We had ten miles of as bad a road as any I had yet seen in my travels.  The mud in some places was two feet deep.  We followed the windings of a stream called the Putna Patak, and came presently to a wayside inn frequented by foresters.  Here we made a short halt, got a bottle of decent wine and a crust of bread.  Immediately on quitting this place we turned into a less frequented path, and began a stiffish ascent.  It was a superb day, and I enjoyed it immensely, not having been much favoured by weather lately.  Our route was through a thick forest, the trees, as usual in these, magnificent, with their gigantic girth, and widespreading branches.  At times I got a glimpse of the snowy mountain summits standing out against the intensely blue sky.

At mid-day I told the guide to look out for the next spring, for there we would dine.  We did not find a spring for some time, at least not by the wayside, and I was reluctant to lose time by wandering about.  At length when we had secured a water-tap—­viz., a little trickling rill flowing between some stones and spongy moss—­we found ourselves in a difficulty about the fire.  There was plenty of wood, but it was all soaking wet and would not burn.  Luckily a fir-tree was spied out, which provided us with a good quantity of turpentine, and with this we persuaded the fire to blaze up a bit.  We cooked the dinner, had a smoke, a short rest, and then en avant—­always through the forest.

Later in the afternoon, emerging from the wood, we came upon a grassy plateau which commanded a glorious view of the Transylvanian side of the Carpathians.  I was glad to see the familiar valley of Gyergyo away westward, with its numerous villages and green pasturage.  The same physical peculiarity pervades the whole of Hungary.  Whenever you get a vale of any extent, it is as flat as if it were a bit of the great plain.  Everywhere you have the impression that formerly the waters of a lake must have covered the level verdure of the valley.  As soon as I caught sight of St Miklos I dismissed my guide, for his services were no longer required, and I could get on quicker without him.  I had still a long distance to go, for I was not far below the summit.  I was extremely anxious to get into safe quarters before dark, so I made the best of the way, leading my horse down the steep bits, and mounting again for a short trot where it was possible.

On arriving at the house of my Armenian friends at St Miklos, happily before sundown, I was greatly disappointed to find that there would be no bear-hunt the next day.  Those detestable robbers had turned up again, and the people who were to have formed part of the sporting expedition were obliged to go robber-hunting, a sport not much to their taste I fancy.

It appeared that the fellows had entered an out-of-the-way inn, or rather wine-shop, and boldly ordered the owner to procure for them a certain amount of gunpowder, which they required should be ready for them the next day, and failing to carry out their orders, they threatened to shoot him.  He was obliged to promise, for there were five of them, and except women he was alone in the house.  They drank a quantity of his wine, and asked for no reckoning, saying they would pay for it the next day along with the gunpowder.