From Belgrade to Basiasch, the scenery of the Danube is much like that above the mouth of the Save. At Basiasch, the railway from Pesth and Vienna reaches the river, and we took on board several passengers who had come by rail from those cities. The quick route from Vienna to Constantinople is by this railway, but it is a dreary ride, and, unless one is in a hurry, he had better stick to the river. our journey at daybreak, but I was up before the call, and out on deck.
We were to be transferred, and were transferred, to another boat, an odd-looking affair with powerful machinery, and with two wheels on each side. Her steering-wheel was astern, directly over the rudder, and though she was small she required all the strength of two men to control her.
On such a boat we left Moldowa, just as day broke in the east, and steamed down the river with the rapidity of a railway train. The banks seemed to be flying past us, or we flying past them, and the spray was dashed quite over the boat, drenching the deck passengers who were huddled forward and by no means leaving dry the erste classe astern. The blush on the eastern horizon extended, and as daylight became clear and full we entered the mountains, and were among the boiling rapids which mark this part of the Danube in the season of low water.
On the right bank appeared the wonderful fortress of Galumbutz, built by Maria Theresa. Out of the river rises a pyramid of rocks, and from base to summit this pyramid is covered with towers and walls, and pierced with windows and port-holes. The foundations of the fortress were Roman, and the tradition is that Trojan Helen was once imprisoned there. Almost in face of this fortress is the famous cave known as the Muckenhole, whence came a species of mosquitoes that annually kill thousands of cattle along this portion of the Danube valley. There is a legend that they arise from the putrefaction of the dragon killed by St. George; they issue from the cave in clouds, and extend their ravages more than a hundred miles in every direction. The government walled up the entrance of the cave in the hope of destroying the pest, but without success; the probability is that the insect inhabits the entire country, and only goes to the cave in bad weather.
The river makes many bends and zig-zags, and at times we went unpleasantly near the rocks. The scenery in this part is wild, and the land generally too rough for cultivation. Along the left bank there is an excellent road, which extends from Moldowa to Orsona, the frontier town of Austro-Hungary, and keeps constantly on the river bank. On the opposite shore there are traces of a Roman road cut into the mountain side, but evidently never completed.
Two hours on this four-wheeled steamer brought us to Drenkova, where we landed and were consigned to carriages and carts. The first-class passengers had carriages that were reasonably comfortable, as they had stuffed seats, and backs to lean against, but the others were thrust into arabas or common carts, some of them having straw to sit upon, some rough seats without backs, and some neither straw nor seats. Sometimes the “araba” is drawn by horses, and sometimes by oxen; in Turkey it is generally drawn by oxen, with an arrangement swinging over their backs to keep away the flies, and the cart has in hot or wet weather an awning over it to protect the travelers. In the present instance we had horses and a driver, the latter a native of the country, and black enough to be half Indian and half negro. He was amiable and anxious to please us, and we got up quite a conversation of signs, as we had not a single word in common. I tried him in English, French, German, Russian, and Italian, and he tried me in Moldavian, all to no purpose. What an inconvenience you find in this thing of languages. Wouldn’t I like to twist the neck of the fellow who proposed to build the Tower of Babel?
The Danube was at its lowest, otherwise we should have saved this land travel, and could have passed the upper Iron Gate by water. As it was, we looked upon the rapids and whirlpools, and on the rocks scattered here and there in the channel, and were not altogether sorry to be on land. At one place the channel for boats is only seventy feet wide at low water, and the current is very swift. The name Iron Gate comes from the Turkish, Demi-Kapour, and is intended to mean a hindrance to navigation, rather than a narrow passage barred with a formidable door. The right bank in this locality is simply magnificent. The mountains are steep and rugged, their summits covered with trees, and their sides presenting enormous masses of grey rocks, capriciously veined with red porphyry, and here and there showing deep crevices that appear to be the mouths of caverns.
After three hours of this sort of travel we were transferred to a small steamer where we managed to get an apology for dinner, and where, when the little cabin was full of men and women, a Hungarian passenger with an enormous mustache and a loud voice opened his valise, removed his coat and vest, and coolly proceeded to change his shirt.
He was not at all abashed to display his back and shoulders to the party, but went on with his toilet very much as if in a room by himself.