ves so
well here that we feel little temptation to return."

The grand exploit in the life of our host was a caravan journey to
Saloniki, where he had the satisfaction of seeing the sea, a
circumstance which distinguished him, not only from the good folks of
Karanovatz, but from most of his countrymen in general.

"People that live near the sea," said he, "get their salt cheap
enough; but that is not the case in Servia. When Baron Herder made his
exploration of the stones and mountains of Servia, he discovered salt
in abundance somewhere near the Kopaunik; but Milosh, who at that time
had the monopoly of the importation of Wallachian salt in his own
hands, begged him to keep the place secret, for fear his own profits
would suffer a diminution. Thus we must pay a large price for foreign
salt, when we have plenty of it at our own doors."[10]

Next day, we walked about Caranovatz. It is symmetrically built like
Csatsak, but better paved and cleaner.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 10: I have since heard that the Servian salt is to be
worked.]

CHAPTER XVII.

Coronation Church of the ancient Kings of Servia.--Enter the
Highlands.--Valley of the Ybar.--First view of the High
Balkan.--Convent of Studenitza.--Byzantine Architecture.--Phlegmatic
Monk.--Servian Frontier.--New Quarantine.--Russian Major.

We again started after mid-day, with the captain and his momkes, and,
proceeding through meadows, arrived at Zhitchka Jicha. This is an
ancient Servian convent, of Byzantine architecture, where seven kings
of Servia were crowned, a door being broken into the wall for the
entrance of each sovereign, and built up again on his departure. It is
situated on a rising ground, just where the river Ybar enters the
plain of Karanovatz. The environs are beautiful. The hills are of
moderate height, covered with verdure and foliage; only campaniles
were wanting to the illusion of my being in Italy, somewhere about
Verona or Vicenza, where the last picturesque undulations of the Alps
meet the bountiful alluvia of the Po. Quitting the valley of the
Morava, we struck southwards into the highlands. Here the scene
changed; the valley of the Ybar became narrow, the vegetation scanty;
and, at evening, we arrived at a tent made of thick matted branches of
trees, which had been strewn for us with fresh hay. The elders of
Magletch, a hamlet an hour off, came with an offer of their services,
in case they were wanted.

The sun set; and a bri