But the game in Rudolstadt had become a veritable torment, which
destroyed the husbandmen's hopes of harvests. The peasant, to save his
fields from the stags and does which broke into them in herds at sunset,
tried to keep them out by means of clappers and bad odours. I have seen
and smelled the so-called "Frenchman's oil" with which the posts were
smeared, that its really diabolical odour--I don't know from what horrors
it was compounded--might preserve the crops. The ornament of the forests
had become the object of the keenest hate, and as soon as--shortly before
we entered Keilhau--hunting was freely permitted, the peasants gave full
vent to their rage, set off for the woods with the old muskets they had
kept hidden in the garrets, or other still more primitive weapons, and
shot or struck down all the game they encountered. Roast venison was
cheap for weeks on Rudolstadt tables, and the pupils had many an
unexpected pleasure.

The hunting exploits of the older scholars were only learned by us
younger ones as secrets, and did not reach the teachers' ears until long
after.

But the woods furnished other pleasures besides those enjoyed by the
sportsman. Every ramble through the forest enriched our knowledge of
plants and animals, and I soon knew the different varieties of stones
also; yet we did not suspect that this knowledge was imparted according
to a certain system. We were taught as it were by stealth, and how many
pleasant, delicious things attracted us to the class-rooms on the wooded
heights!

Vegetation was very abundant in the richly watered mountain valley. Our
favourite spring was the Schaalbach at the foot of the Steiger,--[We
pupils bought it of the peasant who owned it and gave it to Barop.]--