58 STALKING ROE-BUCK IN SILESIA 



curl up towards the rough-hewn rafters, and 

 indulge your thoughts. And these thoughts 

 always return to the same point : what a joy 

 this forest solitude is compared to the restless 

 grind and nerve-racking strain of the city. 



Every year, if it is in any way possible, 

 Cecile and I come with a trusty friend to this 

 Buen Retiro; and it is always a wrench when 

 we have to leave it. 



From this hunting-box we hunt the roe-buck. 

 The grounds of the estate of Ols extend to about 

 50,000 acres. About sixty bucks a year could 

 be shot in these preserves; we reckon, as a 

 rule, a total of from twenty-five to thirty bucks. 

 I am very particular that only fine old bucks 

 or those in bad condition who would not breed 

 well are shot. 



At three o'clock in the morning there is a 

 loud rapping on my door; it is time to get up 

 but — if I did not stand so much in awe of my 

 capable little Head Forester von Stiinzner — 

 I should turn over and prefer to go to sleep 

 again. With a great heave I am out of bed 

 and in a cold bath, and then I go down to 



