forest. After we had roamed through the forest in many directions,
and had visited more than twenty eyries of buzzards and ospreys and
black storks, and had refreshed and strengthened ourselves with an
excellent breakfast provided for us, and still more with the delicious
wine of the district, we set out on our return journey to the ship,
urged to haste by threatening thunder-clouds, but still hunting and
collecting as time and opportunity allowed. Our route was different
from that which we had followed in coming to the forest; it was a good
high-road connecting a number of villages. We passed through several
of those, and again the road led us between houses. There was nothing
remarkable about the buildings, but the people were stranger than my
fancy could have pictured. The population of Dalyok consists almost
solely of _Schokazen_ or Catholic Servians, who migrated from the
Balkan Peninsula, or were brought thither by the Turks, during the
period of the Turkish supremacy. They are handsome, slender people
these Schokazen, the men tall and strong, the women at least equal to
the men, extremely well built and apparently rather pretty. We could
form a definite opinion with regard to their figures, but, as far as
their faces were concerned, we had to depend to some extent on our
own imagination. For the Schokaz women wear a style of dress which
will hardly be found elsewhere within the boundaries of Europe at the
present day: a dress which our princely patron, happy as usual in his
descriptions, called mythological. When I say that head and face were
almost entirely enveloped in quaintly yet not unpicturesquely wound and
knotted cloths, and that the skirt was replaced by two gaily-coloured
apron-like pieces of cloth, not connected with each other, I may leave
the rest to the most lively imagination without fearing that it will
be likely to exceed the actual state of things. For my own part I was
reminded of a camp of Arab nomad herdsmen which I had once seen in the
primitive forests of Central Africa.
At dusk, under pouring rain, we reached our comfortable vessel. Rain
fell the following morning also, the whole day was gloomy, and our
expedition was proportionately disappointing. All this impelled us to
continue our journey, though we look back gratefully on those pleasant
days on the Bellye estate, and though it would have been well worth
while to have observed and collected there a few days longer. With
warm and well-earned words of praise the Crown Prince bade farewell to
the officials on the archducal estate; one glance more at the woods
which had offered us so much, and our swift little vessel steams down
the Danube again. After a few hours we reach Draueck, the mouth of
the river Drau, which thenceforward seems to determine the direction
of the Danube bed. One of the grandest river pictures I have ever
seen presented itself to our gaze. A vast sheet of water spread out
before us; towards the south it is bounded by smiling hills, on all
the other sides by forests, such as we had already seen. Neither the
course of the main stream nor the bed of its tributary could be made
out; the whole enormous sheet of water was like an inclosed lake whose
banks were only visible at the chain of hills above mentioned; for
through the green vistas of the forest one saw more water, thickets,
and reed-beds, these last covering the great marsh of Hullo, which
stretches out in apparently endless extent. Giant tree-trunks, carried
down by both streams, and only partly submerged, assumed the most
fantastic shapes; it seemed as if fabled creatures of the primitive
world reared their scaly bodies above the dark flood. For the “blonde”
Danube looked dark, almost black, as we sped through the Draueck.
Grayish-black and dark-blue thunder-clouds hung in the heavens,
apparently also amidst the hundred-toned green of the forests, and
over the unvarying faded yellow of the reed-beds; flashes of lightning
illumined the whole picture vividly; the rain splashed down; the
thunder rolled; the wind howled through the tops of the tall old
trees, lashed up the surface of the water, and crowned the dark crests
of the waves with gray-white foam; but away in the south-east the sun
had broken through the dark clouds, edged them with purple and gold,
illumined them so that the black shadows grew yet blacker, and shone
brightly down on the smiling hills, which lead up to a mountain range
far away on the horizon. Below and beyond us lay hamlets and villages,
but, where we were, at most a cone-shaped, reed-covered fisher-hut
broke the primeval character of the magnificent scene, which, in its
wildness and in the weird effect of the momentary flashes of light, was
sublime beyond description.
The scarcity of birds was striking, as indeed was the desolateness of
the whole sheet of water. Not a gull floated over the mirror of the
Danube, not a tern winged its zigzag flight up and down; at most a
few drakes rose from the river. Now and then a common heron, a flight
of night-herons, an erne, and a few kites, hooded crows and ravens,
perhaps also a flock of lapwings, and the list of birds which one
usually sees is exhausted.
From the following day onwards we hunted and explored a wonderful
district. The blue mountains, upon which lay bright, golden sunlight
during the thunder-storm of the previous day, are the heights of
Fruskagora, a wooded hill range of the most delightful kind. Count
Rudolf Chotek had prepared everything for the fitting reception of our
Prince, and thus we enjoyed several days which can never be forgotten.
From the village of Čerewič, on the upper side of which our vessel lay,
we drove daily through the gorges, climbed the heights on foot or on
horseback, to return homewards each evening delighted and invigorated.
The golden May-tide refreshed heart and soul, and our host’s untiring
attention, complaisance, courtesy, and kindness went far to make the
days passed at Fruskagora the pleasantest and most valuable part of our
whole journey.
It was a charming district, about which we roamed every day. Around
the village was a range of fields; beyond these a girdle of vineyards
which reach to the very edge of the forest; in the valleys and gorges
between them the innumerable fruit trees were laden with fragrant
blossom, which brightened the whole landscape; on the banks, beside
the road which usually led through the valleys, there was a dense
growth of bushes, and the refreshing charm of the wealth of blossom was
enhanced by the murmuring brooks and trickling runlets of water. From
the first heights we reached the view was surprisingly beautiful. In
the foreground lay the picturesque village of Čerewič; then the broad
Danube, with its meadow-forests on the opposite shore; behind these
stretched the boundless Hungarian plain, exhibiting to the spectator
its fields and meadows, woods and marshes, villages and market towns in
an unsteady, changeful light, which gave them a peculiar charm; in the
east lay the stronghold of Peterwardein. Larks rose singing from the
fields; the nightingale poured forth its tuneful lay from the bushes;
the cheery song of the rock-thrush rang down from the vineyards; and
two species of vulture and three kinds of eagle were describing great
circles high in the air.
When we had gone a little farther we lost sight of river, villages,
and fields, and entered one of the secluded forest-valleys. The sides
of the mountain rise precipitously from it, and, like the ridges
and slopes, they are densely wooded, though the trees are not very
tall. Oaks and limes, elms and maples predominate in some places,
copper-beeches and hornbeams in others; thick, low bushes, which
shelter many a pair of nightingales, are scattered about the outskirts
of the forest. No magnificent far-reaching views reward the traveller
who climbs to the highest ridge to see Hungary lying to the north, and
Servia to the south; but the mysterious darkness of the forest soothes
soul and sense. From the main ridge, which is at most 3000 feet in
height, many chains branch off on either side almost at right angles,
and have a fine effect from whatever side one looks at them. Among
them are valleys or enclosed basins whose steep walls make transport
of felled wood impossible, and which therefore display all the natural
luxuriance of forest growth. Gigantic beeches, with straight trunks
smooth up to the spreading crown, rise from amid mouldering leaves
in which the huntsman sinks to the knee; gnarled oaks raise their
rugged heads into the air as if to invite the birds of prey to nest
there; dome-like limes form such a close roof of leaves, that only
a much-broken reflection of the sun’s rays trembles on the ground.
In addition to the nightingale, which is everywhere abundant, the
songsters of this forest are the song-thrush and blackbird, golden
oriole and red-breast, chaffinch and wood-wren; the cuckoo calls
its spring greeting from hill to hill; black and green woodpeckers,
nut-hatches and titmice, ring-doves and stock-doves may be heard in all
directions.
We had come here chiefly to hunt the largest European bird of prey,
the black vulture, Fruskagora being apparently the northern boundary
of its breeding region. The other large European vulture had recently
appeared in the district, probably attracted by the unfortunate victims
of the Servian war, and both species brooded here protected by the
lord of the estate, who was an enthusiastic naturalist. I was already
acquainted with both these species of vulture, for I had seen them on
former journeys, but it was a great pleasure to me to observe them in
their brooding-place, and hear the reports of my fellow-sportsmen and
of Count Chotek; for on this expedition also our main desire was to
increase our knowledge of animal life. Here again we were able to make
a long series of observations, and many aspects of the life of both
these giant birds, which had hitherto been obscure to us all, were
cleared up and explained by our investigations.
The crested black vulture, whose range of distribution is not confined
to the three southern peninsulas of Europe, but extends also through
West and Central Asia, to India and China, is resident in Fruskagora,
but after the brooding season he frequently makes long expeditions,
which bring him regularly to Northern Hungary, and frequently to
Moravia, Bohemia, and Silesia. His powerful wings enable him to
undertake such expeditions without the slightest difficulty. Unfettered
by eggs or helpless young, he flies early in the morning from the tree
on which he has passed the night, ascends spirally to a height to which
the human eye unaided cannot follow him, then with his incomparably
keen, mobile eye, whose focal distance can be rapidly altered, he scans
the horizon, detects unfailingly even small carrion, and alights to
devour and digest it, or to store it in his crop. After feeding he
returns to his accustomed place, or continues his pathless journeying.
Not only does he carefully scan the land lying beneath him, perhaps
for many square miles, but he keeps watch on the movements of others
of his species, or of any large carrion-eating birds, that he may
profit by their discoveries. Thus only can we explain the sudden and
simultaneous appearance of several, or even many vultures beside a
large carcass, even in a region not usually inhabited by these birds.
They are guided in their search for prey, not by their sense of smell,
which is dull, but by sight. One flies after another when he sees that
he has discovered carrion, and his swiftness of flight is so great that
he can usually be in time to share the feast, if he sees the finder
circling above his booty. Certainly he must lose no time, for it is
not for nothing that he and his kin are called “_geier_”; their greed
beggars description. Within a few minutes three or four vultures will
stow away the carcass of a sheep or a dog in their crops, leaving
only the most trifling remains; the meal-time therefore passes with
incredible rapidity, and whoever arrives late on the scene is doomed to
disappointment.
The country round Fruskagora yields a good deal more to the vultures
than an occasional feast of carrion, for in the stomachs of those which
we shot and dissected we found remains of souslik and large lizards,
which are scarcely likely to have been found dead, but were more
probably seized and killed.
On account of the northerly situation of Fruskagora, and the
well-ordered state of the surrounding country, which is not very
favourable to vultures, the black vultures were still brooding during
our visit, though others of the same species, whose haunts were farther
south, must undoubtedly have had young birds by that time. The eyries
were placed in the tallest trees, and most of them on the uppermost
third of the mountain side. Many were quite well known to Count Chotek
and his game-keepers, for they had been occupied as a brooding-place
by a pair of vultures, possibly the same pair, for at least twenty
years, and as they had been added to each year they had assumed very
considerable proportions. Others seemed of more recent origin, but all
were apparently the work of the vultures themselves. In the oldest and
largest of them, a full-grown man could have reclined without his head
or feet being seen projecting over the edge.
Under these eyries we sat watching, listening to the life and bustle of
the woods, and waiting in the hope of getting a shot at the vultures
which our approach had scared away. For four days we went to the
splendid woods every morning, and never did we return to our vessel
empty-handed. No fewer than eight large vultures, several eagles, and
numerous smaller birds fell to our guns, while valuable observations,
which fascinated us all, added zest and interest to our sport. But
when the last rays of the sun had disappeared, the younger portion of
the population assembled about our ship. Violin and bagpipes joined
in a wonderful but simple melody, and youths and maidens danced the
rhythmically undulating national round dances in honour of their august
guest.
After we had hunted successfully on both sides of the Danube, we took
leave, on the fifth day after our arrival in Čerewič, of our most
devoted host, the lord of the estates, and continued our journey down
the river. In three-quarters of an hour we passed Peterwardein, a
small, antiquated, but picturesquely situated stronghold, and an hour
and a half later, we reached Carlowitz, near which we spent the night.
The next morning we reached Kovil, the goal of our journey.
In the neighbourhood of this large village, and girdled by cultivated
fields, there are woods in which the oak predominates, but which have
such a dense undergrowth, that notwithstanding the many villages about,
the wolves and wild-cats lead a threatening but scarcely threatened
existence in them. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that birds
of prey of all kinds, especially sea-eagles, imperial eagles, spotted
eagles, and booted eagles, “short-toed eagles”, kites, hawks, horned
and other owls should have chosen them as a nesting-place, and that
they should also harbour all kinds of small birds. Sure of rich booty
the Crown Prince and his brother-in-law directed their steps to these
woods, while Eugen von Homeyer and I tried our luck up-stream beyond
the village, in a marsh which the flood, then at its height, had
transformed into a great lake.
[Illustration: Fig. 82.--Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (_Parus
pendulinus_).]
A surprisingly rich and varied life reigned in this marsh, though
only a very small fraction of the feathered population could be seen,
and indeed the tide of migration was still in full flood. Great
flocks of black terns flew in almost unbroken succession up the
river, sometimes assembling in compact swarms, sometimes distributing
themselves over the whole breadth of the flooded Danube; hundreds of
glossy or dark ibises wandered up and down the stream, flying in the
usual wedge-shaped order towards or away from the neighbouring river
Theiss, apparently still in search of suitable nesting-places; purple
herons, common herons, and squacco herons strode about fishing in all
accessible parts of the great expanse of water; marsh-barriers flew
along their accustomed routes carrying long reed-stalks to their nests;
ducks, mating a second time because the flood had robbed them of their
eggs, rose noisily from the water on the approach of our small flat
boat, while grebes and dabchicks dived for safety--in short, every
part of the vast expanse was peopled. A forester well acquainted with
all the paths through the submerged wood, awaited us in a house which
rose above the flood like an island, and acted as our guide through a
forest-wilderness which far surpassed all that we had hitherto seen,
for the water had added new obstacles to those always present. Brushing
past many branches which must usually be high above the ground, often
stooping beneath boughs which blocked our way, we attempted to find
a route between half or wholly fallen trees, logs, and drift-wood,
and to penetrate to the heart of the forest. Brooding mallards, whose
nests in the tops of the willows had been spared by the flood, did not
rise on our approach, even though we glided by within a yard of them.
Eared grebes, which were out on the open water, when they saw us,
swam sideways into the green thicket of tree-crowns, chiefly willows,
which rose just above the surface; water-wagtails ran from one piece
of drift-wood to another; spotted woodpeckers and nut-hatches clung to
the tree-trunks close to the water, and searched for food as usual. One
picture of bird-life crowded upon another; but all seemed unfamiliar,
because altered by the prevailing conditions. To reach a sea-eagle’s
eyrie we were obliged to wade a long distance; to visit a raven’s nest
we had to make a wide détour. Hunting in the approved fashion was
impossible under such circumstances, but our expedition rewarded us
richly. To me personally it afforded the pleasure of seeing one of the
best of the feathered architects of Europe, the penduline titmouse,
at work on its nest, and of observing for the first time its life and
habits.[88]
The following day our whole company assembled in one of the woods
already mentioned. A Hungarian forester had made preparations for a
wolf-drive on a grand scale, but had arranged it so unskilfully that
Friend Isegrim succeeded in slipping away unperceived. The unpromising
chase was therefore soon abandoned, and the short time which remained
to us was devoted to more profitable observation of the bird-life in
the forest.
In the course of the same afternoon we left Kovil, reached Peterwardein
the same evening, steamed past Fruskagora early in the night, left the
vessel once more the following day to hunt in the marsh of Hullo, saw
there the noble heron which we had until then sought for in vain, but
were obliged to hurry onwards so as not to miss the fast train for
Vienna. Gratefully looking back on the days we had spent, and lamenting
the swiftness with which they had sped, we steamed rapidly past all the
river forests, which had afforded us so much enjoyment, and, with the
ardent wish that we might some day return to spend a longer time in it,
we took leave of this rich and unique country.
NOTES BY THE EDITOR.
THE BIRD-BERGS OF LAPLAND.
For other pictures of Arctic Natural History the reader may profitably
consult the following works:--
Collett, R. _Bird Life in Arctic Norway._ Trans. by A. H. Cocks
(London, 1894).
Nordenskiöld, A. E. _The Voyage of the “Vega” Round Asia and Europe_,
with a Historical Review of Previous Journeys along the North Coast of
the Old World (Trans. by A. Leslie, 2 vols., London, 1881).
Gilder, W. H. _Ice-Pack and Tundra_, an Account of the Search for the
_Jeanette_, and a Sledge Journey through Siberia (8vo, London, 1883.
Chiefly personal, not scientific).
Hovgaard, A. _Nordenskiöld’s Voyage Round Asia and Europe_, a Popular
Account of the North-east Passage of the _Vega_, 1878-80 (Trans. by H.
L. Brækstad, 8vo, London, 1882).
Pennant’s _Arctic Zoology_ (1785).
Note 1: p. 38.--_Dense masses of fish._
I have consulted a Scandinavian pisciculturist, who, while not
corroborating the occurrence of such vast multitudes, admitted the
periodic appearance of dense local swarms, such as are sometimes seen
in the lochs in the west of Scotland.
Note 2: p. 45.--_The female eider-duck plucking the male._
The popular story of the male eider being made to furnish down for the
nest, after the mother-bird’s supply is exhausted, must, we fear, be
regarded as a misstatement. See Newton’s _Dictionary of Birds_ (London,
1893), and other authoritative works on ornithology. Perhaps the story
has some basis in the fact that for a short time after the breeding
season the males undergo a change of plumage, becoming less decorative
and more like the females.
Note 3: p. 48.--_Economic value of eider-down._
According to Stejneger, each nest yields about an ounce and a third.
From Greenland and Iceland alone, six thousand pounds, or the contents
of seventy-two thousand nests, are yearly exported. Nordenskiöld
notes that the quantity of eider-down brought from the polar lands to
Tromsöe amounted in 1868 to 540 kilogrammes, in 1869 to 963, in 1870
to 882, in 1871 to 630, in 1872 to 306, and that the total annual yield
may be probably estimated at three times as much.
Note 4: p. 57.--_Auks._
A graphic description of the King-auks (_Alle alle_), which breed in
Spitzbergen, is given by Nordenskiöld in the work above mentioned.
The name auk is oftenest applied only to the razor-bills, but is also
used collectively for other members of the family Alcidæ, such as
guillemots and puffins.
Note 5: p. 59.--_Altrices and Præcoces._
Altrices or nidicolæ are those birds which are more or less helpless
when hatched. They are often blind and naked, and unable to leave the
nest. The food-yolk has been mostly or wholly used up before birth, and
the young depend on what their parents bring them. Examples are doves,
hawks, and passerine birds.
Præcoces or nidifugæ are those birds which are more or less able to run
about when hatched. They are born with their eyes open, with a covering
of down, and with much of their yolk still unused. Examples are running
birds, fowl, gulls, and ducks.
THE TUNDRA AND ITS ANIMAL LIFE.
In addition to Nordenskiöld’s voyage, and other works already cited,
the following may be consulted by those who wish to amplify their
picture of the Tundra and its life:--
Seebohm. _Siberia in Asia_ (1882).
Jackson, F. G. _The Great Frozen Land_ (Bolshaia Zemelskija Tundra).
Narrative of a winter journey across the Tundras and a sojourn among
the Samoyedes (ed. from the author’s journal by A. Montefiore, 8vo,
London, 1895).
Note 6 and 7: pp. 63 and 71.--_The Tundra._
With Brehm’s picture of the Tundra, it is interesting to compare that
given by Mr. Seebohm in his address to the Geographical Section of the
British Association at Nottingham, 1893. (_Scottish Geogr. Magazine_,
ix. (1893), pp. 505-23, with map.)
“In exposed situations, especially in the higher latitudes, the tundra
does really merit its American name of Barren Ground, being little
else than gravel beds interspersed with bare patches of peat or
clay, and with scarcely a rush or a sedge to break the monotony. In
Siberia, at least, this is very exceptional. By far the greater part
of the tundra, both east and west of the Ural Mountains, is a gently
undulating plain, full of lakes, rivers, swamps, and bogs. The lakes
are diversified with patches of green water plants, amongst which ducks
and swans float and dive; the little rivers flow between banks of rush
and sedge; the swamps are masses of tall rushes and sedges of various
species, where phalaropes and ruffs breed, and the bogs are brilliant
with the white fluffy seeds of the cotton-grass. The groundwork of all
this variegated scenery is more beautiful and varied still--lichens
and moss of almost every conceivable colour, from the cream-coloured
reindeer-moss to the scarlet-cupped trumpet-moss, interspersed with a
brilliant alpine flora, gentians, anemones, saxifrages, and hundreds of
plants, each a picture in itself, the tall aconites, both the blue and
yellow species, the beautiful cloudberry, with its gay white blossom
and amber fruit, the flagrant _Ledum palustre_ and the delicate pink
_Andromeda polifolia_. In the sheltered valleys and deep water-courses
a few stunted birches, and sometimes large patches of willow scrub,
survive the long severe winter, and serve as cover for willow-grouse or
ptarmigan. The Lapland bunting and red-throated pipit are everywhere
to be seen, and certain favoured places are the breeding grounds of
plovers and sandpipers of many species. So far from meriting the name
of Barren Ground, the tundra is for the most part a veritable paradise
in summer. But it has one almost fatal drawback--it swarms with
millions of mosquitoes.”
Note 8: p. 72.--_The Mammoth._