372 IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 



hail, thunder, and lightning. Needless to say, 

 the river began to rise at once. For six days the 

 rains and the melting snows swelled it to a tur- 

 bulent torrent, and every morning it was nearer 

 and nearer to our tent. At last the commander 

 of the gendarmerie post sent down to warn us 

 of the danger of remaining any longer where 

 we were. At that hour, however, the river had 

 ceased to gain on us, and I went to bed with a 

 reasonable hope of a quiet night. Happening 

 to wake up at half-past one, I slipped on some 

 things, and took the lantern for a final survey. 

 Horror! it had risen two feet more, and was 



within that of us. I aroused E , and, leaving 



her to dress, went off to the village in search of 

 Duran, who soon came accompanied by another 

 Turk. As the best plan, we decided to take 

 refuge in the barrack, leaving the men to watch 

 and call me if necessary. But the necessity did 

 not arise, and when I went down next morning 

 they showed me the high-water mark, two feet 

 from the tent on the shelving bank, and vertically 

 perhaps four inches. This was not good enough, 

 so camp was at once struck. 



The best plan, no doubt, would have been to 

 trek to Mostar there and then, but the tent, wet 

 as it was, was too heavy for any horse. We 

 selected a fresh site a hundred yards further 

 back, and I may mention, as a proof of how adept 



