384 IN THE LAND OF THE BORA. 



top, we met a Turk so comically muffled up that, 

 in spite of my feelings, I felt inclined to laugh. 

 But before long the laugh was on his side. It was 

 not till we had reached the upper part of the first 

 pass we had to traverse that we realized how 

 strong the bora was, and then for the first time I 

 understood what a bora in the mountains with the 

 temperature below zero meant. To say that it 

 went through one's clothes as if they had not 

 existed gives one no idea of the fearful bitterness 



of the blast. Poor E fairly cried with cold, 



and no wonder, till I made her get off and walk, 

 and from choice she performed a great part of the 

 journey on foot. The worst of it was that all our 

 furs and thickest clothes were in a Mostar ware- 

 house, providing, as we subsequently ascertained, 

 a sumptuous repast for the moths. 



All things come to an end, however, and, as 

 fortunately the wind was behind us, we traversed 

 the second bare and rocky pass at last, and struck 

 a new road winding down the other side. As we 

 descended we felt the wind less, but, on the other 

 hand, the sun had set, and the temperature con- 

 sequently was lower than ever. At the bottom of 

 the hill we emerged on the Zimlje plain, and were 

 once more on familiar ground. Cold and weary 

 was the climb up to Kuiste gendarmerie barracks 

 that night ; but we were expected, and a room 

 with a roaring fire was ready for us. Not till then 



