The next morning we were up with the first streak of dawn. It was with some curiosity that I looked round at our impromptu dwelling and its surroundings, upon which we had descended in total obscurity the night before. The position of our camping-place was not badly chosen; we were just within the girdle of forest above which rises the grassy Alpen. About forty yards to the left or north-east of us was a small stream, the boundary, it seems, between the Banat and Transylvania. We were provided with two necessaries of life, wood and water, close at hand.
The hut, however, was more picturesque than practical, as subsequent events proved. The Wallacks had constructed it by driving two strong posts into the ground about ten yards apart. A tree was placed across, with a couple of smaller supports, and on this was made on a rough framework a sloping roof to the windward side. The roofing consisted entirely of leaves: it is called in German laubhütte, but is in fact more of a parasol than an umbrella. I should have preferred a hut made of bark, such as I have seen used by shepherds and sportsmen in Styria.
The interior of the hut had a droll appearance. Bacon, sausages, meal-bags, and various other things were hanging from pegs fastened into the supports of the roof; and the gear belonging to ten sportsmen were stowed away somehow. The place might have passed for the head-centre of a band of brigands.
The mountain on which we were encamped forms part of the western side of a long valley, at the bottom of which, quite 2000 feet below us, is a magnificent trout-stream. The sides of this valley are clothed with dense forests, with broken cliffs obtruding in places. The height of the Carpathians in this part of the range must not be taken as a gauge of the scenery, which quite equals in grandeur the higher Alps in many parts of Switzerland and the Tyrol. Comparisons are dangerous, for the lovers of Switzerland will silence me with glaciers and eternal snow; these advantages I must concede, still contending, however, for the extreme beauty and wildness of the Southern Carpathians. The characteristics of the scenery are due to the broken forms of the crystalline rocks, the singular occurrence of sharp limestone ridges, and the deep forest-clad valleys, traversed by mountain torrents, which everywhere diversify the scene.
CHAPTER XI.
Chamois and bear hunting—First battue—Luxurious dinner 5000 feet above the sea-level—Storm in the night—Discomforts—The bear's supper—The eagle's breakfast—Second and third day's shooting—Baking a friend as a cure for fever—Striking camp—View into Roumania.
We started for our first battue in capital time, taking with us a crowd of Wallack beaters. Our places were appointed to us by the director of the hunt, and some of us had a stiffish climb before reaching the spot indicated. At a right angle to this valley there protrudes one of those characteristic limestone ridges; it terminates in an abrupt precipice or declivity above the stream. My place was some half-way up, a good position; for while I could see the course of the stream, I could command a fair range of ground above me.
It was impossible not to take note of the exquisite beauty of the whole scene, particularly as it then appeared. The sun breaking through the clouds, threw his sharply-defined rays of light into the depths of the misty defile, playing upon the foam of the water, and giving life and colour to the hanging woods. I hardly took it in at the time, but rather remembered the details afterwards; for my thoughts were occupied in trying to judge the distance up to which I might fire with any chance of success—distances are always very deceptive on the mountains.