IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 359 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



The sun was struggling with the dense white mist 

 as I drew up the door of the tent at about half- 

 past seven. Here, down by the river, its rays had 

 not yet penetrated, and the grass was still white 

 with rime, but that hillside which faced east was 

 bathed in sunshine. The air was keen, and the 

 thickness of the ice on a bucket outside the door 

 proved that the frost had been sharpish. I was 

 glad to return to the genial warmth of the stove, 

 which Duran had lighted half an hour before. By 

 the time I had despatched my breakfast the sun 

 had cleared off the mist, and I started off with 

 one hound, Dinah, in leash. After crossing the 

 bridge I was again in shadow, and felt glad enough 

 of a thick kilt and shooting-coat. I struck off up 

 the Razica valley, opposite my camp, and followed 

 a hill path which kept on crossing and recrossing 

 the meandering rivulet. Half a mile up I passed 

 two exceptionally large Bogumilite tombs, on 

 which, however, no sign of carving was visible. 

 I did not meet a soul on my way, and after a little 

 more than half an hour my path led into a dense 



