Rensselaer Union, Volume 8, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 October 1875 — Victor Emmanuel as a Hunter. [ARTICLE]

Victor Emmanuel as a Hunter.

J. Adolphus Trollope writes from Rome to the New York Tribune: Victor Emmanuel, none the worse for the worries of a very worrying season, is enjoying his best loved sport _in high feather among the higher mountains of the Piedmontese Alps. At the last accounts His Majesty, who seems every whit as ardent and enterprising a sportsman as he was twenty years ago, was on the point of starting on an expedition among the higher summits qf the vale of Aosta in search of the “ steihbok.” This large and mag-nificently-horned variety of the chamois, or wild mountain goat, is, as is well known, very nearly extinct, and is only to be found, if found at all, in its remotest and most inaccessible fastnesses. To bring home a “ steinbok” confers the blue ribbon of Alpine sportsmanship! Victor Emmanuel had already had good sport, having sent his second son, Prince Amadeo, who was assisting at a review of troops on a large scale in the lowlands, many a thousand feet below his happier sire, two magnificent chamois which had fallen to his own gun the day before. Those who know anything of the conditions of Alpine sportsmanship will be aware that this is a measure of success of which any hunter in Tyrol or Switzerland might well be proud. 1116 chamois is in fact an exceedingly difficult quarry under the most favorable circumstances. But the fact is that the King is really a first-class shot. It is not so many years ago that, having in a mountain expedition wandered away from all those who were with him, he came to a solitary mountain farm just after he had shot a hare. The farmer, who had seen tlie shot, complimented the* stranger sportsman on the excellence of his shooting. The King admitted that he did consider himself a pretty fair shot. “ I wish to Heaven,” said the farmer, looking at him wistfully, “ that you could shoot a fox that robs my poultry-yard almost every night! I’d give a motta fan obsolete Piedmontese piece, worth eight cents) to have him killed!” “Perhaps I could!” said the King. “ But you must be here by three o’clock in the morning. That’s about the time he always comes!” “ Well, a motta, you say! I’ll try for it. I’ll be here about that time to-morrow morning!" Accordingly, without allowing anyone to know the errand on which he w r as bound, the King found himself at Sie mountain homestead at the appointed hour, and posted himself in a favorable position for watching the proceedings of the depredator of the farm-yard. Reynard did not make himself long waited for, but fell dead at the first slmt of the royal marksman, to the great delight of the farmer, who, true to liis word, came down with his motta on the nail handsomely. The King pocketed the coin, and went off to exhibit it with great glee as “ the first money lie had ever earned by the w’ork of his own hands.”