At St Miklos I put up at the house of an Armenian, who received me with a most frank and kindly welcome, conducting me to the guest-chamber himself after giving orders to the servants to attend to my horse. St Miklos is charmingly situated in the valley of Gyergyo, at an elevation of nearly 3000 feet above the sea-level. Here one is right in amongst the mountains, the higher summits rising grandly around. The scenery is very fine. There are interminable forests on every side, broken by ravines and valleys, with strips of green pasture-land. In former times these primeval woods were tenanted by the wild aurochs, but now one sees only the long-horned white cattle and the wiry little horses belonging to the villages that nestle about in unexpected places. St Miklos is almost entirely inhabited by Armenians. There is a market here, and it is considered the central place of the district. The year before my visit the town was nearly destroyed by fire. Upwards of three hundred houses were burned down in less than three hours. The loss of property was considerable, including stores of hay and _kukoricz_ (Indian corn).

Since this conflagration, which caused such widespread distress in the place, they have established a volunteer fire brigade. This ought to exist in every village. Prompt action would often arrest the serious proportions of a fire. It would be a good thing if some subst.i.tute could be found for the wooden tiles used for roofing; in course of time they become like tinder, and a spark will fire the roof. The houses in Hungary are not, as a rule, constructed of wood, as in Upper Austria and Styria, nor are they nearly so picturesque as in that part of the world.

In some Hungarian villages the cottages are painted partly blue and partly yellow, which has a very odd effect; and throughout the country they are built with the gable-end to the road.

When I was at St Miklos there was great excitement over the recent capture of a famous robber chief, whose band had kept the country-side in a state of alarm for some months past. I was asked if I would like to go and see him, and of course I was glad to get a sight at last of one of the robbers of whom I had heard so much in my travels. I was never more surprised than, on arriving in front of a very shaky wooden building, to be told that this was the prison. A few resolute fellows might have easily broken in and effected the rescue of their chief.

There was no romance about the appearance of the miserable wretch that we found within, stretched on a rough bed with wrists and feet heavily ironed. These manacles were hardly needed, for he was severely wounded, and seemed incapable of rising from his pallet. I never saw so repulsive a countenance; and the flatness of the head was quite remarkable. His eyes were very prominent, and had the restless look of a hunted animal, which was painful in the extreme; but there was absolutely no redeeming expression of human feeling in the dark coa.r.s.e face. Well, there was something human about him though. I was told he had been photographed that morning, and that he had expressed considerable satisfaction at the idea of his portrait being preserved. He was under sentence of death!

There were various stories told of his capture, but I think the following is the true account. It appears that he and his gang made their appearance from time to time in the forest round the well-known watering-place of Borsek. When visitors were on their way to the baths, they were frequently stopped by the robbers in a mountain pa.s.s, in the immediate neighbourhood of a dense forest that stretches far away for miles and miles over the frontier. It was the custom of the robbers to demand all the money, and they would relieve the travellers of their fur cloaks and overcoats, and other useful articles; but if they did not offer any resistance, they were permitted to go on uninjured, to take their cure at the baths. I should doubt, however, that anybody would be welcome there without a well-filled purse; at least I judge so from what I heard of the eminently commercial character of the place.

The robbers had the game in their own hands for a long while, but they made a mistake one fine day. They stopped a handsome equipage, which seemed to promise a good haul; but lo, behold, it was the _Obergespannirz_, the lord-lieutenant of the county! He had four good horses, and so saved himself by flight. But the authorities now really bestirred themselves, and the soldiers were called out to exterminate this troublesome brood. They were accompanied by a renowned bear-slayer who knew the forest well. It was with great difficulty that they succeeded at last in tracking the robbers, or rather robber, for it was only the chief who was trapped after all. It appears that the soldiers and their guide came upon a small hut surrounded by almost impenetrable thickets. The hunter crept on in advance of the rest, and looking into the interior through the c.h.i.n.ks of timbers, he saw a man drying his clothes by a small fire. He quietly said, "Good-day." The robber started up, and seizing his gun, flung open the door and fired his fowling-piece at once at his visitor. Fortunately the powder proved to be damp, or he must have received the full charge. The bear-slayer was now in close quarters, and fired off his revolver within a short distance of the other's head. The shot took effect, and he fell in a heap stunned and senseless. At first they thought he was dead, and it is marvellous that the well-aimed discharge did not kill him. His skull must have been uncommonly thick. This fellow was known to be the leader. The rest of the gang had probably escaped into Moldavia, from whence they came.

My friends at St Miklos were kind enough to promise to get up a bear-hunt for me, and it was arranged that I should go and see the baths of Borsek, and return on Sat.u.r.day night, so as to be ready for the bear-hunt on Sunday. The "better observance of the Sabbath" is always a.s.sociated with bear-hunting in these parts.

I left St Miklos in a snowstorm, though it was only the 16th of September--very early for such signs of winter. I was not prepared for wintry weather. It frustrated my plans and expectations a good deal. I was disappointed, too, in the climate, for I had always heard that the late autumn is about the finest time for Transylvania.

I have invariably remarked that whenever I go to a new country it is the signal for "abnormal meteorological disturbances," as they call bad weather in the newspapers. My own notion is that weather is a very mixed affair everywhere.

For three mortal hours I rode on through a blinding snowstorm. At length I espied the ruin of an unfinished cottage by the wayside, and here I bethought me I would take shelter and see after my dinner; for whatever happens, I can be hungry directly afterwards--I think an earthquake would give me an appet.i.te.

My unfurnished lodgings were in as wild a spot as imagination could picture. No wonder that the builder had abandoned the construction of this solitary dwelling; why it had ever been commenced pa.s.ses my comprehension. It was just at the entrance of a mountain valley, treeless, stony, and rugged, through which there were at intervals the semblance of a track--a desolate, G.o.d-forgotten-looking place. On consulting the map I found that the "road" led to Moldavia. I resolved it should not lead me there. Here then, in this dreary spot, with its gable-end to the road, and turning away from the prospect--and no wonder--stood the carca.s.s of a cottage. My horse and I scrambled over the breach in the wall, where a garden never had smiled, and got into the roofless house. It was with considerable difficulty that I found sticks enough for my kitchen fire. I had to try back on the route I had pa.s.sed, for I remembered not far in the rear a group of firs standing sentinels in the pa.s.s. I always took care to have an end of rope in my pocket; with this I tied up my f.a.got, shouldered it, and returned to the house of entertainment. The result of my trouble was a blazing fire, whereat I cooked an excellent robber-steak. I made myself some tea, and afterwards enjoyed--yes, actually enjoyed--my pipe. There is a pleasure in battling with circ.u.mstances, even in such a small affair as getting one's dinner under difficulties.

After washing-up (by good-luck there was a stream near by), I packed up my belongings, and giving a last look around to see that I had left nothing, I departed without as much as a _pourboire_ for "service," one of the advantages of self-help.

The prospect for the rest of my ride was not lively, a good ten miles yet to be done on a bad road. It had ceased to snow, but the clouds kept driving down into the valley as if the very heavens themselves were in a state of mobilisation. It is curious to notice sometimes in the higher Carpathians how the clouds march continuously through the winding valleys; always moving and driving on, these compact ma.s.ses of vapour are impelled by the currents of air in the defiles which seam the mountains.

My way was now through an interminable pine-forest, the road stretching in a perfectly straight line and at a perceptible rise. Indeed it was uphill work altogether. The ceaseless dripping of the rain made the whole scene as cheerless as it well could be. The snow had turned to cold dull rain, which was far more depressing. I wished the mineral springs at Borsek had never been discovered. It was too late to turn back to St Miklos, where I devoutly wished myself, so I had nothing to do but plod on with my waterproof tight round me. It was impossible to go fast, for in places the mud was very deep and the road was beset with big stones.

It was dark when I reached Borsek, and again I wished I had never come.

The inn was very uncomfortable; there was no fireplace in any of the rooms. The baths are only used in the height of summer, and if it turns cold, as it does sometimes at this elevation, people I suppose must freeze till it gets warm again. I had come a fortnight too late; the world of fashion departs from Borsek at the end of August. Ten or twelve springs rise within a short area, and vary curiously in quality and temperature. The source which is princ.i.p.ally used for exportation is remarkable for the quant.i.ty of carbonic acid it contains. About 12,000 bottles are filled every day; some 1500 on an average break soon after corking, owing partly to the bad quality of the bottles. There is a gla.s.s manufactory in the place, and though they have good material they turn out the work badly.

The export trade in the mineral waters is very large. They are much valued for long sea voyages, as the water keeps for years without losing its gaseous qualities.[21]

The baths of Borsek belong to two different parishes, and they are by no means agreed as to the management. Some years ago the princ.i.p.al spring was struck by lightning and entirely lost for a time, but after much digging it was found again. The situation of Borsek is extremely romantic, and in the height of summer it must be very delightful; but in summer only--let no one follow my example and go there out of season. Of course the place is surrounded by magnificent forests, but it is a crying shame to see how they have been treated. In every direction there is evidence of the ravages of fire. You may see in a morning's walk the blackened stems of thousands of trees, the results of Wallack incendiarism. If the Wallacks go on destroying the forests in this way, they will end in injuring the value of the place as a health resort; for the efficacy of the perfumed air of the pine-woods is well known, especially for all nervous diseases.

The houses are badly built at Borsek, and the arrangements for comfort are very incomplete. Most of the habitations appear to have been run up with green wood; the result may be pleasant and airy in summer, when the balmy breeze comes in from cracks in the doors and window-frames, but except in great heat, a perforated house is a mistake. People have to bring their own servants and other effects. I should say a portable stove would not be a bad item amongst the luggage.

The Borsek waters are very much drunk throughout Hungary, especially mixed with wine. Everywhere I noticed that eight people out of ten would take water with their wine at meals. In the district round there is splendid pasturage for cattle. Large numbers of cattle fed in these parts are now sent to Buda-Pest and Vienna. The serious drawback to Borsek is its great distance from a railway. The nearest station is Maros Vasarhely, which is nearly ninety miles away. The drive between the two places is very fine--that is, the scenery is fine, but the road itself is execrable. A telegraph wire connects Borsek with the outside world, but the post only comes twice a-week.

[Footnote 21: The waters of Borsek are much taken as an "after-cure."]

CHAPTER XXVI.

Moldavian frontier--Tolgyes--Excitement about robbers--Attempt at extortion--A ride over the mountains--Return to St Miklos.

Instead of going back to St Miklos by the same route, I resolved to diverge a little if the weather permitted. I wanted to visit Tolgyes, a village on the frontier of Moldavia, which is said to be very pretty.

The weather decidedly improved, so I rode off in that direction. The road, owing to the late rains, was in a dreadful state. All the mountain summits were covered with fresh snow; it was a lovely sight. The dazzling whiteness of these peaks rising above the zone of dark fir-trees was singularly striking and beautiful. The effect of sunshine was exhilarating in the highest degree, and the contrast with my recent experience gave it a keener relish.

At Tolgyes there is a considerable trade with Moldavia in wood. Quite a fresh human interest was imparted to the scene by this industry. By the side of the stream small rafts were in course of construction, and the trunks of the trees were being placed in position to make the descent of the stream. The woodman's axe was heard in the forest, and many a picturesque hut or group of huts were to be seen by the roadside, where the woodmen and their families live, to be near their work. The labour of getting the timber along these tortuous mountain streams is very great. A ready market is found at Galatz, where a great deal of this wood is sent.

I remained the night at Tolgyes. The whole place was in a state of excitement about brigands; every one had some fresh rumour to help swell the general panic. A company of soldiers were kept constantly patrolling the roads in the neighbourhood. I should say they were pretty safe not to encounter the robbers, who are always well informed under those circ.u.mstances.

In studying my pocket-map, I found that there was clearly a short cut over the mountains to St Miklos. On inquiry I extracted the confirmation of the fact with difficulty, and I had still more difficulty in inducing anybody to go with me as a guide. At length I secured the services of a fellow who was willing to go for a tolerably substantial "consideration." I was afraid to work my way entirely by the map, for roads are apt to be vague in these parts. Ten chances to one whether you know a road when you see it; it might be a green sward, or the rubbly dry bed of a mountain torrent, or a cattle-track; it may lead somewhere or nowhere. Una.s.sisted you may wander all manner of ways.

I made my start very early in the morning, for I had a long way to go, and my guide was on foot; there was not much use in being mounted, considering the pace that the roughness of the road forced us to take.

Before leaving Tolgyes I had a row with the innkeeper. He made a most exorbitant demand upon me, at least three times over what was properly due. I told him at once that I declined to pay the full amount he asked.

I knew perfectly well what the charge ought to be, and I said I should pay that and no more. Hereupon he got very angry, and informed me that he should not saddle my horse or let me go till I had paid him in full.

I immediately went into the stable and saddled the horse myself; I then put down on the window-seat the money which I considered was due to him, giving a fair and liberal margin, but I was not going to be "done"

because I was a foreigner. I ordered my guide to proceed, and I myself quickly rode out of the place. The innkeeper worked himself up into a tremendous rage, and declared he would have me back, or at least he would have his cold meat and bread back that I had ordered for the journey. I gave my horse the rein, and left the fellow uttering his blessings both loud and deep.

We had ten miles of as bad a road as any I had yet seen in my travels.

The mud in some places was two feet deep. We followed the windings of a stream called the Putna Patak, and came presently to a wayside inn frequented by foresters. Here we made a short halt, got a bottle of decent wine and a crust of bread. Immediately on quitting this place we turned into a less frequented path, and began a stiffish ascent. It was a superb day, and I enjoyed it immensely, not having been much favoured by weather lately. Our route was through a thick forest, the trees, as usual in these, magnificent, with their gigantic girth, and widespreading branches. At times I got a glimpse of the snowy mountain summits standing out against the intensely blue sky.

At mid-day I told the guide to look out for the next spring, for there we would dine. We did not find a spring for some time, at least not by the wayside, and I was reluctant to lose time by wandering about. At length when we had secured a water-tap--viz., a little trickling rill flowing between some stones and spongy moss--we found ourselves in a difficulty about the fire. There was plenty of wood, but it was all soaking wet and would not burn. Luckily a fir-tree was spied out, which provided us with a good quant.i.ty of turpentine, and with this we persuaded the fire to blaze up a bit. We cooked the dinner, had a smoke, a short rest, and then _en avant_--always through the forest.

Later in the afternoon, emerging from the wood, we came upon a gra.s.sy plateau which commanded a glorious view of the Transylvanian side of the Carpathians. I was glad to see the familiar valley of Gyergyo away westward, with its numerous villages and green pasturage. The same physical peculiarity pervades the whole of Hungary. Whenever you get a vale of any extent, it is as flat as if it were a bit of the great plain. Everywhere you have the impression that formerly the waters of a lake must have covered the level verdure of the valley. As soon as I caught sight of St Miklos I dismissed my guide, for his services were no longer required, and I could get on quicker without him. I had still a long distance to go, for I was not far below the summit. I was extremely anxious to get into safe quarters before dark, so I made the best of the way, leading my horse down the steep bits, and mounting again for a short trot where it was possible.

On arriving at the house of my Armenian friends at St Miklos, happily before sundown, I was greatly disappointed to find that there would be no bear-hunt the next day. Those detestable robbers had turned up again, and the people who were to have formed part of the sporting expedition were obliged to go robber-hunting, a sport not much to their taste I fancy.

It appeared that the fellows had entered an out-of-the-way inn, or rather wine-shop, and boldly ordered the owner to procure for them a certain amount of gunpowder, which they required should be ready for them the next day, and failing to carry out their orders, they threatened to shoot him. He was obliged to promise, for there were five of them, and except women he was alone in the house. They drank a quant.i.ty of his wine, and asked for no reckoning, saying they would pay for it the next day along with the gunpowder.

Directly they had left the premises, the innkeeper set off as fast as his legs could carry him to St Miklos to ask for help. The robbers seemed to be such bunglers that one would judge them to be new to the business; but the innkeeper's terror knew no bounds, and he declared they were awful-looking cut-throats. Two of the men were caught the next day. I saw them brought into the village heavily manacled; they were harmless-looking Wallacks, not very different in appearance from my guide over the mountain. Though armed with guns, they made no resistance; and when they were discovered they had called out l.u.s.tily to the soldiers not to fire, for they would give themselves up. I expect they were let off with imprisonment, but I never heard the end of the story. I owed them a grudge for spoiling my bear-hunt, which I missed altogether, for I could not wait until the following Sunday.

I left St Miklos with an introduction to some rich Armenians at Toplicza, where I intended making my next halt.

CHAPTER XXVII.

Toplicza--Armenian hospitality--A bear-hunt--A ride over to the frontier of Bukovina--Destruction of timber--Maladministration of State property--An unpleasant night on the mountain--Snowstorm.

At Toplicza I was very hospitably received by the family to whom I took the letter of introduction from my friends at the last place.

Unfortunately I could not converse with the elders of the family, for they spoke no German, and my Hungarian was limited. However, there was a charming young lady with whom I found no difficulty in getting on; she understood not only the language but the literature of Germany.

A bear-hunt was soon proposed in my honour. The headman of the village was brought into our council, and he quickly sent round orders that everybody was to appear the following day--which conveniently happened to be _fete_ day--for a hunt. Those who had guns would be placed at different "stands," and those who had no guns were expected to act as beaters.

The _Richter_, or headman, was a fine specimen of a Wallack; he was six feet three, broad chested, with flowing black hair--a handsome fellow of that type. I told him I should not like to fight him if he knew how to use his fists. He was pleased at the little compliment. The next day the Wallacks came pouring in from all the outlying parts of the village. It was really a very picturesque sight. The men wore thongs of leather round their feet in place of boots; and those who had no guns were armed with the usual long staff surmounted by the formidable axe-head.

A great deal of time was wasted in preparations. The Wallacks are the most dilatory people in the whole world. It was nearly three o'clock before we got to the forests where we hoped to give Bruin a rendezvous.

The guns that some of the party carried were "a caution"--more fit for a museum of armoury than for anything else. The Wallacks try to remedy the inefficiency of their guns by cramming in very large charges of powder, at least two bullets, and some buckshot besides. I often thought the danger was greater to themselves than to the bear. They never fire over twenty-five yards, and in fact generally allow the bear to come within twelve yards, when they pepper away at him.

At last we were in position. It is usual to have a second gun, but I had only my rifle and revolver; unfortunately my gun was with my baggage at Maros Vasarhely. After waiting for some time without hearing anything but the creaking of the pine-trees in the wind, the advance of the beaters was at length audible. You hear repeated thuds with their axes on the trees, and you know that they are beating up your way. All at once I heard the unmistakable tread of some heavy four-footed beast. I held my breath, fearing to betray my presence. Nearer and nearer came the heavy tread, the branches cracking as the animal broke its way through the thicket. It must be a bear of the largest size, thought I, with a glow of delight warming up my whole frame at this supreme moment.

I had just raised the rifle to my shoulder, when--judge my disgust--when emerging from the thicket I saw a stray ox make his appearance! I could hardly resist putting a bullet into the stupid brute's carca.s.s, but I remembered that I should have to pay for that little game.

We moved on to another part of the forest, and the same programme of taking our positions and arranging the course of the beaters was gone through; but we met with no success. This was the more provoking, because on our return we found the fresh slot of a bear. He had evidently just saved himself in time; the marks of his claws were quite visible in the soft mud.