Hartl Hörmannsdorfer.

Eugyppius has a great story of the local renown of a brave poacher.

Hörmannsdorfer is a semi-forgotten local hero, who fought in World War II as a Heeresbergführer [Army Mountain Guide] only to return to a broken Germany. In the fall of 1948, when food was scarce, he dared to breach American prohibitions on bearing arms and hunting, and betook himself to the high Wildalpjoch in search of game.

There, he was spotted by a gamekeeper from Brannenburg, who shot him – as legend has it, in the back. It was the harsh if customary penalty for poaching. The gamekeeper, who thought he’d missed, left Hörmannsdorfer dead in the mountains, and it took the townspeople six days to find him. They brought his body back to the valley and gave him the most festive funeral in living memory. As Die Zeit reported in 1954:

The band played the poacher’s song “Ich schieß den Hirsch im wilden Forst.” Marksmen from all around paid their last respects to their comrade. As was the custom when a royal prince was born, firecrackers echoed from the mountains. Tyrolean poachers slipped across the border, and those who could sported fresh Gamsbärte in their hats from poached chamois, to mock the Brannenburg gamekeepers. Many vowed to avenge Hartl.

On Hörmannsdorfer’s gravestone they etched this defiant inscription:

Here rests our dear Hartl Hörmannsdorfer, who on 30 [November] 1948, at the age of 40 years, was shot by a cowardly forest warden while poaching.

The years passed; Hörmannsdorfer became a local legend and even the subject of a forgotten play called the “Poacher from Bayrischzell.”…

After the founding of the Federal Republic in 1949, the Brannenburg gamekeepers sued to have the inscription removed, on the grounds that it insulted their profession. The local court agreed, and ruled in 1954 that the verse and especially the adjective “cowardly” had to go.

From Die Zeit again:

After six years, the anger has faded. It’s just as well that the stone has been removed, people say, and anyway there should be peace in the cemetery. But Hartl will remain a hero of the people, no court or authority can change that, because in the eyes of the commoners he practised the fundamental rights of a free man and paid the highest price for it.

Eventually the townspeople replaced the stone, with the modified inscription you can read today and an awkward space where the word “cowardly” used to stand.

RTWT

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Ich schieß’ den Hirsch im grünen Forst

1. Ich schieß’ den Hirsch im grünen Forst, im tiefen Wald das Reh,
Den Adler auf der Klippe Horst, die Ente auf dem See;
Kein Ort, der Schutz gewähren kann, wo meine Büchse zielt!
|: Und dennoch hab’ ich harter Mann die Liebe auch gefühlt. :|

2. Kampiere oft zur Winterszeit in Sturm und Wetternacht,
Hab’ überreist und überschneit den Stein zum Bett gemacht;
Auf Dornen schlief ich wie auf Flaum, vom Nordwind unberührt
|: Und dennoch hat die harte Brust die Liebe auch gespührt. :|

3. Der wilde Falk ist mein Gesell, der Wolf mein Kampfgespann;
Der Tag geht mir mit Hundsgebell, die Nacht mit Hussa an;
Ein Tannreis schmückt statt Blumenzier den schweißbefleckten Hut
|: Und dennoch schlug die Liebe mir ins wilde Jägerblut. :|

4. O Schäfer auf dem weichen Moos, der du mit Blumen spielst,
Wer weiß, ob du so heiß, so groß wie ich die Liebe fühlst.
Allnächtlich über’m schwarzen Wald, vom Mondenschein umstrahlt,
|: Schwebt Königshehr die Lichtgestalt, wie sie kein Meister malt. :|

5. Wenn sie dann auf mich niedersieht, wenn mich ihr Blick durchglüht,
Da weiß ich, wie dem Wild geschieht, das vor dem Rohre flieht.
Und doch! mit allem Glück vereint, das nur auf Erden ist,
|: Als wenn der allerbeste Freund mich in die Arme schließt. :|

6. Ich sah den Freund dahingestreckt, gefällt von Ebers Zahn,
Ich hab’ ihn in das Gras gelegt und keine Träne rann.
Mit Hussa ging’s, mit Hundsgebell, ins stille Tal hinab,
|: Und dennoch hab’ ich harter Mann, geweint an Liebchens Grab. :|

7. Und wenn ich einst gestorben bin, und lieg’ im kalten Schrein,
Als braver Bursch, wie ich gelebt, will ich begraben sein.
Dann gebt mir auch mein Cerevis, den Schläger in die Hand,
|: Und schlingt mir um die kalte Brust das rot-weiß-grüne Band. :|

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1. I shoot the deer in the green forest, the deer in the deep forest,
The eagle on the cliff nest, the duck upon the lake;
No place that can provide protection where my rifle is aimed!
|: And yet, though I’m a hard man, I also have felt love. :|

2. Often camp in winter in storms and weather nights,
I traveled over and made the stone into a bed when covered in snow;
I slept on thorns as if on down, untouched by the north wind
|: And yet my hard chest also felt love. :|

3. The wild falcon is my companion, the wolf’s my battle teammate;
I spend the day with barking dogs, the night with Hussa;
Instead of flowers, a fir rice adorns the sweat-stained hat
|: And yet love struck into my wild hunter blood. :|

4. O shepherd on the soft moss, you who play with flowers,
Who knows if you feel love as hot, as big as I do.
Every night over the black forest, illuminated by the moonlight,
|: Königshehr floats the figure of light, as no master paints it. :|

5. When she looks down on me, when her gaze glows through me,
Then I know what happens to the wild animal that flees from the pipe.
And yet! united with all the happiness that is on earth,
|: As if my very best friend was hugging me. :|

6. I saw my friend stretched out, felled by Boar’s tooth,
I laid him on the grass and not a tear fell.
With Hussa we went down into the quiet valley with dogs barking,
|: And yet I, a hard man, cried at Darling’s grave. :|

7. And when I die once and lie in the cold shrine,
I want to be buried as a good boy like I lived.
Then give me my cerevis, the bat in my hand,
|: And wraps the red-white-green ribbon around my cold chest. :|
​

Look closer.

These photographs are being widely distributed on the Internet, with the caprids misidentified as Bighorn sheep.

The location is actually Lake Cingino, a reservoir created by adding a dam and enlarging a small lake in the Valley of Antrona in the Italian Alps.

The animals on the dam are -chamois- Alpine Ibex, Capra ibex, who apparently frequent the dam face in search of salts that accumulate on the rocks of the dam.

Maurizio Piazzai has a couple more photos of -chamois- Alpine Ibex on the Lake Cingino dam here.

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Correction:

I had originally misidentified the animals on the dam as chamois, believing that the range of the Alpine Ibex in Italy was still limited to Gran Paradiso National Park. The absence in available photos of any full-horned rams faciliated my misidentification.

This factsheet shows that the current range of Alpine Ibex definitely includes the Valle Antrona.

Thanks to John Burchard for the correction.

7:19 video of Golden Eagle(s?), Aquila chrysaetos, preying upon what appear to be Rupicapra pyrenaica, Izards or Pyrenaean chamois. A particularly effective hunting technique consists of snatching the goat-antelope off the cliff and simply dropping it.