Round About the Carpathians

by Andrew F. Crosse

We made a small fire inside the hut, essaying thereby to dry some of our things. My socks were soaking; my boots, I found, had a considerable storage of water; the only dry thing was my throat, made dry by swallowing the wood-smoke. A more complete transformation scene could hardly be imagined than our present woeful guise compared with the merriment of the supper-table, where all was song and jollity.

A German, who was sitting on the same log with myself, looking the picture of misery, had been one of the most jovial songsters of the evening.

"Thousand devils!" said he, "you could wring me like a rag. This abominable hut is a sponge—a mere reservoir of water."

"Oh, well, it is all part of the fun," said I, turning the water out of my boots, and proceeding to toast my socks by the fire on the thorns of a twig. "Suppose we sing a song. What shall it be?—'The meeting of the waters'?"

I had intended a mild joke, but the Teuton relapsed into grim silence.

The storm after a while appeared to be rolling off. The thunder-claps were not so immediately over our heads, and the flashes of lightning were less frequent; in fact a perfect lull existed for a short space of time, marking the passage probably to an oppositely electrified zone of the thunder-cloud. During this brief lull we were startled by hearing all at once a frightful yelling from the quarter where the Wallacks were camping, a little higher up than our hut.

Amidst the general hullabaloo of dogs barking and men shouting we at last distinguished the cry of "Ursa, ursa!" which is Wallachian for bear. Our camp became the scene of the most tremendous excitement; everybody rushed out, but in the thick darkness it was impossible to pursue the bear. The more experienced sportsmen were not so eager to sally out after the bear, as they were anxious to prevent a stampede of the horses. When the latter were secured as well as circumstances would permit, a few guns were fired off to warn the bear, and then there was nothing for it but to watch and wait. The dogs went on barking for more than an hour, but otherwise the camp relapsed into stillness. I spent the remainder of the night sitting on a log before the fire, smoking my pipe with the bowl downwards, for the rain had never ceased, and clouds of steam rose from our camp-fires. The fear was that the powder would get wet. I must have dropped off my perch asleep, for I picked myself up the next morning out of a pool of water. It was already dawn, and looking eastward I saw a streak of light beneath a dark curtain of cloud, like the gleam on the edge of a sword, so sharp and defined was it. This was hopeful; it had ceased raining too, and a brisk wind came up the valley.

There was plenty to be done, in drying our clothes and preparing breakfast under difficulties. In the midst of this bustle a Wallack came in to tell us that the bear had really got into the camp in the night, and that he had killed and partly eaten one of the horses. This confirmed the fact that the bear had been sighted by one of our party the day before; though we missed him, he had had his supper, and we were minus a horse.

I followed the Wallack a few steps up the hill, and there, not far off, on a knoll to the left, lay the carcass of the horse. It was a strange sight! Crowds of eagles, vultures, and carrion-crows were already feasting on the remains. Every moment almost, fresh birds came swooping down to their savage breakfast. Bears do not always eat flesh; but it seems when once tasted, they have a liking for it, and cease to be vegetarians. A simple-minded bear delights in maize, honey, wild apples and raspberries.

Our guns required a good deal of cleaning before we were ready to start for the second day's sport.