opened now. The peasants must be paid for
driving, the expense of enclosing is too great,
and the game is not so plentiful as of old. The
only reminiscence left of that time is in the
quaint perspectiveless pictures which you can
see yonder in the schloss, and the gallery of
noble antlers laid out in the passages.

My old forester was a good illustration of
that class of people who believe, and therefore
affirm, that the new generation is not equal to
the old; that the world degenerates every day;
and that it would be much better for it if it
could possibly retrograde instead of progressing.
I ventured to say to my old friend, "I won't
trouble you with some of the remarks which
are made frequently in these days as to the character
of treib-jaqd, or battues according to the
old system, ft is sufficient to say, that many
people think it well that the old system should
nave necessarily fallen into disuse. They consider
it somewhat cruel, and the present system
more sportsmanlike. I, for my part," I went
on, "was yesterday so lucky as to be one of the
ducal party, and we had some very good sport.
It is true we did not kill seventeen stags, or
fifteen dams, or twenty-five calves, or thirty roe-
bucks, but we inhaled the mountain air, we
killed two splendid stags, and roamed freely
over the hill-sides. We started at nine in the
morning down the beautiful vale, which on the
west is overlooked by the lofty summits of the
Gipfelberg. The peasants on the road greeted
us as we passed, with a cheerful 'good day.'
The rye-fields waved in the breeze, and the
bright green flax-fields gave a rich colour to the
landscape, strongly contrasting with the dark
rocks and stern pines of the hills. We clattered
through the pebble-paved streets of a little village,
in the gardens of which were strewn the
linen clothes set out to bleach, whilst in the
brawling brook industrious women washed the
yarn destined for the winter loom. We turned
in towards the hills, got under the pines, and
found ourselves, in a short time, amongst a
motley group of drivers in various quaint costumes:
each carrying a hunch of black bread,
a porcelain pipe, and a stick; coarse clad
and sometimes tattered they were, whilst conversing
with them were sundry foresters in
green, with peaked hats adorned with the feathers
of the hawk, carrying rifles and smoking
cigars. (Cigars are cheap here, you know; you
get four for a groschen, and, though I can't smoke
them, those who do, say they are good.) Some
of the keepers held bloodhounds and quaint-
looking turnspits in leashes, and the brutes
smelt the powder, and whined and fretted for
action, apparently as anxious about the sport
as we were. A signal was given and we moved.
Silently we entered; the high pines towering
seventy or eighty feet above us; silently we trod
the thick green moss, and crushed the yellow
mushrooms. We crossed a clearing, another
high plantation, and came to a wide patch of six
old wood. Along the high pines which
surrounded it, a rope was run, on which were
hung yellow and blue cloths, and between it
hung another rope, forming chevaux-de-frise of
goose quills; you know what that is for. It
does not prevent the stags from passing, but
makes them halt and hesitate before they pass.
At one corner of the plantation, looking down a
cleared path, about twelve feet wide, I was
posted, and left in solitary stillness.

"The wind sighed through the pines, and seemed
to dull my sense of hearing, as after many minutes
I heard no sound. Presently, in the extreme
distance, I heard a faint hoi! hoi! from many
voices, and I knew the drive had commenced.
Another minute, and a rifle shot was heard; then
the barking of a cur in the underwood in my
direction, and a great trampling. I cocked my
gun and waited breathlessly; there was a great
crackling of branches, the hollow tramp sounded
nearer, and out with a spring comes the royal
stag across the little cleared space! Off goes
my rifle; it's like firing at a shadow, no time
given for deliberation; but is he hit? Surely
the ball has struck him, for here is blood on a
sprig of pine. The drive is over; the men again
congregate, a stag has been wounded by the
duke. I show my sprig of pine and point to
the blood. The head forester takes it, rubs the
blood on his hand, looks at it for an instant,
throws down the sprig, and quietly proceeds to
organise a search for the stag wounded by the
duke.

"I felt rather humiliated; I didn't know why.
Surely, I thought, the animal is wounded, else
whence the blood.

"Said the duke, smiling, 'It is certain that
you hit the animal, you cannot, however, tell
where you struck it. The forester knows that,
as if he had seen it. We will ask him. Where,'
said the duke, 'was that blood from?'

"'About the heel,' said the forester.

"'Then we shall never catch him?'

"'Never,' was the reply.

"I thought he was pretending to a knowledge
he did not possess, but the duke said:

"'By long practice, these men know accurately,
from the colour of the blood, where an animal is
wounded. The lighter the colour, the lighter
the wound. But in order that you may be entirely
satisfied, now that some time has elapsed
since your shot, we will send a bloodhound on
the track—that liver-coloured dog, for instance,
who never failed us yet. It is his peculiarity
that he never gives up a scent after he has taken
it, and has gained the conviction that the animal
is likely to die. So, if after a hundred yards the
dog halts, you may take it that the stag is so
slightly touched that he is as strong as ever.'
The dog took up the scent, followed it fifty
yards, and then lay down quietly, lolling out his
tongue. 'Now,' said the duke, 'you might
thrash that dog for ten minutes, and he would
not resume the scent.' I pocketed my disappointment,
and I joined the party, which now proceeded
to follow the wounded stag, whose blood
lay plentifully sprinkled upon the moss and
pines along the course he had taken. The
spot where he had been first struck was easily
found again, for, in obedience to the true rules