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
But now we began to be beset by a difficulty which while in the forest
zone of the mountains we had not anticipated—namely, the absence of
water, caused by the porous character of the limestone rock; and though
we succeeded in finding our path again, all the runnels we passed were
dried by summer drought. The woods were very silent, and there was no
morning song of birds beyond the cooing of a dove; but while we were
resting we heard a deep musical hum among the tree-tops, proceeding from
myriads of gnats, some of which were droning below. We kept gradually
ascending the back of the Planina, our path continually disappearing or
losing itself in a maze of lesser tracks, which might have been made as
much by animals as by man; and every now and then we had to scramble on
as best we could over tree-trunks of monstrous girth that barred our
path. But still no water to make breakfast palatable! till about two
hours after starting we came to a stagnant pool or puddle about the size
of an ordinary washing-basin, which, as necessity knows no law, we were
driven to make use of, and to pick the tadpoles out of our tea as best we
might!
But how describe this forest scenery! how paint, so that others may
see as we saw them, the golden rays of the rising sun slanting between
the leafy tiers of the beeches, intersecting their shady trunks with
pillars of light, shimmering beyond against the dark mountain flank; not
dappling it in round noon-day patches, but streaking it horizontally with
golden ripples, comparable to nothing but mackerel clouds glorified by
the sunset, trailing across some darker tract of sky. Now and then the
mighty trunks and branches frame vistas of mountain and valley, flooded
still by a forest sea unflecked by habitation—an enamel of quiet blue.
Then the luminous foliage of the beeches gives place for a while to more
sombre pines, whose turpentiny fragrance floats like morning incense down
the forest aisles. Hour after hour, as we ascend, the forest still looms
around us, but the scenery is perpetually changing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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