After the avalanche, the lodge stayed covered in snow for months, but I found an entrance at the back. Two days later we have the St. Huberto’s holiday in Slovakia. So my friends invited me to the celebration.
To get there I cut a tree to put over this stream, a stream of water that goes around the Roztoka, to get on the other side and down to Slovakia. I went and cut the tree for the bridge, I used the axe to cut steps and now I have something with steps and so on, like a bridge over the river. Heh, Heh. And Eh. And so I crossed the river and went to celebrate the St. Huberto’s holiday.*
St. Huberto’s holiday was on the Slovakia side of the Tatra Mountains. So first of all, when I got there I saw two big kettles, one full of pálinka. Pálinka is a vodka, very strong. I guess here it would be about 160 American proof. I like pálinka very much. The other kettle was boiling with the meat of the deer – venison. The meat was very good.
So everybody gets a pint of deer, and a pint of pálinka. And we’re eating and everybody is happy. We are singing songs and happy. On the second pint of pálinka, only a few are singing. Some of us just sat there thinking about what we lost during the war, and crying, tears rolling down their cheeks. I was crying too, when I thought about the war.
They encouraged me and kept cheering me on with a third cup of pálinka. “Go on. Go on. You’re a young fellow, you can drink!”
When everyone got quiet, I sat off by myself and decided to go home. I think I had three or four cups of pálinka. I went to the river, and looked all up and down but I couldn’t find my bridge. So I said the hell with it and just walked through the river and went home. I got home, laid down in my clothes and fell asleep right away.
When everyone got quiet, I sat off by myself and decided to go home. I think I had three or four cups of pálinka. I went to the river, and looked all up and down but I couldn’t find my bridge. So I said the hell with it and just walked through the river and went home. I got home, laid down in my clothes and fell asleep right away.
In the morning I woke up but I cannot move. What the hell? I tried to sit up and I saw what happened. My legs were frozen on the outside – frozen and that’s inside the lodge. Inside (myself) I was still warm from the pálinka. I didn’t feel too good, but I was alright enough. Again, I was lucky – no frostbite or anything. You know – in Poland in the winter it’s so cold when you spit it’s frozen before it hits the ground.
I like pálinka very much. And I have something else I like very much: potato vodka. – Henry Zguda
*According to two Catholic web sites, St. Hubert, or Hubertus, or for Henry Huberto is the patron saint of hunters. His feast day is November 3.

So I accept that hunters, and St. Huberto, as patron saint of hunters, is very honored in that part of Europe. And I readily admit I doubt I’d last past three sips of Pálinka. Henry always offered me a shot of vodka when we’d meet – maybe because we usually met at 9 am, I never accepted that shot of vodka!