Through Bosnia and the Herzegóvina on foot during the insurrection, August and September 1875Evans, Arthur, Sir
History
Through Bosnia and the Herzegóvina on foot during the insurrection, August and September 1875
Evans, Arthur, Sir
Bosnia and Herzegovina -- Description and travel; Bosnia and Herzegovina -- History -- Rebellion of 1875
Now, whether it was the fact that we took out our sketch-books to
immortalise, so far as in us lay, these sooty orifices, or whether in the
way in which we eyed them there was something of the insidious invader,
certain it is that our motions did not escape the observation of an
active and intelligent gendarme, who ‘knew directly,’ as he afterwards
expressed it to a Croat who gave us the relation with great glee, ‘that
we were Russian spies.’ Acting on which supposition with commendable
alacrity, he came up and demanded our pass. Now there is a natural
tendency amongst Englishmen to resent such a demand as an antiquated
absurdity; but our official was so honeyed in manner, so profuse of
‘_bittes_’ and protestations of ‘_Pflicht_,’ that we could not find it
in our hearts to refuse to satisfy the poor fellow’s curiosity. Whereupon
our friend looked at the paper and twisted it first to one side and then
to another; and as he did not understand one word of it, shook his head
very wisely and handed it to his mate, who, not understanding any more,
shook his head more sagely still, and handed it us back, professing—sly
dog!—that they were satisfied.
Those chimneys were ‘the beginnings of evils!’
We, however, had not recognised the first drops of the thunderstorm,
and, proceeding tranquilly on our way, strolled down past an old church
and monastery to the high bank overlooking the Save. It was a beautiful
picture!—a glorious sunset, crimson, golden, opalescent, mirrored on the
silvery expanse of quiet waters, broken only by a small green island
where stately oak-trees huddled together in mid-flood like the giants of
an older world;—far beyond the sky-line, mingling with the mysterious
blue of distant mountains; on the Slavonian bank, pale rows of poplars
and conical haystacks, in relief against the dark fringe of primeval
forest; on the further side, a verandahed guardhouse and the tip of a
minaret—a fore-glimpse of another world—and hark! as the sun goes down,
the solemn tones of the muezzin are faintly borne by the evening breeze
to the shores of that Christendom which once rang with _Allah akbar_!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account