her raven tresses and sparkling sombreness of eye, there was a charm almost Italian—had it not yet been eminently South-Sclavonic. She seemed as amiable as she was lovely, and was evidently recognised as a belle even in her small circle; for she alone, we noticed, was possessed of ear-rings. Her comeliness was indeed the _beau idéal_ of Serbian fancy; but I should hardly have drawn attention to it here, were not really transcendent beauty so rarely seen among these uncultured South-Sclavonic peoples, perhaps one might say, among the barbarous members of our Aryan family generally. In a highly civilized society like our own, the proportion of Peris—if I dare generalize—is greater; but, on the other hand, if anyone wishes to find examples of the deepest human degradation, he must search, not among the mountain homes of the oppressed rayahs of Bosnia, but rather in the alleys of one of our great cities. With us the gamut of beauty is greater. But it is high time to take a fond farewell! so, leaving this flower of the Bosnian highlands ‘to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air,’ we began ascending our ridge, and finding another path, came, an hour or so further on, to a leafy canopy supported by four poles, beneath which squatted two venerable Mahometans with sage and hoary beards. We recognised the signs of a rustic _café_, and taking our seats on a convenient grassy bank, refreshed ourselves with sundry fragrant cupfuls, the while much delighting our ancient coffee-maker and his fellow with an exhibition of English hunting-knives. We soon after reached the summit of the ridge, and following it along a succession of down-like lawns, gained, from its southern-most bluff just above the Priesnica torrent, a fine mountain panorama, and in especial a good view of the limestone precipices of Mt. Trescovica (which here forms the boundary between Bosnia and Herzegovina), frowning over lower forest-covered heights. So sharp was the contrast between the bold curves and contortions of the light limestone rock and the softer contours and verdant shades beneath, that one could fancy that the green undulations of the Planinas round had at one point burst into foaming billows; and, indeed, the mountain crest seemed to curl over as to imitate a breaking wave,—but alas! how flat is the poetry of nature when reduced to black and white by a prosaic pencil! [Illustration: Mount Trescovica, from South-Eastern Spur of Mount Igman.]