While smoking our peace-pipes after supper, one of the
keepers came in to announce the welcome fact that it was snowing hard;
fresh-lain snow would materially increase our chances of tracking the
wild-boar.
Next morning when we started the weather had somewhat cleared, which was
just as well, seeing we had to walk two or three miles to our first
battue. Arrived at the rendezvous, we found the "beaters" waiting for
us. They were a wild-looking crew were those Slovacks, with shaggy coats
of black sheepskin, and in their hands the usual long staff with the axe
at one end. Notwithstanding their uncouth appearance, later experience
has shown me that the Slovacks, as a rule, are patient, hard-working
people.
The forest where we were consisted entirely of beech and oak. The acorns
attract the wild-boar, which have increased in a very remarkable manner
in this locality. I was told that twenty years ago there were no
wild-boar in these forests, while now there are hundreds. This seems
odd, for the oak-trees are pretty well as old as the hills, and offered
the same temptation in the way of food formerly as now. In fact the
increase of the wild-boar is a serious nuisance to the vine-grower, for
they tramp across to the southern hill-slopes, and occasionally make
raids on the vineyards, devouring the grapes with unparalleled
greediness, and what is still worse, they will sometimes plough up and
destroy a whole plot of carefully-tended vineyard.
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