Kniajevatz is the chief town. ZAGOUBITZA Chief town of the arrondissement of Omolje, upon the Mlava. The celebrated monastery of S. Giorgiak is in the vicinity. ZAITCHAR One of the arrondissements of the Zrna Rieka. 25 communes. Also name of the capital of the department. 7000 inhabitants. Coal mines. ZAPLANIE An arrondissement of 55 communes in the department of Nisch. BULGARIA [Illustration: HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE FERDINAND OF BULGARIA.] CHAPTER I SOFIA OF TO-DAY At the Bulgarian frontier—A chat with M. Etienne, French ex-Minister of War—Evening in Sofia—A city of rapid progress—Engaging peasants for Earl’s Court Exhibition—Amusing episodes—Social life in Sofia—The diplomats’ club—The Bulgarian Government grant me special facilities for investigation. The Orient Express—that train of dusty _wagons-lits_ which three days a week gives communication between Ostend and the East—had just passed the Bulgarian frontier at Tzaribrod, and my passport had been examined and stamped by a keen-eyed little man in black. I was sitting in the dining-car with a very distinguished French statesman, M. Etienne, ex-Minister of War, and we had been chatting for several hours as the train wound through the defiles of the Servian mountains. A diplomat’s wife, with four pet spaniels, on her way, I believe, from Japan to the Turkish capital, was seated at the next table to ours. She had ordered coffee, for which she paid with a thousand-franc French note! The takings of the “pudding-car” of the “Orient” must be considerable, for the _maître d’hôtel_ promptly cashed the note—nine “one-hundreds,” some French gold, silver, and copper—and received a few centimes as a tip! It was my first quaint experience in Bulgaria. Mark Twain with his million-pound-note should come here. Curiously enough, I afterwards met the diplomat’s wife in Constantinople. Entering Sofia from the station, the traveller is at first sadly disappointed. The place looks dismal and half finished. There are wide roads and boulevards laid out, with scarcely a house in them. Your cab suddenly turns a corner. The high pointed minaret of a mosque comes into view, and lo! you are in a wide boulevard, which would really do credit to Brussels. You pass a many-domed building, the Cathedral, and presently a pretty garden behind railings, and a long handsome building with sentries at the entrance-gate—the Palace of Prince Ferdinand. You are in modern Sofia. After a wash at the hotel, I went to the Palace, signed my name in His Royal Highness’s visiting-book, and then went forth to wander in the streets.