554 FKOM NORTH POLE TO EQUATOR. 



ment — and we made rapid progress on swift horses. Here and there 

 marshy meadows, with pools and ditches, a httle thicket, large farm- 

 buildings surrounded by gnarled oaks, a hamlet, a village, but for 

 the most part treeless fields; this was the character of the district 

 through which we hastened. Larks innumerable rose singing from 

 the fields; dainty water- wagtails tripped about the roads; shrikes 

 and corn-buntings sat on every wayside hedge; brooding jackdaws 

 and starlings bustled and clamoured about their nests in the crowns 

 of the oaks; above the ponds ospreys were wheeling on the outlook 

 for fish, and graceful terns skimmed along in zigzag flight; the lap- 

 wing busied itself in the marshes. Apart from these, we observed 

 very few birds. Even the Keskender wood, a well-kept forest, 

 which we reached after two hours' riding, was poor in species, 

 notwithstanding its varied character. There, however, were the 

 nests of spotted-eagles and ospreys, short-toed eagles and common 

 buzzards, falcons, owls, and, above all, black storks in surprising 

 numbers, and our expedition was therefore successful beyond all 

 expectation. And yet the foresters, who, in anticipation of the 

 Crown Prince's visit, had, only a few days before, searched the 

 woods and noted the position of the various eyries on a hastily con- 

 structed map, did not know of nearly all the birds of prey and black 

 storks nesting in the forest. "It is like Paradise here," remarked 

 the Crown Prince Rudolf, and these words accurately described the 

 relations between men and animals in Hungary. Like the Oriental, 

 the Hungarian is happily not possessed by the mania for killing 

 which has caused the extreme shyness of the animals, and the pain- 

 fully evident poverty of animal life in Western Europe; he does not 

 grudge a home even to the bird of prey which settles on his land, 

 and he does not make constant and cruel raids on the animal 

 world, which lives and moves about him. Not even the low self- 

 interest which at present prompts covetous feather-dealers to make 

 yearly expeditions to the marshes of the lower Danube, and which 

 sacrifices hundreds of thousands of happy and interesting bird-lives 

 for the sake of their feathers, has had power to move the Magyar 

 from his good old customs. It may be that indifference to the 

 animal life around him has something to do with his hospitality; 



