THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
weapon, and, like Samson with the ass's jawbone, charge upon and drive the Philistines irresistibly before him.
It was the custom in each parish to hold an annual “Schützenfest,” or bird-shooting. An imitation bird, made of a block of wood, strengthened with iron bands and plates, was fastened to a tall pole, from sixty to eighty feet or more from the ground. The shooting was done with rifles, and he who brought down the last bit of the wooden bird won the prize and was crowned king. This custom still exists today in many parts of Germany. If, upon such occasions, in the neighborhood of Liblar, the Burghalfen failed to appear, the festival was incomplete; but he seldom did fail. With his big rifle he was almost always among the first on the spot. This rifle, called “der Ferkelstecher” (the pigsticker), was a most remarkable and formidable weapon. Why it was so called I do not remember. It discharged a good handful of powder and a ball weighing fully eight ounces, and was so heavy that the strongest man could not hold it horizontally from his shoulder without support. Even my grandfather always placed one of his tallest yeomen behind him to grasp the weapon upon its heavy recoil. Innumerable were the birds brought down with this formidable instrument. Every victory was followed by a feast at the tavern, which not only swept away all the prize-money, but a goodly sum besides; and not seldom did the victor return home with a hot and heavy head.
But the Burghalfen was also a thorough husbandman; intelligent, energetic and indefatigable. Bright and early in the morning he was up and joined his laborers in the field, not only giving directions, but when occasion required setting a good example by doing himself the most arduous task. I still see him before me as, according to custom, he drove the first harvest load into the barn, whip in hand, sitting on one of the
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