e of the dwelling a space
enclosed by stockades some ten feet high; this is a necessary protection
for their animals against the depredations of wolves and bears, which
abound here.

Leaving this village we continued our way through the Cserna Valley,
which has few signs of cultivation beyond the orchards and vineyards
that climb up the hillsides of the narrow ravine. On our left we passed
a ruined aqueduct of Turkish origin, eleven arches still remaining. As
we proceeded, the valley narrowed considerably, and the scenery became
more wild and striking. Here vegetation is in its richest profusion; the
parasitical plants are surpassingly graceful, wreathing themselves over
rocks and trees.

Mehadia, or more strictly, Hercules-Bad, is the most fashionable bath in
Hungary. The village of Mehedia must not be confounded with it, for it
lies at a distance of six miles thence. The situation of Hercules-Bad is
extremely romantic. Above the narrow rocky valley rise bare limestone
peaks, girdled with rich forests of every variety of foliage. There are
two kinds of springs, the sulphurous and the saline. The Hercules source
bursts out from a cleft of the rock in such an immense volume that it is
said to yield 5000 cubic feet in an hour. The water has to be cooled
before it is used, the natural heat being as much as 131 deg. Fahrenheit.
Its efficacy is said to be so great that the patient while in the bath
"feels the evil being boiled out of him"! Some of the visitors had not
yet had their turn of cooking, I suppose, or if they had been boiled,
were rather underdone, for I met a good many gouty and rheumatic
patients still in the hobbling condition.

The country round Mehadia is so wild, both in regard to the scenery and
to the native population, that the contrast of dropping suddenly into a
fashionable watering-place is very curious. This bath is much frequented
for pleasure and health by the luxury-loving Roumanians, who invariably
display the latest extravagance of Parisian fashion. Men in
patent-leather boots devoted to cards and billiards, while in the
immediate neighbourhood of glorious scenery, with bear and chamois
shooting to be had for the asking, seem to me "an unknown species," as
Voltaire said of the English. From what I learned of the ways of the
place it seems that the Magyar and Transylvanian visitors keep quite
aloof from the Roumanian coterie; they have never anything pleasant to
say of one another. At Boseg, a