The Hatszeg Valley, which comprehends the district I am now describing, is the pride of Transylvania, not less for its fertility than for its beauty.  It has the appearance of having been filled in former geological ages by the waters of a widespread lake.

It was a lovely afternoon, but very hot, when I rode into the little town of Hatszeg.  Everywhere is to be seen evidence of the careful cultivation of the maize and other crops.  Numerous villages dot the plain and cluster amidst the thickly-wooded hillsides.  And now we come upon the railway system again, which has stretched out its feelers into the wilds of the Southern Carpathians.  The railroad enters Transylvania by two routes.  The main line is from Buda-Pest to Grosswardein, and so on by Klausenburg—­the Magyar capital—­to the present terminus of Kronstadt, one of the chief towns of the Saxon immigrants.  This includes a branch to Maros Vasarhely.  It is proposed to carry this line over a pass in the Carpathians to Bucharest.  The second line of railway entering Transylvania starts from Arad, and terminates at Herrmannstadt, the Saxon capital, having a branch to the mineral district of Petroseny.

It will be seen from the above that this “odd corner of Europe,” as Transylvania has been called, is fairly well off for iron roads; and considering how short a time some portions of them have been opened, they have already borne good fruit in developing the resources of the country.

[Footnote 12:  Martin Diosy, Esq.]

CHAPTER XIII.

Hungarian hospitality—­Wallack laziness—­Fishing—­“Settled gipsies”—­Anecdote—­Old regime—­Fire—­Old Roman bath—­The avifauna of Transylvania—­Fly-fishing.

I had brought with me from London a letter of introduction to a Hungarian gentleman residing near Hatszeg, and finding his place was not far off, I rode over to see him the evening of my arrival.

I had merely intended to make a call, but Herr von B——­, with true Hungarian hospitality, insisted that I should stay at his house as long as I remained in the neighbourhood.

“What! allow a stranger to remain at the inn?—­impossible!” he said with resolute kindness.

It was in vain that I made any attempt to plead that I felt it was trespassing too much on his hospitality.  His answer was very decided.  He put the key of the stable which held my horse in his pocket, and turning to one of his people he gave orders that my things should be brought hither from the Hatszeg inn.

I was soon quite at home with my new friends, a young married couple, whose menage, though very simple, was thoroughly refined and agreeable.  As it was my first visit to a Hungarian house, I found many things to interest me.  Several of the dishes at table were novelties, the variety consisting more in the cooking than in the materials; for instance, we had maize dressed in a dozen different ways.  It was generally eaten as a sort of pudding at breakfast, at which meal there was also an unfailing dish of water-melons.  Of course we had paprika handl (chicken with red pepper), and gulyas, a sort of improved Irish stew; and gipsy’s meat, also very good, besides excellent soups and many nameless delicacies in the way of sweets.