Miscellany [pp. 820-824]

820 ECEMBER,ei
like a row-boat. They make the same puffing
noise as the New-York tugs, and dart about
in various directions with a rapidity truly astonishing. They are aptly called water-locomotives. The fare to the Haselbacken is a
penny or a halfpenny, I forget which; some
insignificant trifle, however, and the ride most
charming.
The attractions at this famous place of
resort, aside from those of a prandial character, were the gardens, pavilions, and two
musical orchestras, one of them the famous
Hungarian band, composed of some twentyodd performers, dressed in Magyar costume,
and playing mainly on stringed instruments.
There is no drum, and no leader to mark
time, this being done by the manipulations
of the zither-player, who sits in front, and
consequently in view of the others, who all
play standing. The time kept is remarkably
exact, and the general effect of the music
charming.
After listening to this orchestra, it was
difficult to resist the conviction that orchestras, as generally made up, contain too great
a proportion of wind-instruments. At all
events, the effects produced by the Hungarian band, although they have no brass windinstruments at all, and but few reeds, seemed
quite varied enough for all the requirements
of the popular operas-those of the romantic,
comic, and burlesque schools: "La Traviata,"
"I Barbiere," and "La Grande Duchesse," affording an example of each.
During my stay in Stockholm I partook
of several banquets at the Haselbacken, one
of the consequences of which was, and I regret to say it, much loss of previous appreciation for our own admirable Delmonico.
As a cook, Delmonico is simply unsurpassed
anywhere in Europe, or probably elsewhere;
but, until he can surround his guests with
the charms of such a delightful summer-garden as the Haselbacken, he must be content
to rank as number two, at least, with all
Americans who have visited the Swedish
capital.
At Stockholm I parted, and for the last
time, with my excellent friend Jenssen. The
many delightful days spent in his society
will long remain green spots in the memory.
The Danish steamer Dagmar, bound for
St. Petersburg, via Abo and Helsingfors,
was crowded with passengers; and yet it
was necessary, if I would arrive in time for
the Congress, to take passage in her. This I
managed by buying the mate's berth from
him, a feat which would not have been easy
to accomplish with respect to an American
vessel. The captain's berth had already been
sold to a passenger in the same way. I met
many friends, among them M. Jean de Pomp6ry, of Hungary, and Mr. Brandt, the artist,
of both of whom the reader has alreadly heard
mention. Dr. Berg, M. Printzkiald, Mr. and
Mrs. Kiir, and a number of English delegates,
were also among those with whom I was acquainted.
We left Stockholm at night. After crushing an empty barge that lay between her and
the stone quay, the Dagmar steamed down
the bay, past the numerous islands, and afforded that best of all views of Stockholm,
its appearance from the Baltic. The Dagmax
was an excellent sea-boat, but, like all European steamers, entirely lacking in those
essentials to the comfort of travelers with
which American steamers are so abundantly
provided. The cabin was small and closesmelling, the dining-saloon, as in sailing vessels, being amidships, and within arm's-length
of the beds. Except on the quarter-deck, it
was impossible to keep out of the way of
greasy attendants and tar- covered sailors.
The luggage, all unchecked, was piled in a
vast heap on deck, exposed to the sea or the
rain, should the weather prove bad. The
bright side of the case was, that the passengers
were more or less acquainted with one another, the captain of the ship was a gentleman,
and the weather promised fair throughout.
Leaving Stockholm behind us, we steered
into the gulf of Bothnia, among the thousand
Aland islands, and bent our course for Finland.
MARTE LI A.
SUMMER-ROSE at flush of bloom,
In all its beauty dies,
And o'er the garden sudden gloom
Like a brief shadow flies.
But more than summer-rose was she
Upon whose grave we weep,
And in our garden, slow to flee,
The heavy grief-glooms sleep.
Fairer than any flower of earth
The beauty of her face;
And all too brief, from her glad birth,
Our lease of her sweet grace.
Husband and home, bereft and lone,
Her life's eclipse bewail:
She walks with joy to them unknown In light beyond the veil!
W. C. RICHARDS.
MISCELLANY.
A HUNTER OF CEXTRAL AMERICA.
HE deer, I noted, were all upon their
feet, as if alarmed by the smell of my
tobacco, or else by the passage of the giant
bird. A new animal also had made his appearance on the savanna since my last observation; a fine gray ox, which was grazing
on the farther side. With that unreasoning
instinct which one soon learns in the forest,
my eyes fixed themselves upon this animal,
although no sign appeared to excite rational
suspicion. Oxen are common enough in
Chontales, where they are bred for the San
Salvador market, and of course many of them
stray from the herd and run wild; all through
the forests of Mosquito such "cimaron" cattle are found. And yet my eyes fixed themselves obstinately upon this stray animal.
Surely, I thought, after some minutes' watch,
there is something odd about this business;
those fore-legs seem strangely shaped, and
his movements-!
The ox appeared to be walking, or lounging, if the expression be admissible, in a circle; breathlessly I waited till the off-side
came under my sight. Slowly and carelessly
he moved on, grazing here, and dozing there,
but always circling round. Ha! well might
thev seem odd, those fore-legs! A man was
walking beside;the off- shoulder, with one
hand on the near horn, and a gun in the
other. The docile animal circled nearer and
nearer to the herd, which regarded him suspiciously, but made no movement. I felt
sure that he was as much interested in the
event as the best-bred retriever in English
turnip-fields.
A long half-hour I waited. The bucks
tossed their heads impatiently, and stamped
their little hoofs, but the does had apparently no suspicions, and mostly lay down again.
By an accident, which I blessed fervently,
the hunter chose his range at a point just
opposite to me. I could have shouted with
delight when I saw the long barrel-painted
with black gum, that it might not sparklepushed over the ox's back. A jet of fire,
pale in the brilliant sunshine, shot forth, and
the noblest deer of the herd leaped high
into the air. Down the savanna they came
headlong, rolling one another over in the
panic. With head thrown back, and forelegs gathered beneath him, a fine buck led
the way; at fifty yards from me they had
disappeared under the trees-but led by another monarch. The bravest of their bucks
lay prone upon the grass!
I turned, while reloading, to look for my
brother sportsman. Behold! his wondrous
ox had developed a new accomplishment!
See it now careering over the savanna like
a Derby crack, bearing its master in safety
to the hills! Loud and long I whooped in
my finest jungle falsetto, before the hero
would heed, but at half a mile's distance he
pulled up and turned to look at me. I made
the most impressive signals fancy could suggest, or memory recall fromn long-forgotten
ballets. I advanced with arms delicately
outspread, patted my chest, and pointed to
heaven-upon my honor I had great thoughts
of pirouetting on one leg, and kissing each
hand alternately to him. These exertions
were rewarded at last, as well they deserved
to be. After loading his long "gas-pipee"
with most significant care, the hunter trotted
toward me; I laid down my rifle, unbuttoning, however, the pistol-holster on my hip,
and advanced. Wary, indeed, are the greetings upon those burnt hills by the Mico.
"Buenos dias, caballero," drawled the
hunter, with his thumb on the hammer of his
piece, and his finger on the trigger.
"Buenos dias," I replied, leaning, but
without affectation, on the butt of my revolver. Then we glanced over each other.
My new acquaintance had a slender frame
covered with yellowish-brown skin, dull as
parchment. His long, straight hair, glittering eyes d fleur de tate, ill-formed nose, and
wrinkled mouth, revealed the pure Indian
blood at a glance; while, on his part, he recognized me, I trust, as a "macho," from
whom no wanton injury could be apprehend.
ed. Simultaneously we dropped our weapons, and shook hands; then we drank a long
"cocktail" each from the flask in which I
carried that mixture, and thus became friends
— regular "compadres." The deer were
packed on the ox's back, and we returned
toward my camp. In walking triumphantly
through the forest, I observed:
"That is a wonderful ox of yours. Is
this strange mode of hunting common here?"
"No," replied he. "It takes too much
trouble to train the animals, and very many
turn out ill after months of education. Chiquito is a beauty, isn't he? Wind and sun
and season are nothing; show him the herd,
and he will put you within range. He never
failed me yet."
"Oxen do not look very likely creatures
for such work," I said. "How do you train
them?"
"Ah, sefior! If folks would but give
820
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