360 IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 



covert. As I crossed the stream for the eighth 

 time, I passed a tumbledown mill to my left ; few 

 of these mountain streams but have one or two, 

 to which the mountain villagers bring their corn 

 many miles. Even the Lakat villagers come all 

 the way to Glavaticevo for this purpose. This 

 one, however, was deserted this morning. As we 

 gradually ascended through the woodland Dinah 

 got a whiff or two of last night's drag, probably 

 that of a hare, and became less amenable to the 

 leash. However, she had to restrain her eagerness 

 a good bit yet. At the end of an hour's sharp walk, 

 a convenient fallen tree invited repose, so, tying 

 up the bitch, I sat down and filled a pipe. Before 

 it was smoked out Dinah had become very restless, 

 and finally broke out in a whine, by which she 

 meant, " How much of this beautiful morning 

 are we going to waste like this?" A beautiful 

 morning it was, certainly, for there was not a cloud 

 in the sky ; nor was it cold, even down here in the 

 glen, where the sun had not reached, and probably 

 never did reach. Not much like the middle of 

 November to-day. We continued our way, and 

 where a little mountain torrent — now dry — had 

 made a side valley, the dead leaves, elsewhere 

 white with hoar frost, showed a black spot. A 

 roebuck had been turning them over since the 

 frost, as Dinah's waving stern testified. Very well, 

 especially as it was at this very spot I had meant 



