The Yellow Rose Part 7

"And what is the mirage?"

"The mirage is the mirage of the Hortobagy."

But Ferko Lacza knew more than his master.

"The mirage is G.o.d's miracle," he told them, "sent to keep us poor herdsmen from growing weary of the long day on the puszta."

Finally the painter turned to the doctor for an explanation. "I know even less," said he. "I have read Flammarion's book on the atmosphere, where he speaks of the Fata Morgana as seen on the African deserts, the coasts of the Arctic ocean, on the Orinoco, and in Sicily, also Humboldt and Bompland's descriptions. But learned men know nothing of the Hortobagy mirage, though it may be seen every hot summer's day from sunrise to sundown. Thus are Hungary's wonderful natural phenomena utterly ignored by the scientific world."

It did the doctor good to pour out the bitterness of his heart before the strangers, but he had no time to admire the marvels of nature, being obliged to hurry back to his animal hospital and pharmacy at Mata. So, bidding adieu to both his old and new friends, he jumped into his gig, and jogged away over the plain.

The herd was already scattered far out on the puszta, the cowboys driving it forward. The gra.s.s near at hand is more luscious, but in spring the cattle graze far afield, so that when summer scorches the distant pastures, the nearer still remain for them. Very touching was the farewell between the main herd and their companions in the enclosure--like a chorus of Druids and Valkyre.

The head of the stables had meanwhile been occupied with the financial side of the business and in arranging the line of march. In crisp brand new hundred florin notes he paid Mr. Sajgato, who stuffed them into his pocket so carelessly, that the manager thought it not superfluous to remind him to look after his money on the puszta. Whereupon the proud citizen of Debreczin answered phlegmatically,

"Sir, I have been plundered and deceived during the course of my existence, but never by robbers or rogues. They were always 'honourable gentlemen,' who knew how to thieve and cheat!"

The overseer likewise received his fee. "If," said the old herdsman, "I might--out of pure friendliness--give you a word of advice, I would recommend you, as you have bought the cows, to take the calves as well."

"What, we don't want a crowd of noisy brutes! Why should we take carts for them?"

"They will go on their own feet."

"Yes, and hinder us at every step, by stopping the cows to drink.

Besides, the duke's chief reason for buying this herd, is, as I know, not to experiment with pure Hungarian cattle, but to cross them with his Spanish breed."

"Of course that is quite another thing," said the overseer.

There now remained nothing else to do but to start the new bought herd.

The manager gave the herdsman his credentials, and the chief constable handed him his pa.s.s. These doc.u.ments, together with the cattle certificates, he put into his bag. Then he tied the bell round the bull's neck, knotted his cloak round its horns, and bidding everyone good day, sprang into the saddle. The overseer brought him his knapsack, filled with bacon, bread, and garlic, enough for the week that they would take to reach Miskolcz. Then he described the whole route to him.

How they must first go by Polgar, because of the mud at Csege, caused by the spring rains, and sleep on the way in the little wood. They would cross the Theiss by the ferry-boat, but should the water be high, it would be better to wait there, and give hay to the beasts rather than risk an accident.

Then he impressed on his G.o.dson the necessity of so behaving in a foreign country that Debreczin need never blush for him. "He must obey his employers, hold his high spirits in check, never forget Hungarian, nor abandon his faith, but keep all the Church feasts, and not squander his earnings. If he married he must take care of his wife, and give his children Hungarian names, and when he had time he might write a line to his G.o.dfather, who would willingly pay the postage."

Then, with a G.o.dfather's blessing, he left the young fellow to set out on his journey.

Now the two Moravian drovers had undertaken the task of driving the herd, when free from the enclosure, in the desired direction, but naturally the beasts, as soon as they were set at liberty, rushed about on all sides, and when the drovers attempted to force them, turned, and prepared to run at them. Then they again made for the corral and their calves.

"Go and help those poor Christians!" said the overseer to the herdsman.

"Better crack the whip among them," suggested the painter.

"The devil take your whip," growled the overseer; "do you want them to run to the four ends of the earth? These are no horses!"

"I said they ought to be tied together in pairs by their horns," cried the manager.

"All right, just leave it to me."

With that the cowherd whistled, and a little sheep-dog jumped from the karam, and barking loudly, scampered after the disordered herd, dashed round the scattered animals, snapped at the heels of the lazy ones, and in less than two minutes had brought the whole drove into a well-ordered military file, marching behind the bull with the bell.

Then the cowherd also bounded after them, crying "Hi, Rosa! Csako!

Kese!" He knew the name of everyone of the twenty-four, and they obeyed.

As for the bull, it was called "Buszke"--"Proud one."

Thus, under this leadership, the herd moved quietly off over the wide plain. For long the gentlemen gazed after it, till it arrived at the brink of the quivering fairy sea. Then suddenly each beast grew gigantic, more like a mammoth than a cow, jet black in colour, and with legs growing to a fearful length, until at last there appeared to be attached to them a second cow, moving along with the other, only upside down. Herdsmen, dog, drovers, all followed them head downwards.

The painter sank back on the gra.s.s, his arms and legs extended.

"Well, if I tell this at the Art Club in Vienna, they will kick me out at the door."

"A bad sign," said Mr. Sajgato, shaking his head. "It's well the money is in my pocket."

"Yes, the cattle are not home yet," muttered the overseer.

"What I wonder at," observed the manager, "is why some enterprising individual has not taken the whole show on lease."

"Ah!" said Mr. Sajgato with proud stolidity. "No doubt they would take it to Vienna if they could. But Debreczin won't give it up."

CHAPTER IV.

The veterinary and his gig jolted merrily over the puszta. His good little horse knew its lesson by heart, and needed neither whip nor bridle. So, the doctor could take out his note-book, reckon, and scribble. All at once, looking up, he noticed a csikos approaching, his horse galloping wildly.

The pace was so mad that both rider and steed seemed to be out of their minds. Suddenly the horse rushed towards him, stood still, reared, and then swerved aside, taking another direction. Its rider sat with head thrown back, and arched body, clutching the bridle in both hands, while the horse shook itself, and began to neigh and snort in a frightened manner.

Seeing this, the doctor seized whip and reins, and made every endeavour to overtake the horseman. As he got closer he recognised the csikos.

"Sandor Decsi!" he exclaimed. And the rider appeared to know him also, and to slacken the bridle as if to allow the horse to go nearer. The clever animal reached the doctor's gig, puffing and blowing, and there stopped of its own accord. It shook its head, snorted, and, in fact, did everything but speak.

The lad sat in the saddle, bent backwards, his face staring at the sky.

The bridle had dropped from his fingers, but his legs still gripped the sides of his horse.

"Sandor, lad! Sandor Decsi!" called the doctor. But the boy seemed not to hear him, or hearing, to be incapable of speech.

Jumping from his trap, the doctor went up to the rider, caught him round the waist, and lifted him out of the saddle.

"What ails you?" he said.

But the lad was silent. His mouth was shut, his neck bent back, and his breath came in quick gasps. His eyes, wide open, had a ghastly gleam, which the dilation of the pupils rendered all the more hideous.

Laying him flat on the turf, the doctor began to examine him. "Pulse irregular, sometimes quick, sometimes stopping completely, pupils widely dilated, jaws tightly closed, back curved. This young fellow has been _poisoned_!" he cried, "and with some vegetable poison, too."

The doctor had found the csikos midway between the Hortobagy inn and the little settlement at Mata. Probably he was on his way to the hamlet when the poison first began to act, and had tried as long as consciousness lasted to get there; but when the spasms seized him, his movements became involuntary, and the convulsive twitching of his arms had startled the horse. It was also foaming at the mouth.

The doctor next attempted to lift him into the gig, but the lad was too heavy, and he could not manage it. Still, to leave him on the puszta was impossible. Before he could return with help the eagles would already be there, tearing at the unfortunate man. All this time the horse looked on intelligently, as if it would speak, and, now bending its head over its master, it gave some short abrupt snorts.