The chief pride of my outfit was a cooking-apparatus, the last thing out, which merits a few words of description.  It consisted of a round tin box, eight inches in diameter, capable of boiling three pints of water in two minutes and a half; of its own self-consciousness, the sauce-pan could evolve into a frying-pan, besides other adaptations, including space for a Russian lamp—­a vessel holding spirit—­with cellular cavities for salt, pepper, matches, not forgetting cup, spoon, and plate.  The Russian lamp is a very useful contrivance, in case of open-air cooking; it gives a flame six or seven inches long, which is not easily affected by wind or draught.

Amongst the stores I took out from England was some “compressed tea,” which is very portable.  In riding, all powdery substances should be avoided; I had on one occasion practical experience of this.  I had procured some horse-medicine, and giving my animal one dose, I packed the rest very carefully, as I thought; on opening my saddle-bag after a ride of twenty miles, I found, to my disgust, that this wretched white powder had mixed itself up with everything.  I wished I had made the horse his own medicine-chest, and given him his three doses at once.

Let the weather be ever so warm in Hungary, it is not wise to take even a day’s ride without a good warm plaid; the changes of temperature are often very sudden, and herein is the danger of fever.  The peasant says, “In summer take thy bunda (fur cloak).”

To complete the catalogue of my travelling appendages, I may mention a revolver, a bowie-knife, a compass, good maps of the country, and a flask.  My flask held exactly a bottle of wine; it was covered with thick felt, which on being soaked in water has the effect of keeping the wine quite cool for an incredibly long time, even in the hottest weather.  I have been told that the Arabs in the desert have long been up to this dodge with respect to their water-bottles, which are suffered to leak a little to keep up the evaporation.  The food I carried was of course renewed from time to time, according to circumstances.  Naturally I economised the lamp spirit whenever I could obtain sticks for boiling the water, as the spirit could not always be procured in the Hungarian villages.

In starting for Dognacska and Reschitza, we had before us a ride of more than thirty miles through a very rough country, and with uncertain prospects of accommodation, so I took with me all my travelling “contraptions,” as they say in the west of England.  The weather was excessively hot the morning H——­ and I started on our expedition.  About noon, after we had ridden some two hours, the sun’s rays beat down upon us with such force that we made an unintentional halt on coming to a well by the wayside.  It was one of those picturesque wells so familiar in Eastern landscape—­a beam balanced on a lofty pole, with a rod hanging from one end, to which is attached the bucket for drawing water.