AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE. 541 



" Would you like," asked my gracious patron, the Crown Prince 

 Rudolph, "to accompany me to South Hungary for some eagle- 

 shooting? I have definite reports of perhaps twenty eyries, and I 

 think that we should all be able to learn much, if we visited them 

 and observed diligently." 



Twenty eyries! One must have been banished for long years on 

 the dreary flats of North Germany, one must have gloated over the 

 bright pictures raised in one's mind by the glowing reports of some 

 roaming ornithologist, to appreciate the joy with which I agreed to go. 

 Twenty eyries, at no very great distance from Vienna and not far 

 from Pesth: I should not have been my father's son had I remained 

 indifferent. The days seemed hours when we were busy with all 

 sorts of preparations, and again they seemed to lengthen out into 

 weeks, such was my impatient desire to be off. 



It was but a small travelling party that started from Vienna on 

 the second day of the Easter holidays (1878), but we were merry 

 and hopeful, eager for sport and energetic. Besides the august 

 lord of the chase and his illustrious brother-in-law, there were but 

 three Obersthofmeister Count Bombelles, Eugen von Homeyer, 

 and myself. A day later, at Pesth, we got aboard the swift and 

 comfortable vessel which carried us towards the mouth of the 

 " blonde " Danube. In Lenten mist suffused with morning sunlight, 

 the proud Kaiserburg stood out before us, and the gardens of the 

 Bloxberg were bright with the first green of the young year, as 

 we took leave of the capital of Hungary. 



With the scenery of the Rhine, of the Upper, or even, it is said, 

 of the Lower Danube, the stretch of country through which we 

 were now rapidly borne cannot be compared. A few kilometres 

 below the sister towns the banks become flat, the hills on the right 

 side of the stream sink into featureless heights, and only in the dim 

 blue distance does the eye catch the gently curved lines of moder- 

 ately high ranges. From the left bank extends the broad plain. 

 Without end, without change, it stretches in uniform monotony; 

 hardly one of the large, rich villages is conspicuous enough to catch 

 the eye. Here and there a herdsman in shepherd's dress leans 

 on his strong staff", but his charge is not a flock of simple sheep; 



