The country round Fruskagora yields a good deal more to the vultures than an occasional feast of carrion, for in the stomachs of those which we shot and dissected we found remains of souslik and large lizards, which are scarcely likely to have been found dead, but were more probably seized and killed.
On account of the northerly situation of Fruskagora, and the well-ordered state of the surrounding country, which is not very favourable to vultures, the black vultures were still brooding during our visit, though others of the same species, whose haunts were farther south, must undoubtedly have had young birds by that time. The eyries were placed in the tallest trees, and most of them on the uppermost third of the mountain side. Many were quite well known to Count Chotek and his game-keepers, for they had been occupied as a brooding-place by a pair of vultures, possibly the same pair, for at least twenty years, and as they had been added to each year they had assumed very considerable proportions. Others seemed of more recent origin, but all were apparently the work of the vultures themselves. In the oldest and largest of them, a full-grown man could have reclined without his head or feet being seen projecting over the edge.
Under these eyries we sat watching, listening to the life and bustle of the woods, and waiting in the hope of getting a shot at the vultures which our approach had scared away. For four days we went to the splendid woods every morning, and never did we return to our vessel empty-handed. No fewer than eight large vultures, several eagles, and numerous smaller birds fell to our guns, while valuable observations, which fascinated us all, added zest and interest to our sport. But when the last rays of the sun had disappeared, the younger portion of the population assembled about our ship. Violin and bagpipes joined in a wonderful but simple melody, and youths and maidens danced the rhythmically undulating national round dances in honour of their august guest.
After we had hunted successfully on both sides of the Danube, we took leave, on the fifth day after our arrival in Čerewič, of our most devoted host, the lord of the estates, and continued our journey down the river. In three-quarters of an hour we passed Peterwardein, a small, antiquated, but picturesquely situated stronghold, and an hour and a half later, we reached Carlowitz, near which we spent the night. The next morning we reached Kovil, the goal of our journey.
In the neighbourhood of this large village, and girdled by cultivated fields, there are woods in which the oak predominates, but which have such a dense undergrowth, that notwithstanding the many villages about, the wolves and wild-cats lead a threatening but scarcely threatened existence in them. It is not to be wondered at, therefore, that birds of prey of all kinds, especially sea-eagles, imperial eagles, spotted eagles, and booted eagles, “short-toed eagles”, kites, hawks, horned and other owls should have chosen them as a nesting-place, and that they should also harbour all kinds of small birds. Sure of rich booty the Crown Prince and his brother-in-law directed their steps to these woods, while Eugen von Homeyer and I tried our luck up-stream beyond the village, in a marsh which the flood, then at its height, had transformed into a great lake.
Fig. 82.—Nest of the Penduline Titmouse (Parus pendulinus).
A surprisingly rich and varied life reigned in this marsh, though only a very small fraction of the feathered population could be seen, and indeed the tide of migration was still in full flood. Great flocks of black terns flew in almost unbroken succession up the river, sometimes assembling in compact swarms, sometimes distributing themselves over the whole breadth of the flooded Danube; hundreds of glossy or dark ibises wandered up and down the stream, flying in the usual wedge-shaped order towards or away from the neighbouring river Theiss, apparently still in search of suitable nesting-places; purple herons, common herons, and squacco herons strode about fishing in all accessible parts of the great expanse of water; marsh-barriers flew along their accustomed routes carrying long reed-stalks to their nests; ducks, mating a second time because the flood had robbed them of their eggs, rose noisily from the water on the approach of our small flat boat, while grebes and dabchicks dived for safety—in short, every part of the vast expanse was peopled. A forester well acquainted with all the paths through the submerged wood, awaited us in a house which rose above the flood like an island, and acted as our guide through a forest-wilderness which far surpassed all that we had hitherto seen, for the water had added new obstacles to those always present. Brushing past many branches which must usually be high above the ground, often stooping beneath boughs which blocked our way, we attempted to find a route between half or wholly fallen trees, logs, and drift-wood, and to penetrate to the heart of the forest. Brooding mallards, whose nests in the tops of the willows had been spared by the flood, did not rise on our approach, even though we glided by within a yard of them. Eared grebes, which were out on the open water, when they saw us, swam sideways into the green thicket of tree-crowns, chiefly willows, which rose just above the surface; water-wagtails ran from one piece of drift-wood to another; spotted woodpeckers and nut-hatches clung to the tree-trunks close to the water, and searched for food as usual. One picture of bird-life crowded upon another; but all seemed unfamiliar, because altered by the prevailing conditions. To reach a sea-eagle’s eyrie we were obliged to wade a long distance; to visit a raven’s nest we had to make a wide détour. Hunting in the approved fashion was impossible under such circumstances, but our expedition rewarded us richly. To me personally it afforded the pleasure of seeing one of the best of the feathered architects of Europe, the penduline titmouse, at work on its nest, and of observing for the first time its life and habits.[88]
The following day our whole company assembled in one of the woods already mentioned. A Hungarian forester had made preparations for a wolf-drive on a grand scale, but had arranged it so unskilfully that Friend Isegrim succeeded in slipping away unperceived. The unpromising chase was therefore soon abandoned, and the short time which remained to us was devoted to more profitable observation of the bird-life in the forest.
In the course of the same afternoon we left Kovil, reached Peterwardein the same evening, steamed past Fruskagora early in the night, left the vessel once more the following day to hunt in the marsh of Hullo, saw there the noble heron which we had until then sought for in vain, but were obliged to hurry onwards so as not to miss the fast train for Vienna. Gratefully looking back on the days we had spent, and lamenting the swiftness with which they had sped, we steamed rapidly past all the river forests, which had afforded us so much enjoyment, and, with the ardent wish that we might some day return to spend a longer time in it, we took leave of this rich and unique country.