I remembered being taken in my childhood to see the snakes fed at the Zoo. Two monster reptiles lay motionless in a glass case. Some live rabbits were inserted, and at once began to frisk lightheartedly round their new quarters. Suddenly one of the reptiles raised its head; all movement ceased for a brief moment; each rabbit crouched, paralysed by terror; the dry, merciless eyes of the python travelled slowly round the cage, his mate stirred expectantly, and then! The horrid, darting jaws did their work--one by one those poor rabbits disappeared. I recollected having been especially sorry for the last one. In Central Europe, at least one python State lay north of the Danube, and to the south were rabbit States, embarking on a ghastly frolic. Bathed in bright October sunlight, the scene before me was both varied and splendid. The town lay immediately below, beyond it the river and vast spaces framed by mountains, some of them so distant that their presence was suspected rather than perceived. The line of junction between the Save and Danube was clearly defined, the white waters of the former confounding themselves reluctantly with the Danube’s steely blue. Both rivers seemed to tell a story; the Save told of mountains, of turbulent, oppressed peoples and their hopes and fears; the Danube of plains and rich cities, of old Europe’s last triumph over Islam, of heroes and conquerors, its broad stream carried the echoes of Ulm and Ratisbon, Vienna and Buda Pesth. Here, at Belgrade, the great river seemed to have found a new task--the task of dividing an ancient empire with immemorial traditions from new States and young peoples, who still retained a bitter memory of the Turkish yoke. Here began a divided allegiance, an unnatural schism between the river’s banks. It was as though the Save had brought down trouble from the mountains; the white line of foam which marked the meeting of the waters was a symbol, a symbol of eternal discord between the past and present. The door opened and a short, thick-set man in the uniform of a Colonel of the Servian General Staff entered the room; he spoke in German, but with some difficulty, and excused himself for having kept me waiting. Then followed the usual commonplaces, in which he expressed his admiration for the British character and our free institutions, while I assured him of the deep interest taken by all classes at home in the future prosperity and development of Servia.