88 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



more silent now ; only the curious cry of the great 

 black woodpecker breaks the stillness. These ne- 

 glected woods are a very paradise for all the varieties 

 of this bird. See, there is a lesser spotted one at 

 work. His red head hammers away, and as he turns 

 the branch he shows the same brilliant scarlet under- 

 neath. He has not noticed me yet, but as I step 

 forward he does so, looks down, and calmly continues 

 his work. His bigger brother would have alarmed 

 the whole parish. As I pass a fir-tree I stop to pick 

 a green tuft for my cap, following the quaint Austrian 

 fashion of successful sportsmen. Half an hour later I 

 am at home. 



To my mind no sport can be more delightful than 

 this combination of shooting and hunting. Two things 

 only are necessary. Firstly, the knowledge where to 

 stand. This the natives of every. country can tell one, 

 for there is no village in the world but can produce 

 some fellow with that instinct that makes the poacher 

 (I mean the rustic, not the professional variety) in 

 England. The second desideratum is the hound, which 

 must draw well and wide, but perseveringly and 

 musically, and lastly return to his master after a 

 blank draw or an unsuccessful chase. This last is 

 easily taught, but involves the wearisome job of wait- 

 ing (hours sometimes) for the youngster you are 

 entering. Go home without him, and sooner or later 

 he will return the compliment. As to the breed of 

 hound, the nature of the country in which you hunt 

 must govern the selection. Small woodland and easy 

 ground involves small hounds, dachshunds for choice, 

 but it is so rare that they will draw wide enough, and 

 many are not musical. Here they would never do, 

 for, apart from the difficulties of the ground, the w^olf 



