Frequently, as everybody who has dipped into antler lore well knows, the largest heads, so far as length and number of tines go, are not the heaviest in weight; in fact, one might almost quote as a rule that the heaviest heads are fourteen and sixteen tined ones, when the animal has begun to set back. Thus neither No. 1, 2, nor 3 reaches, by 4 lbs. or more, the weight of a 14-pointer killed by Prince Rohan in Radauc, which, with the small fragment of skull-bone which is usually left attached to the antlers, exceeds that of many a fair wapiti head—the giant of the deer species—scaling an ounce or two over 31 lbs. avoirdupois; whilst another 14-pointer, obtained by the late Austrian Crown Prince, weighed little less. To find matches for these modern antlers among old historical heads one has to search among the pick of the old collections, and of these history does not always tell their origin. Take, for example, two famous collections embracing between seven and eight thousand heads, i.e. the historically most interesting ‘Sammlung,’ at the King of Saxony’s castle of Moritzburg, where, in one of the many halls in which are hung these highly treasured trophies of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the visitor can see 71 heads, not one of which carries less than 24 points; and, secondly, Count Arco’s numerically even finer collection at Munich. The pick of both collections is in the first named—i.e. a head of the unrivalled spread of 6 ft. 3⁶⁄₁₀ ins., and of the equally remarkable weight of 41½ lbs. avoirdupois. The history of most of the lesser heads in this collection is well known; not so unfortunately the origin of these monster antlers. In spite of many weeks’ researches in the King’s private library and in the Royal archives to which the writer obtained access, it was impossible to trace its history further back than 1586, in which year the head is enumerated in an inventory of the Elector Augustus’s heirlooms, without mentioning whence it came.
Returning to modern times, it must, of course, be remembered that in the localities producing the monster stags of to-day everything is in their favour. In the oak forests on the lower slopes of the mountains they find a mild climate and the best horn-producing food during the winter months, while during the summer they make undisturbed raids upon the rich agricultural valleys below, where they find the wherewithal for many a stone of extra weight, the feudal sway exercised by the great territorial magnates permitting the deer to trespass upon the crops with impunity, and thus grow to be the lustiest of their race. In the higher Central Alps, in Styria, Tyrol, and the Bavarian Highlands, the stags are smaller and their antlers shorter and proportionately less massive, being about the size of the best Scotch heads. In the Alps the inclemencies of severe winters, lack of food as well as lack of shelters, tell upon the growth of the whole race.
In other respects, however, the stag of the true Alps is a grander beast than his lazier and sleeker brother to be found on the slopes of the Carpathians. Scarcer, far harder to obtain, amid surroundings not unsimilar to those which make chamois shooting such keen sport, stalking the Alpine stag has for those who are fond of real mountain sport more attractions than the pursuit of the larger and less wily Hungarian stag.
STALKING THE ALPINE STAG
The home of the Hungarian and of the Alpine stag differs very materially from that of the Scotch deer. The more or less treeless ‘forest’ of Scotland is replaced in the first named locality by superb woods of deciduous as well as of coniferous trees; in the latter by dense pine, fir, and larch woods. These are forests which do not belie their name, and their owners are never forced to kill off stags in order to save a few precious trees, an unpleasant alternative by no means unknown to Scotch lairds.
To the presence of these forests must be ascribed the entirely different mode of stalking pursued in Austria from that known to the Scotch deerstalker. The view over great expanses of open hill land, which is the most typical incident of Scotch sport, is practically unknown on the Continent. In consequence of this, stalking can only take place at a season of the year when the stag betrays his whereabouts by the call or roar he emits at rutting time.
The rutting season of the Alpine stag varies triflingly, but as a rule it may be said to begin about September 25, and to end on or about October 10 or 15. Prior to that time, from the moment when the stag’s antlers are clear of velvet, he is literally unapproachable in the dense thickets he loves to frequent at this period. Though necessarily a high feeder at this season, during which he has to lay up a goodly stock of fat for the exciting and exhausting times of the rut, he nevertheless comes out to feed only at night-time, and he hears as well as scents danger afar. So suspicious is he that, as an old proverb says, ‘he flies from his own shadow.’ To stalk him under such conditions in a densely timbered country is, of course, hopeless; so that his chase during August and the first half of September can only be successfully achieved by driving the forest with beaters (dogs, except for tracking wounded game, being of course very much out of place), and this driving is considered but poor sport by those who have an opportunity of killing the same animal by stalking a few weeks later.
In this stalking, the call of the stag plays a principal part. Unmelodious as is this hoarse challenge for the virile championship of the herd, it is a glorious sound to the ear of the sportsman. Whether heard in timber-line regions of the Alps, or in the tangled depth of German or Hungarian forests, or in the elevated uplands of the Rocky Mountains, it has about it as true a ring of sport as the first music from the pack in covert.
In stalking the Alpine stag during the ‘Brunft,’ as the Austrians call the rutting time, in forests that are strictly preserved, the assistance of keepers saves much time which otherwise would have to be expended by the sportsman in discovering the favourite locality frequented by the stags. Stags when the instincts of the season are full upon them are ‘up and doing’ all night, and the concert made by four or five (and often many more) brave warriors within earshot lasts all night, only to die away as darkness is replaced by daylight.
On clear nights, favoured by a bright full moon (other conditions being equally propitious), it is possible for a skilful stalker to get up to within a score of yards of a calling stag, close enough to fire with a good chance of hitting the beast. A smooth-bore, to which one is well accustomed, firing a spherical 13-bore ball, is for such occasions preferable to a rifle with its fine sights, and as a rule less perfect ‘fit’ for such hazarding. To a novice unaccustomed to this kind of midnight sport a few practice shots at a dummy should precede actual trial, for distances on such occasions are sadly deceptive, and it is remarkable how much of beautiful Nature there is to be hit in the immediate vicinity of one’s would-be prey.