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With
some
difficulty
,
I
got
a
fellow
passenger
to
tell
me
what
they
meant
.
He
would
not
answer
at
first
,
but
on
learning
that
I
was
English
,
he
explained
that
it
was
a
charm
or
guard
against
the
evil
eye
.
This
was
not
very
pleasant
for
me
,
just
starting
for
an
unknown
place
to
meet
an
unknown
man
.
But
everyone
seemed
so
kind-hearted
,
and
so
sorrowful
,
and
so
sympathetic
that
I
could
not
but
be
touched
.
I
shall
never
forget
the
last
glimpse
which
I
had
of
the
inn
yard
and
its
crowd
of
picturesque
figures
,
all
crossing
themselves
,
as
they
stood
round
the
wide
archway
,
with
its
background
of
rich
foliage
of
oleander
and
orange
trees
in
green
tubs
clustered
in
the
centre
of
the
yard
.
Then
our
driver
,
whose
wide
linen
drawers
covered
the
whole
front
of
the
boxseat
--
"
gotza
"
they
call
them
--
cracked
his
big
whip
over
his
four
small
horses
,
which
ran
abreast
,
and
we
set
off
on
our
journey
.
I
soon
lost
sight
and
recollection
of
ghostly
fears
in
the
beauty
of
the
scene
as
we
drove
along
,
although
had
I
known
the
language
,
or
rather
languages
,
which
my
fellow-passengers
were
speaking
,
I
might
not
have
been
able
to
throw
them
off
so
easily
.
Before
us
lay
a
green
sloping
land
full
of
forests
and
woods
,
with
here
and
there
steep
hills
,
crowned
with
clumps
of
trees
or
with
farmhouses
,
the
blank
gable
end
to
the
road
.
There
was
everywhere
a
bewildering
mass
of
fruit
blossom
--
apple
,
plum
,
pear
,
cherry
.
And
as
we
drove
by
I
could
see
the
green
grass
under
the
trees
spangled
with
the
fallen
petals
.
In
and
out
amongst
these
green
hills
of
what
they
call
here
the
"
Mittel
Land
"
ran
the
road
,
losing
itself
as
it
swept
round
the
grassy
curve
,
or
was
shut
out
by
the
straggling
ends
of
pine
woods
,
which
here
and
there
ran
down
the
hillsides
like
tongues
of
flame
.
The
road
was
rugged
,
but
still
we
seemed
to
fly
over
it
with
a
feverish
haste
.
I
could
not
understand
then
what
the
haste
meant
,
but
the
driver
was
evidently
bent
on
losing
no
time
in
reaching
Borgo
Prund
.
I
was
told
that
this
road
is
in
summertime
excellent
,
but
that
it
had
not
yet
been
put
in
order
after
the
winter
snows
.
In
this
respect
it
is
different
from
the
general
run
of
roads
in
the
Carpathians
,
for
it
is
an
old
tradition
that
they
are
not
to
be
kept
in
too
good
order
.
Of
old
the
Hospadars
would
not
repair
them
,
lest
the
Turk
should
think
that
they
were
preparing
to
bring
in
foreign
troops
,
and
so
hasten
the
war
which
was
always
really
at
loading
point
.
Beyond
the
green
swelling
hills
of
the
Mittel
Land
rose
mighty
slopes
of
forest
up
to
the
lofty
steeps
of
the
Carpathians
themselves
.
Right
and
left
of
us
they
towered
,
with
the
afternoon
sun
falling
full
upon
them
and
bringing
out
all
the
glorious
colours
of
this
beautiful
range
,
deep
blue
and
purple
in
the
shadows
of
the
peaks
,
green
and
brown
where
grass
and
rock
mingled
,
and
an
endless
perspective
of
jagged
rock
and
pointed
crags
,
till
these
were
themselves
lost
in
the
distance
,
where
the
snowy
peaks
rose
grandly
.
Here
and
there
seemed
mighty
rifts
in
the
mountains
,
through
which
,
as
the
sun
began
to
sink
,
we
saw
now
and
again
the
white
gleam
of
falling
water
.
One
of
my
companions
touched
my
arm
as
we
swept
round
the
base
of
a
hill
and
opened
up
the
lofty
,
snow-covered
peak
of
a
mountain
,
which
seemed
,
as
we
wound
on
our
serpentine
way
,
to
be
right
before
us
.
"
Look
!
Isten
szek
!
"
--
"
God
's
seat
!
"
--
and
he
crossed
himself
reverently
.
As
we
wound
on
our
endless
way
,
and
the
sun
sank
lower
and
lower
behind
us
,
the
shadows
of
the
evening
began
to
creep
round
us
.
This
was
emphasized
by
the
fact
that
the
snowy
mountain-top
still
held
the
sunset
,
and
seemed
to
glow
out
with
a
delicate
cool
pink
.
Here
and
there
we
passed
Cszeks
and
slovaks
,
all
in
picturesque
attire
,
but
I
noticed
that
goitre
was
painfully
prevalent
.
By
the
roadside
were
many
crosses
,
and
as
we
swept
by
,
my
companions
all
crossed
themselves
.
Here
and
there
was
a
peasant
man
or
woman
kneeling
before
a
shrine
,
who
did
not
even
turn
round
as
we
approached
,
but
seemed
in
the
self-surrender
of
devotion
to
have
neither
eyes
nor
ears
for
the
outer
world
.
There
were
many
things
new
to
me
.
For
instance
,
hay-ricks
in
the
trees
,
and
here
and
there
very
beautiful
masses
of
weeping
birch
,
their
white
stems
shining
like
silver
through
the
delicate
green
of
the
leaves
.
Now
and
again
we
passed
a
leiter-wagon
--
the
ordinary
peasants
's
cart
--
with
its
long
,
snakelike
vertebra
,
calculated
to
suit
the
inequalities
of
the
road
.
On
this
were
sure
to
be
seated
quite
a
group
of
homecoming
peasants
,
the
Cszeks
with
their
white
,
and
the
Slovaks
with
their
coloured
sheepskins
,
the
latter
carrying
lance-fashion
their
long
staves
,
with
axe
at
end
.
