ched Maidenpek without further mishap, and here I began to make
inquiries again about a horse. I was informed that in some of the
villages farther up I should be sure to find the sort of horse I wanted,
and not sorry for an excuse for exploring the country, I agreed to go,
at the same time getting my friend to join me.

We hired some horses for the expedition, and set off, a party of four:
three Englishmen (for we had picked up a friend at Maidenpek) and a Serb
attendant, who was to act as our guide. He rode a small plucky horse,
being armed with a long Turkish gun slung over his shoulder, while his
belt was stuck full of strange-looking weapons, worthy of an
old-curiosity shop. We were mounted on serviceable little nags, and had
also our revolvers.

The ride was truly enjoyable. We soon left the road, and took our way
along a forest path in Indian file, our picturesque guide leading the
way. The path came to an end before long, and we then followed the
course of a little stream; but as it wound about in a most tortuous
manner we were obliged to be continually crossing and recrossing.
Sometimes we rode through a jungle of reeds, at least eight feet high;
then we had to scramble up a sandy bank. The horses were like cats, and
did their scrambling well; and at rare intervals we found ourselves on a
fair stretch of open lawn which fringes the dense forest. There were
bits here and there which reminded one of Devonshire, where the
luxuriant ferns dipped their waving plumes into the cool waters of the
rocky stream. In the forest, too, there were exquisite fairy-spots,
where, as Spenser says, is found "beauty enregistered in every nook."

After a time the way grew more wild in the character of the scenery, and
at length the route we took was so rough that we had to dismount and
lead our horses up the side of a steep hill. It was tiresome work, for
the heat was intense; but gaining the top, we were rewarded by a grand
view of the Balkan Mountains rising directly south. We ought to have
made out Widdin and a stretch of the Danube at Palanka; but the middle
of the day is the worst time for the details of a distant view.

Shortly after this we arrived at a small uncivilised-looking village.
The men were powerfully built in point of figure, and the women rather
handsome. Both sexes wear picturesque garments. This village, like many
others of the same kind, we found encircled by plum-orchards. Thousands
of barrels of dried plums