IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 185 



and pot him without scruple. The others rise, but 

 the light is too bad to shoot flying now. 



At the top of the little pass which separates 

 the Blato from the Mostar valley stands a han, 

 where, as at all these places, you get an excellent 

 pot of coffee for a penny. Whilst it is being made 

 I discuss a tumblerful of the heady Mostar wine — 

 no bad pick-me-up when, after a long day, you 

 have still nearly a couple of hours' walk before 

 you, as is my case. However, when my pipe is 

 smoked, I feel decidedly better for rest and re- 

 freshment, but thankful, nevertheless, that the way 

 is all downhill. These hans form a pleasant feature 

 in Herzegovinian sport, and on many an evening 

 I have been glad to see one in the distance. An 

 old Luxemburg forester once told me that a sports- 

 man should be able to go all day on " une pomme, 

 une goutte, et une pipe," and though these form no 

 bad proviant, I fancy the black coffee is preferable 

 to the scJmaps. The sportsman entering a han 

 will often find a native singing and accompanying 

 himself on a guzla. This is a mandoline-shaped 

 stringed instrument, but is played with a bow, held 

 like that of a violoncello. It is only used to pro- 

 duce one melody — if that can be so called — and 

 that purely as an accompaniment. The singing 

 should perhaps be more strictly called intoning, 

 and is a decidedly monotonous nasal chant. It is, 

 however, interesting from one point of view, and 



