a similar feat at the same place. His
story ran thus: 'At the convent of Livno, all the Roman Catholic girls
of the district are married. On one occasion a young bride was receiving
the congratulations of her friends, when a feather which had been
fastened across her head became loosened, and waved around it. A
bystander remarked that he would be a good shot who could carry away the
feather without injuring the head. The girl upon hearing this looked
round and said, "If you have the courage to fire, I will stand." Upon
which the bystander drew a pistol and shot away the truant feather.'

The valley of Drechnitza is wild and rocky, but sufficiently wooded to
present a pleasing aspect. The timber is in many places of large girth,
and might easily be transported to the sea. It is invested also with
more than common interest by the primitive character of its people, and
the legends which associate it with the early history of the province.

At present only four villages remain in the valley; that where our hosts
lived being the most ancient. They indeed spoke with pride of having
occupied their present position since before the conquest, paying only a
nominal tribute of one piastre and a half until within the last thirty
years, since which time their privileges have been rescinded.

On the left bank of the Drechnitza, about half-way between its
confluence with the Narenta and the house of our hosts, is a small
valley named Petral; it derived its name from the following
circumstances:--For seven years after the rest of Bosnia and the
Herzegovina had been overrun by the Turks under Mehemet II., the people
of this valley maintained an unequal combat with the invaders. The
gallant little band were under the orders of one Peter, who lived in a
castle on the summit of a height overlooking the plain; this plain could
only be approached by two passes, one of which was believed to be
unknown to the Turks. In an evil hour an old woman betrayed the secret
of this pass, and Peter had the mortification one morning of looking
down from his castle upon the armed Turkish legion, who had effected an
entrance during the night. Like a true patriot, he sank down overcome by
the sight, and died in a fit of apoplexy; whence the valley has been
called Petral to this day.

A few ruins mark the spot where the church stood of yore, and four
tombstones are in tolerably good preservation. Beneath these repose the
ashes of a bishop and three monks;