1936 On the Continent

descriptions.
    Pig trailing is different from all the other methods of wolf hunting. A freshly slaughtered pig is tied by its hind legs to a strong rope and trailed some thirty yards behind the sleigh, which must be drawn by at least three or four good horses. The smell of the blood attracts the wolves, which begin to follow its trail and eventually try to have a bite at the pig, thus giving the sportsmen a chance of taking aim—not an easy matter in a fast-going sleigh. It is advisable to drive at a good rate, in view of the fact that the hungry wolves, having once tasted fresh blood, may become dangerous and kill the horses, which wouldleave the shooting party in a slightly awkward, if interesting, situation.
    Indeed, the sight of some twenty wolves following in his wake is likely to induce both the driver and the horses to a fine turn of speed.
    Although the shooting of feathered game is far less exciting than that of big game, there is certainly much good sport to be had in the marshes of Polesie and of the neighbouring counties. Eastern Poland is the home of large numbers of waterfowl, which breed in the marshes of Pripet and in the vast reed-grown backwaters of the many rivers crossing that country. In these parts wild geese and cranes find a permanent refuge. Another reason which contributes to this wealth of game is the disposition of rivers and lakes, which makes this province the natural path followed by the migratory birds flying from the Black and Mediterranean Seas to the North.
Interesting Birds
    Spring and autumn, when myriads of wild duck, geese, storks and other waders and divers, and exotic visitors from the banks of the Nile swarm the lakes, provide the best time for shooting from a boat, accompanied by a dog.
    There is a vast difference between these marshland shoots and those in the great forests of Eastern Poland.
    Shooting capercailzie and wood grouse in their mating season is a most enjoyable sport, especially in Polesie, where the wilderness of the forest in springtime is a wonderful setting for the love-song of the birds.
    The bird emits a gurgling sound and, while it is extremely cautious during the intervals, it pays no attention to any noises that may be made during the actual song. The spots where the bird is likely to sing are difficult to find, as they are usually distant from all human habitations, so that it is necessary to start the journey by night in order to be there at dawn to wait for the supreme moment of the love-song.
    Stalking is difficult and shooting far from easy, for the bird, perched high on a thick branch, is often hardly discernible in the dusk. There is a tense moment when one comes near the big bird, which has its neck craning forward and its wings hanging down. Even the veryslightest rustle of a leaf or branch will then frighten the grouse away. A small-bore rifle should be used, for these are far too noble creatures to be dishonoured with ordinary shot. Such a duel, in the freshness of a spring morning, is often an unforgettable occasion.
    Bialowiea is the name of the biggest forest in Europe, which is situated in Eastern Poland, between Warsaw and the Russian frontier. It covers many thousands of acres and is the home of the last remaining specimens of the European bison—a splendid animal resembling closely the American bison, but of much older parentage, of course. They are carefully protected nowadays and have a big area of forest to themselves—so that the breed may not become extinct.
Bison
    Bialowiea should be seen, quite apart from the interest attached to the bisons and the other game which it contains. Many Europeans have forgotten by now what a forest looks like, not a thicket or an impassable jungle, but an honest to goodness forest of pine and oak and ash, such as were the woods of England before the nineteenth century.
    It looks big and awesome, dark and mysterious. There is a strange feeling of some powerful presence when one looks round from the crown of a hill to see trees, big old trees, for as many miles as the eye can reach. And there are more trees beyond the horizon. Part of the forest is kept as a national reservation, and it looks very wild and primitive, for no trees have been cut down there from time immemorial—perhaps never at all—and as they reach the limit of their age they fall, perhaps pulled down by a gale, and lie rotting untouched by human hand.
    Trees many centuries old, of tremendous size, a rich undergrowth of bushes