64 IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 



"What are these flags?" I asked my com- 

 panion, a young reserve lieutenant just back from 

 the manoeuvres. 



" The national flag." 



" But not the Austrian. Do you mean the 

 Dalmatian colours ? " 



" Well, it is the flag of the Slav party." 



It is, I think, hardly necessary to add that 

 our lieutenant belongs to the other side. 



I inferred from this display that the Italian 

 party in Sebenico is decidedly in the minority, and 

 in this I was correct. I imagine, too, that they 

 are very peace-loving, or this sort of thing might 

 lead to trouble, as it often does in Spalatro, and 

 recently did in Istria. Then I went and got my 

 English papers, and read that the Union Jack had 

 just been hissed off the stage at Cork. But even 

 "the rebel city" is far more closely united to 

 England than Dalmatia is to Vienna. 



Having finished my business of laying in stores, 

 I found a Crapano fishing-boat just about to start 

 home, and in it I returned to camp. 



The shooting at Zablace is at this season nil. 

 In winter water-fowl, including wild swans, visit 

 the saltings in considerable numbers. There is 

 some shooting at Castel Andreis, seven miles to the 

 southward, where there are marshes, but I did 

 not go there. As usual, there are a few hares 

 and partridges in the vineyards ; but, although I 



