IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 325 



I had been out a good deal lately, and did not 

 want to trash the hounds. On this first day, 

 then, the only living thing I saw was a common 

 salamander (a proof how much damper these 

 woods are) ; but the autumn tints of the wood- 

 lands, notably the scarlet of the sumach, which 

 grows everywhere, were wonderfully fine. 



Three or four days afterwards I had another 

 try, and on this occasion I handed over my second 

 rifle to old Didic, and took Duran to work the 

 hounds. Our way lay along the river to the 

 hamlet of Biskup. Near this is a romantically 

 situated Bogumilite burying-ground, buried in 

 exceptionally fine old trees. As usual, some of the 

 monoliths are enormous, but only one still bears 

 traces of conventional design. A little beyond 

 this a curious rock stands out from the wood- 

 land. At first sight it looks like a colossal statue 

 of Mephistopheles — horns, cloak, and club-foot 

 being all distinct ; but this is because one then 

 sees it end on. The side that faces the river 

 is three or four times as long as the end, and 

 stands firmly enough on its natural pedestal. 

 Below it lie some ruins of circular masonry, 

 which I at first put down as defensive, but, on 

 seeing some ancient Turkish tombstones near, 

 finally decided to be the grave of some personage. 

 Here we crossed a large brook by a single log 

 bridge, and turned up along its further bank. 



