[Footnote U:  This can scarcely be correct, as everything implies far greater antiquity.]

CHAPTER XVII.

Svornik—­Banialuka—­New Road—­Sport—­Hot Springs—­Ekshesoo—­Mineral Waters—­Celebrated Springs—­Goitre—­The Bosna—­Trout-fishing—­Tzenitza—&sh
y;Zaptiehs—­Maglai—­Khans—­Frozen Roads—­Brod—­The Save—­Austrian Sentry—­Steamer on the Save—­Gradiska—­Cenovatz—­La lingua di tre Regni—­Culpa River—­Sissek—­Croatian Hotel—­Carlstadt Silk—­Railway to Trieste—­Moravian Iron—­Concentration of Austrian Troops—­Probable Policy—­Water-Mills—­Semlin—­Belgrade.

The shortening days, and the snow, which might now be seen in patches on the mountain sides, warned us of approaching winter, and the necessity for making a start in order to ensure my reaching Constantinople before the Danube navigation should be closed.  My illness and other circumstances had combined to detain me later than I had at first intended, and I was consequently compelled to abandon the idea of visiting either Svornik or Banialuka, two of the largest and most important towns in the province.  The former of these places is interesting as being considered the key of Bosnia, in a military point of view; the latter, from the numerous remains, which speak eloquently of its former importance.  The navigation of the Save, too, having become practicable since the heavy rains had set in, I resolved upon the simplest route of reaching Belgrade, viz., that by Brod.  In coming to this decision, I was influenced also by my desire to see the valley of the Bosna, in and above which the road lies for almost the whole distance.  No site could have been more judiciously chosen, than that in which Serayevo is built.  Surrounded by beautiful hills and meadows, which even in November bore traces of the luxuriant greenness which characterises the province, and watered by the limpid stream of the Migliaska, its appearance is most pleasing.  As we rattled down the main street at a smart trot on the morning of the 16th November, in the carriage of Mr. H., the British Consul, it was difficult to believe oneself in a Turkish city.  The houses, even though in most cases built of wood, are in good repair; and the trellis-work marking the feminine apartments, and behind which a pair of bright eyes may occasionally be seen, materially heightens the charms of imagination.  The road for the first six miles was hard and good.  It is a specimen of Osman Pacha’s handiwork, and is raised considerably above the surrounding fields, the sides of the road being rivetted, as it were, with wattles.  At the end of that distance, and very near the confluence of the Migliaska and the Bosna, I separated from my friends, who were bent on a day’s shooting.  From the number of shots which reached my ear as I pursued my solitary journey, I should imagine that they must have had a successful day.  The love of sport is strongly developed in the people of these