lman, and a cordial hater of Christians, whom, it must be
acknowledged, he lost no opportunity of oppressing, built for himself a
large square house flanked with towers, and otherwise adapted for
defensive purposes. This is situated about six miles from Gasko, and
here he lived in considerable affluence. Taken one day at an unguarded
moment, he was murdered by the Christians, and his mantle descended upon
his son, who, if he has not the same power or inclination to oppress,
shows himself perfectly ready to do battle on all occasions against the
murderers of his father. This individual, then, mounted on a good
useful-looking horse, and loaded with silver-hilted daggers, pistols,
and other weapons of offence, was destined to be our guide. Our road lay
through a long narrow defile, which, like most parts of the Herzegovina,
abounds with positions capable of defence. After five hours' travelling
we arrived at Zaloum, a small military station situated at the highest
point of the pass. I did not see any attempt at fortifications; but, as
all the villages are built quite as much with a view to defence as
convenience, these are hardly necessary. Every house is surrounded by a
court-yard, in most cases loopholed. Taking up our quarters at the only
house capable of affording the most ordinary shelter, we passed the
evening, as far as I was concerned, pleasantly enough. The Secretary, a
middle-aged and very affable Slave, was also somewhat of a _bon vivant_,
and, with the help of sundry adjuncts which he carried with him, we made
a very good meal. The habit of drinking rakee, eating cheese, and other
provocatives of thirst before dining, is quite as rife in these parts of
the empire as at Stamboul, and it frequently happens that the
dinner-hour of a fashionable man is later than in London during the
height of the season. Breakfasting at twelve, they do not touch food
again till dinner-time, and even then their repeated nips of rakee taken
in the hour previous to the repast renders them little disposed for
eating. Shortly after we had commenced dinner at Zaloum, a great
chattering and confusion in the court-yard proclaimed a new arrival.
This proved to be Asiz Bey, an aide-de-camp of Omer Pacha, who was on
his road to Mostar. Snatching a hurried meal, he once more mounted, and
pushed on in the darkness, with the intention of not pulling rein again
until his arrival in Mostar. Later in the evening an excited
agriculturist made his app