Sometimes a peasant man or woman was kneeling before a shrine. These people did not even turn round as we approached, but seemed to have neither eyes nor ears for the world around them. There were many things new to me. For instance, there were hay-ricks in the trees, and here and there were very beautiful groups of weeping birch trees, their white trunks shining like silver through the delicate green of the leaves.

Now and again we passed a leiter-wagon - which is the name for the the ordinary peasants's cart, a vehicle designed for the bumps and slopes of the road. Each of these carts carried a group of peasants going to their homes, the Cszeks dressed in white, and the Slovaks with their coloured sheepskins, the Slovaks carrying their long staves, with axes on the end as though they were lances.

Sometimes the hills were so steep that, despite our driver's haste, the horses could only go slowly. I wanted to get down and walk up the hills, as we do at home, but the driver would not let me. "No, no," he said. "You must not walk here. The dogs are too fierce." And then he looked round to let the others see that he was about to make a dark joke, and he said - "You may have enough of things like that before you go to sleep." The only time he would stop the coach was a moment's pause to light the lamps.