Next morning we had a difficulty with mine host, a German-speaking Slavonian, who charged us a ducat—a monstrous sum for a night’s entertainment in Bosnia, and over three times as much as we had paid at Dervent. Our Zaptieh assessed us at half the amount, and we were preparing to pay that much and be off; but the Hanjia had the wit to lock up L⸺’s knapsack, so we had nothing for it but to offer our host the choice of accepting our terms, or the ducat he demanded, with the prospect of being complained of to the Mudìr of Doboj. He chose the latter alternative, and we left, our Zaptieh shouting ‘Hajduk Hanjia!’ (Brigand innkeeper!) Our Zaptieh was, in his way, a very good fellow, and we were pleased at the friendly manner in which he treated the rayahs. His demonstrations of affection towards ourselves and Englishmen in general were perhaps a little too hilarious; for he kept shouting for miles at a time that the Turks and English were brothers. He accompanied us presently in a swim in the blue waters of the Bosna, which is here so rapid that we had to choose out a sheltered bay in which to disport ourselves. About half an hour after, resuming our trudge, on passing a turn in the road, the old castle of Doboj rose before us, finely seated on a conical hill. We found a Han in the lower part of the town, and then visited the Mudìr, whom we found seated on a small but neat and brilliant divan, and to whom our Zaptieh poured forth the story of our Hanjia’s extortion. We have some reason to believe that two Zaptiehs were dispatched to enquire into the matter. We now ascended the hill to explore the upper part of the town and the castle. The main street is an undulating and snaky mud-path, along each side of which are ranged the usual unglazed shops, in which English cottons, knives and scissors, and European-labelled bottles containing various spirits, are mixed with gold-embroidered Turkish apparel, and a variety of tinned-copper salvers, and water vessels of coffee-pot shape. In one shop were for sale rude hand-mills of this shape for grinding salt. [Illustration: Diagram of Salt-mill.] But the wine shop carried one back to some tavern of antiquity. It displayed a wooden bar facing the street, covered with an array of jars, ‘_testjas_’ as they are still called hereabouts, Roman alike in shape and name, behind which the vendor stood and filled brimming cups and jars with thick red wine for the passers-by. The whole scene called to mind a more classic wine-bar, as it is still to be seen on the monument of a Gallo-Roman taverner discovered at Dijon.