Hunting for a guide--School statistics--Old times--Over the
mountains to Herrmannstadt--Night in the open--Nearly setting the
forest on fire--Orlat.
I found some difficulty while at Petrosèny in getting a guide to convoy
me over the mountains to Orlat, near Herrmannstadt. My Hungarian friend
proposed that, choosing a saint's day, we should ride over to the
neighbouring village of Pétrilla, where I would certainly find some
peasant able and willing amongst the numbers who crowd into the village
on these occasions.
Accordingly we went over, and I was very pleased I had gone, for the
rural gathering was a very pretty and characteristic sight. The people
from all the country round were collected together in the churchyard,
dressed of course in their bravery, and a very goodly show they made.
They were the finest Wallacks I had seen anywhere; they were superior
looking in physique, and many of them must really have been well off, if
one may judge a man's wealth by the richness of the wife's dress.
Some of the young girls were very pretty, and wore their silver-coin
decorations with quite a fashionable coquettish air. The Wallack women,
whether walking or standing, never have the spindle out of their hands:
the attitude is very graceful, added to which the thread must be held
daintily in the fingers. They are very industrious, making nearly all
the articles of clothing for the family.
After a great deal of palavering--I think we must have spoken to every
able-bodied man in the churchyard--I at last induced a young Wallachian
to say he would accompany me. He spoke a little German, which was a
great advantage. I told him to procure himself a good horse, and to take
care that all his arrangements were completed before night, as I wished
to start very early the following morning.
To this he replied that it would be quite necessary to start early, and
begged to know if five o'clock would be too soon; adding that as I must
pass through Pétrilla, would I meet him at the corner of the churchyard?
To this I agreed, repeating that we were to meet not a moment later than
five o'clock. My friend and I returned to Petrosèny, and the afternoon
was occupied in making preparations for two days on the mountains. I
supplied myself with a good amount of _slivovitz_, as a medium of
exchange for milk and cheese with the shepherds, who understand this
kind of barter much better than any money transactions.
The next day, when it came, brought a continuance of good weather, and I
was up betimes, looking forward with pleasure to the mountain ride. I
reached Pétrilla a few minutes after five o'clock; but my man was not at
the churchyard corner, whereupon I rode all round the churchyard,
thinking he might by mistake have pitched on some odd corner, and be out
of sight under the trees. However, I looked in vain--a man on horseback
is not hidden like a lizard between two stones! Verily he was not there.
I waited half an hour all to no purpose. I now resolved to try and find
out where he lived. I had understood that he belonged to the village.
After a great deal of trouble and bother, and poking of my nose into
various interiors where the families were still _en déshabillé_, I
unearthed my guide. He coolly said that he was waiting for the horse,
which was to be brought to him by some other lazy fellow not yet up.
I could not speak Wallachian, and he pretended not to understand a word
of my wrathful tirade in German, which was all nonsense, because I
found later that he spoke that language fairly well. I insisted that he
should come with me to find the horse, and so he did at last, in a
dilatory sort of way, and then it turned out that the animal was waiting
at the other end of the village for his rider.
Well, thought I, we shall start now; but no, there were two to that
bargain. The Wallack calmly informed me that he must return to his hut,
for he had not breakfasted. Not to lose sight of him, I returned too. He
then with Oriental deliberation set about making a fire, and proceeded
to cook his _polenta_ of maize. I had got hungry again by this time,
though I had breakfasted at Petrosèny before starting, so I partook of
some of his mess, which was exceedingly good, much better than oatmeal
porridge.
In consequence of all these delays it was after eight o'clock before we
really started. The horse which my guide had procured for himself was a
wretched animal--a tantalising object for vultures and
carrion-crows--instead of being a good strong horse, as I had stipulated
he should be; but there was no help for it now, so on we went.
My companion soon gave me to understand in good German that he was a
superior sort of fellow. He had been to school at Hatszeg, and knew a
thing or two. I have heard it stated that the Wallacks are so quick
that they make great and rapid progress at first, distancing the German
children; but that they seem to stop after a while, and even fall back
into ignorance and their old slovenly ways of life.
On referring to the statistics of Messrs Keleti and Beöthy, I see that
only eleven per cent of Roumains (Wallacks) attend the primary schools,
and this percentage had not increased between the years 1867 and 1874.
The percentage of the Magyars attending the primary schools is
forty-nine per cent, while the Slavs, again, are twenty-one.
"The world is only saved by the breath of the school-children," says the
Talmud. A conviction of this truth makes every inquiry into educational
progress extremely interesting. According to M. Keleti's tables,
fifty-three per cent of the males and sixty-two per cent of the females
in Hungary generally are still illiterates. This excludes from the
calculation children under six years of age. On comparing notes, other
countries do not come out so very much better. It is calculated that 30
per cent of French conscripts are unable to read; moreover, in _our_
"returns" of marriages in England in 1845, a percentage of forty-one
signed the register with _marks_. In 1874 the number of illiterates was
reduced to twenty-one per cent.
I elicited a good many interesting facts from my Wallack guide, several
that were confirmatory of the terrible ignorance existing amongst the
priesthood of the Greek Church. The popes do not commend themselves to
the good opinion of the male part of the community, whatever hold they
may have on the superstition of the women. I cannot see myself how
things are to be mended till the position and education of the
priesthood are improved. It is said that, in the old days before '48,
when the peasants had to render forced labour to the lord of the land,
the Transylvanian nobles would have the village pope up to the castle,
and keep him there for a fortnight in a state of intoxication, thus
preventing his giving out the saints' days at the altar on Sunday. This
was done that their own harvest-work should proceed without the
inconvenience of suspending operations at a critical time on _fête_
days, the people themselves being too ignorant to consult the calendar!
The Magyar nobles are improved, and do not play these pranks now; but
very little progress, I imagine, has been made on the side of the
priests. Chatting with my Wallack guide helped to beguile the tedious
nature of the ride, an ascent over roughish ground all the way. Arriving
at the summit, we made a noonday halt.
A fire was soon burning, whereat our dinner of robber-steak was
roasted; but the halt was shorter than usual, for I was anxious to push
on, remembering how much time had been lost at starting.
We now gained the other side of the mountain-chain, passing the remains
of an old Turkish camp, the outlines of which were quite visible. From
this point there is a magnificent view, interminable forests to the
eastward clothing the deep ravines that score the hillsides. The
accidents of light and shade were particularly happy on this occasion,
bringing out various details in the picture in a very striking manner.
As a general rule, there is no time so unpropitious for scenic effect as
noonday.
We passed from the grassy Alpen down into the thick of the forest,
losing very soon any glimpse of the distant view, or any help from
conspicuous landmarks. It was a labyrinth of trees, with tracks crossing
each other in a most perplexing manner. I could not have got on without
a guide.
When the evening approached I thought it was time to look out for
quarters for the night. Our first necessity was water, but we went on
and on without coming upon a stream. It was provoking, for we had passed
so many springs and rivulets earlier in the day, and now darkness
threatened to wrap us round with the mantle of night before we had
arranged our bivouac. When the sun sets in the East, it is like turning
off the gas; you are left in darkness suddenly, without any intervening
twilight. As a fact one knows this perfectly well; but habit is stronger
than reason, and day after day I went on being perplexed, and often
unready for the "early-closing" system.
"Water we must have," said I to the Wallack. "Let us strike off from the
direct route and follow the lead of this valley, we shall find water in
the bottom for a certainty."
We hurried forward, leading our horses through the thick undercover,
always diving deeper into the ravine. At length I discovered a trickling
amongst the stones, and a little farther on we came upon a grassy spot
beneath some enormous pine-trees. It was an ideal place for a bivouac!
When the horses had been carefully picketed, we proceeded to make a fire
and cook our supper, which consisted of gipsy-meat and tea.
The meal finished to my perfect satisfaction, (how good everything
tastes under such circumstances!) I then stretched myself on a sloping
bank overspread by a thick covering of dry _needle-wood_, as the Germans
call the leaves of the fir-tree. How soft and clean it felt, and how
sweet the aromatic perfume that pervaded the whole place! Lighting my
pipe, I gave myself up to the perfect enjoyment of repose amidst this
romantic scene. The Wallack, covered by his fur _bunda_, was already
asleep, and save the bubbling of the water in the little stream, and the
crackling of the fire, there was absolutely not a sound or a breath.
Through the tasselled pine branches, festooned with streamers of grey
moss, I could see the stars shining in the blue depths of ether. One can
realise in these regions the intense _depth_ of the heavens when seen at
night; we never get the same effect in our "weeping skies."
Before wrapping my plaid round me for the night, I threw some fresh wood
on the fire, which, crushing down upon the hot embers, sent up a
scintillating shower of sparks that ran a mad race in and out of the
greenery. I saw that the horses were all right, I put my gun handy, and
then I gave myself up to sleep.
I do not know how long I had slept, but I was conscious of being
bothered, and could not rouse myself at once. I dreamed that a bear was
sniffing at me, but instead of being the least surprised or frightened,
I said to myself in my dream, as if it was quite a common occurrence,
"That's the bear again, he always comes when I am asleep." The next
moment, however, I was very effectually awakened by a tug that half
lifted me off the ground. I must mention that I had tied my horse's
halter to my waist-belt in case of any alarm in the night, for I sleep
so soundly always that no ordinary noise or movement ever wakes me. I
sprang up of course, calling the Wallack at the same time. Something had
frightened the horses, and they had attempted to bolt. We found them
trembling from head to foot, but we could not discover the cause of
their fright. I fired off my revolver twice; the Wallack in the meantime
had lighted a bundle of resinous fir branches as a torch. He had
carefully arranged it before he slept; it is a capital thing, as it
gives a good light on an emergency.
After making an examination of the place all round, and finding nothing,
we made up a bright fire, and again laid ourselves down to rest. I had
my saddle for a pillow, and it was not half bad. Before giving myself
over to sleep I listened and listened again, but I heard nothing except
the hooting of the owls answering each other in the distance. The night
had grown very cold, and a heavy dew was falling, but notwithstanding
these discomforts I had another good nap.
Next morning, after a hearty breakfast, we were off early. Instead of
going uphill again to recover our former route, we followed the stream,
which gradually increased in size, and we came at last to a place where
a dam had been thrown across the valley with the object of floating the
wood cut in the forest. This small lake was very pretty; the water was
as clear as crystal. Farther on we came upon another dam of larger
dimensions; but though it had evidently been quite recently constructed,
there was no one about, and no signs of wood-cutting. Here we began to
ascend again, and about mid-day got to a place called La Durs, a
customhouse for cattle coming from Roumania; it is not absolutely on the
frontier, but very near it. I heard later that this district has a bad
reputation for smugglers and robbers, the latter being on the increase,
it is said; always the same story of unrepressed lawlessness on the
frontier.
We made no stay at the customhouse, but rode on a couple of miles
farther, where, coming upon a nice spring, we dined. Not a single
shepherd had we met, so there had been no chance of bartering for milk;
it was not surprising, because our track had been almost entirely in the
forests, and of course the shepherds are higher up on the Alpen. At this
last halting-place we nearly set the forest on fire. The grass was very
dry all round, and before I was aware of it, the fire ran along the
ground and caught the trees. It blazed up in an inconceivably short
time. I rushed up directly, to cut off what branches I could with my
bowie-knife; but though calling loudly to the Wallack to assist me, he
never concerned himself in the least. This exasperated me beyond
measure, seeing what mischief was likely to accrue from the
misadventure. Luckily a man came up, riding on one horse and leading
another, and he readily gave me a helping hand, and between us we put
out the fire. The Wallack never raised a finger!
Getting into conversation with the new-comer, I found that he was going
to Orlat, whereupon I arranged to go on with him. Accordingly I paid my
guide, and was not sorry to have done with him, he had so disgusted me
about the fire, and I was especially glad to get quit of his wretched
horse, which had greatly retarded our progress. I transferred my
saddle-bags to the spare horse, and we got on much faster, reaching
Orlat by sunset.
Before descending into the plain we had a magnificent view.
Herrmannstadt seemed almost at our feet, though in reality it was still
a long way off; the Fogaraser Mountains stretching away towards
Kronstadt, appeared in all their picturesque irregularity, and along the
plain at their base were scattered the villages of the Saxonland, each
with its fortress-church, a relic of the old time, when the brave
burghers had to hold their own against Turk and Tartar.
At Orlat I found a small inn, but they had no travellers' room in it;
however some of the family were good enough to turn out, and I was very
glad to turn in, and that rather early.