tle of the turtle, and the four notes
of the swan, now heard only in the land of fable, for there alone
mankind is not; that kingdom still belongs to God.

Occasionally bold hunters venture to penetrate this pathless maze,
making their way among the trees in small boats, often overturned by
the long roots under the water many fathoms deep, although the dark
grass, the yellow marsh flowers and the small dark-red lizard seem to
be within reach of one's hand. Sometimes a thicket bars the way of the
boat, trees never touched by human hand are rotting here heaped
mountain-high thousands of years before. Those trunks that have
fallen into the water have been petrified, and the grasses and vines
have grown over them in such a tangle that they form a strong crust
which sways and bends but does not break beneath the tread. This crust
appears to stretch far and wide, but in reality one step too far
brings death, so that this strange and remote region is but rarely
visited.

On the south flows the Drave, whose rapid current frequently sweeps
away the tallest trees, to the peril of the boatmen. To the north the
forest stretches as far as Csakathurm, and where the swamp ends, oaks
and beeches tower higher and mightier than any in all Hungary.
Throughout this wilderness are wild beasts of every kind; especially
the wild boar that wallows in the swampy ground; and here too the stag
grows to his greatest strength and beauty. In the days that we write
of, the buffaloes roamed through this wilderness, making nightly raids
on the neighboring millet fields, but at the first attempt to catch
them they plunged into the heart of the swamp and were safe from
pursuit.

On the edge of the forest in those days stood a castle of so many
styles of architecture that one must conclude it had been the favorite
hunting-resort of some Hungarian or Croatian noble. The greater part
of the building seemed to be a century older than the rest, in fact
the oldest part was merely a hut of oak logs rudely put together, its
roof overgrown with moss and its walls with ivy and periwinkle; over
the door were the antlers of a patriarchal stag; the later lords must
have entertained a pious regard for its builder or they would have
torn down this hut. On the side toward the woods was a long, barn-like
building of one room, intended for the large hunting parties of later
times; here masters and servants, horses and hounds, staid in friendly
companionship when the b