I had to try back on the route I had passed, for I remembered not far in the rear a group of firs standing sentinels in the pass.  I always took care to have an end of rope in my pocket; with this I tied up my fagot, shouldered it, and returned to the house of entertainment.  The result of my trouble was a blazing fire, whereat I cooked an excellent robber-steak.  I made myself some tea, and afterwards enjoyed—­yes, actually enjoyed—­my pipe.  There is a pleasure in battling with circumstances, even in such a small affair as getting one’s dinner under difficulties.

After washing-up (by good-luck there was a stream near by), I packed up my belongings, and giving a last look around to see that I had left nothing, I departed without as much as a pourboire for “service,” one of the advantages of self-help.

The prospect for the rest of my ride was not lively, a good ten miles yet to be done on a bad road.  It had ceased to snow, but the clouds kept driving down into the valley as if the very heavens themselves were in a state of mobilisation.  It is curious to notice sometimes in the higher Carpathians how the clouds march continuously through the winding valleys; always moving and driving on, these compact masses of vapour are impelled by the currents of air in the defiles which seam the mountains.

My way was now through an interminable pine-forest, the road stretching in a perfectly straight line and at a perceptible rise.  Indeed it was uphill work altogether.  The ceaseless dripping of the rain made the whole scene as cheerless as it well could be.  The snow had turned to cold dull rain, which was far more depressing.  I wished the mineral springs at Borsek had never been discovered.  It was too late to turn back to St Miklos, where I devoutly wished myself, so I had nothing to do but plod on with my waterproof tight round me.  It was impossible to go fast, for in places the mud was very deep and the road was beset with big stones.

It was dark when I reached Borsek, and again I wished I had never come.  The inn was very uncomfortable; there was no fireplace in any of the rooms.  The baths are only used in the height of summer, and if it turns cold, as it does sometimes at this elevation, people I suppose must freeze till it gets warm again.  I had come a fortnight too late; the world of fashion departs from Borsek at the end of August.  Ten or twelve springs rise within a short area, and vary curiously in quality and temperature.  The source which is principally used for exportation is remarkable for the quantity of carbonic acid it contains.  About 12,000 bottles are filled every day; some 1500 on an average break soon after corking, owing partly to the bad quality of the bottles.  There is a glass manufactory in the place, and though they have good material they turn out the work badly.

The export trade in the mineral waters is very large.  They are much valued for long sea voyages, as the water keeps for years without losing its gaseous qualities.[21]