compare it to the Mississippi.  For hours and hours at a time it flows between perfectly flat banks, on which nothing is visible but reeds and willow bushes.  The surface of the river is enlivened by innumerable floating water-mills, which lie at anchor either in midstream or close to the banks, and obtain their motive power from the rapidly flowing current.  These are used for grinding the maize and other cereals of the country.  Here and there a small town or fortification presents itself on either bank.  On the Bulgarian side are the towns of Vidin, Nicopolis, Sistova, and Rustchuk, with their domes and minarets, and idle laughing crowds of gazers, either men picturesquely clad, or women sitting perched, on the rocks, and looking like so many sacks of floor all in a row.  These certainly break the monotony of the great stream, but the general appearance of the river from Verciorova, where it begins to bathe the Roumanian shore, to its mouth at Sulina is one long flat reach, higher, as we have already said, on the Bulgarian than on the Roumanian side.

[Illustration:  TERMINAL PIER OF TRAJAN’S BRIDGE ON ROUMANIAN SHORE.  (FROM A SKETCH BY THE AUTHOR.)]

But although that is the stretch of the river which comes strictly within the scope of our survey, there is another portion, lying immediately above it, that well merits a passing notice, more especially as we know that it played an important part in the Roman conquest and the subsequent colonisation of ancient Roumania.  There is perhaps no river scenery in Europe to equal, and certainly none which excels, that part of the Danube stretching for about seventy-five miles from Bazias—­the terminus of a branch of the railway from Vienna to Verciorova—­to the so-called ‘Iron Gates.’  It is here that the river cuts its way through the Carpathians, and whilst along its general course it varies in width from half a mile to three miles or more, in the Kazan Pass, a defile having on either side perpendicular rocks of 1,000 to 2,000 feet in height, it narrows in some parts to about 116 yards, and possesses a depth of thirty fathoms.  The banks closely resemble those of a fine Norwegian fiord, rising more or less precipitously, and being covered with pines and other alpine trees, and occasionally, as in Norway or even in Scotland, the steamer appears to be crossing a long mountain-locked lake.  At the lower end of this reach of the Danube are what the metaphor-loving Ottomans first called the ‘Iron Gates,’ and they no doubt found them an insurmountable barrier to their western progress up the river.  Considerable misapprehension, however—­which is certainly not removed by the accounts of modern writers, who have apparently copied from one another without visiting them—­exists concerning these same ‘Iron Gates.’  Some of the writers referred to speak of ‘rocks which form cascades 140 metres’ (or about 460 feet) high, ‘and which present serious obstacles to navigation.’  Where these cascades are we were not able to discover.