“I well remember another incident of the kind. I was riding rapidly through some young timber in a large wood a considerable distance from home. As I was crossing over a hollow road the horse stumbled and fell, and I lost consciousness. I must have lain there senseless for about three hours, as it was already twilight by the time I stirred. The horse was standing near me. As I said, the place was at a great distance from our estate, and I was entirely unacquainted with the district. I had not yet quite recovered my senses, but on this occasion also I did what was necessary. I took off the martingale, which was broken, and followed the road across a rather long bridge which, as I then ascertained, was the nearest way to a farm in the neighbourhood. The farmer’s wife ran away on seeing a big man standing before her with his face all covered with blood. Her husband, however, came to me and wiped away the blood. I told him who I was, and as I was hardly fit for such a long ride home I asked him to drive me there, which he accordingly did. I must have been shot fifteen feet out of the saddle and fallen against the root of a tree. On the doctor examining my injuries, he said it was against all the rules of his art that I had not broken my neck. “I have also been a couple of other times in danger of my life,” continued the Chief. “For instance, before the Semmering railway was finished (I believe it was in 1852) I went with a party through one of the tunnels. It was quite dark inside. I went ahead with a lantern. Now right across the floor of the tunnel was a rift or gully, which must have been about fifteen feet deep and half as wide again as this table. A plank was laid across it, with a raised skirting board on both sides to prevent the wheelbarrows from slipping off. This plank must have been rotten, as when I reached the middle it broke in two and I fell down; but having probably involuntarily stretched out my arms, I remained hanging on the skirting. The lantern having gone out, those behind thought I had fallen into the gully, and were not a little surprised when the reply to their question, ‘Are you still alive?’ instead of coming from the depths below came from just under their feet. I answered, ‘Yes, here I am.’ I had in the meantime recovered hold also with my feet, and I asked whether I should go on or come back. The guide thought I had better go on to the other side, and so I worked my way over. The workman who acted as our guide then struck a light, got another plank, and brought the party across. That plank was a good example of the slovenly way in which such things were managed in Austria at that time; because I cannot believe that it was intentional. I was not hated in Vienna then as I am now--on the contrary.”