, or lying in the middle of
a stream, his strength having failed him in making a last effort to
leap across.
It requires an experienced eye however to detect a drop or two of
blood, amid the dead leaves with which the ground in the forest is
covered; and where the earth is hard, or strewn with the dry
foliage of the preceding summer, it is difficult even to make out the
slot at aU ; and yet by practice you at last discern the sUghtest im-
print in the ground, and recognize in a moment if it has been made
by a deer or not.
"When following the slot of an animal that you think you have
wounded, without finding on the ground any traces of his being so,
it is weU, should he pass through a thicket, to examine the boughs
he has brushed against in forcing his way through. The branches
hang closed upon his broad sides, and a leaf may have swept over
368 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the wound, and a single streak of crimson is sufficient to betray all
you want to know.
*' A flower thus stained, to the hunter brings
More joy than the reddest rose ;
It telleth a tale, to his heart as dear
As the blush that doth all disclose."
Once I remember shooting at a wild boar, and, on going to the spot,
found only that he had passed on into the wood. A beater who, like
myself, was also looking about, called to me that I had missed, and
showed me, in proof of his assertion, the hole my buUet had torn in
a young pine close by. But even this did not convince me, and I
still followed the track of the boar. At some distance I found bristles
on the snow, and a little further the boar also, quite dead, but no
blood anywhere except on the spot where he lay, although the ball
had passed right through the body before entering the tree.
But the strangest sight I remember to have witnessed occurred
with a fallow-deer — a buck. I came suddenly upon him while graz-
ing in a glade, and fired. I looked to see the result of my shot, but
he neither fell, nor dashed away. In a moment he began rocking to
and fro where he stood. I went towards him, but he took no notice
of my approach, and continued the rocking motion as before. I
pushed him with my hand, and he rolled over and was dead. The
shot-hole was quite round, and showed no redness, — not the least
sign of blood was visible, and the opening was filled up by the chewed
grass on which the animal had been feeding.
309
CHAPTER XXYII.
CHAPTEE ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN*.
In the highlands of Bavaria, as is the case in all moun-
tainous districts, the customs and amusements of the
inhabitants are as different from those who dwell in the
plain, as the pursuits and mode of life of the latter are
different from those of the mountaineer. Separated,
except by occasional intercourse, for many months in
the year from the world below them, the herdsmen
must be content with pleasures simple in thehiselves
and easy of attainment. Hence that peculiar song,
"Jodeln," with which the lonely milk-maid of the
chalet, the woodcutter, or the peasant-boy " drives the
lagging hours along," and breaks the awful silence of
mountain solitude. As soon however as a few men
and lassies are assembled, they have not to seek long
for amusement. Then begins the merry dance, pecu-
liar to these people, mingled with song; and should
the number be too small to afford them this their fa-
* Though these remarks have already appeared in print, they
will not, I think, be found out of place here.
2 B
370 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
vourite recreation, then the cherished and dearly-loved
cithern is soon upon the table, and accompanying with
its simple, unassuming melody, some equally simple
love-ditty or song of hunting life.
The affection the peasantry bear this instrument is
very great : its tones affect them more than any instru-
ment of greater pretensions would have power to do.
" Well, 'faith, it is the strangest thing !
What's in a cithern's tone ?
It moves the heart, and makes it sad.
As I've heard many own.
And then it is so sweet and gay.
And sounds in merry style ;
'Tis just as though you bravely laugh'd,
And yet did weep the while*."
But the most pecuhar kind of song, and a very
favourite pastime of the people throughout Bavaria,
particularly in the southern parts, in Suabia, the
Tyrol, Upper Austria, and Styria, are the so-called
" Schnadahiipfln." These songs consist -of short
verses, not unlike the " Couplets" of the French, and
generally contain some figurative comparison, taken
from external nature, or from the occupations and
pleasures of the hunter or the husbandman, and are
always of a humorous, gay, or sportive character. By
far the greater number have Love for their theme,
and describe the lover or his " dearie," some love ad-
venture or a lover's grief. The Spanish " Seguidillas"
were somewhat like them : they too were sung to the
guitar during the dance, and were frequently impro-
* Kobell's Gedichte.
^as
A CHAPTER ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN. 371
vised. Seven lines was their usual length, and their
subject a droll simile, or more generally some dalliance
with love*.
With regard to the form of the " Schnadahiipfln,"
it ought, strictly speaking, to consist of not more than
four lines, in which a thought, complete in itself, and
was said before, a comparison, should be expressed.
Occasionally what is wished to be said is extended to
two verses, but more are seldom employed. It is
material that the lines should rhyme ; and so par-
ticular is the singer that his verse should flow musi-
cally, that not unfrequently two of the four lines have
no reference to the principal thoughts, but are intro-
duced merely for the jingle. These verses are, as may
be supposed, extremely simple, but some are very
charming; and when sung to music, the cithern is
the instrument, more particularly in the mountains,
where the freshest songs of this description are to be
heard.
* The Gipsy songs, such as Borrow describes them in * The
Zincali,' have a still nearer resemblance to the " Schnadahiipfln."
" The Gipsy poetry consists of quartets, or rather couplets, but two
rhymes being discernible, and these generally imperfect, the vowels
lone agreeing in sound. The thought, anecdote, or adventure de-
scribed, is seldom carried beyond one stanza, in which anything is
expressed which the poet wishes to impart. The musician composes
the couplet at the stretch of his voice, whilst his fingers are tugging
at the guitar ; which style of composition is by no means favourable
to a long and connected series of thought. Of course the greatest
part of this species of poetry perishes as soon as born. A stanza
however is sometimes caught up by the by-standers and conmiitted
to memory, and being frequently repeated, makes in time the circuit
of the country."
2 B 2
372 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
When many persons are together, the way of sing-
ing them is as follows : one begins, and then the
others sing each a " Schnadahiipfl" in succession ; but
each one ought either to be an answer to that which
preceded, or, from an allusion made to something in
the foregoing one, to spring as it were from it, and in
this way form a connection between the two. These
verses are very frequently extempore; and there are
some persons who for hours will continue thus sing-
ing against each other, till a succession of strophes
have arisen, each one separate and complete in itself,
yet, like beads on a string, forming part of a whole
and having reference to the rest. When such a trial
of skill has commenced, he who at last can think of
nothing more to say, and is consequently unable to
sing his Schnadahiipfl in reply, is heartily laughed at
by the rest, while shouts of applause reward the other
for his ability and wit.
Such verse, being written in a dialect, it is almost
impossible to render in another language, and quite
so to do it justice. In the original the words are
often much abbreviated, and when read or sung, run
so much into one another that a line sounds but as
a single word*. I give however some specimens in
English, beginning with those that tell what are the
characteristics of a Schnadahiipfl.
* For example : —
" A' Tanna is grea',
Is's Jahr aus ii Jahr ei*,
Und a* freudigi Lieb'
Muass a' bstandigi sey'."
A CHAPTER ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN,
873
1.
A good Sclinadaliupfl.
Must be bold and daring ;
Must climb the Ligli mountains,
For no danger caring.
2,3.
A good Sdmadahlipfl
Is a bird in a wood, —
If drooping and moaning,
A sign that's not good.
For a good Schnadahiipfl
Is the dance of a song.
And a sorrowful dance, 'faith,
It does not last long.
4.
And a good Schnadahiipfl
Leads a right merry life.
Like an old wandering fifer
Gladdens all with his fife.
And a good Schnadahiipfl
Is a flower of the field ;
True, 'tis not much heeded,
Yet aU like the chield.
6.
I want but a flow'ret.
No posy want I ;
And a kiss now and then too
You must not deny.
7.
Now, don't ye refuse me —
I 've only had two !
Come, give me the third kiss-
'Tis no good to you.
8.
And as true as clouds oft dim
The blue sky above.
So as true without jealousy
Never was love.
374 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
9.
And love lias a language
That 'a everywhere known ;
And when that 's no more spoken
The sun will fall down.
10.
If every star there,
Were but a fair lass,
I wish the whole sky then
Would fall in the grass.
11.
The T\irk and the Russian
Are nothing to me.
If only my Nanny
And I do agree.
12.
And green is a fir-tree
Eight all the year through :
And a love that is happy
Must be constant too.
13.
And were there no flowers.
The bees' life were sad ;
And were there no lasses
The lads would go mad.
14.
And a blossom don't grow
On a dry wither 'd stump ;
And you can't sing a song
If your heart 's a dead lump.
15.
A bore wiU not often
Do wonders, I ween ;
Just in wild dashing waters
The rainbow is seen.
16.
A mind that is happy
Is a sunshiny day.
Around all is brightness,
Look wherever you may.
lu'^CHNAbAHUPFLN. 375
17.
And a mind not contented
Is rain, fog, and haze,
You see nothing pleasing
Wherever you gaze.
With the exception of the first six verses, the "Schna-
dahiipflii" are not taken in the order observed in the
original ; yet in the selection I have endeavoured to
make choice of such as, when strung together, would
follow each other in the proper order, and have been
anxious to give those in which the character of these
songs was most decidedly marked. The attentive
reader will certainly have observed that in No. 6 the
singer has seized on the "flower" mentioned in the
preceding verse, as a subject on which to form his
stanza; and having introduced something about a
kiss, he who follows weaves it, as it were, into his
verse, of which he makes it the subject. Nos. 8, 9,
10, 11, 12, and 13 do not so visibly spring one from
the other, though the theme is still the same in each.
Nos. 14, 15, 16, and 17 refer again to one and the
same subject, — the blessing of a happy and contented
disposition. The following are strung together at
random, taken like the rest from KobeU's book of
' ' Schnadahiipfln . ' '
A tree is not an emperor,
Yet has it a crown ;
Ajid the birds and gold-chafers
The jewels thereon.
Though young be the oak, yet
At one glance you see
'Twill be something more than
A poor willow-tree.
376 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
And a brook finds its way on
Without much ado ;
And a lad finds his lassie.
If his love 's really true.
Fidelity 's often
Like a Schnadahiifi —
Before you can look round
'Tis done or gone by.
And often Fidelity 's
Like a stag's horn —
Lost quickly, nor soon found
Wlien once it is lorn.
In some parts these " Schnadahiipfln" are sung
during the dance. One of the dancers — he generally
who leads off the figure — advances then to the music,
sings his verse, returns to his place, and the dance is
continued as before.
Such then is one of the favourite pastimes of the
Bavarian mountaineer. No description however can
give an adequate idea of the merry scene, when on a
holiday such a party has met together. The youths,
with their picturesque dresses, and hats proudly de-
corated with the feathers of the blackcock, and a tuft
of long hair from the back of some sturdy chamois
or throat of the noble hart, with a gay posy peeping
from among these trophies of the chase, — the village
maidens, with their boddices of brightest colours,
bordered with gold and laced with chains of silver,
to which hang medals of the same metal, — their high
green hats trimmed with bright flowers and tasselled
cord of gold and green, — their light brown hair in
ample braids, showing itself beneath the broad rim
A CHAPTER ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN,
377
of the hat, — the shrill cry which from time to time
is sent forth in moments of wild hilarity, — the snap-
ping of fingers, with which, castanet-hke, they keep
time during the dance, — and, heard above all the noise,
the cithern's tones, like those of an JEolian harp, — all
together tends to form a scene of rm^al festivity, to
which, for picturesqueness of appearance, or for good
hearty fellowship, it would not be easy to find a pa-
rallel.
The following is the melody to which the Schna-
dahiipfl is sung : —
Jodler.
A
U
-©- -
-!»-«•
-:^i±i
W-
I L_j ^^ 1
Jodler.
II.
-pg
a
-m—m—^-m-
s:
^EE
■ ^-,^-
^^
'3
^^^
III.
:M
B:
iF --t;-±-M --•-- — -i-^ r-T-
-^J ^ -J-..UJ- -J— L_4- — ^- -J-C-!L .
IV.
s
i ^pg^s s
» w
fci
m
^£
s^
378 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
In Wales, according to Mr. W. Leatliart, a similar kind of song,
called " Pennillion," still affords a pleasant pastime. " They origi-
nated probably in the Bardism of the ancient Britons, and were
chanted to the harp from the earliest recorded period. This Pen-
nillion consists in singing stanzas, either attached or detached, of
various lengths and metre, to any tune which the harper may play ;
for it is irregular, and in fact not allowable, for any particular one
to be chosen. Two, three, or four bars having been played, the
singer takes it up, and this is done according as the Pennil, or
stanza may suit ; he must end precisely with the strain, and he
therefore commences in any part he may please. To the stranger
it has the appearance of beginning in the middle of a line or verse,
but which is not the case. Different tunes require a different num-
ber of verses to complete it ; sometimes only one, sometimes four
or six, as will be perceived in the directions for singing. It is then
taken up by the next, and thus it proceeds through as many as
choose to join in the pastime, twice round, and ending with the
person that began."
379
"OHAPTEE XXVIII.
CHAPTER THE LAST.
To be upon the mountains is always an inspiring,
an exhilarating event ; and the further you penetrate
amidst them, the greater is the feeling of delight. It
is a peculiar sensation you experience when climb-
ing among them : and I know nothing like it, except
the thrill of gladness and exultation which fills the
heart when you have given yourself to the waves,
and are forcing your way onward over the open sea.
For mighty as are the forms which rear themselves
around, and sensible as I always am of their vastness,
on me they never exercise an overwhelming power : on
the contrary, all my best energies are called forth by
the sight, and by the difficulties to be grappled with :
the mind seems to expand and grow, — to rise, as with
newly-awakened strength, till it is on a level with the
grandeiu' that it beholds.
On the mountain-top the same silent joy possesses
my whole being as when in presence of the ocean ; and
380 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
as I have sat on the rocks of the Lizard or Land's
End, looking out for hours over the Atlantic, and
watching the long waves that heaved their ponderous
weight along, awe was in my heart, it is true, and a
tremendous sense of God's omnipotence ; but there
was no feeling of littleness : on the contrary, within
me rose an elate consciousness of power, an exulting
joy that, vast as was that ocean, my human mind could
still encompass it, — in thought could traverse it to its
very utmost verge : — a great rejoicing, deep and un*
speakable, that I, even I, was able to take in such
immensity.
And this effect, the grandest appearances of Nature
always produce in me. They do not crush the mind
into nothingness, but cause it rather to feel
"An equal among mightiest energies."
They incite it to action, and call on it to put forth
its strength. For then, when thus face to face with
sublimity, one mighty sensation, like an instinct, be-
comes always suddenly quick within it, — a glad, tri-
umphant consciousness of inalienable divinity.
But there are besides many other minor sources of
joy, for the mountains form an exclusive world of their
own, — a world with its own delights, phenomena and
wonders; and not only the things themselves, but
even their very names have often a strange charm, that
awakens the fancy and sets it busily to work. For
he who lives constantly with Nature, watching all her
moods, nor loving her less, but rather the more, for
her changing and waywardness, will not give to familiar
CHAPTER THE LAST. 381
things, and to places that are dear to him, a barren
name ; but remembering each as connected with an
fc event — call it how he will — the word he chooses will
have a meaning, a significance. The wider our world,
the less sympathy have we for individual objects ; but
if we make a valley our home, we become as intimate
with every part, and with all belonging to the dale,
K as we are with the children, and the men and women
that inhabit it. And, where this is the case, such ob-
jects become a part of us ; they live in our heart, and
we invest them with attributes, and we speak of them
almost as though they had feelings like ourselves.
Hence the personifications which we find in the talk
of the mountaineer, — the vapours, the storm, the tor-
rents, the deep lake, are to him not inanimate things :
he has heard or looked on them with dread or with
complacent joy ; and he knows the ways of each, as
though it were a living creature which he himself had
reared. And this is the beginning of poetry.
H I have often asked the name of a peak, or field of
snow, only in the hope I might hear that it was some
" Spitz," or " Kopf," or " Firner." The positive pleasure
such mere names afford me is greater than I can say.
"Wetter Spitz," "Teufels Horn," " Uebergossener
Alp," " Gems Wand," " Sonnen Joch," " Steinenes
H Meer," — what painting there is in these words ; what
scenes they call up, and how they invest the dead,
senseless rock with a living interest ! Yonder peak
becomes, for me, more than a mere mass of dumb
stone, when I hear that there the wild elements come
382 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
together and hold their meetings, and descend thence
in storm and tempest upon the lower world. Another,
perhaps, has a dread story locked up in its name, and
as you hear it, your fancy conjures up a tale of terrible
retribution, overtaking some great sin.
The mists also, as seen on the mountains, are diffe-
rent from anything of the sort ever witnessed in the
plain. They sometimes come clothed in loveliness,
but they will rise too dread and dimly, and with a
fearful and unsparing power. Here they assume great
forms, and are a reality, a presence. They rise up, and
pass slowly by you, like sad ghosts, or come rush-
ing on along the sides of the mountain, a long array
of muffled shapes of superhuman bulk. It is an im-
pressive, a very impressive sight ; and not only on ac-
count of their vast proportions as they sweep through
the air, but because of the change that is wrought by
them ; for they separate you at once and entirely from
that dear world which you look upon as your home.
There you stand, cut off from humanity, and as lone
as though you were on the broad sea, a thousand
miles from any shore. At such time, I think, that
even one who called himself a misanthrope would
acknowledge a returning love of his kind, and feel
that he belonged to them, and would long for but one
glimpse only of his and their dwelling-place. And
when such glimpse at last is caught, through a rent
in the dense volume of cloud, how fair the earth ap-
pears ! it seems fairer and brighter than ever it did
before.
CHAPTER THE LAST. 383
One feeling, moreover, was always present to me ;
and, whether lying down to sleep on the mountain-
ridge at noon, or when sitting of an evening with my
peasant friends in a cottage or Senn Hiitte, that plea-
sant consciousness, like a merry, laughing face, that
peeps in upon you, go where you will, was ever in
my thoughts. It was, to use the words of the author
of 'Eothen,' for he had felt it too, — ^the dehght at
being beyond the reach of " respectability." I often
quite hugged myself at the thought, " Not one re-
spectable person near me, look where I would !" and
this thought imparts always a sense of freedom, quite
distinct from that which the boundless space and the
fresh breeze bring with them : it is the sense of li-
berty, which he feels who has escaped from heavy thral-
dom, who has slipped off his handcuffs, and got away
over the walls of his prison, and laughs to find himself
in the fields and beyond pursuit. There, is a feeling
of self-satisfaction in the heart, and a very wantonness
in your contentment and glee, as you repeat again and
again the assurances of your safety, — of being beyond
the reach of either the " genteel" or the " respectable."
As I have observed in a preceding chapter, it is not
the mere killing which affords him pleasure who stalks
through the forest in pursuit of game. Besides the
natural appearances which will meet him at almost
every step, and which contribute so largely to his de-
light, he has another interest, — the observation of the
habits of animals. In dense forests this is not so easy;
but in the beech-woods, where there is less under-
384 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
growth, and where too the sun can penetrate more
easily through the spreading boughs, and so ilkimine
the leaf-strewn ground and the beds of green and
brown moss, there you often can observe the creatures
in their forest -home, and get well acquainted with their
family or household life. It is a pretty sight to watch
the care of the doe for her fawn, or to see the two
playing together as a happy human mother will do
with her baby ; or, if very still, you may steal for-
ward near enough to see the majestic stag himself
at rest in the shade, and may observe how he enjoys
the coolness of the spot, and, with a languid Sybarite
air, now lifts, now turns his head, and puts back his
vast antlers even upon his broad sides and shoulders.
But he hears a sound ; or did the breath of air that
rustled through the leaves carry to. his nostrils the
taint of your neighbourhood? He is no longer the
slothful Sardanapalus, but with bold front and head
erect, he is now " every inch a king."
Among a family of wild-boars I have sometimes re-
marked one, — ^generally a weakling, and more helpless
than the rest, for with boars, as with men, the strong
like to show their power, — ^who was buffeted and ill-
treated by all his brothers and sisters. Do what he
would, nothing was right ; sometimes the mother, utter-
ing a disapproving grunt, would give him a nudge, to
make him move more quickly, and that w^ould be a
sign for all the rest of his relations to begin showing
their contempt for him too. One would push him,
and then another ; for, go where he might, he was sure
CHAPTER THE LAST. 385
to be in the way. It is true such poor httle un-
fortunate was generally the most awkward of the
family; but then constant ill-treatment is enough to
make any one embarrassed and awkward.
»The caution with which a stag, particularly an old
one well versed in the ways of men, will emerge from
a thicket into the open space, is very great. With
his head almost on the ground, he steals forth as
stealthily as a fox. You do not hear a dead leaf rustle,
so noiseless are his movements : with his nose low
down, and advanced as much as possible, he will stand
immoveable for some minutes, with no part of him
visible except the nostrils and the large bright eyes, —
these alone move ; and when the ground has been thus
carefully reconnoitered, without however at all turning
his head, the rest of the creature then steals forth, and
with a fleet step he flits across the road, and into the
shelter of the opposite thicket. It is a mystery to
me how a stag is able to pass through the intricate fo-
liage with his wide-spreading antlers, without disturb-
ing the boughs, — so cautiously, indeed, as not even to
cause a twig or the trembling of a leaf to betray his
approach. He is aware of the danger, and flings them
back quite low behind him : when in full flight through
the forest he does the same, lest he strike them against
the overhanging branches in his headlong haste.
One thing too wifl have struck every person who
has had opportunities of observing wild animals ; the
quickness, namely, with which the wounds they have
received generally heal. When however we consider
2 c
386 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
their mode of life, and the simple food they eat, there
is less difficulty in accounting for it. Fresh grass and
herbs and pure spring-water as diet must necessarily
act favourably on the state of the blood ; add to which,
a life passed in the open air, inhaling health at each
respiration ; and our surprise diminishes at what we
here see Nature do when left wholly to herself.
It is not at all uncommon to find old rifle-balls in
deer, and the marks of shots that failed to bring them
down at the time. But where a bone has been shat-
tered, and the animal has still managed to escape, it
is really interesting to see how the splintered parts
will loosen and fall away ; and the wound then nicely
closing, the Hmb presents the same appearance as if
it had been amputated by a skilful surgeon. I once
saw a deer that had been injured, no doubt by a ball,
in the fore knee-joint. The stump had healed, and
was perfectly covered. Last winter (1851) I watched
a boar that had also lost the fore-leg ; but in this case
it was high up, close to the shoulder. It was shot
some weeks later, when I was out in the forest, and
so perfectly had Nature performed her work, leaving
behind no trace of a former fracture, that some were
present who insisted the animal must have been thus
maimed from its birth. There was no scar, no un-
evenness of surface, to indicate that the bone had once
been broken, which however was the case.
But the hardiest animals I have met with are the
fallow-deer : it indeed takes a good deal to kill them.
I have myself seen bucks with several balls in their
CHAPTER THE LAST.
body, feeding some hours afterwards as quietly as if
nothing had happened. A roe is a very dehcate crea-
ture, and can bear httle ; a shot almost anywhere will
bring it down. I have sometimes met one in the wood
running away from some real or imaginary danger ;
and it was quite pitiable to see its condition, agitated
and exhausted with exertion, the exquisitely fine limbs
trembling beneath its body, and its flanks palpitating
as it gasped for breath : every movement showed how
little its fragile form was able to endure any unwonted
roughness. The chamois is less susceptible than the
roe ] but a wound soon makes it sicken ; when struck
it will immediately chmb to some solitary spot, and
there remain. If by chance you shoot one that still
carries traces of a former wound, you may be sure it
was slight and of little importance. But chamois even,
as well as red-deer, often get bad falls ; and the antlers
of the one, and the horns of the other, frequently bear
evidence of a headlong tumble over the rocks.
In old works on Venery strange stories are related
about the habits of animals of chase. In former days
the pursuit of the stag and wild-boar was a royal
pastime, and those animals wjiich afforded such noble
sport were on that account elevated to a rank above
the more common brutes. They were — without offence
be it said — the aristocracy of the animal creation. For
in barbarous times the attributes of the sovereign are
always exaggerated ; and, as " the fountain of honour,"
his ennobling influence is extended to the elephant
that carries him, the steeds that draw his chariot, and
2 c 2
388 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
even to the beasts of the forest which he happens
to take especial pleasure in pursuing. Hence, there-
fore, such are protected from being molested by an
ignoble hand. Now as soon as a person or thing
is hedged about by privilege, as soon as a halo is
thrown round either, an unusual interest is at once
excited, and with it comes vulgar curiosity. When
this is the case, be sure that Pable will henceforth
have more to tell than Truth. We may suppose too
that the wonderful tales which thus grow current, are
rather grateful than othervdse to the pride of him for
whom alone such marvellous animals are reserved.
" The stag," so writes Isidorus, " is the foe of ser-
pents ; and when he is old and sick, he goeth before
the serpent's hole, blows and respires therein, so that
the serpent may creep out, which then he presently
stampeth on with his feet and devoureth. And he
goeth straightway to the water and drinks, so th^t the
poison may spread through his whole body; and as
soon as he feeleth the poison, he commenceth running
hither and thither in such v^dse that he getteth warm
and fain would sweat, and hereupon he is so purged
and purified by the operation of Nature, that he re-
taineth nothing more in his body, and so becometh
renewed and young again, and changes his old hair.
Music he loveth much, and is well pleased and joyful
when he heareth a piping or the sound of a flute, or
any gentle song.
" A stone is to be found in the deer after she hath
dropped her calf: she did eat it before to assist the
CHAPTER THE LAST. 389
birth. The stag hveth to be one hundred years old.
Three hundred years after Caesar's death one was
foiuid with a golden collar round its neck, and graven
thereon ' Caesar me fecit.' The stag hath a large
heart, and a bone therein. The stag is ashamed when
he is without his horn."
f In those ancient books, in which the noble Art
of Venerie is bravely upheld, as inferior only to the
science of war, and the excitement of the chase deemed
scarcely less heart-thrilling than a battle, much weight
is always laid on the quahfications of a hunter. " And
the hunter" — so it is written in a quaint old volmne
of some centuries ago — " shall be strong of body,
bold, and of gay disposition : in body not too stout,
in order that he may bear work, and in time of need
follow well afoot. Nor should he be too spare of habit
or meagre, in order that he may have strength in him,
and so go to meet the wild animals with greater safety.
The manly hunter foUoweth the praiseworthy pastime
of the chase, nor doth he let himself be withheld by
snow, cold, rain, water, mountain, valley, desert, hunger,
thirst, heat, unrest, vigils, work, trouble, nor danger."
Whether on the plain, in the forest, or on the moun-
tain, he who has tarried much with Nature, and made
her his companion, will, unless duller than a clod, have
at times experienced strange emotions in the soHtude ;
familiar shapes will have assumed unwonted forms,
and awe will have seized on him, and great fear ; he
will have heard " low breathings coming after him,"
or " steps almost as silent as the turf they trod ;" and
390 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
things, even low sounds, have been to him as a Pre-
sence, and he will have felt sorely troubled. And this
not merely in the darkness, but in the broad light of
noon; when the stillness of midnight seemed hang-
ing in the air, yet the sun-rays were streaming silently
down the stems of the beeches, and there was no liv-
ing creature to be seen. At such times I have watched
and listened, — listened long and earnestly, not will-
ing, not venturing rather, to break by my steps the
profound repose. Once, I remember, on an Autumn
day, when in a wood in Suabia, I suddenly looked
round, and behold 1 right before me, on a clear space
amid the bushes, stood a deer at gaze. To me then
it seemed no ordinary creature, but of gigantic size,
the like of which I had never seen before. There it
rose above a little knoll, encircled in golden light, and
its vast form surrounded with a glory. We gazed for
some time at each other in great astonishment; and
had I beheld a bright cross gleaming over its head,
such as St. Hubert saw, I could not have been more
amazed. Suddenly it bounded away, and the spell
was broken.
Wordsworth, in his ' Prelude, ' describes with won-
drous truth such visionary appearances, and the men-
tal organization that called them forth. He tells how
in the dusk some peak, as " with voluntary power in-
stinct," upreared its head, and growing still in size,
and seemingly "vrith purpose of its own, strode after
him." And very fine, because so very true, is the
picture of him who, " in majestic indolence," wanders
CHAPTER THE LAST. 391
on the hills, and sees objects, in portentous size, loom-
ing through the mist. Indeed no other poet has
passages so full of the spirit of mountain scenery as
Wordsworth. It is true they are the phenomena of
such heights only as Westmoreland and Cumberland
present; but though these are not high mountains,
they have a solemn character of their own, and the
mists assemble there, and silence is round them, except
when the sough of the wind is heard. The generality
of persons tarry amid the grandeur but a short time,
and then describe their impressions of its subhmity
and their own great wonderment. But it is not by
mere passing visits that intimate acquaintanceship can
be formed : he only who lives with Nature long and
frequently can obtain an insight into all her hid-
den ways. Nor does she reveal herseK but to him
who truly loves her : he must learn to interpret her
changeful countenance, not by scientific rules, but by
the force of sympathy, — the sympathy of deep affec-
tion. And it is such famiUar intercourse that forms
one of the great charms experienced by him who, with
rifle at his back, stalks up the mountain, or sits watch-
ing on its summit.
The forest, like the mountain, has a dehght of its
own, — a pecuhar, mysterious influence, which grows
around the heart, and holds it with the power of a
sweetly-influencing speU. The voices and breathings
there are different to those heard among the rocks, —
that peculiar rustle, as of passing wings, still heard
when not a breath is stirring, — the mm'mur among
392 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
the branches, and the whisper which floats above the
ground, as though the spirits of the flowers were
moving about with a hush in that forest world, — all
this keeps the eye, and ear, and mind vigilant, and
you tread with caution and expectancy among the
creeping sunbeams and quickly-flitting shadows. You
hear steps now, and the low footfall sounds strangely
in that solitude ; but it is retreating, and soon is lost
in the surrounding silence. You saw nothing, and it
is this very circumstance which imparts mystery, and
makes you listen still when the pattering sound has
quite died away. Or in strolling on, you will sud-
denly look round, and from out a thicket see two
large bright eyes and a hairy face meet your gaze,
and looking fixedly upon you. It is as though the
woods were once more peopled with their ancient in-
habitants, and the fawns and satyrs again returned
to their old leafy home.
Every people while yet young, while their instincts
are still fresh and their sympathies keen and ahve to
natural influences, has made the forest their temple;
choosing, if they built an altar, the dense interlacing
branches of venerable trees for the roof that was to
shelter it. They felt how solemn was the subdued
light, and the trembling stillness : the low murmur
attuned their simple minds religiously, and a presen-
timent awoke within them that there " was a spirit in
the woods."
And now even in the songs you hear the young
hunters sing, while sitting round the hearth of an
CHAPTER THE LAST. 393
evening after a good day*s sport, the forest and its
delights play a prominent part. Among the northern
nations the forest may be said to have had, and in-
deed still to have, a poetry of its own. There were
the " Wald-Marchen" and " Wald-Lieder," and in its
gloom many a myth was born. The Germans have
an appropriate word — Waldlust — to describe the pe-
culiar delight which the woodland imparts ; and as
such soHtude is also different from that experienced
any other where, for it too there is a particular de-
signation — Wald-einsamkeit.
But, as many a story in the preceding pages will
have shown, there are other far more stirring causes
of excitement, contrasting strangely enough with the
calmer pleasures I have just attempted to describe.
From time to time a report will come of the depre-
dations committed by poachers, or that one of the
foresters has been badly wounded, or that a Tyrolese
has been shot who had come across to fetch a chamois
in the Bavarian mountains. Or perhaps, according to
a preconcerted arrangement, on a certain day all the
gamekeepers will be on the look-out for miles round,
in expectation of meeting the marauders ; and, if you
also go out, the report of a rifle from some neigh-
bouring mountain fills you with expectation, well
knowing that on such an occasion the foresters would
not fire at game. It must therefore have been at
a man, unless indeed the shot was from a poacher
stalking in his old haunts ; if so, he will hardly escape
now, for the keepers will close in upon him and cut
394 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
off his retreat. Meanwhile the rocks opposite, and
the well-known passes, are carefully scanned with the
telescope, to see if any human being can be discerned
among them.
On the frontiers of Bavaria and the Tyrol a sort
of border warfare was constantly kept up, much the
same as in former days was carried on in our own
country in the Northern Marches. And as "the
Perce owt of Northomberlande" did make a vow
"to hunte in the mountaynes of Chyviat," just so
would occasionally a band of armed peasants from
the Valley of the Inn set oft' to drive the chamois on
the Plau Berg or the Miesing.
Many a deed of boldest daring occurs at such times,
when the foresters, coming up with the freebooters,
attack them at once, often without heeding their own
inferiority in number. But a dauntless bearing, a
knowledge of the ground, a quick eye, and a readi-
ness in seizing every available advantage, will nearly
always obtain the mastery, even when the odds are
most disproportionate. Tales of such sudden en-
counters with poachers, or of long and patient watch-
ings for them at some well-known pass, are never-
failing subjects of conversation ; and told too, as they
not seldom are, in the living words of passion, and
with the energy and eloquence of strong natural im-
pulse, you become aroused as the narrative proceeds ;
you share all the excitement of the stealthy approach
or the unequal strife, and feel an ardent longing to
join in the affray.
CHAPTER THE LAST. 395
The following incident, that occurred a few years
ago near Brannenburg, will show what daring and
recklessness of human life these feuds inspire.
One of the keepers, while out on the mountain,
saw three Tyrolese cross the Inn. He at once sus-
pected what was their intention, and instantly set off
for a pass among the rocks, where, if he were right in
his conjecture, he knew they would surely come. For
H an hour or more he waited, without hearing or seeing
anything of them. At length however he espied the
poachers advancing up the mountain, and, keeping
close to avoid being seen, let them approach. The
place where he stood was a narrow path, with rocks
rising on one side, and on the other a precipice.
When the men were at a short distance from him, he
stood forth and called to them to lay down their rifles.
As they did not obey, he shouted that, cowards as they
were, he would lay down his, and challenged them, if
they dared, to do the same and come on all three of
them armed only with their poles. They did so, and
the three advanced upon him. Calm and collected,
he watched his opportunity, and, as they approached,
thrust his iron-shod pole two inches deep into the
breast of the foremost man, and sent him toppling
down into the abyss. The others, terror-stricken,
sprang back to seize their rifles, but the keeper was
too quick for them ; he had already grasped his own,
and levelling it threatened to send a bullet through
the first who should dare to raise his weapon. There
was nothing left them now but to retreat ; and as they
396 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
did so the keeper fired at one, sending a charge of
coarse shot into his back and wounding him badly.
The keepers, on the other hand, well know that
should they fall into the power of their enemies, the
retribution will be terrible. An instance of this sort
was told me by a friend who knew well all the parties
concerned. I give the story in his own words.
" Meier, the forester stationed at Gmund*, was one
day out on his usual rounds, when suddenly he heard
the crack of a rifle. He went towards the place, and
there — it was on the Gschwendter Berg — he saw a
poacher standing over a stag which he had just shot.
Meier dashed at hini; they struggled long together,
but at last he overpowered the fellow, and binding his
hands together, took him as prisoner to Miesbach, to
the house of the head-forester. Here he got a light
cart and horse, with a lad for driver, and making the
poacher seat himself beside the boy, Meier walked
along near the cart, with his rifle over his shoulder.
As the man's hands were tied firmly together, he
thought there was no danger of his attempting to
escape.
" You know the road from Agathenried to Miesbach,
and how hilly and rough it is? Well, just as they
reached the steep hill, the poacher gave the lad who
was seated next him a shove, and sent him out of the
cart ; then taking hold of the reins, which he could
very well do although he was handcuffed, made the
* Gmund lies at the northern extremity of Tegernsee, on the
border of the lake.
I
CHAPTER THE LAST. 397
horse set off at fall gallop down the hill. Meier, who
was a little behind, seeing the impossibility of over-
taking him, levelled his rifle and shot him right tlirough
the middle of the back. The man rolled out of the
cart quite dead.
"This circumstance, as you may suppose, called
forth feelings of deadhest hate. All the poacher's
friends were mad with rage at their comrade's death.
Month after month this state of excitement lasted, and
time did not seem to abate their fury in the least.
They only waited for an opportunity to take their
revenge.
" It was perhaps a year, or may be a year and a half,
after Meier had shot the poacher, that he and Probst
and Euchs caught a couple of peasants out stalking
on the Schuss Kogel ; and having taken away their
rifles, and bound their hands behind them, marched
both off" to the Justice at Miesbach. On their way
(it was a most incautious thing to do, and I cannot
conceive how they could aet so) — on their way they
stopped to rest on some moss in the wood. It was
a glade-like place, some few yards in extent, with trees
all round. They were sitting here with their prison-
ers, their rifles beside them, when suddenly a band
of armed men rushed out of the wood : they had fol-
lowed the keepers through the forest, and had stalked
close up to them unobserved. What could three men
do against such a number, attacked too as they were
quite unawares ? The poachers beat them dreadfully,
and only left them when they thought all were killed.
398 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
"After a time Probst came to himself, and lifting
his head and looking round, saw the others covered
with blood, lying motionless on the ground. He got
up and tried to rouse them, but he found both were
dead — so at least he thought. He then, still bleeding
and covered with wounds, tottered homewards. After
he was gone, Fuchs recovered a little, and observed
that Probst was gone. He spoke to Meier, but found
him dead. Stunned, and bewildered, and staggering,
he still tried to reach the nearest house, and made
his way to Gmund, which was about an hour and a
half's walk distant. Meier lived here, and Puchs went
straight to the cottage to tell his wife what had be-
fallen her husband, and that he had been killed in the
wood. Hardly had he finished his story when he
fell forward, and dropped down dead on the floor.
The sudden change of temperature on coming into the
warm room out of the fresh air, added to the exertion
and loss of blood, was no doubt the cause of his
instantaneous death. Probst survived, though the
wounds in his head were terrible. He had recognized
most of the men, but when they were called upon for
their defence, each proved an alihi ; one bringing wit-
nesses to swear that on that day he was at a shooting
match in a village some miles off, and another that
at such time he was in the Tyrol ; and thus they all
managed to escape."
It was my intention, had my indisposition not pre-
vented me, to have gone from Partenkirchen to Berch-
tesgaden, and endeavoiu-ed to obtain a day's stalking
^**
CHAPTER THE LAST. 399
there. I was particularly desirous to do so, not merely
on account of the abundance of game, but chiefly be-
i cause the mountains are dijfferent in feature to those
where I had liitherto been. They are wilder and more
rugged*, and the difficult places far more frequent.
Narrow paths along a ledge overhanging a precipice
are sometimes not to be avoided : they must be passed
I in order to proceed further. In more than one place
a wall of rock shuts out all advance : a path is im-
possible in such a spot, and yet if you cmld scale that
I perpendicular face of the mountain, you would then
be able to pursue your way according to your plea-
sure. You have come so far, but further no living
thing, except a bird, can get unaided. Nor is there
any other spot where you may pass : this waU of rock
■ forms a break in your path of, it may be, a dozen
yards or so, and which but for this barrier would have
suffered no interruption. If you cannot surmount the
obstacle, you must retrace your steps for hours, and
climb up the other side of the mountain. But to pre-
vent the necessity of this, in such places bars of iron
have been driven into the rock and left projecting six-
teen or eighteen inches. They are placed slantingly
(one above another, and by them, as on the steps of a
ladder, the hunter mounts up the steep face of the
rock. He must of course be careful that his rifle does
not swing against it, and that nothing happens which
* Das steinene Meer ("The ocean of stone") is here, — so called
from the jagged rocks that, rising up one behind the other, and ex-
tending on and on, look like the waves of a petrified sea.
400 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
might make him lose his balance while thus hanging
in the air. It is essential too that he should observe
which foot and hand he begins with ; for if he put the
wrong one first, he will hardly be able to go on ; the
bars being so arranged to receive, as he mounts, this
one the left, that one the right foot, and those above
the grasp of the right and left hand accordingly. To
go up such a place is not quite pleasant, but coming
down is still less so ; for in descending you are obliged
to look below to find the projecting piece of iron on
which to place your foot at the next step, and in do-
ing this you cannot prevent your eye perceiving the
terrific depth below ; and, as I said before, this is
never agreeable. Moreover when coming downward
it is somewhat embarrassing to relinquish your hold
of one iron bar, in order to grasp the other below.
There are places in Berchtesgaden where a whole
mountain-ridge has but a single outlet — one spot only
by which even a chamois can pass out. If therefore
this be stopped up by artificial means, a natural en-
closure of rocks is at once formed, shutting in, like a
park wall, the game for many miles. This circum-
stance shows at once the abruptness of their forma-
tion. The stags, that might otherwise cross the lake
by swimming, are prevented from doing so by poles
moored in deep water, and left to float on the sur-
face. When the deer have reached the poles, their
progress is arrested; for, being out of their depth,
they are unable to climb over them ; and turning, swim
back again to the shore.
CHAPTER THE LAST.
It was here that a friend of mine performed an
exploit which hardly the boldest hunter could surpass
— a deed so very perilous that I never think of the
several circumstances attending it, without feeling
something like giddiness and being ill at ease. Yet
there is a strange charm in danger; and as a child
will ask for a tale to be repeated which it has already
often heard and been frightened at, so I inquired
again about my friend's adventure when the other
day we were once more together.
"Tell me, Arco," said I, "the story of your going
after the buck you shot near the Konigs See, — ^the
terrible place, you know, where in coming back you
grew giddy and sat down, and thought you would
never be able to get out again."
" That was on the Ober See where you mean, just
opposite Thai Berg Wand ; but I thought you knew
the story already*."
" So I do," I replied ; " you told it us all a long time
ago, one day after dinner ; but I don't remember the
particulars exactly, and I should like to hear it again."
" Well," said he, " this was how it happened : — I had
wounded a chamois, and as usual he climbed up and
passed along a wall of rock, where we lost sight of
him. We knew that he would not be able to get out
further on, for it was a terrible place, I can tell you."
" And very high up, was it not ?" I asked, inter-
rupting him, — " right over the lake."
* The spot itself where this occurred is called Sailer Statt, and is
on the Walch Hiitt Wand.
2 D
402 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
"Three thousand feet/' he repHed; "not an inch
less, — ^that I am certain of: it was a perfect wall of
rock, and below was the lake. But I do not mean to
say that the water was directly at the foot of the rock,
though from the great height it looked as if it were
so. It was perhaps j&fty or sixty feet off, but that
did not make much difference. Nor was the wall of
rock, though it looked so, as perpendicular as a plum-
met-line; sometimes it receded, and then advanced
again, as is always the case. If you had fallen, you
might have bounded off from some projecting crag
once or twice, but would at last have dropped into the
lake, though not quite at the foot of the mountain.
Well, we all said that the chamois, if left quiet, would
be sure to come down again, and that it was better
to leave him now and not follow him. The thing was,
I believe, if the truth were told, none of us had any
wish to go along that narrow ledge ; and we therefore
persuaded ourselves the best thing would be not to
disturb him. But we first made a fire to prevent his
coming back, and thus had him safe where he was
till the morrow."
" This was in the afternoon ?"
"Yes, and we then went home. The next day,
when out stalking, I looked across with my glass from
a mountain opposite to where I thought he must be ;
and sure enough I saw him on a projecting ledge,
leaning against a pine that grew out of a crevice in
the rock."
" Was he not dead then ?" I asked.
I
CHAPTER THE LAST. 403
" Yes, he was dead ; but he must have expired while
leaning against the tree, for he was sitting exactly as if
alive ; had no tree been there, he would have rolled
over, and we should never have seen anything more
of him. Well, I then went to see about fetching him
out, but they all said it was quite impossible to get
along the ledge. However the chamois was there,
and I was determined not to lose him without at least
making a trial to reach the place. So I went first,
and a young forester and one of the wood-cutters
followed."
" How broad was the ledge?" I asked.
" It was nowhere broader than from here to there,"
he rephed, pointing to two hues in the flooring of the
room, marking a space of seventeen inches wide;
" broader than that it was nowhere — of that I am cer-
tain ; but in many parts it was not larger than this bor-
der," pointing to some inlaid woodwork, seven inches
wide ; " and on one side, rising up above you, the wall
of rock, and on the other a depth of 3000 feet down to
the lake. We went along some way, when there, right
before us, was a gap, — not very broad, it is true, but
still too wide to step across, or even for a jump. The
cleft was perhaps five and a half feet wide, and below
in the chasm it was wild and frightful to look at."
" But how was it possible to pass ?"
"We had a tree cut down, and flung the stem
across, and went over one after the other. At last
we reached the place where the chamois lay. It was
a green spot, just large enough for us three to stand
404 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
upon, — as nearly the size of this round table as may
be (forty-two inches in diameter), only it was rather
longer at one end, which gave us more room to open
and clean the chamois. Now we had to return, and
to carry the buck with us ; that was the most difficult
part of our undertaking."
" It was in going back you grew giddy, was it not ?"
"Yes, for the first time in my life. It was not
exactly giddiness either, but rather fright, — a feeling
that now it was all over with me, and that I should
never come out again. But there was no time to lose,
or it would really have been all over with me ; so
pulling out my flask, I took a long di-aught of the
spirit that was in it, and sat down to recover myself."
"But where? — not on the narrow ledge surely?"
" Yes, on the ledge, with my feet hanging over.
I was obliged to sit down. I sat there for about a
quarter of an hour. But then came the getting up,
— that was a difficult piece of work ; for as the ledge
was narrow, I could not turn as I should have done
anywhere else; for, if I had, my shoulder or elbow
or head might have knocked against the rock behind
me, and that, causing me to lose my balance, would
have sent me over ; so I was obliged to get first one
foot up very carefully, and then at last the other,
and when that was done, all the rest I managed well
enough. Nothing on earth however should ever in-
duce me to go that way again."
" How long was the way altogether ?" I asked, —
" the ledge that projected from the face of the rock."
CHAPTER THE LAST. 405
" Altogether about two hundred yards. But then
you must not think it was everywhere so narrow as
this strip of wood, though often it was not broader ;
nor was the rock at our side everywhere quite per-
pendicular ; but sometimes it sloped back, now more,
now less, which of course made it much easier for us.
If it had been the whole way so narrow, nobody in
the world could have borne it ; and the rock was not
everywhere quite smooth ; but here and there, exactly
perhaps where the ledge was narrowest, would be
a little roughness or projection, on which we could
hold with our fingers ; and that, you know, was quite
enough to make the passage possible. For example,
at the gap across which we flung the tree ; there, rising
up from below, was the point of a rock. We could
just lay hold of it, by stooping down as we crossed
our narrow bridge. This was a lucky chance, for
without such help we could not possibly have passed,
there being nothing on either side to steady ourselves
by : the cleft in the rock went all the way up, and
to walk across that fir-tree like a rope-dancer, three
thousand feet high in the air, was no joke. As it was,
that chance piece of rock helped us over capitally.
" But the rock, I suppose, rose some height beside
you, did it not? for, if not, it must have been very
difficult to make an aid of it in crossing."
" No," rephed my friend, " the rock only came up
just to about the tree. That was the difficulty : we
had to stoop down, almost sitting on the ground, and
planting one foot firmly on the ledge, to shde the other
406 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
forward, till we thought we could manage to reach as
far as to the point of rock, without losing our balance.
We tried first of course, then stretched out one hand
further and further till at last we had reached it.
Once in our hand, it was all right. Then the other
foot was to be gently advanced close to the first ; and
again shded carefully forwards to the opposite ledge ;
and when it was firmly planted there, and we thought
we were well balanced, the bit of rock was let go, and
the foot still on the middle of the tree was quickly
brought up beside the other. Luckily the rock rose
just in the centre of the gap ; for if it had been nearer
one side or the other we could not have accomphshed
the passage, as it would then have been impossible to
reach and lay hold of the stone, while one foot was
still on firm ground."
" When you came back, how did you lift the cha-
mois over the gap ?" I inquired. " You surely did not
carry him over ?"
"No indeed, it was as much as we could do to
get over ourselves, without having a dead weight like
that at our backs. When we had him so far, we
pushed him forwards on the tree, till one of us on
the opposite side could lay hold of his fore legs and
pull him over ; but we tied him first to a rock : we
dared not trust to our being able to hold hini; for
had he slipped while in our hands, he would have
pulled us over too."
" But," said I, "to me it is unintelligible how it is
possible to get along a ledge so narrow, when you have
CHAPTER THE LAST. 407
a wall close beside you. Your o^ti shoulder or hip,
knocking against it, must make yeu lose your balance.
It is all very well when the face of the rock inclines
away from you ; but when straight up, — that is what
I do not understand." And I tried to move along-side
the wall of the room with my body close against it.
" In that way of course you cannot/^ said he, watch-
ing me. " For it is an old joke to place a person with
one foot close against a wall, parallel with it, and to
tell him to lift up the other. He is tmable to do it of
course; he loses his balance at once; but move your
foot a little, with your toes to the waU, and heel over-
hanging the ledge," he continued, and trying the ex-
periment himself, while he spoke, — "no, that is not
quite enough yet, — a little more, — ah! yes, that will
do now. You see now I can lift up the other foot."
And turning with his face to the wall, he moved a
step in advance. "And then, as I said before, the
wall is seldom quite straight, and one can hold on a
little here and there. But it was not merely ourselves
— there was the tree — we had to go back and drag
the tree along the ledge."
" I only wonder that you found any one to accom-
pany you. I am surprised that, when the others saw
you were determined to venture, they did not let you
make the attempt alone."
" No, no," he replied, " they would ri^t do that ;
first they think that they climb better thian any one
else ; and that, where a gentleman goes, they can also.
Beside this, 1 must say, all those fellows in the moun-
408 CHAMOIS HUNTING.
tains never desert you in time of need : they have a
feeling of honour, which I never met with in a Hke
degree elsewhere. I went, and that was enough ; they
would be sure not to stay behind."
"It is the only time you were giddy : I suppose it
is the ugliest place you ever were in, is it not ?"
" Why yes, I cannot remember having been in any
more dangerous. But what was so disagreeable in this
case, was having to return by the same path ; that
makes the matter a thousand times worse. In going
the first time, if you do feel uncomfortable, you have
the consolation of knowing that you are leaving the
danger behind you, and that every step brings you
nearer the accomplishment of your undertaking. Be-
sides, the first time the difficulties are all new; you
are not aware how great they are, till you are in the
very midst of them and they are half over ; and, be-
fore you have time to get ill at ease, they are nearly
passed : but in coming back again the same way, you
have a foreknowledge of "the danger to be incurred ;
you remember what you felt when in the difficult
situation the first time, and have an unwillingness,
a thorough disinclination, to endure the same once
more. AH is so fresh in your mind, that you hang
back when called on to do it over again. And as
you proceed, in approaching some ugly place, your
thoughts are occupied with it all the while ; instead
of being calm, you are excited, and fancy makes the
difficulty greater even than it is. If fear once gets
hold of you under such circumstances, you are almost
CHAPTER THE LAST. 409
surely lost. It was fear, not giddiness, that overcame
me, and made me sit down ; for had I been giddy, I
could not have looked, as I did, into the depth below ;
but it was a feeling of horror at the place I was in, a
shuddering dread that I could not shake off. What I
drank saved me; without it I should not have been
able to free myself from that overwhelming anxiety."
But it is time this last Chapter should come to a
close. In it I have dwelt purposely on the particular
sources of joy for him who follows the game upon the
mountain, and the varied excitements that from time
to time will stir up his heart. In the others it was
my wish, while describing the art of chamois-hunting,
to give some account of mountain life ; to introduce it
as a fitting background, although not absolutely neces-
sary to bring out the principal objects of the picture.
With regard to the accounts of each day's stalking,
it must be remembered that, with one exception, 1
hunted always in places whei;e the chamois had been
harried in the preceding years, and where conse-
quently scarcely a head of game was left. Success
therefore was difficult of attainment, though aU the
sweeter on that account than it would have been
under more favourable circumstances. It is perhaps
well that it was so uncertain, for repeated fruitless
attempts teach more than the brightest good fortune ;
and, after all, one learns nothing really well except by
such experience. Be it not thought, however, that in
saying this I mean to exalt myself into an authority ; I
am well aware that, between my experience in chamois
2 E
410
CHAMOIS HUNTING.
hunting and that of a sportsman Hke my friend Count
Max Arco, there is about as much difference as might
be found in the mihtary knowledge of a lieutenant
who had served a campaign, and that of a Wellington
or Radetsky. Such as it is, hoAvever, the record is a
faithful one ; in no one instance am I conscious of
exaggeration, or that a single assertion may be found
which is not truth.
THE END.
PRINTED BY
JOHN BDWARD TAYLOE, LITTLE QUEEN STEEET,
LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS.
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