The Days of a Man Ci 9 i 4 



In the mission chapel I gave an address on the 

 ev ils of war, this being vigorously translated by a 

 local clergyman, J. J. Satchanoff, a graduate of 

 Robert College. The next day we motored southward 

 across the country, stopping for luncheon at the 

 quaint provincial town of Dubnitza and expecting 

 to spend the night at the famous Greek monastery of 

 Rilo some five or six miles above the village of that 

 name in the Rhodope Mountains. But, running up 

 the swollen river, we found the bridge split lengthwise, 

 the right half having been washed away while the 

 remaining portion, though solid for the moment, 

 was scarcely wider than the automobile itself. One of 

 the priests, a robust, long-bearded patriarch who 



pointed knew of our proposed visit, was there to meet us and 

 strongly urged our making an effort to cross. We 

 felt, however, that we ought to run no risks with the 

 royal car. We therefore turned our backs on Rilo, and 

 having passed the old frontier into Macedonia, soon 

 reached Dzumaia, the first town in New Bulgaria. 



This marks the northern limit reached by the Greek 

 army in its pursuit of the Bulgarians after the battle 

 of Kilkis (Kukush). Beginning here, all towns to the 

 south Simetli, Livenovo, Petritch, and Kula 

 had been burned by the Greeks, who fired the 

 churches, schools, hotels, and other large buildings. 



War From these the flames spread, but the little houses of 

 ac ] o be or stone in the outskirts were naturally the last 

 to go, and many of them were not burned at all. As in 

 other similar regions, homes are almost entirely con- 

 fined to the villages, farmers never daring to live 

 apart from neighbors; and since the time of Alexander 

 agriculture had been carried on at long range, and 

 almost furtively, between armies and wars. 



C 586 n 



