1 16 M. Beudant's Travels in Hungary. 



marsh, from a number of little streams descending from the moun- 

 tains of Transylvania, that sllpentine, in a thousand directions, 

 and leave stagnant waters on their banks. In this part, however, 

 the lands that are under cultivation have been successively gained 

 from the marshes ; and the soil, consisting partly of vegetable 

 and animal remains, is remarkably fertile, so as to become, in some 

 measure, a granary for the rest of the country. The land is black, 

 and very dense ; and the cereal plants, (grain generally,) yield 

 20 and 30 for 1. This is not the case to the right of the Theysse ; 

 in the part of the plain between that river and the Danube, most 

 of the lands that are not inundated, produce only heath and 

 brambles, and have an aspect of extreme aridity. The plains of 

 Kekskemet are covered with white and moveable sands, which 

 the winds raise and transport like clouds, to great distances. It 

 is certain, however, that a vast extent of meadow and arable 

 land, by draining the marshes, on a soil rilled with tine mud and 

 organic remains, might be reclaimed with infinite advantage. 



Besides the arable lands, which produce in excessive abun- 

 dance corn, maize, millet, &c. ; besides the marshy lands in use 

 for the culture of rice ; there are vast pastures in these plains, 

 comprehending about 90,000 French acres, where numberless 

 herds of horned cattle and horses are fed. Winter and summer 

 they remain in the plains, abandoned as it were to chance, but 

 t-nti usted to the care of a few herdsmen, each of whom may have 

 from 12 to 1500 under his care. In summer the cattle are expo- 

 sed to the violent heats that dry up all the plain, and when the 

 winter approaches, they have no shelter against rain, cold, and 

 tempests ; hence, from accidental circumstances, a great number 

 of them sometimes perish. Sad examples are quoted, wherein 

 the loss has amounted to 50, 6*0, and 80,000 head of cattle in a 

 single night. 



The herdsman, assimilated to the animals that he superintends, 

 is in a very little better situation. With no other shelter than his 

 bunda, or mantle of sheep-skin, he must also, night and day, 

 summer and winter, brave all weathers, not having the resource 

 of the mountain shepherds, of digging holes in the sides of the 

 hills for shelter, in a rainy season. Hut these guardians, as rude 

 and savage as the animals among which they dwell, seem to make 

 little account of circumstances that would be intolerable to 

 others. Their tanned complexion, mustachios, ill-combed beard, 

 hair hanging down, and rustic accoutrements, with a hatchet con- 

 stantly in their hands, altogether form figures not very agreeable 

 to the eye, and hardly to be surveyed without apprehension. A 

 frightful air of filth must be taken into the account, and often a 

 nauseating smell of fat, from a custom they have of greasing their 

 bodies, and plastering their shirts with grease, to keep them, they 



