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Updated: May 14, 2025
Speaking of game, the partridges are not preserved, and they are scarce; of course I was too early, but in autumn the woodcock-shooting, I understand, is first-rate. Quails and snipes are also common in the Hatszeg Valley. He has a fine collection of stuffed birds at his residence at Rea, near Hatszeg. These are birds which he has himself shot, and he is quite the local authority upon the subject.
But, shades of Buffon and Linnæus! we must not thus rattle on, but proceed to describe the nuptial couch of the delicious bird under our consideration. The woodcock, like all those of the feathered tribe that do not perch, makes its nest on the ground, which is composed of leaves, fern, and dry grass, intermixed with little bits of stick, and strengthened by larger pieces placed across it. This nest, made without much art or care, in form like a large brown ball, is generally placed under, and sheltered by the root of some old tree. Four or five eggs, a little larger than those of the common pigeon, of a dirty gray and yellow colour, and marked with little black spots, are the proofs of its maternity. The woodcock, as I have before remarked, has only the gift of talking in the spring season, when soft breezes fan the air, and they educate their young. Nevertheless, it is in this season that woodcock-shooting is the most amusing. Then is the time for gentlemen to shoot; the braconnier despises it. From the middle of April to that of May is the important epoch at which the generality of animals marry, and the woodcocks are not behindhand in this respect; they leave their well-concealed retreats, become humanized, solicit the attentions of their feathered ladies, and fly with gay inspirations amongst the neighbouring bushes. But though as much in love as a widow, the woodcock does not on that account forget its habitual prudence; like the usurer who lends his money, and takes every precaution, the woodcock is equally careful, and does not leave its nest till twilight has draped the earth in the gray mantle of evening. When the humid atmosphere descends slowly on the trees, when the cool breezes of night ascend the valleys, when distant objects begin to assume a fantastic shape, when the branches of the oak near you, like the arms of a giant, wave to and fro, and seem to ask you to approach; when the withered tree, devoid of leaves, looks like a brigand on the watch, or your comrade, ensconced against it, seems to form a portion of it at a hundred yards off; when, in short, the sportsman can see only a few yards before him, then is the moment that the circumspect and wily woodcock leaves its abode, and pays a nocturnal visit to his friends; and man, his enemy, and still more cunning, is on the alert. The sport which we are about to describe, and which does not last longer than from thirty to forty minutes, has something particularly taking in it. At the close of day a universal silence reigns in the forest, and every sportsman is at his post with bated breath, and eyes dilated as wide as a woman's listening to a neighbouring gossip's tale, when, all at once pray note this well, reader a little fly, which plays a prominent part in all sport
I trust, however, that I may be able to soften his indignation, and by the following sketches gratify the expectations naturally raised in his mind by the first words of the title-page. Of boar and wolf-hunting we shall speak further on: my present object will be to give a description, not only of the woodcock-shooting in Burgundy and Le Morvan, but also of the habits, etc., of that bird.
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