The succeeding morning it was settled that we should strike our camp and move on to a fresh place.  The beaters were sent back, for they were not a bit of good.  Some of the party also left, amongst them my German friend.  I do not think he will ever join a bear-hunt again, and his departure did not surprise us.  After leaving our late quarters we rode for some hours along a singular ridge, so narrow at places as to leave little more than the width of the sheep-track on the actual summit.  This ridge, more or less precipitous, rises above the zone of forest, and is covered with short thick grass.  We passed, I should think, thirty flocks of sheep at different times, attended by the wild-looking Wallacks and their fierce dogs.

We made a halt in the middle of the day, but the rain was coming down, and we were glad to be soon off again.

In the afternoon we got over into the Roumanian side of the frontier.  The lofty limestone ridge of which I have spoken is in fact the boundary-line at this part.  We were at an elevation of about 6000 feet, judging from the heights above us, when suddenly, or almost suddenly, the clouds were lifted which hitherto had enveloped us.  It was like drawing up the curtain of a theatre.  I never remember to have seen anything so striking as this sudden revealing of the fair world at our feet, bathed in glowing sunlight.  We beheld the plains of Roumania far away stretched as a map beneath us; there, though one cannot discern it, the swift Aluta joins the Danube opposite Nicopolis; and there, within range of the glass, are the white mosques of Widdin in Bulgaria.  We looked right down into Little Wallachia, where woods, rocks, and streams are tumbled about pellmell in a picturesque but unsettled sort of way.  The very locality we were traversing is the part where the salt-smugglers used to carry on their trade, and many a sharp encounter has been fought here between them and the soldiers.  This is now a thing of the past, since Roumania has also introduced a salt monopoly.

We were treated to this glorious view for little more than half an hour; the clouds then enveloped us again, and blotted out that fair world, with all its brightness, as if it were not.  A strong wind blew up from the north, bringing with it a storm of rain and sleet which chilled us to the bones.  The horses went slower and slower.  Including the noonday halt, we had been ten hours in the saddle, and men and horses had had pretty well enough.  I never recollect a colder ride.

We encamped that night in the forest.  I looked out for another rock oven, and found one not otherwise unsuitable for shelter; but unfortunately this time the opening was to the windward side, so it was useless for our purpose.  It was a good thing F——­ did not have a return of his fever here, for we had to pass the night very indifferently.

The next morning the weather continued so persistently bad in the mountains that we voted the “hunt” at an end, and made the best of our way towards Mehadia, from which place we were in fact not so very distant.  The descent was very rapid; at first through a thick forest, then into the open valley, where the heat became intense.  The change of temperature was very striking.