The Tokay district--Visit at Schloss G------Wild-boar
hunting--Incidents of the chase.
My first expedition to the Tokay district was in the winter; I was then
the guest of Baron V----, who has a charming château, surrounded by an
English garden, in this celebrated place of vineyards.
In the winter there is a very fair amount of good sport in this part of
Hungary. Sometimes one is enabled to go out hare-shooting in sledges; of
course the horses' bells are removed on these occasions. Hares are not
preserved in the Tokay district, but they are pretty numerous. I myself
shot fifty-four in the space of a few weeks, which is nothing compared
to an English battue of a single day; but then this is sport, and there
is immense pleasure in dashing right across country behind a pair of
fleet horses, thinking yourself well repaid if you bag a couple or three
hares in the afternoon's scamper. For wolf and wild-boar hunting one
must penetrate into the forests which extend in the rear of the
southern slopes of this Tokay range of hills.
During my stay at G---- a party was got up for a few days' shooting in
the interior. On this occasion we were to shoot in Baron Beust's
forests, which extend over an area of about forty miles square; as it
may be supposed, the sport is not the easy affair it is in the
well-stocked parks of Bohemia.
There was not snow enough for sledging, so we drove to the rendezvous on
wheels, using the springless carts of the country, the roads being far
too rough for ordinary carriages. Wrapped in our _bundas_, we were proof
against the cold. The wolf-skin collar turned up rises above the head
and forms a capital protection; and very necessary it was on this
occasion, for there was a keen cutting wind the day we started.
I carried a smooth-bore breechloader charged with the largest buck-shot
in one barrel and with a bullet in the other. In Hungary the forests are
usually so thick that one scarcely ever fires at a long range, and heavy
shot at a short distance in a thicket is better than a bullet. After
driving in a break-neck fashion for about two hours we arrived at the
river Bodrog, a tributary of the Theiss. Nearly every winter the country
hereabouts is under water; I remember once seeing it when there was all
the appearance of an extensive inland sea. Sometimes the inundations are
disastrous, but the ordinary flood is an accepted event, and no damage
accrues beyond the prevalence of marsh fever in April and May, when the
water recedes. This part of the country offers first-rate
wildfowl-shooting in the season.
Everywhere in Hungary the different races are strangely mixed up
together: the Tokay Hegyalia, it is true, is chiefly peopled by Magyars,
and the language is said to be the purest Magyar spoken anywhere; but
there are Slavs and Jews amongst them, and our drive of twenty miles
brought us into an area where the Slavs predominate. The difference of
these races is very marked: the one, fair complexioned and blue eyed;
the Magyar, dark, almost swarthy amongst the lower classes. At
Olasz-Liszka, a small town within the Tokay district, there is an
Italian colony, as the name Olasz (Italian) would imply. As long ago as
the days of Bela II. this place was peopled by Italian immigrants from
the neighbourhood of Venice, invited hither by the king, who greatly
encouraged the cultivation of the vine.
Go where you will in this country, there is a Babel of tongues. In this
instance our special coachman was a Bohemian, speaking his own
language--a very different dialect from the Slovacks who were the
"beaters" for our hunt. The gamekeepers, or rather the foresters (for
the game is of secondary consideration), were all Magyars. Their
language, as we know, bears no affinity to any of the rest. The marvel
is that the world gets on at all down here. The gentlemen of our party
spoke together indifferently German, French, and English.
It is curious to hear the peasant come out with, "Why the Tartar are you
doing this?" for an angry expletive. It is a relic of the old troubled
times when the country suffered from the frequent depredations of Turks
and Tartars. The Tokay district, say the chronicles, was fearfully
harassed by the Turks as late as 1678.
It is worth while recalling a contemporaneous fact. In 1529 the crescent
had been substituted for the cross on the Cathedral of Vienna to
propitiate the Turks, and it was not till 1683 that the symbol of the
dreaded Moslem was removed. When the Hungarians ceased to fear the Turk,
they ceased to hate him; and since 1848 they remember only the generous
hospitality of the Porte, and the cruel aggressions and treachery of the
Russians. The Slav has a longer memory, for to this day he repeats the
saying, "Where the Turk comes, there no grass grows."
When we arrived at our destination our appetites were far too keenly set
to think about the Eastern Question, and right glad were we to see
active preparations for supper. The national dishes, the _gulyas hus_
and the _paprika handl_, were produced amongst a number of other good
things, such as roast hare. You get to like the _paprika_, or red
pepper, very much. I wonder it is not introduced into English cookery,
it makes such a pretty-coloured gravy. If the traveller finds himself
attacked by marsh fever, and should chance to be without quinine (a
great mistake, by the way), let him substitute a spoonful of _paprika_
mixed with a little red wine, repeating the dose every four hours if
necessary. While smoking our peace-pipes after supper, one of the
keepers came in to announce the welcome fact that it was snowing hard;
fresh-lain snow would materially increase our chances of tracking the
wild-boar.
Next morning when we started the weather had somewhat cleared, which was
just as well, seeing we had to walk two or three miles to our first
battue. Arrived at the rendezvous, we found the "beaters" waiting for
us. They were a wild-looking crew were those Slovacks, with shaggy coats
of black sheepskin, and in their hands the usual long staff with the axe
at one end. Notwithstanding their uncouth appearance, later experience
has shown me that the Slovacks, as a rule, are patient, hard-working
people.
The forest where we were consisted entirely of beech and oak. The acorns
attract the wild-boar, which have increased in a very remarkable manner
in this locality. I was told that twenty years ago there were no
wild-boar in these forests, while now there are hundreds. This seems
odd, for the oak-trees are pretty well as old as the hills, and offered
the same temptation in the way of food formerly as now. In fact the
increase of the wild-boar is a serious nuisance to the vine-grower, for
they tramp across to the southern hill-slopes, and occasionally make
raids on the vineyards, devouring the grapes with unparalleled
greediness, and what is still worse, they will sometimes plough up and
destroy a whole plot of carefully-tended vineyard.
Formerly there were many deer in these forests, but now there are only a
few roedeer. We saw no traces of wolves on this occasion, but there are
plenty in this part of the country.
We were only ten guns, and were soon posted each man in his proper
position waiting for the _schwarzwild_, as the Germans say; but, alas!
nothing appeared till the beaters themselves came in sight. So we had to
organise battue number two. The beaters walk quietly forward, tapping
the trees now and then. This is quite noise enough for the purpose of
rousing the game; if they shouted or made too much row, the game would
get wild and scared.
In the next battue I had hardly been five minutes at my post when I
heard from behind the breaking of dead branches, as of some animal
advancing slowly. It was a fine buck which made his appearance, but he
scented me and made off. Again about a hundred yards off I got a glimpse
of him between the trees. I fired with effect. We found him afterwards
about two hundred yards farther on, where he had fallen. It was very
provoking; up to lunch-time we sighted no wild-boar, though we saw by
the snow that they must have been about the hillside during the night.
We had soon a good fire blazing, at which robber-steak was nicely
cooked. I never enjoyed anything more. We washed down our repast with
good Tokay.
After luncheon we commenced work again. By this time we had advanced
into the very heart of the forest. The smooth boles of the tall
beech-trees looked grand in their winter nakedness, rising like columns
from the white frost-bespangled ground. I took up my stand, gun in
readiness, waiting for the tramp, the snort, or the grizzly dark form of
the wild-boar, but nothing came to disturb the utter solitude of the
scene.
But hark! I hear shots fired repeatedly in the lower valley. I, too,
begin to look out with quickened pulse, peering into the misty depths of
the forest, and with ear alert for every sound, but all to no purpose.
Nothing comes my way, though again I hear two more shots echo sharply in
the narrow valley nearer to me than before. After the lapse of a few
minutes the beaters came up, breaking through the dead branches of
undercover. I knew now that my own chance was gone, but I was curious to
know what had happened, and joining two of my friends whose "stand" had
been near mine, we hurried down the valley to see what sport had turned
up for the other guns. On inquiry it appeared that at least seventy
wild-boars had passed close to one of our party, but the sight of so
many at once had made his aim unsteady, and he only succeeded in
wounding one of the number. The animal had dashed into the half-frozen
stream at the bottom of the valley, and our friend had to reload and
give him his final shot there.
We formed one more battue, but nothing came of it, and it was already
high time to return to our quarters, for the whole scene was growing dim
in the wintry twilight. Some of the party, myself included, went by
arrangement to the house of one of the foresters. The good people, in
their desire to be hospitable, gave us a warm reception. They had heated
the rooms to such an extent that we were almost baked alive.
The next morning we resumed our sport. During the first battue eight
wild-boars were sighted. One was shot instantly; the others broke
through the line of beaters, but in doing so a very unusual thing
happened, for one of the foresters succeeded in killing a boar by a
tremendous blow from his axe. We were very much surprised that the
animal had come near enough, for as a rule they will not approach human
beings except when wounded, and then they are most formidable
assailants. I regret to say that one of our dogs was ripped up by one of
this herd of eight.
This was the beginning and end of our sport for the day. Our indifferent
luck was to be accounted for from the fact of there being, comparatively
speaking, not much snow.