EUROPEAN BIG GAME
BY MAJOR ALGERNON HEBER PERCY
BROWN BEAR HUNTING IN RUSSIAN LAPLAND
Ursus arctos, the bear of Northern Europe, exists rather plentifully
in the forests to the extreme north of Russian Lapland. This bear is
omnivorous: he feeds on roots, leaves, wild berries such as molte
berries (which grow in large quantities in the Northern swamps), and
is especially fond of the giant angelica, which occurs occasionally in
patches. To salmon or other fish he is extremely partial, and I have
seen places where he has been gorging himself on salmon on the Valasjok
river, where the first fosse is divided into a large and small fall by
an island in the middle of it. Salmon endeavour to go up both falls,
and when the water is low the small fall ceases running and the pool
below it drains out, leaving any fish that may be there imprisoned
to die, a fact immediately taken advantage of by bears in search of
dinner. Bears are carnivorous when they get the chance. The largest
brown bear I shot in Russian Lapland measured 8 ft. from the tip of his
nose to the tip of what we must call in courtesy his tail. Brown bears
have the most extraordinary tenacity of life; no wound is instantly
fatal except in the brain or spine, or incapacitates from attack,
except perhaps if the bullet takes effect in the kidneys. The bear’s
enormous muscular strength is very apparent when he is divested of his
warm fur coat; indeed the Russian Lapps, or ‘Nortalash,’ as they call
themselves, say that a bear has the strength of ten men and the wisdom
of five. Consequently they fear him extremely and with good cause, I
myself having seen a Lapp horribly scarred on the head and face by a
bear. My own experience is that brown bears invariably charge, if they
can, on receiving a bullet.
There are two ways of hunting the Northern brown bear which have proved
successful for the single hunter: either by tracking the animal with
a carefully trained dog, or by discovering the places where he finds
some special delicacy, and waiting at a considerable distance for him
to come to feed, then stalking him and getting a shot. Further south,
in Norway, where there is a larger and settled population, a drive or
‘clap-jaght’ is often organised, but unless extremely well arranged
by a person in authority who thoroughly knows the ground as well as
the men and the habits of the bear, the drive in my perhaps unhappy
experience is seldom successful.
Too often the drivers are armed with guns and rifles, and I have vivid
recollections of spending an animated twenty minutes lying flat on
my stomach with Remington rifle-bullets whistling overhead, and an
excitable brother sportsman dancing to and fro with a double-barrelled
rifle at full cock, jumping to fire at the first thing that stirred. I
prefer less excitement, and less motion in the play. There is another
method of hunting the bear, when he has hibernated in the den he has
found during the autumn, carefully composed of moss and dry leaves,
under some rock or tree root. This style of hunting I have not seen,
but the Earl of Kilmorey has kindly forwarded me an account of it. As
I said before, bears are excessively fond of berries, and nothing is
more amusing than to come up to a bear which has made a really good
meal, and having over-eaten himself with berries has been attacked by
subsequent stomach-ache. His complaints, moans, and attitudes are so
human as to be irresistibly ludicrous.
When I first went to Russian Lapland I walked many miles in the sun-lit
nights of summer, tracking, or endeavouring to track, bear, and I have
also waited by calves and lambs tied up, but all without result; yet
I have invariably been successful when I have found any quantity of
angelica in a suitable country, and have watched it with glasses from a
distance.
On August 1, 1873, my wife and I started from Pechinka Fiord with a
fjeld Lapp, and rowed up a little river which runs into it till we
could not use our oars; we then landed and _tracked_ the boat as far
as possible, and finally carried her bodily half a mile through the
forest of birch, carpeted with quantities of yellow globe flowers, wild
geraniums, red campion, and other flowers, to a large sheet of water,
called by the Lapps St. Trefan’s Lake. We pulled right up this lake to
the extreme end (about seven or eight miles), trolling for trout on
our way. To keep out in the lake as we did, in a small boat composed
of four planks and a bottom sewn together with reindeer thongs, was,
as I afterwards found out, an extremely risky experiment; for on a
subsequent occasion, while crossing in the same boat, we were caught
in the middle of the lake by a thunderstorm, accompanied by very heavy
squalls of wind, which soon raised such waves in the fresh water that
we had to bear up and run before it, the Lapp pulling all he knew, and
my own strength being fully exercised with the steering oar to keep her
dead before the wind, as the slightest coming to on either side must
have inevitably ended in a capsize--no joke with a lady in the boat, in
the icy waters of a lake 3° north of the Arctic Circle. However, I kept
her straight until near the shore, which was rocky, when, seeing the
water had shoaled, and that if we ran on at the pace we were going we
must inevitably smash the boat, I caught hold of my rifle, sang out to
everybody to look out, and turned her broadside on about six yards from
the shore. We were swamped at once, but in water not much above our
knees, so that we managed to catch hold of the boat, and carried her
safely out.
However, on the date I am writing about we had no such adventure; the
day was bright, and the scenery beautiful. At the end of the lake a
huge terrace, covered with grass, extended between two ranges of
mountains, the terrace’s top as level, and its side as accurate, as if
made and turfed by a landscape gardener, the only difference being that
it was about two hundred feet high. Behind it we could see mountain
after mountain, their sides and summits, broken and jagged, extending
far away. The ground between the terrace foot (from which, as from the
bowels of the earth, a little river ran brawling to the lake) and the
margin of the lake was covered with a dense forest of birch. This we
passed through, and making a wide détour down wind, we climbed a hill
behind and overlooking the top of the terrace. When we arrived there
we saw on the top of the terrace some curious circular basins, all
containing water. Their diameter would be about two or three hundred
yards. A strong stream ran into the right-hand basin, but there was no
apparent outlet to any of them. Doubtless the water from these basins
fed the subterranean stream that issued from the foot of the terrace.
All round the basins, and extending for some distance from the margin
of the water, was a rank and luxuriant growth of giant angelica. Far
down below us we could see with the glasses a magnificent reindeer
feeding--a runaway from one of the tame herds, no doubt. We had a
capital place, the wind blowing straight from the basins to us. Keeping
a sharp look-out, we discussed some smoked salmon and bread, and had
hardly finished it when suddenly a bear appeared, waddling with his
quaint, slouching gait to the edge of one of the basins, where he began
to feed greedily on the sweet angelica. I slipped down at the back of
the hill, leaving my little party to watch him from the top. Getting
quickly under cover of some birch-trees, I descended, silently crept
up to the edge of the basin, and, peeping from behind a bush, saw him
about 150 yards away, but his head was towards me; so, wishing for a
better chance, I crawled back, and, making a circuit, got up again
within eighty yards. This time his side was towards me, and I got a
steady shot from behind the bush, aiming behind the shoulder. The bear
sprang up with a loud roar, and, looking round to see ‘who hove that
brick,’ charged straight up the bank, getting my second barrel as he
came. He charged thirty yards without a falter, and then suddenly
collapsed and rolled over stone dead. After loading I walked up to
the bear, first throwing some stones at him to make sure he was not
shamming, and found it was an old, large she bear; that both my shots
had hit her, the first behind the shoulder, having cut right through
the heart, and yet, notwithstanding this and the second shot through
the chest, she had managed to charge thirty yards apparently uninjured.
We had much trouble to convey the head, skin, and some of the meat down
to the boat, which was greatly overloaded; but the weather was dead
calm, so that, keeping close along the shore, with continual bailing,
we arrived safely at the end of the lake, where, leaving the boat, we
carried the trophy down to another boat on the Fjord, and so home about
2 A.M.
[Illustration: ‘This time his side was towards me’]
Next day several Lapps came and looked at the bear, and expressed
themselves well pleased that she was killed. I noticed that when they
saw the skin they invariably crossed themselves, and, if not prevented,
spat at it. A Norwegian told me that the Lapps dread bears very much,
and will not attempt to hunt them except in parties of five or six.
On another occasion a bear let me off in the kindest manner. My wife
and I, our Norwegian servant and a Lapp, had ensconced ourselves in a
good position, overlooking an excellent feeding place, and had hardly
settled ourselves before we saw old Bruin come waddling down for his
dinner. I was then shooting with a double-barrelled Purdey polygroove
muzzle-loading rifle, a most excellent weapon, but requiring a nice
adaptation of the sights for any distance over a hundred yards, and
slow to load, the bullet having to be entered into the grooves of the
muzzle by force. I now quote from my wife’s journal:
A. then crept down to stalk him, leaving us on the hill holding
our breath with excitement and lying with our heads over the side
of the rock in front of us. A. made a good stalk, but was not
able to get near Bruin on account of the wind, so he lay down in
the grass and put up the 150-yards sight, took a steady aim, and
pulled. The bullet, we think, must have hit the ground under the
bear’s foot, for afterwards, on looking over the ground, we found
that the distance must have been at least two hundred yards, the
line being partly over water, and very deceptive to the eye.
Anyhow, up jumped the bear on his hind legs to look all round
for the being who had sent that nasty whistling ball, and seeing
no one, he began to move quickly off in the contrary direction
to where A. lay hid. A. then let drive the second barrel, which
turned the bear, who then made straight for him. A. was unable
to see the bear on account of the scrub (though we could see
perfectly well from our elevated position), and before he had
time to reload, old Bruin appeared fifteen yards from him. Both
were equally surprised at the meeting. A. stopped loading to
pull out his hunting-knife, putting it into his teeth, expecting
a charge, and then went on loading, and there they stood, man
and bear, looking at each other for a full minute; but before
A. had time to get his muzzle-loader capped, the bear had seen
enough--had turned, and was off. We watched all his movements
from the hill. It was so curious seeing him, the whole thing
seemed all at once to flash on him, and then he was off; the more
he thought of it the less he liked it and the faster he went,
until at last he raced _ventre à terre_, jumping the fallen trees
in his path. Once only, just on the brow of the hill, did he look
back, and then away he went, faster than ever, and disappeared in
the birch scrub. We then came down and hunted the birch scrub,
with no results; but on one of the hills we found a place he was
accustomed to lie up in, so snug, in between two rocks on the
brow of the hill, where he could see all round him, and yet the
rocks sheltered him. He had scratched up the moss and had made a
soft bed, with a raised pillow at one end. It was a great pity
that A. did not get him, for he was a very large bear, and must
have been old, as he had such a white muzzle.
For myself, I confess I was glad that I had not touched him, as during
the time we faced each other it was simply on the balance whether that
inconvenient change was not going to occur when the hunter begins
to be the hunted. I have since invariably shot with a Henry Express
double-barrelled rifle.
Again watching a favourite feeding place in a similar manner, I saw a
very large bear, and managed to get up to within a hundred yards of
him, when he offered me a good side shot. I fired, aiming as usual
behind the shoulder. On receiving my fire he charged straight at me,
whilst I slipped in a cartridge to receive him. He charged fully forty
yards at best pace, and, just as I was about to endeavour to give him a
head shot, he reared straight up his full height, smashing down a young
birch-tree with his weight, stone-dead. This was the largest bear I
have shot. His heart was absolutely shattered by the Express bullet.
BEAR DRIVING IN RUSSIA
BY THE EARL OF KILMOREY
No sportsman passing a winter in Russia should leave the country
without trying his hand at bear shooting.
It is not necessary to go great distances from St. Petersburg to
satisfy every desire, as plenty of bears are to be found in the
enormous forests which still cover innumerable square miles in the
immediate neighbourhood of the principal lines of railway. Moreover,
to simplify matters for residents and foreigners alike, information
concerning the whereabouts of bears is being constantly brought to St.
Petersburg during the season, either by letter, or more often by estate
agents or by the head-men of villages, who come up to the capital for
the purpose.
Personal interviews are to be preferred, at which all the necessary
arrangements can be entered into, prices fixed, contracts for beaters
and sledges made, and a plan of campaign drawn out and agreed
upon. The countrymen accustomed to this business not unfrequently
exhibit considerable intelligence when an amount of organisation
and generalship is required which would much interest and amuse our
keepers and stalkers at home. Old hands always make payment by results
the basis of their contracts, for disappointments are frequent, no
doubt unavoidably so in some cases, though very often the unconscious
sportsman is made to wade through the whole business of the _chasse_,
everyone present, barring his innocent self, knowing full well that Mr.
Bear _nyett doma_--i.e. is not at home.
Russians are beginning to fear that foreigners will soon spoil their
sport, as foreigners usually do, by paying too much per pood for their
bears, too much per diem for their conveyances, too much for their
lodgings, and too much _na tchai_ (tea money) at the close of the
proceedings; but, under the direction of gentlemen who can speak the
language fluently, who understand the people and their peculiarities,
and who are thoroughly ‘posted’ in the whole business, one cannot go
far wrong. After six days’ continuous sledging, we bagged four bears
out of six promised, a fair average considering the market value of
promises. For this sport we paid at the rate of ten roubles per pood,
lodging, beaters and _na tchai_ included, so that our bill only came to
60_l._, which I do not think excessive, considering we covered over 400
versts, or about 260 miles. There is no doubt that the man you contract
with makes a fine profit over the sledges, but I believe the money paid
out is fairly divided among the beaters, and averages about 25 copecks
a head, equivalent to 6½_d._ in English money.
Finding your bear depends mainly on the strict sobriety and untiring
vigilance of the men employed as watchers during December and January.
As soon as the first snow has fallen, the villagers turn out in
search of tracks, and when the animal’s winter quarters have been
approximately discovered, a circle is marked out, within which, unless
fresh tracks indicate a move, the bear is certain to be enclosed. This
is called ‘ringing.’
Bears, unless wantonly disturbed, will scarcely ever move when they
have once comfortably established themselves, though cases are on
record where they have been known to sally forth with extraordinary
caution in search of food; but as a rule they remain at home, content
with the nourishment said to be derived from sucking their own paws.
This being so, it is remarkable to find bears still in excellent
condition after many weeks of somnolent starvation.
Should the watcher get drunk, as is not unfrequently the case in
Russia as in other countries, and let the bear escape unperceived, or
should he develop a desire to rival Ananias or Ah-Sin--a practice not
altogether peculiar to the Russian peasant either--then the sportsman’s
lot is not a happy one.
A very favourable opportunity of securing several bears at no great
distance from St. Petersburg having presented itself to me at the
beginning of March 1889, I gratefully accepted an invitation to
join an expedition into the province of Novgorod, organised by Count
Alexander Münster, son of the distinguished Ambassador of that name so
well known to us from his long residence in England.
Our third ‘gun’ was M. Constantine Dumba, First Secretary to the
Austrian Embassy, whose agreeable companionship added considerably to
the pleasure of the trip.
With these gentlemen I arrived at Malo Vyschera, a station 152
versts down the direct line from St. Petersburg to Moscow, at 7.30
P.M., March 2/14, 1889, had supper, and after packing ourselves, our
trusty henchmen, and our provisions into country sledges which baffle
description, started _à la belle étoile_ at 9.15 P.M. The moon was
nearly at her full, the thermometer at -9° Réaumur (about 9° Fahr.,
or 23 degrees of frost), and not a breath of wind. The sensation of
gliding along through the silent night, comfortably wrapped up and
extended at full length on the hay with which each sledge was amply
provided, was most enjoyable. The weird beauty of the forest scenery by
moonlight, the countless rows of dark firs, the silvery birches, the
sudden clearings, all exciting the imagination, whilst the constant
jolts and dislocation of the body, resulting in curses loud as well
as deep, forbade sleep till the small hours. I had, however, begun to
slumber, when we were tumbled out to change sledges at a small village
called Falkova, at about 1.15 A.M. While fresh horses and drivers
were being collected we had tea in the principal room of the posting
house, which we found very clean, dry and comfortable. I am afraid we
disturbed the family in their beds on the top of the stove, which may
sound strange in English ears; but these stoves, being made of brick
and cement and about the size of a pianoforte van, whole families can,
and do, sleep atop of them without inconvenience. At 2 A.M., or a
little after, we were again _en route_.
I have experienced extreme cold in various quarters of the globe, but
recollections of nocturnal expeditions in Canada at Christmas time,
and of middle watches on the fore bridge rounding Cape Horn in May,
fade into nothing compared with the memory of what the air felt like
in the province of Novgorod in the early morning of March 5/18, 1889.
We were covered with hoar frost, and our coat collars and comforters,
where they crossed over our faces, were frozen as hard as boards. We
calculated that the thermometer stood at -24° to -28° Réaumur that
morning between three and five o’clock.
6 A.M. brought us to a waking village called Zaruchi, 72 versts (or
about 48 miles) from Malo Vyschera, where we were not sorry to make a
light breakfast of the inevitable tea. Here began what turned out to
be our daily disappointments. Three bears, which we had fondly hoped
to have encompassed and slain in that immediate neighbourhood, had
been quietly disposed of during the past week to higher bidders, and
three lynxes, said to have been seen not far off only the day before,
were an hour later reported to have ‘vamosed.’ There was no good
waiting any longer at Zaruchi, so as soon as fresh sledges had been
provided, we started again on a 40-verst stage to Crasova. The rising
sun changed the entire aspect of affairs; gradually the air got warmer,
and very often in sheltered places the heat was almost oppressive. At
Crasova, where we put up at the agent’s house, we lunched and made
arrangements to pass the night, and at 1 P.M. we started once more to
drive 15 versts to our first bear. There is no denying that fatigue
and sleeplessness were now beginning to tell, and that all hands were
dog-tired; but excitement kept us up.
We arrived on our ground about 3 P.M., and, leaving our overcoats in
the sledges, placed ourselves unreservedly under the direction of one
Alexei Nicolaïevitch, as general of the division, his two brothers,
Ivan and Dimitri, acting as brigadiers.
Before us was ranged the army of beaters, collected from the immediate
district, some seventy to eighty persons of all ages, sorts, sizes and
sexes, a goodly show. The beat on this, as on other occasions, was
arranged in the shape of an elongated square, the guns being placed in
line at the end nearest the starting point.
The approximate position of the bear having been indicated in a hoarse
whisper by Alexei Nicolaïevitch, he proceeded to post the guns. Having
drawn lots before starting, as we do at home when grouse or partridge
driving, I was No. 1, M. Dumba No. 2, on my left, and Count Münster
No. 3, still further in the same direction, at, I believe, about fifty
yards apart.
No. 1 has almost always the best of it, Alexei invariably posting him,
as he thinks, right opposite the bear. It is from No. 1 that the army
of beaters silently diverges, making a large circuit right and left,
and meeting again at a point in the forest, perhaps a verst or more
distant, far in the rear of the bear, facing the line of guns. When
the wings of beaters meet, and the cordon is complete, the whole set
up an appalling shout; the far side gradually advances until the area
enclosed is reduced to about half its original size; then the beaters
begin to draw inwards, shouting, screaming, snapping off old guns, and
rattling sticks. After an interval of ten or fifteen minutes, according
to the nature of the ground and the temper of the bear, he or she,
as the case may be, begins to move, though sometimes the creature
positively refuses to stir, actually seeming to prefer to be shot
sitting.
The yelping of a dog who had attached himself to our party--a sort of
stunted, wiry-haired, wolfish-looking collie--very soon gave notice
that the bear was afoot, and she (for it proved afterwards to be a she
bear) appeared suddenly among the trees right in front of me, about
eighty yards off: a poor harmless, distressed-looking object blundering
along in the deep snow. Bears move a great deal faster over the ground
than they seem to do, and having selected a convenient clearing not
twenty yards off as a good place in which to cover her, I had not long
to wait before she tumbled headlong into it over the stump of a big
tree. This sudden and unexpected fall at the moment of firing rather
disturbed my aim, and the bullet struck her somewhat higher than I had
intended, going bang through her, ripping up the muscles of her back,
and bringing her to the heraldic position of ‘_ours couchant_.’ The
novelty of the situation, my inability to see my companions, and my
ignorance in concluding that one shot is ever sufficient, except in a
vital spot (it is not always so then), deterred me from firing again,
as I ought to have done; and in the exuberance of my spirits I was
about to run in and ‘put her in the bag,’ when she got up, and, moving
a pace or two forward, received her quietus through the heart at the
hands of M. Dumba, who was only a few yards off.
Immediately a bear is defunct a curious scene takes place. The
beaters run furiously together, all radiant with joy and streaming
with perspiration. Many of them cross themselves devoutly, and sing
a melancholy ditty descriptive of the death of their enemy. As every
male peasant in Russia carries an axe, and has a long scarf bound round
his greasy sheep-skin coat, in less than no time a young tree is cut
down and fashioned into a convenient pole, and the bear’s legs being
made fast over it with one or more scarves, the triumphal procession
staggers through the snow towards the nearest sledge. This, our first
bear, weighed 5½ poods, i.e. about 15 stone, and was light in colour,
as bears generally are in the province of Novgorod. The heaviest bear
shot during the expedition weighed 6½ poods, or about 260 lbs. (40
Russian pounds go to the pood).
One word of advice in conclusion: when a bear is crossing in front of
you, there is no time to lose if you have--if only for a second or
two--the clear space between you and him, which you ought to try for.
Two seconds before he ‘opens,’ he will be sheltered from your fire in
the thicket to your right, and in two more, if you hesitate, he will
be out of range again in the trees to your left; and if he is coming
straight to you, aiming is not as easy as may be supposed. The poor
brute goes floundering along, with a pitching motion not unlike that
of a waterlogged ship in a heavy sea. At one moment he is crawling
awkwardly over a fallen tree, at the next he is almost lost to sight in
the deep snow. It is on such occasions more than any that the sportsman
must remain cool. More shots have been clean missed at close quarters
than at thirty and forty yards, and though as a rule the animal’s sole
idea is how to escape from the din around him (the idea of attacking
his disturbers rarely occurring to him), still instances have been
known, and not unfrequently, when an old she bear with cubs has stood
up and charged. Poor thing! she has not much chance against two rifles,
a bear spear, a long hunting-knife and a revolver, which generally
constitute the equipment of a _chasseur d’ours_.
AUROCHS HUNTING
BY MAJOR ALGERNON HEBER PERCY
The European bison, or aurochs, _Bison Bonasus_, which used to roam in
large herds over Europe, is now exclusively confined to the forest of
Biolvitskia, in Lithuania, where it is known by the name of zubr.[15]
It has long been protected and preserved here most strictly, and has
been kept solely as a royal quarry, certainly from the time of the
kings of Poland.
Its habits appear much to resemble those of the wood bison of America
now almost extinct; for example it makes itself mud baths like the
well-known buffalo wallows in the plains of North America. Heads of
these magnificent animals being excessively rare, I give the dimensions
of the bull and cow which I killed and have now set up:
Bull Cow
Tip of horn to tip of horn 18½ ins. 6 ins.
Base of horn to tip round curve outside 17½ ” 15¼ ”
” ” inside 13½ ” 10 ”
Circumference of horn at base 10 ” 8 ”
Across forehead 13 ” 10 ”
In August 1879, by Lord Dufferin’s great kindness, I received
permission from the then Emperor of Russia, Alexander II., to visit the
forest of Biolvitskia to hunt aurochs, and was directed to call on the
Minister of Domains in St. Petersburg for directions when and where
to go. The Minister, M. Walouieff, was most civil and kind; indeed, I
may say at once that I met nothing but the most extreme kindness and
hospitality from all Russian gentlemen during my visit to their country.
[Illustration: Group of aurochs]
Accompanied by my wife and a courier I arrived at Grodno, where I had
expected to have a keeper put at my disposal to assist me in finding
and stalking the bison; but was rather taken aback at being met at the
station by the Governor-General de Ceumern, the Minister of Domains of
the province, and a posse of gendarmes.
On the night of our arrival, the Governor-General and Madame de Ceumern
entertained us most hospitably, and on the morrow, together with the
Minister of Domains, accompanied us by rail to the station nearest to
the aurochs’ forest. From that station we drove to the house of the
forest ranger, M. Campione, and there supped.
I found that all preparations had most kindly been made for me, and
after supper with the Campiones we drove on through the forest, which
was lovely in the moonlight, the white rays shining through the leaves
here and there, lighting the gnarled trunks of the trees with a touch
of silver, anon bursting through a glade and throwing a weird gleam on
the mist hanging by the little streamlets, and then at a turn of the
road (the moon being brought in front of us) making the most lovely
vistas of interwoven branches and leaves, in black on a silver ground.
We arrived late at the Czar’s shooting palace, a small but most
comfortable house standing in the centre of the forest, where we were
luxuriously put up.
The next morning I carefully unpacked and overhauled my rifle, a
Henry express made especially for me. I have shot with it a good many
years, and believe that a small weight of lead properly placed--but I
will not bore my readers with the old arguments. After breakfast the
Ranger, the General, and Madame de Ceumern accompanied us to one of
the keepers’ houses where we were to wait. It was a small cottage, and
I fear the entrance of our party disconcerted the chasseur’s wife,
who, poor woman, was standing by the swing cradle of her newly-born
child. As the woman bowed repeatedly when we came in, I laid a few
rouble notes on the coverlet, asking Madame de Ceumern to explain that
they were for a christening present. This she kindly did when, to my
horror, the mother prostrated herself before me, and endeavoured to
kiss my shooting-boots. I hopped backwards round the room like a hen,
and the grateful female on hands and knees after me. The rest of the
party seemed to enjoy the incident too keenly to answer quickly to my
frantic appeals to them to tell the good lady to desist; but, as luck
would have it, she never caught me, only very nearly, for she went with
remarkable ease and speed on her hands and knees.
Soon after this M. Campione came in and told us that we must take our
positions, whereupon my wife and I proceeded with M. Campione and a
chasseur to my post, by a large uprooted tree at some distance from
the hut. The forest was here rather open; on my left stretched a small
glade, which gave me a clear view of anything crossing it to a distance
of about two hundred yards. On the right, though the trees were
fairly thick, there was but little underwood. In front the bushes and
undergrowth were much denser, but the ground sloping away from where I
stood gave a view of a small clearing about three hundred yards off.
Between this clearing and my right and left I could see nothing but
underwood.
[Illustration: Aurochs’ heads]
A great many of the large forest trees were magnificent limes which
supported quantities of wild bees, of which there are so many in
the forest that men were employed to rob the nests of the honey. M.
Campione explained to me in a whisper that they were trying to drive
the aurochs past me, the wind being light from the front. We waited in
perfect silence for about half an hour, and then I heard the breaking
of sticks and crashing of branches, as the herd approached at a gallop.
Across the clearing they came, heading to pass me on the left across
the small glade. There were about fifteen of them, all thoroughly
alarmed, and presenting exactly the appearance of a herd of American
bison, the same carriage of the head, and the tail carried in the same
manner. Though I had but one short view of them, one bull immediately
caught my eye as being much larger than the others. As they crossed
the glade almost in file, he was the second, and M. Campione whispered
‘_Le second c’est le vieux, tirez-le!_’ At that moment they disappeared
in the brushwood, but I could hear them coming straight on towards
me, so cocking my rifle, I waited for them to cross the glade to my
left. Louder came the noise of the crashing of branches; and out burst
the leading aurochs across the clearing about eighty yards from me,
closely followed by the second and remainder of the herd. Directly
the second appeared I fired at it, and rolled it over. Reloading
quickly, M. Campione and I ran up, and found I had shot an old female
aurochs, the bull having changed his position while passing through
the underwood. ‘Stand still,’ said M. Campione, ‘they may come by us
again’; and, turned by a hideous din, shouts, noises, and whooping,
the scattered herd reappeared, galloping wildly by us on either side.
‘_Le voilà_,’ said M. Campione, and there could be no mistake this
time; for, facing as I was, the forest was clearer, and I could see him
distinctly, a grand beast, his tail jerking up over his back in anger,
about sixty yards from me, giving me a perfect side shot, of which I
made the most, rolling him over with a bullet behind the shoulder. The
death holloa was given by M. Campione, and by-and-bye appeared quite
an army of chasseurs and beaters. I at once set to work, after all
congratulations, carefully to cut the skin low down on the shoulders so
as to get plenty of neck, the appearance of so many good heads being
entirely ruined by not having sufficient neck to set them up with. This
bull was one which had become well known, and I was told that several
applications had been made to St. Petersburg that the chasseurs might
shoot him, as he was dangerous, and had injured, if not killed, several
people. He was much larger than any American bison I have shot or seen;
his hair was finer, longer, and not so curly; his colour was a shade
lighter, and his horns do not curve at the same angle as those of _B.
americanus_. I noticed a strong aromatic smell about both bull and cow,
which they get from a peculiar grass that grows in the forest called
zubr grass. I was informed the aurochs are very fond of it. I picked
some of it and found that it resembled ribbon grass, but the blade was
all green, and had the same strange aromatic smell which I noticed
in the aurochs. The height of the bull at the shoulder was about six
feet, but he gave me the idea of being a leggier beast than the bison
of America. I saw no difference between him and _B. americanus_ which
could not be accounted for by climate and habitat. The differences
between European reindeer and American barrenland and wood caribou
are certainly greater, and the differences between European elk and
American moose are quite as great. I explained to General de Ceumern
that I had only permission to take the head and skin of the bull, and
that I did not consider myself justified in taking that of the female
as I had not received the Czar’s permission, but some little time after
my arrival at home in England the cow aurochs’ head was by order sent
to me, set up, mounted by a Warsaw taxidermist.
[Illustration: The lynx (_Felis pardina_)]