On the Turco-Servian side the masses of rock jut out so far into the stream, that no room is left for a footway.  Here the famous Trajan’s Road once existed.  No traces of this work remain, save that the traveller notices, for fifteen or twenty miles, holes cut here and there in the rock.  In these holes strong trunks of trees were fastened; these supported the planks of which the road is said to have been formed.

At eleven in the forenoon we reached Alt-Orsova, the last Austrian town on the military frontier of Banata or Wallachia.  We were obliged to remain here for half a day.

The town has rather a pretty effect, being composed mostly of new houses.  The house belonging to the steamboat company is particularly remarkable.  It is not, however, devoted to the accommodation of travellers, as at Drenkova.  Here, as at Presburg and Pesth, each passenger is required to pay for his night’s expenses,—­an arrangement which I could not help finding somewhat strange, inasmuch as every passenger is made to pay twice; namely, for his place on the steamer and for his room in the inn.

It was Sunday when we arrived, and I saw many people proceeding to church.  The peasants are dressed tolerably neatly and well.  Both men and women wear long garments of blue cloth.  The women have on their heads large handkerchiefs of white linen, which hang down their backs, and on their feet stout boots; the men wear round felt hats, and sandals made of the bark of trees.

March 29th.

After having completely refreshed ourselves at the good inn called the “Golden Stag,” we this morning embarked on a new craft, the Saturnus, which is only covered in overhead, and is open on all sides.

So soon as a traveller has stepped upon this vessel he is looked upon as unclean, and may not go on shore without keeping quarantine:  an officer accompanied us as far as Galatz.

Immediately below Alt-Orsova we entirely quit the Austrian territory.

We are now brought nearer every moment to the most dangerous part of the river, the “Iron Gate,” called by the Turks Demir kaju.  Half an hour before we reached the spot, the rushing sound of the water announced the perilous proximity.  Numerous reefs of rocks here traverse the stream, and the current runs eddying among them.

We passed this dangerous place in about fifteen minutes.  Here, at the Iron Gate, the high tide befriended us, as it did at the former falls.

I found these falls, and indeed almost every thing we passed, far below the anticipations I had formed from reading descriptions, frequently of great poetic beauty.  I wish to represent every thing as I found it, as it appeared before my eyes; without adornment indeed, but truly.

After passing the Iron Gate we come to a village, in the neighbourhood of which some fragments of the Trajan’s Bridge can be discerned at low water.