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Shooting in the Carpathian Mountains 
It was early morning and the first golden 
shafts of a September sun were beginning to 
brighten the eastern skyline as Herr von R. and 
myself climbed into the rack wagon, now wait¬ 
ing before the chateau to carry us for a few 
days' shooting among the beautiful Carpathian 
Mountains. 
With yells which would have done credit to 
a leather-lunged Kafir mule driver, the smocked 
and steeple-hatted Ruthenian peasant, who acted 
the part of Jehu, sent the team of patient horses 
on their journey. 
Clear of the oil mining town of Boryslaw, 
with its endless smokestacks, we followed a 
serpentine road which led past grazing grounds 
and well-tilled fields until the vast forest of 
Dzial was reached. At a solitary point along 
this forest track we halted for a few minutes, 
while my companion told me that during the 
severe winter of 1904, while traveling homeward 
from a visit to a friend whose house lay on the 
outskirts of the forest, he suddenly heard the 
howls of a pack of wolves, and realizing that 
the famished brutes were hunting on his scent, 
he ran for his life and succeeded in reaching the 
hut of a woodcutter just as the leading wolf 
was at his heels. Not only do wolves roam at 
large in the dark forests of Galicia, but the 
brown bear, boar, red and fallow deer and their 
smaller cousin, the roe, are also found in the 
glades and valleys of these great woodlands. 
For many hours the wagon rolled along the 
forest road, and to break the monotony of the 
way von R. and I often left our “straw nest 
on the floor of the vehicle to explore the almost 
unbeaten trails leading into the heart of the 
tangled woodland. It was during one of these 
peregrinations into the forest that I shot my 
first Austrian blackcock. We had wandered per¬ 
haps a mile along the banks of a babbling brook 
and were enjoying ourselves among a patch of 
wild raspberry canes laden with luscious scarlet 
fruit when my fellow gun exclaimed, “Gieb 
acht, Schwarzwild!’’ (i e., “Look out, black 
game!”). Scarcely were the words uttered 
when, with a great whirr a covey of eight black 
game rose within twenty yards of me. Singling 
out a fine cock flying a little apart from his fel¬ 
lows, I pulled and the bird fell crashing into a 
patch of bramble vines. I failed to score with 
my second barrel to the evident amusement of 
von R., who, by the way, had left his own gun 
in the wagon and carried a weapon less deadly 
in the shape of a snapshot camera. 
Upon reaching a large shade-affording beech, 
we called a brief halt for luncheon. While rest¬ 
ing under the giant timber tree I noticed that 
the ground around its roots had been turned up 
and on pointing this out to my companion he 
declared that a herd of wild swine had been 
“rooting” under the tree a few hours before. 
Although so late in the year the forest was 
in parts simply carpeted with beautiful flowers 
of many different kinds and the foliage was be¬ 
ginning to assume its autumnal tints of russet. 
gold and crimson. Had it not been for the sigh¬ 
ing of the westerly wind among the branches 
of the trees, the occasional crow of a black 
grouse, or the mocking, laugh-like call of a 
green woodpecker, dead silence would have 
reigned in the heart of the forest. 
Returning to the wagon we traveled on at a 
foot pace, halting here and there at some cool 
stream or natural fountain to rest and to water 
and bait the horses until the setting of the fiery 
sun beneath the treetops brought us to the door 
of a small but picturesque hostelry, standing on 
the fringe of the forest. From the windows of 
this inn we caught our first glimpse of the dis¬ 
tant Carpathian Mountains. 
Supper was served in the old-time wainscotted 
guest room of the inn, the walls of which were 
hung with trophies of the chase, for our host 
was an old forest ranger. Among other heads 
I noticed a magnificent pair of red stag antlers 
which carried no fewer than fourteen points. 
How and by whom that noble trophy was gotten 
from the neighboring forest did not transpire, 
and Boniface was equally silent regarding the 
history of a certain wild boar’s “mask” which, 
armed with formidable tusks, was given a place 
of honor over the doorway. 
We were up betimes next morning and for 
some ten miles traveled through a beautiful un¬ 
dulating country. Here and there a crystal- 
clear trout stream was crossed and I regretted 
that a fly-rod had not been included in the para¬ 
phernalia, for these brooks teemed with speckled 
trout. 
Shortly after mid-day we arrived on the banks 
of the river Stryj, above which towered the 
romantic and crumbling ruins of Urycz castle. 
Having unharnessed the horses and left them 
to graze on the sweet grass growing by the 
roadside, von R. and myself walked along a 
narrow stony pathway until we arrived at the 
drawbridge which had to be crossed ere the con¬ 
fines of the castle were entered. The way led 
up a flight of about a hundred steep steps, worn 
thin by the feet of many a gallant knight and 
fair lady in the “bad old days” of the barons. 
Up and up the giddy stairs we climbed until the 
first apartment was entered. From the case¬ 
ments of the great pillar-supported banqueting 
hall a far-reaching panorama of the surround¬ 
ing country was obtained. Past the moss and 
lichen-grown walls of the castle dungeons 
swirled and eddied the treacherous river Stryj, 
thence on and on through deep ravines, dark 
tors, silent forests and rolling plains until it 
appeared a mere streak of silver under the 
bright rays of the sun. To the south, east and 
west as far as the eye could reach stretched the 
green and luxuriantly-wooded Carpathians. That 
panorama of mountains and forest scenery will 
remain graven upon my memory forever. 
Tradition has it that the mighty Ruthenian 
chieftain Danilo and his beautiful daughter 
Paraska concealed themselves in the castle dur¬ 
ing the raid of a marauding band of Tartars 
in the early part of the sixteenth century, and 
but a few years ago a great number of ancient 
Saxon and Swedish silver coins, together witl 
a small coffer filled with Turkish stamp coins 
were unearthed from the subterranean dungeon: 
which, excavated some fifty feet below the cast! 
floor, are reached by a narrow flight of stom 
stairs roughly hewn out of the solid rock. 
Some three hours were spent in exploring th 
ancient ruin, and by the time we reached ou 
first night’s camping ground in the mountain; 
the early shades of evening were beginning t 
fall. In a charming spot on the banks of a littl 
brook the tents were pitched, and the blanket; 
cooking utensils, etc., were taken from the wago 
and placed in their several positions ready fo 
use. The horses were next hobbled and allowe 
to wander wheresoever they chose to graz> 
while my companion, the driver and mysel 
each armed with a forage sack, went out t 
gather sticks with which to build a fire. 
While we were smoking an after supper cigai 
ette before the glowing camp-fire, a youn 
Ruthenian peasant and his wife approached wit 
many bows and salutations and begged for 
little tobaki. Bidding the picturesque couple 1 
join us at the fire, we bestowed a goodly hanc 
ful of coarse-cut Austrian Reze tobacco upc 
them. We then asked the peasant whether the 
was any game to be found in the neighborhoc 
for, although we had obtained permission fro 
Count von H. to shoot over the extensive wi 
park of W., we were anxious to try our lui 
in the unpreserved portions of the mountai: 
lying between the count’s domain and our can 
—a long day’s journey toward the Hungari; 
border. 
“It was only this morning that I sighted : 
couple of roe feeding on the outskirts of a pat: 
of woodland not a mile distant from this ve- 
spot,” was the peasant’s reply as he puffed aw' 
at his highly ornate terra-cotta pipe with t: 
gusto of a man who had not enjoyed a smo; 
for many days. “And,” continued he, “yi 
should be able to shoot a few partridges al 
hares on the grassy slopes and rough cover 1 
the mountainsides.” It was arranged that t! 
worthy rustic should act the part of our gui: 
next morning, and then, just as the hands f 
our watches were pointing to the hour of t , 
my companion and I retired to our respect: 
tents to sleep that dreamless and refresh: 
sleep which comes to those fortunate beings w: 
breathe the dry and rarefied air of the moi- 
tains. 
I was awakened next morning by the me) 
laughter and cheerful voices of the Ruthenij 
his wdfe and the Jehu, who were preparing < 
coffee and pierogi (a Polish breakfast dis) 
over a glowing fire of dry twigs. I left my t 1 
in time to see the great golden sun appear ab(< 
the summits of a distant “offset” of the C 
pathians. It was a glorious morning and < 
atmosphere which was as dry and invigorate 
as a draught of dry champagne was filled vl 
the chattering of newly awakened birds and 1 
humming of insects. The rusty-hinge-like | 
of a gray partridge, intermingling with 1 
sweet but far-reaching “wet-me-lips, wet-u 
