Of the Servian swineherd we have heard something of late, both in
history and romance; because this was the vocation of Kara George, the
Servian Liberator. In Hungary the swine-keeper does not seem to be so
respectable a person. Here is a sketch of him from Max Schlesinger's
new book on the Hungarian war:
"The Kanasz is a swineherd, whose occupation, everywhere unpoetical
and dirty, is doubly troublesome and dirty in Hungary. Large droves
of pigs migrate annually into the latter country from Serbia, where
they still live in a half-wild state. In Hungary they fatten in the
extensive oak-forests, and are sent to market in the large towns, even
to Vienna, and still further....
"It is a true enjoyment to live in these shady forests. The oak
attains a finer and more luxuriant growth on the Hungarian soil than
in any part of Germany. The hogs find food in profusion, and commonly
stuff themselves to such a degree that they lose all desire for roving
about: so that dog, master, and ass, lead a comparatively easy life,
and are left to the quiet enjoyment of nature. But the lot of the
Kanasz is a pitiable one when, at the close of summer, he has to
drive his swine to market. From Debreczin, nay even from the Serbian
frontier, he has to make a journey on foot more toilsome than was ever
undertaken by the most adventurous traveler, pacing slowly over the
interminable heaths in rain, storm, or under a burning sun, behind
his pigs, which drive into his face hot clouds of dust. Every now and
then a hog has stuffed itself so full as to be unable to stir from the
spot; and there it lies on the road without moving, whilst the whole
caravan is obliged to wait for half a day or longer, until the glutted
animal can get on his legs again; and when at length this feat is
accomplished, frequently his neighbor begins the same trick. There
is truly not a more toilsome business in the wide world than that of
a Kanasz.... The fokos is a hatchet, with a long handle, which the
Kanasz hurls with great dexterity. Whenever he desires to pick out
and slaughter one of his hogs, either for his own use or for sale,
the attempt would be attended with danger, in the half-savage state
of these animals, without such a weapon. The fokos here assists him;
which he flings with such force and precision, that the sharp iron
strikes exactly into the center of the frontal bone of the animal
he has marked out; the victim sinks on the earth without uttering a
sound, and the drove quietly proceeds on its way. That he can strike
down a man with equal precision at eighty to a hundred paces, is
proved by the gallows at the entrance of the forest--the three-legged
monument of his dexterity. During recent events, too, the surgeons
of the Austrian army will readily furnish the Kanasz and Csikos with
certificates of their ability and skill."
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