176, FIFTEEN DAYS ON THE DANUBE. 
vehicles. Tiresome and disagreeable as this drive was, I 
shall never forget it; for it was a fine wild expedition, 
utterly unlike the modern civilized form of shooting which 
we have to put up with in most European countries, and 
the dark lofty forests, the lonely woodland valleys, and the 
marvellous mountain-ranges, all enveloped in the deep gloom 
of an inhospitable night, made the scene look most romantic. 
Day was breaking when we reached the ridge ; for faint 
elimmerings of light—the heralds of the rising sun—were 
visible in the east, and a fresh morning wind was dispersing 
the clouds. The woods and valleys beneath us, the Save, 
and the low-lying Hungarian plains were still merged in 
the darkness of the night; while the mountains of Servia 
and Bosnia rose before us, indistinct and ghostly in their 
outlines. It was a grandly picturesque view. 
The earliest of the birds now began to bestir themselves : 
Tree-Pipits and Blackbirds broke into song, Thrushes hopped 
about under the bushes, and Robins, frightened by our 
horses, flew chirping across the road; while the notes of 
a few Cuckoos heralded the sunrise among the lonely wood- 
land glens, and the Owls were winding up their nocturnal 
ditties. 
It was past four o’clock, and the twilight was pretty well 
advanced, when we struck towards the northern slope of the 
mountains, along a path so overgrown with thick bushes 
as to make riding very disagreeable, for we had great 
difficulty in protecting our faces, and especially our eyes, 
from rough contact with the branches. 
On the highest part of the ridge was a little glade 
surrounded by a thick copse. Here we halted, took our 
euns and cartridge-bags, and, accompanied by the head 
forester, walked along a steep, stony, and thinly-wooded 
hillside, and in about ten minutes saw the forms of the 
aforesaid rocks. At this remarkably interesting spot the 
