Later in my tour, when at Klausenburg, I had an opportunity of seeing an extensive dairy where upwards of a hundred buffalo cows were kept.  The farm alluded to is admirably managed, and, I am told, yields very profitable returns.

It is the opinion of Professor Wrightson that cattle are diminishing in Hungary owing to the breaking up of pastures and the recurrence of rinderpest.  He says he does not think that the English market can look to Hungary for a supply of cattle at present.  This gentleman did not, I believe, visit Transylvania, and I am inclined to think the supply from that part of the kingdom is greatly on the increase; there the pastures are not in process of being turned into arable land, and the rise in prices has given an impetus to the profitable employment of capital in raising stock.

In walking round the fair, we took notice of the horses.  I could have made a better bargain than I did in Servia.  A useful cart-horse could be bought, I found, for about six or seven pounds.  I daresay I could have picked out a few from the lot fit for riding, but of course they were rough animals, mere peasant horses.  Some of the colts, brought in a string fresh from the mountains, were wild, untamed-looking creatures; but hardly as wild as the Wallacks who led them, dressed in sheepskin, and followed each by his savage wolf-like dog.  The dogs are very formidable in Hungary.  It is never safe to take a walk, even in the environs of a town, without a revolver, on account of these savage brutes, who, faithful to their masters, are liable to make the most ferocious attacks on strangers.  This special kind of dog is in fact most useful—­to the shepherd on the lonely puszta, to the keeper of the vineyard through the night-watches, when the wild boar threatens his ravages—­and in short he acts the part of rural police generally.

In Hungary, as elsewhere, there are dogs of kindly nature and gentle culture.  I can record a curious instance of reasoning power in a dog named “Jockey,” who is well known at Buda Pest.  He has the habit of crossing over from Pest to Buda every morning of his life in one or another of the little steamboats that ply backwards and forwards.  He regularly takes his walk over there, and then returns as before by steamer.  This is his practice in summer; but when winter arrives, and the ice on the Danube stops the traffic of the steamboats, then Jockey has recourse to the bridge.  I believe there is no doubt of this anecdote.  Another instance of sagacity is attributed to him.  His master lost a lawsuit through the rascality of his attorney; Jockey feels so strongly on the subject that he snarls and growls whenever a lawyer enters his master’s house.  Here, of course, the instinct is stronger than the powers of discrimination.

[Footnote 10:  ’Report on the Agriculture of the Austro-Hungarian Empire,’ Journal of the Royal Agricultural Society, vol. x.  Part xi.  No. xx.]