Bugs and Bullets by Breckinridge-Bayne Joseph;Latham Ernest;

Author:Breckinridge-Bayne, Joseph;Latham, Ernest;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Histria Books
Published: 2021-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter VIII

T

HE FAMILY of Domnișoara Protopopescu owned an estate in the extreme western part of Roumania. It was situated near the little village of Cloșani in the midst of the Carpathian Mountains. She suggested that, if we could get permission to travel, it might be nice if we spent our vacation there.

As Cloșani was beyond the limits of German military supervision, we were only able to secure permission to travel as far as Turnu-Severin. At this point we were required to report our arrival to the local police and make the usual weekly report thereafter.

Before getting our train tickets we were required to go to a bureau to be examined for lice. After our examination, each of us was presented with a card called an Entlausenschein, which said, “...ist vorschriftsmässig entlaust und frei von Ansteckung der Krankheiten,” meaning we were not buggy.

Our party consisted of Domnișoare Protopopescu and Puricescu, Mr. Cullis, Proca, Smith, and myself.

After a long tiresome trip, we arrived at Turnu-Severin and reported to the police. They refused us permission to continue on to Cloșani, but we decided we would make the attempt anyway.

After searching around, we found a horse and light wagon, which we rented, and early the following morning starting on our journey into the mountains. Our road followed a mountain stream which ran through a narrow valley with rugged mountains on either side. It was not until late that evening that the valley began to open up. Finally, we came to a great wide expanse, and there before us lay the grandeur of the great Carpathians bathed in a glorious sunset. Straight ahead was the high peak of Piatra Alt, and to our left ran another valley disappearing in the purple gloom of the distance. This was the Lupshire, meaning the way of the wolves, and amid this scene of great beauty we were to stay, for just ahead was a little knoll, on which stood the house that was to be our home.

After the life we had just left, there was something rather startling in the quiet and peace of all this. Surely the past could not have been possible; it must have all been a dream that men could have stooped to those desecrations of hatred and destruction that were engulfing the world.

Well here we were and we intended forgetting the past and making the most of our vacation.

Much of the history of Roumania is wrapped in the history of her mountains, for it was in their protecting embrace that the Roumanians so often sought refuge when the invading hordes of barbarians swept over the low lands. Nature had been their great teacher, as for a thousand years they had led a wandering pastoral life and from this knowledge they had molded their lives. The years have passed but the mighty mountains remain, and so do their traditions and superstitions handed down from generation to generation. Even today in the little mountain villages the life and customs are as simple as they were

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