we had solemnly drunk the usual
coffee. It was rather an ordeal to consume that very hot coffee in the
face of the multitude, and we were painfully conscious of our many
shortcomings in personal appearance. Muddy and half-wet riding clothes
and flannel shirts do not seem to go with crimson and gold, high boots
of patent leather, and sparkling orders. A Horseguardsman's uniform
would be more in keeping. When we left, the dancing resumed and was
kept up till a late hour that night. We noticed another national dance
at Ostrog. A much more barbaric performance than the stately and
solemn movement of the ring dance, or kolo.

In this case two performers dance at a time, a man and a woman. A
small ring is made by the spectators, who also supply the relay
couples. The man endeavours to spring as high as possible into the
air, emitting short, Red Indian yells, and firing his revolver. The
woman gives more decorous jumps; and, keeping opposite each other,
they leap backwards and forwards across the small open space. After
a few minutes they are unceremoniously pushed aside, after giving each
other a hasty kiss, and another couple takes their place. This goes on
_ad lib._, and we were soothed to sleep by those wild yells.

[Illustration: THE LOWER MONASTERY, OSTROG]

Next morning we were up bright and early, and about seven o'clock
commenced the actual pilgrimage. A steep and stony path winds up
through a dense wood for about an hour. Fanatical pilgrims make this
journey sometimes barefoot, but the ordeal is sufficiently severe
without these little additions. The whole way is lined with beggars,
sometimes hardly recognisable as human beings, who must reap a rich
harvest by the exhibition of their ghastly woes. _They_ constitute the
ordeal.

Maimed stumps of limbs, deformed children, repulsive and festering
sores, and other diseases too foul for description were proudly
exhibited at every step. A cap was placed invitingly in front of each,
and partly filled with alms already given. In piteous agony diseased
hands and quavering voices besought us in the name of God and their
saint to alleviate their sufferings with the gift of a kreutzer. It
was not a sight that will lightly escape the memory.

We reached the top, hot and nauseated, but were fully compensated by
the unique view. The monastery is built under an overhanging precipice
which rises to a giddy height above. The charred rocks bear telling
evidence to the miracles w