Hospitable welcome at Uibanya--Excursion to the Servian side of the
Danube--Ascent of the Stierberg--Bivouac in the woods--Magnificent
views towards the Balkans--Fourteen eagles disturbed--Wallack
dance.
A couple of days after my arrival at Uibanya, my friend F---- kindly
arranged a little expedition into Servia, with the object of making the
ascent of the Stierberg, a mountain of respectable elevation, commanding
very fine views. Our guide was the postmaster of Plavishovitza, who
professed a knowledge of the country round about. We drove down to the
Danube, and there crossed the river in a primitive "dug-out," and almost
immediately commenced the ascent of the Stierberg. It became quite dark
by the time we got half-way up the mountain; this we were prepared for,
having made arrangements for camping out the night. We had brought with
us an ample store of provisions, not forgetting our plaids. The heat was
so great when we started that we dispensed with coats, and even
waistcoats, and went on rejoicing in the cool freedom of our
shirt-sleeves. Each wore a broad leather waist-belt, stuck round with
revolvers and bowie-knives. I believe we looked like a couple of the
veriest brigands. Had we only been spotted by a "correspondent," I make
little doubt that we should have been telegraphed as "atrocities" to the
London evening papers.
The more civilisation closes round one, the more enjoyable is an
occasional "try back" into barbarism. This feeling made the mere fact of
camping out seem delightful. Our first care was to select a suitable
spot; we found a clearing that promised well, and here we made a halt.
We deposited our _batterie de cuisine_, arranged our plaids, and then
proceeded to make a fire with a great lot of dried sticks and logs of
wood. The fire was soon crackling and blazing away in grand style,
throwing out mighty tongues of flame, which lit up the dark recesses of
the forest.
Now came the supper, which consisted of robber-steak and tea. I always
stuck to my tea as the most refreshing beverage after a long walk or
ride. I like coffee in the morning before starting--good coffee, mind;
but in the evening there is nothing like tea. The robber-steak is
capital, and deserves an "honourable mention" at least: it is composed
of small bits of beef, bacon, and onion strung alternately on a piece of
stick; it is seasoned with pinches of _paprika_ and salt, and then
roasted over the fire, the lower end of the stick being rolled backwards
and forwards between your two palms as you hold it over the hot embers.
It makes a delicious relish with a hunch of bread.
Our camp-fire and its surroundings formed a romantic scene. We had three
Serbs with us as attendants, and there was F---- and myself, all seated
in a semicircle to windward of the smoke. The boles of the majestic
beech-trees surrounding us rose like stately columns to support the
green canopy above our heads, and in the interstices of the leafy roof
were visible spaces of sky, so deeply blue that the hue was almost lost
in darkness; but out of the depths shone many a bright star in infinite
brilliancy. The scene was picturesque in the highest degree. The
flickering firelight, our Serbians in their quaint dresses moving about
the gnarled roots and antlered branches of the trees, upon which the
light played fitfully, and the mystery of that outer rim of darkness,
all helped to impress the fancy with the charm of novelty.
After supper was finished, and duly cleared away, we all disposed
ourselves for sleep, taking care to have the guns ready at hand, for we
might be disturbed by a wolf or a bear on his nightly rounds. Our
attendants had previously collected some large logs of wood, large
almost as railway-sleepers, to keep up a good fire through the night.
Wrapping my plaid round me, I laid myself down, confident that I should
sleep better than in the softest feather bed. I gave one more look at
the romantic scene, and then turned on my side to yield to the
drowsiness of honest fatigue.
But, alas! there was no sleep for me. I had hardly closed my eyes when I
was attacked by a regiment of mosquitoes. I was so tormented by these
brutes that I never slept a wink. I sat up the greater part of the night
battling with them; and what provoked me more was the tranquillity of
F----'s slumbers. I could bear it no longer, so at three A.M. I
woke him up, saying it was time for us to be stirring if we wanted to
get to the top of the mountain to see the sun rise. I believe he thought
I need not have called him so early, and grumbled a little, which was
very unreasonable, for the fellow had been sleeping for hours to my
knowledge. Rousing our Serbs, we set them about making preparations for
breakfast; but when the water was boiled and the tea made, it turned out
to be utterly undrinkable. The water-cask had had sour wine in it, and
the water was spoiled. We consoled ourselves with the hope that we might
get some sheep's milk on the mountain.
We reached the summit of the Stierberg before five o'clock; it has no
great elevation, but the position commands magnificent views of all the
surrounding country. Advancing to the verge of the precipice overlooking
the Danube, a sheer wall of rock 2000 feet in depth, we signalled our
arrival by discharging our rifles simultaneously. This "set the wild
echoes flying." Each cliff and scaur of the narrow gorge flung back the
ringing sound till the sharp reverberations stirred the whole defile.
Before the fusillade had ceased we beheld a sight I shall never forget.
The sound had disturbed a colony of eagles, who make their nests in
these rocky fissures. They flew out in every direction from the face of
the cliff, and went soaring round and round, evidently in much alarm at
the unwonted noise. We counted fourteen of these magnificent birds. I
wanted to get a shot at one, but they never came near enough. After
circling round for several minutes they flew with one accord to the
opposite woods, and were no more seen.
The view from the Stierberg is splendid. On every side were stretches of
primeval forest. Bounding the horizon on the north-east we made out the
Transylvanian Alps; to the south lay Servia, and more distant still the
Balkan Mountains. As the sun rose higher, lighting up in a marvellous
way all the details of this fair landscape, we could see far eastward a
strip of the Danube flashing in the sunbeams.
We turned reluctantly from the grand panorama, but we began to feel the
distressing effects of thirst. We had failed to procure any sheep's
milk, but the postmaster declared that when we got back to our
camping-place we should be able to find some fresh water. Arrived at
this pleasant spot, we rested under the beech-trees, and sent off two of
the Serbs to look for water. After waiting some time one of them brought
us some, but it was from a stagnant pool, alive with animalculæ, quite
unfit to drink. I never remember suffering so much from thirst. The heat
was excessive, but happily before reaching the Danube we found a
delicious spring gushing out from the limestone rock. It was an
indescribable refreshment for thirsty souls. We further regaled
ourselves with a good meal at the village on the Hungarian side of the
Danube, after crossing again in the "dug-out."
The pope of the village entered into conversation with us, and finding I
was a stranger he ordered a Wallack dance for our amusement. The
costumes of the women were picturesque, but the dance itself was a slow
affair, very unlike the lively _czardas_ of the Magyar peasant.