From Pole to Pole | Page 7

Peninsula.
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING JOURNEY FROM BERLIN TO
CONSTANTINOPLE.]
From Budapest the train takes us over the Hungarian plain, a very
singular country, like a trough, for it is surrounded by mountains on all
sides. There is abundance of rain, especially up on the mountain slopes.
The winter is cold and the summer warm, as is always the case in
countries far removed from the sea. Dust and sand storms are common,
and in some parts blown sand collects into dunes. Formerly the
Hungarian lowland was a fertile steppe, where Magyar nomads roamed
about on horseback and tended their cattle and their enormous flocks of
sheep. But now agriculture is extended more and more. Wheat, rye,
barley, maize, rice, potatoes, and wine are produced in such quantities
that they are not only sufficient for the country's needs, but also
maintain a considerable export trade. Round the villages and
homesteads grow oaks, elms, lime-trees, and beeches; poplars and
willows are widely distributed, for their light seeds are carried long
distances by the wind. But in the large steppe districts where marshes
are so common the people have no other fuel but reeds and dried dung.
Cattle-raising has always been an important occupation in Hungary.

The breed of cows, oxen, and buffaloes is continually being improved
by judicious selection, and all kinds of sheep, goats, and pigs are kept
in great numbers, while the rearing of fowls, bee-keeping, the
production of silk from silkworms, and the fishing industry are also
highly developed. To the nomads, who wander from one locality to
another with their herds, horses are necessary, and it is therefore quite
natural that Hungary should be rich in horses--splendid animals of
mixed Tatar and Arabian blood.
This country, where all wealth grows and thrives, and where the land,
well and uniformly watered, contributes in such a high degree to the
well-being of man, is flat and monotonous when viewed from the train.
We see herds with their mounted herdsmen, we see villages, roads and
cottages, but these do not give us any very clear conception of the
country. Therefore it is advisable to spend a few hours in the
agricultural exhibition at Budapest, where we can see the most
attractive models illustrating Hungarian rural life, from pastures and
farmyards to churned butter and manufactured cheeses, from the
silk-worm in the chrysalis to the valuable silken web. We can see the
life of farmers in the country homesteads, in simple reed huts or tents,
the various crops they grow on their fields, the yellow honeycombs
taken from the hives in autumn, tanned leather and the straps, saddles,
and trunks that are made of it. We can see the weapons, implements,
and spoil of the Hungarian hunter and fisherman, and when we come
out of the last room we realise that this country is wisely and
affectionately nursed by its people, and therefore gives profit and
prosperity in exchange.
With unabated speed the train rushes on over the plain, and at length
rattles across a bridge over the Danube into Belgrade, the capital of
Servia. Here we bid good-bye to the Danube and follow the Morava
valley upwards. The Servian villages of low white houses, with
pyramidal roofs of tiles or thatch, are very pretty and picturesquely
built; and above them, green heights, wooded slopes, flocks and herds,
and peasants in bright-coloured motley clothes following the plough.
Small murmuring brooks dance in merry leaps down to the Morava,
and the Morava itself flows to the Danube. We are still in the drainage

basin of this river, and, when we have crossed the whole of Servia,
passed over a flat mountain ridge and left Sofia, the capital of Bulgaria,
behind us and have come to another stream, even this is one of the
affluents of the Danube.
During a large part of our journey we are therefore strongly impressed
by this mighty stream, and perceive that it is a condition of existence to
whole peoples and States. Innumerable boats navigate its channel--from
rowing-boats, ferries, and barges to steamers of heavy freight. They
maintain communication between the series of towns with walls and
houses reflected in the gliding water. Their wharves are frequently in
connection with trains; and many railways have been built with an eye
to the traffic on the Danube. In early times, when the migrations of
people from the east streamed over Europe, the Danube valley was
generally utilized; and still at the present day the river affords an
advantageous channel of communication between the western and
eastern parts of the Continent.
Night jealously conceals from our eyes the kingdom of Bulgaria, as we
travel through its southern part along the river Maritza, which flows
southwards. We do not leave its valley until we are beyond the Turkish
frontier and Adrianople. Here we