124 FIFTEEN DAYS ON THE DANUBE. 
not be pleasant to be driving down the steep hills just as it 
was getting dark. The sky was clear again, for the threatening 
clouds which had come up in the afternoon had all been dis- 
persed by a strongish east wind, and though a storm was 
still rumbling in the far south, there seemed to be every pros- 
pect that we were at the beginning of a series of fine days. 
The drive home through the loneliest districts of the thick 
luxuriant mountain woods, by the sides of rushing brooks 
and across pretty glades, lasted at least two hours, and had a 
great fascination for us, for we felt ourselves in our true 
element in this wild primitive country, far from all traces 
of civilization. The Fruska-Gora is really a wonderfully 
striking wilderness, and when gazing on its silent mountain- 
valleys we almost forgot the splendid impressions made by 
the Apatin “auen.” As we were passing the shooting-lodge, 
after a long drive, it began to get dark, the shadows deepened, 
bats were flitting around, roe and red deer were moving 
warily about the glades, and love-lorn owls were calling to 
their mates from the high trees. 
Among the small birds I saw little of ornithological interest 
during the entire day. Here, as everywhere else, the beech 
woods are but sparingly stocked with songsters, and the 
commonest notes were those of the Blackcap, Chaffinch, and 
Oriole, while I often heard the monotonous call of the Cuckoo, 
As it grew later even the Wood-Pigeons were silent, and we 
soon heard nothing but the buzzing of the insects and the 
chirping of the grasshoppers. 
The darker it became the more slowly we advanced, and 
just as we got clear of the woods, and began the drive across 
the plateau and through the vineyards, the most tiresome and 
perhaps very worst part of the whole road, the trap in which 
we were sitting broke down. All the way back it had been a 
matter of astonishment to me that every one of these country 
carts had not gone to pieces long ago; but it was just the fact 
