Among the historical landmarks in the town of Zara, the Cinque Pozzi, or Five Fountains, constitute one of the most prominent. They stand in a row in front of a broad flight of stone steps, which lead up to a shady park overlooking the docks and part of the city. These fountains are more like cisterns and from them the poorer inhabitants still draw their water, carrying it away in great jars upon their heads. They were designed by Sammichieli, an architect of Verona, and built in 1574. To them the water is conducted from sources outside the city, first passing through a rather elaborate system of subterranean filtration. An architect living in Zara has in his possession a copy of a plan of these filters as designed by Sammichieli himself. [Illustration: THE FIVE FOUNTAINS, ZARA.] Included in the manifestations of the Roman occupancy of Zara are the fragments of an ancient temple dedicated to Juno Augusta, the consort of Emperor Augustus. These fragments had been built into the old church of St. Donato, erected in the ninth century. And you will be loth to leave Zara, for at every turn you discover something that seems to be more interesting than that which you saw before. The streets are clean and although the rays of the sun are uncomfortably hot, the narrow thoroughfares are always shady and invite you to wander aimlessly up and down, lingering here and there before the shop windows. In the evening, while the band plays, the scene along the quay is one of gayety, and you will be inspired to make the resolution, that, if ever again you happen along the eastern coast of the Adriatic, Zara will be sure to receive from you a more lengthy visit. CHAPTER XIX THE GULF OF QUARNERO The Home of the Bora—Fiume—Abbazia—The Home of the Torpedo—Descendants of the Uscocs. In summer or fall it is a pleasant boat trip of six hours from Zara to Fiume, which is prettily situated at the north-eastern end of the Gulf of Quarnero. But in the winter and early spring, at which seasons the “Bora,” or north-east wind, is prevalent, keep an eye on the barometer! It is at this north-eastern end of the Gulf, in the mountains back of Fiume, that this dreaded wind is born. Accumulating velocity with every blast, it sweeps down upon the sea with relentless fury, carrying everything before it, overturning carts, upsetting horses in the streets and putting a quietus, for the time being, on all navigation within range.