So we started on our way, ostensibly bound for Serajevo, in a covered waggon, escorted by a Zaptieh, and left Travnik unmolested. The four hours’ jolt to Busovac, where we were to sleep, gave us sufficient experience of what a Turkish high-road can be. To cross a bridge was like driving over a row of fallen trunks, with the additional pleasing uncertainty as to whether or not the whole would give way and let us down into the stream below. As to the water-culverts over the lesser brooks, they were almost always broken in, but the horses were equal to the occasion, and always succeeded in jumping the cart over—which itself was springless. At one part we came to a newly-made piece of road, and this was like passing over a succession of heaps of unbroken stones. A precipice yawned at one side, and another cliff rose sheer above us on the other, so that when in the middle of this strait we came upon a monster waggon which had foundered in the vain attempt to make use of the new piece of road, and had taken root as it seemed among large blocks of rock, a serious stoppage occurred; and it was not until after considerable delay that all the levering and pushing and pulling, of our horses, ourselves, our driver, our Zaptieh, and the crew of the foundered waggon, could extricate our cart—which here performed the most extraordinary antics. But here we are safe at our destination at last; nor are we sorry to have arrived, for our Zaptieh has shown unmistakable signs of insubordination. Once, to our great indignation, he swooped on some unfortunate rayahs, and, before we had time to prevent it, ‘requisitioned’ them of some bread, for which, to the great surprise of all parties, we paid, as the quickest way out of the difficulty: besides this, our escort and driver thought themselves privileged to drink raki at our expense at every Han they came to, till we took effectual means to disabuse them of the notion that _we_ were going to pay for it! The country we have been passing through is not so rich as the Possávina and the lower vale of Bosna; the crops generally were poor, the mountains were covered with less stately forest growth, and indeed out of the valleys the trees here became quite scrubby. Thus there is a comparative want of softness about the mountain scenery; the conical limestone hills, with their scrubby overgrowth, looking like frozen folds of green drapery, Düreresque in its stiffness and angularity.