he locality. Buoyed up by hopes of
similar success, fresh gold-diggers had been recently at work, but with
what result I am unable to say.

Bearing away now to the W. we entered the valley of the Druga, a little
rocky stream. Two roads were reported practicable, the longer taking a
winding course past Rachitna, the other, which I selected, being more
direct, but far more rocky and difficult; the ascent at one point was
more severe than anything I ever recollect having seen.

Leaving Druga we descended into the plain of Swynyatcha, a small open
space, which is again connected with Duvno by a pass. The hills on the
left of this pass are called Liep, those on the right Cesarussa. Here,
too, report speaks of the existence of a city in former days, and the
discovery of a large hag of gold coins, like Venetian sequins, has
induced some speculative spirit to commence excavations on a large
scale. But these, I regret to say, have not as yet been attended with
any success. A very fair road has been recently made through this pass,
and the traffic which has resulted from it ought to convince the people
of the utility of its construction. We met many ponies carrying
merchandise from Livno to Mostar, while long strings of carts drawn by
eight bullocks were employed in carrying wood to the villages in the
plain of Duvno. These carts are roughly built enough, but answer the
purpose for which they are intended, viz. slow traffic in the plains.
The axle-trees and linch-pins are made of wood, and indeed no iron at
all is used in their construction. The plain of Duvno is one of the
largest in the province: its extreme length is about fifteen miles, and
villages are placed at the foot of the hills, round its entire
circumference. The most important of these is the seat of a Mudir, to
whom I proceeded at once on my arrival. Although afflicted with a
hump-back, he was a person of most refined manners. His brother-in-law,
Mahmoud Effendi, who is a member of the Medjlis, was with him, and added
his endeavours to those of the Mudir to render my stay at Duvno
agreeable. Having complimented the great man upon the appearance of his
Mudirlik, he laughingly replied, 'Oh, yes, they must work because it is
so cold'--a statement which I felt anything but disposed to question.
The wind was blowing down the plain at the time in bitterly cold blasts,
and I understand that such is always the case. The vegetation appeared
good, in spite of a seeming scarc