AN ORNITHOLOGIST ON THE DANUBE. 543 



land through which we catch a glimpse of the landscape in the 

 background, — of the broad plain on the right bank of the stream, and 

 the fringe of hills in the distance, of an apparently endless succession 

 of fields, from which at distant intervals rise the church spires 

 which mark the scattered villages or, it may be, townships. In 

 summer, when all is of one predominantly green hue, in late 

 autumn, winter, and early spring, when the trees are leafless, this 

 shore landscape may seem almost dull; now it is monotonous, but yet 

 not unattractive, for all the willows and poplars have young leaves, 

 or in many cases catkins, and, here and there at least, they make 

 the woods gay and gladsome. 



Only at a few places is such a wood as this accessible; for the 

 most part it is a huge morass. If one attempts, either on land or 

 by waterways, to penetrate into the interior, one, sooner or later, 

 reaches a jungle which has no parallel in Germany. Only on those 

 spots which are raised above the level of the river, and which have 

 a rich, in part muddy soil, is one reminded of German vegetation. 

 Here lilies of the valley, with their soft, green leaves and fragrant, 

 white bells, form a most decorative carpeting, covering the ground 

 for wide stretches; but even here the nettles and bramble-bushes 

 gi'ow in wanton luxuriance, and various climbing plants spread 

 their tangled net over wide areas of the forest, so that almost 

 insuperable obstacles and barriers prevent further progress. In 

 other places the wood is literally a bog out of which the giant trees 

 rear their stems. Mighty stems indeed, but many — victims of old 

 age, tempest, thunderbolt, and the careless herdsman's fire — lie 

 rotting in the water, already forming, in many cases, the soil from 

 which rises a younger and vigorous growth of underwood. Other 

 trees, which have not yet succumbed to decay, lie prostrate and 

 bar the way. The wind has swept the fallen wood, both thick 

 branches and delicate twigs, into floating islands and obtrusive 

 snags, which present to the small boat obstacles not less difficult 

 than those which obstruct the explorer on foot. Similar floating 

 islands, composed of reeds and sedges, form a deceptive covering 

 over wide stretches of water. Raised mud-banks, on which willows 

 and poplars have found a suitable soil for their seeds, have become 



