As it only took us four hours by steamer to go from Alt Moldova to Milanovacz, we calculated that we might reach Maidenpek, our destination in Servia, the same day by borrowing a few hours from the night, as an Irishman would say.  However, it turned out that there was so much bargaining and dawdling about at Milanovacz before we could settle on a conveyance that we did not get away till six o’clock—­too late a great deal, considering the rough drive we had before us.  Immediately after starting we began to wind our way up the mountain.  The views were splendid.  The Danube at this part again spreads out, having the appearance of a lake something like the Rhine near Bingen.  We looked right over into Transylvania and Roumania from the commanding position afforded by the terraced road up which we slowly toiled.

We had hardly gained the highest point when we remarked that the sky was becoming rapidly overcast by clouds from the west.  Our Servian driver swore it would not rain; he knew the signs of the weather, he said, but as he applied the whip and galloped his horses at every available opportunity, it was clear he had an inner consciousness of coming trouble.  The road now led through a forest.  Here and there a gap in the thick foliage gave us a glimpse of the distant landscape, and of the curious atmospheric effects produced by the coming storm.  The clouds rolled up behind us in dense masses, throwing the near mountains into deep shadow, while the plain far beneath was flooded with bright sunshine.

The effect, however, was transitory, for the dark shadow soon engulfed the distant plain, blurring the fair scene even while we looked upon it.  The change was something marvellous, so sudden and so complete.  Up to this time the air had been still, and very hot; but suddenly a fierce wind came upon us with a hoarse roar—­almost like the waves of the sea—­up the valley and over the hill-top it came, right down upon us, tearing at the forest-trees.  The branches, in all the full foliage of leafy June, swayed to and fro as the wind went roaring and shrieking down the hillside; the next moment the earth shook with the clap of a terrific burst of thunder.

The horses stood still and shuddered in their harness, and it was with difficulty they were made to go on.  It was evident the storm was right over us, for now succeeded flash upon flash of forked lightning, with thunder-claps that were instantaneous and unceasing.

At the same time the windows of heaven were opened upon us, or rather the sluices of heaven it seemed to me; for the rain descended in sheets, not streams, of water.  Without any adventitious difficulties, the road was as objectionable as a road could be; deep ruts alternated with now a bare bit of rock strewn with treacherous loose stones, and now a sharp curve with an ugly slant towards the precipice.