Chamois hunting in the mountains of Bavaria ..

Preface

Iy the following pages will be found several German words often repeated ; for much as I dislike the admixture of one language with another, the present case left me without an alternative, the words in question not having an equivalent in my own tongue. I have therefore employed “ Laane,’” ‘ Latschen,” etc., each time any mention is made of these objects, thinking 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 skilful a hand as Mr. Hohe’s to transfer them to the stone.

1V PREFACE.

With regard to the scenes represented, 1 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 position of any peril. I was anxious to avoid everything that might appear like exaggeration ; and for this reason a sketch (‘‘ Descending the Mountain, ”’) which Mr. Horschelt had made was omitted, lest the darmg hardihood displayed therem might excite doubts as to its truth.

In the descriptions, also, it was equally my aim to keep rather wzthin 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 colourmg. What I saw is described as J 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.

Contents

Hart the Hirst.

CHAPTER I. Page

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER , ‘ p : ’ 1 CHAPTER II.

APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS , : f ; ! 10 CHAPTER III.

AFTER THE GOOD STAG , ’ : , ; : 28 CHAPTER IV.

THE STAG IN THE RUTTING SEASON f : ‘ 34 CHAPTER V.

A WALK TO FISCHBACHAU. : : : ; ‘ 41.

CHAPTER VI.

V1 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VIL.

AFTER THE CHASE. THE SOLACHERS

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE FALL. TO HOHENBURG AND KREUTH

CHAPTER XV.

BAIERISCH ZELL

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

Page ho co a |

CONTENTS, Vil

Part the Second, CHAPTER XVIII

Page THE PREPARATION ; : , nL.

CHAPTER XIX.

TO PARTENKIRCHEN ew t CHAPTER XX.

UP THE MOUNTAIN ' ; . 264 CHAPTER XXI.

HOMEWARDS . ha ; , : ; : . 291 CHAPTER XXII.

THE OESTER BERG : ; 3 : ; ., B02 CHAPTER XXIII.

MIST ON THE MOUNTAIN 7 : : ; Rone 4s CHAPTER XXIV.

THE OLD BUCK . , . 326 CHAPTER XXV.

A STROLL WITHOUT MY RIFLE Y . 842

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE KROTENKOPF AND THE KRAMER . F . ~~ 862

Vill CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XXVII.

A CHAPTER ABOUT SCHNADAHUPFLN

CHAPTER XXVIII.

CHAPTER THE LAST Hist of Milustrations

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

IN

THE MOUNTAINS OF BAVARIA.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.

Axsout 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 delightful excitement of novelty. As the woods whither we were going were some distance off, the whole party assembled 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 flymg snow-flakes as the light-limbed Hungarian horses dashed on over the smooth frozen surface—the benumbed passers through B 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 crackling 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 wondering over the snow. It was a new world to me, all this, and every incident gave me fresh delight. Later _came the chase of the boar; and in summer-time I was on the hills, or moving amid the deep stillness of the woods at noon after the majestic stag. That, 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 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 tocome. 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 palpitation, 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 I thought how new and strange all had once appeared

B 2 to me, how delighted I had been on first stalking through the forest, and how many there were in England 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, mdolently 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 joiming his party when the season began. Overlookmg 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 pourmg in from all sides to the trysting-place, bringing with them the expected intelligence. In Svein 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 thmk. They must have been disturbed, for ‘“‘he had had them there’ for four successive days, and they were there yesterday. Suddenly perhaps a messenger would arrive, all breathless 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 mformation contained in the head-forester’s hastily written note. What excitement was there then, and what hopes and questionings! As I look back on these days, I can hardly believe that all is now over, that the forests are as deserts, no longer peopled by their red mhabitants— 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” 1s one with twelve points or branches to his antlers.

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 durmg the shooting season was usually jomed 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 Berchtesgaden, or tell of the merry life they led on the less formidable mountains and in the Senn Hitten* of Baierisch Zell; while on another occasion our very blood would almost curdle, as we listened 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 Hiitte, the same as ‘ Chalet.” The hut inhabited by the herdsmen and the dairy-maids during their summer sojourn on the mountain.

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 m the golden light 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, like all genuine feeling, 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 ravmes 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 realized, and I stood upon the mountain-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.

. 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 overflooding gradually the plas of snow, the loud cry of joy of the peasant-girl rmging 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 imcident 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 bearmg of the chamois, the occasionally 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 appeared ; but when the new world that mountain life presents opened upon me, the former wish arose again, and I determmed 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.

CHAPTER I.

APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS.

Hz only who has dwelt in the mountains, or has wandered for a time over their sides and through their valleys,—who has entered the simple but comfortable cottages, and chatted familiarly with the peasantry im their own peculiar 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 covermg 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 mountain-top ; you again snuff the

APPROACHING THE MOUNTAINS. ll pure bracing air; and the shout and the Jodler* of the shepherd-boy or Sexnerinn+ already 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. Tt looks gay, and green, and cheerful. And 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 joppet 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.

+ Senner—Sennerinn. Dairy-man—dairy-maid.

t Joppe is the loose short coat worn by the mountaineer of Bavaria, and by the Tyrolian péasantry.

among another race than those we left behind in the flat country. It sounds pleasantly too—gratefully falling on the heart rather than on the ear—that fnendly “Gruss di Gott!’ (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 according well with, a mountaim people. And how clean the village looks, how neat and healthy its mhabitants! They live better and work less hard than the peasantry 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 carefully along yonder ridge that cuts the sky so sharply ! For that is the Plau 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 cloud in the sky, and the sun lights 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 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 herface; 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

* 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 (Atvegel Haube) 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 silver coin of two groats value; on his waistcoat the same. On the frieze joppe of the mountaineer, however, there 18 no opportunity for such display.

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, Iam 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 autumnal 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 festoons 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 returning for the winter from the mountain pasturage.

They are splendid animals of the Altgau breed; short legged, full uddered, and with dewlaps like the Colchian 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 wae Dame du palais insist upon having the yas 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 1s 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 paradise. 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 returnimg home to the valley. He looks calmly about him, but greets no one: he feels that to-day e is the principal personage ; he is celebrating his triumph. 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. Following 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 Alm”’ 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 Alm*!”’ is quite musical with pleasure, and their faces are radiant with thoughts of the life awaiting them on the green mountain slopes. But when meeting 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 ”’

a verdant piece of table-land, free and unbounded up among the mountains, or else may be on

* «To the pastures on the mountain !”

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 whole face of the stupendous wall of grey rock is flushing in . gratulation; all is teeming with sunbeams and brilliancy; the haze over the lake and river divides and evaporates ; and shore and village, upland and hamlet lie before her eyes clear and distinct in the dewy freshness 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 delight ; 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 gf freedom by a loud burst of song; and if ever content, joy, and lightheartedness were expressed in sounds, they are to be found in the simple melody of such mountain carol. I know nothing like it. How loud, how high, some of the notes! how rapidly they change! what gladness is in that jod/er, and how boundingly the song returns from the high shrill tone, descending note by ‘¢ 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 distant huts yonder answering the other.