GYPSIES IN THE LAND OF THE SLOVAKS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12061, 17 July 1917, Page 7

GYPSIES IN THE LAND OF THE SLOVAKS.

'' Evsrvwhere there is quiet and rest and peace and a sens© of life that is mymd-fold. it is early morning, on the late summer." ' writes the K-igiit; Hon W. F. Bailey 'in " Slavs of the War Zone- The sky. cleared by yesterday's rain, is brilliant, the sun has onlv 'this moment sent its red name over the mountain tops, and the birds are carolling gaily all round. Underfoot the grass is saturated with moisture and gives forth a pungent, fragrant' odor. Que by one the big blue forget-me-nots are opening their eyes to reflect the azure of the sky- • • .• The silvery lichen on the boulders is drying, and the light that comes filtering through the lofty canopy made by the giant red-truiiked pines sparkhs in crvstal tufts on thch uge tufts of grey moss which hangs in festoons irom branoli to branch of the fir tree?. Below the black belt of the pine forest, below tho oaks and birches and ashes, there is a clearing, and from here can be seen, lying stretched out far, far beneath, tfio immense plains, all golden in the soft hazy mist, and behind and around towers the glorious amphitheatre of the Carpathians. There is something angry and defiant about them, there is something savage in their aspect. Peak above peak they rear themselves, thenlower slopes and steep perpendicular cliff sides densely clothed with foliage, their highest summits bald, fierce aud rugged." "Right at the very top of one of these mountains, thousands of feet above the level of the sea, is a tiny lake. Indeed, there are many lakes, and the peasants call them the ' Eyes of the Sea,' because of their sapphire blueness and bi-cause they believe that between them a.nd the ocean there are subterranean passages unknown and unexplored by man. . - . Just where the fringe of forest ends and merges into an upland, flower-gemmed meadow, a tribe of Tsiganes (gypsies) are encamped. True to their instinct thev have chosen a spot where beauty is splendid. The cluster of crazy brown-pointed tents shows no 6ign of occupation, when suddeuly the flop door of one opens cautiously and a. dishevelled black head appears, followed by a second and a third and a fourth. '"Soon a straggling purple trail of smoke begins to curl upwards, and the odour of the strange delicacy mixes with tho perfume of the morning. These are the true gypsies, the tscha techopes Koravarom. the race which has no expression in their language which signifies 'to dwell.' These are the genuine 'rulers' of the solitudes.' Presently a ! young girl . . . comes flying with hair unbound across the drenching meadow on her way to fill a. pitcher at the stream. So swiftly and lightly do her slim feet touch the ground, that the gentians and fairy grasses are scarcely vexed by her passing. Then, all at once, but at. first very softly, rises the dawn of music of 'Pharaoh's

People.' " ' Praise the Lord upon the cymbals, praise Him upon the loud cymbals!" Old as music itself are these Tsigano cymbals, and as old is the melody this vagabond is playing. Up—up—soar the jubilant notes, ringing, vibrating, full of the joy of life, full of gratitude for the world which these undisciplined pagan wanderers, almost alone among all "the discontented races of the earth, still behold and find very good. " Startled by the music, a deer leaps for an instant into the open, glances round with wide, terrified eyes, and bounds back again into the covert, "Whirr—-whirr—from the thicket to the right comes the flutter and rush of plumage and an enormous, brightbreasted bird (auerhahn) spreads its fan-like black wings, and takes scared flight to regions without man. In the shadowy hidden places of tber-e forests, long years ago, aurochs and ibex had their dwelling. To-day. far away in their higher and gloomier reaches, bears, wolves, lynxes, wild cats, roe, have their man-unmolested habitations, and birds, thousands upon thousands of birds, ring doves, blue jays, magpies of every hue and tint, fly and flit from branch to branch. " Down yonder is the stony road leading abruptly to the village. It can bo reached by following the dewy, flowery path that winds through the meadow. Butterflies, amber, a sure, white of wing, and big green-and-gold beetles flit, among the blossoms, and only t'ho Tsigano melody, tho gurgling and splashing of the brook,, the pinging of tho birds and ' the buzzing of insects break that silence.''