Round About the Carpathians | Page 3

Andrew F. Crosse
till the evening. I did not at all enjoy the prospect of knocking about the whole day amongst coal-sheds and unfinished houses, with the alternative refuge of the inn, which was swarming with flies and redolent of many evil smells; so I thought I would find some conveyance and drive over, for the distance was not great. If there is anything I hate, it is waiting the livelong day for a railway train.
There chanced to be an intelligent native close by who divined my thoughts, for I had certainly not uttered them; he came up, touched me on the arm, and pointed round the corner. Notwithstanding the intense heat of the day, the Wallack, for such he was, wore an enormous sheepskin cloak with the wool outside, as though ready for an Arctic winter. I followed him a few steps to see what he wanted me to look at; the movement was quite enough, he regarded it evidently in the light of ready assent, and in the twinkling of an eye he possessed himself of my portmanteau and other belongings, motioned me to follow him, which I did, and then found that my Heaven-sent friend had a machine for hire.
I call it a machine, because it was not like anything on wheels I had seen before: later on I became familiar enough with the carts of the country; they are long-bodied, rough constructions, wonderfully adapted to the uneven roads. In this case there were four horses abreast, which sounds imposing, as any four-in-hand must always do.
I now asked the Wallack in German if he could drive me to Oravicza, for I saw he had made up his mind to drive me somewhere. To my relief I found he could speak German, at all events a few words. He replied he could drive the "high and nobly born Excellency" there in four hours. The time was one thing, but the charge was quite another affair. His demand was so outrageous that I supposed it was an implied compliment to my exalted rank: certainly it had no adequate reference to the services offered. The fellow asked enough to buy the whole concern outright--cart and four horses! They were the smallest horses I almost ever saw, and were further reduced by the nearest shave of being absolute skeletons; the narrow line between sustaining life and actual starvation must have been nicely calculated.
We now entered upon the bargaining phase, a process which threatened to last some time; all the stragglers in the place assisted at the conference, taking a patriotic interest in their own countryman. The matter was finally adjusted by the Wallack agreeing to take a sixth part of the original sum.
Seated on a bundle of hay, with my things around me, I was now quite ready for the start, but the driver had a great many last words with the public, which the interest in our proceedings had gathered about us. Presently with an air of triumph he took his seat, gave a loud crack or two with his whip, and off we started at a good swinging trot, just to show what his team could accomplish.
We took the road to Weisskirchen, leaving the Danube in the rear. The country was fairly pretty, but nothing remarkable; fine scenery under the circumstances would have been quite superfluous, for the dust was two feet deep in the road, and the heels of four horses scampering along raised such a cloud of it that we could see next to nothing.
We had not proceeded far when the speed sensibly relaxed; I fancy the horses went slower that they might listen to what the driver had to say, he talked to them the whole time. He was not communicative to me; his knowledge of German seemed limited to the bargaining process, a lesson often repeated, I suspect. As time wore on the heat became almost tropical; as for the dust, I felt as if I had swallowed a sandbank, and was joyful at the near prospect of quenching my thirst at Weisskirchen, now visible in the distance.
Hungarian towns look like overgrown villages that have never made up their minds seriously to become towns. The houses are mostly of one story, standing each one alone, with the gable-end, blank and windowless, towards the road. This is probably a relic of Orientalism.
Getting up full speed as we approached the town, we clattered noisily over the crown of the causeway, and suddenly making a sharp turn, found ourselves in the courtyard of the inn.
I inquired how long we were to remain here; "A small half-hour," was the driver's answer. This was my first experience of a Wallack's idea of time, if indeed they have any ideas on the subject beyond the rising and the setting of the sun.
I strolled about
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 104
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.