Lippincotts Magazine, Vol. 22, August, 1878 | Page 7

of the guzla or the soft thrumming of
the rude tambourine. Little poetry as a spectacled and frosty Austrian
officer might have in his soul, that little must have been awakened by
the songs and the orchestral performances of the Tsiganes as the sun
sank low. The dusk began to creep athwart the lawn, and a cool breeze
fanned the foreheads of the listeners. When the light was all gone, these
men, as if inspired by the darkness, sometimes improvised most angelic
melody. There was never any loud or boisterous note, never any direct
appeal to the attention. I invariably forgot the singers and players, and
the music seemed a part of the harmony of Nature. While the pleasant
notes echoed in the twilight, troops of jaunty young Hungarian soldiers,
dressed in red hose, dark-green doublets and small caps sometimes
adorned with feathers, sauntered up and down the principal street; the
refugees huddled in corners and listened with delight; the Austrian
officials lumbered by, pouring clouds of smoke from their long, strong
and inevitable cigars; and the dogs forgot their perennial quarrel for a
few instants at a time.
The dogs of Orsova and of all the neighboring country have many of
the characteristics of their fellow-creatures in Turkey. Orsova is
divided into "beats," which are thoroughly and carefully patrolled night
and day by bands of dogs who recognize the limits of their domain and
severely resent intrusion. In front of the Hungarian Crown a large dog,
aided by a small yellow cur and a black spaniel mainly made up of ears
and tail, maintained order. The afternoon quiet was generally disturbed
about four o'clock by the advent of a strange canine, who, with that
expression of extreme innocence which always characterizes the animal
that knows he is doing wrong, would venture on to the forbidden
ground. A low growl in chorus from the three guardians was the
inevitable preliminary warning. The new-comer usually seemed much
surprised at this, and gave an astonished glance: then, wagging his tail
merrily, as much as to say, "Nonsense! I must have been mistaken," he
approached anew. One of the trio of guardians thereupon sallied forth
to meet him, followed by the others a little distance behind. If the

strange dog showed his teeth, assumed a defiant attitude and seemed
inclined to make his way through any number of enemies, the trio held
a consultation, which, I am bound to say, almost invariably resulted in
a fight. The intruder would either fly yelping, or would work his way
across the interdicted territory by means of a series of encounters,
accompanied by the most terrific barking, snapping and shrieking, and
by a very considerable effusion of blood. The person who should
interfere to prevent a dog-fight in Orsova would be regarded as a
lunatic. Sometimes a large white dog, accompanied by two shaggy
animals resembling wolves so closely that it was almost impossible to
believe them guardians of flocks of sheep, passed by the Hungarian
Crown unchallenged, but these were probably tried warriors whose
valor was so well known that they were no longer questioned
anywhere.
The gypsies have in their wagons or following in their train small black
dogs of temper unparalleled for ugliness. It is impossible to approach a
Tsigane tent or wagon without encountering a swarm of these
diminutive creatures, whose rage is not only amusing, but sometimes
rather appalling to contemplate. Driving rapidly by a camp one
morning in a farmer's cart drawn by two stout horses adorned with
jingling bells, I was followed by a pack of these dark-skinned animals.
The bells awoke such rage within them that they seemed insane under
its influence. As they leaped and snapped around me, I felt like some
traveller in a Russian forest pursued by hungry wolves. A dog scarcely
six inches high, and but twice as long, would spring from the ground as
if a pound of dynamite had exploded beneath him, and would make a
desperate effort to throw himself into the wagon. Another, howling in
impotent anger, would jump full at a horse's throat, would roll beneath
the feet of the team, but in some miraculous fashion would escape
unhurt, and would scramble upon a bank to try again. It was a real
relief when the discouraged pack fell away. Had I shot one of the
animals, the gypsies would have found a way to avenge the death of
their enterprising though somewhat too zealous camp-follower.
Animals everywhere on these border-lines of the Orient are treated with
much more tenderness than men and women are. The grandee who
would scowl furiously in this wild region of the Banat if the peasants

did not stand by the roadside and doff their hats in token of respect and
submission as he whirled by in