All day long the two old sovereigns, Alpenstock in hand, and short, stocky rifles slung over the shoulder, go toiling up and down the mountains, along the edges of great precipices, tracing their steps along paths that to the uninitiated would seem to afford no foothold to any living thing, save a goat or a chamois.  Sometimes they are overtaken by snowstorms while up in the mountains, and are unable to see their way, or to move either backwards or forwards, for whole hours together, while at other times they are forced to lie down flat on their stomachs and to cling with hand and foot to any friendly piece of projecting rock in order to avoid being blown down the precipices, or into the deep crevasses, by the terrible winds which without warning suddenly sweep through the Alpine gorges and valleys, with a force that can only be described as cyclonic.

All the party, emperor, king, princes, and attendants, down to the humblest jaeger, wear the same kind of Styrian dress, consisting of a sort of Yoppe, or Austrian jacket of grey homespun, with green collar and facings, and buttons of rough stag-horn, homespun breeches, cut off above the knees, which are left entirely uncovered, thick woollen stockings rolled below the knee, and heavy, hob-nailed, laced boots.  The head gear is that known in this country as the Tyrolese hat, adorned by a chamois beard, which is inserted between the ribbon and the felt.

By nightfall, which comes early in the mountains, everybody is back at the “jagdschloss,” and dinner is served at five, in a room panelled with wood and decorated with trophies.  The emperor and the king sit next to each other, while Baron Gudemus, as grand huntsman, faces them on the opposite table.  The attendants are not liveried footmen, but jaegers and game-keepers.  On arising from the table the party as a rule descends into the courtyard, where all the game killed during the day is laid out on a layer of pine branches, the jaegers forming three sides of a square, lighting up the scene with great pine torches, while the huntsmen sound the curee-chaude on their hunting horns.  By eight or nine o’clock, everybody is in bed, and the whole chateau is wrapped in slumber.

During the last three or four days of the stay, the so-called “Treibjagds,” or “Battues” take the place of stalking.  They are far more ceremonious, but infinitely less fatiguing and interesting affairs, and as they begin between eight and nine, and last till four, they do not involve getting out of bed at the unearthly hour of three or four in the morning.  They necessitate, however, an enormous amount of preparation and organization on the part of the grand huntsman.  For at least forty-eight hours previously, a vast corps of “treibers,” or Styrian mountaineers engaged for the purpose have been employed in surrounding a district of mountain and valley many miles in area.  The circle is gradually narrowed down until the whole of the game is driven from the heights into the valley, where the emperor and his guests have taken up their positions.