I could not help thinking of a certain cicerone at Rome,
who, albeit that he spoke very good French and Italian, always broke out
in English when he saw a picture of a martyrdom of any kind soever;
'That one very good man, cut his head off.' The man had but one idea of
death, and the same may be said of these primitive people, who look upon
decapitation as the easiest termination to a half-starved life.

Leaving Kotauski, where I passed the night of the 21st, at 7
A.M., I reached Brod at 8.30 in the evening. The distance is
considerable, but might have been accomplished in a far shorter time,
had not the country been one sheet of ice, which rendered progression
both difficult and dangerous. Each person of whom I enquired the
distance told me more than the one before, until I thought that a
Bosnian 'saht' (hour) was a more inexplicable measure than a German
'stunde' or a Scottish 'mile and a bittoch.' At length, however, the
lights of Brod proclaimed our approach to the Turkish town of that name.
On the left bank of the Save stands Austrian Brod, which, like all the
Slavonic towns near the river, is thoroughly Turkish in character. Late
as it was, I hoped to cross the river the same night, and proceeded
straight to the Mudir, who raised no objections, and procured men to
ferry me across. But we had scarcely left the shore when we were
challenged by the Austrian sentry on the other side. As the garrisons
of all the towns on the frontier are composed of Grenzer regiments, or
confinarii, whose native dialect is Illyric, a most animated discussion
took place between the sentry on the one hand, and the whole of my
suite, which had increased considerably since my arrival in the town. My
servant Eugene, who had been educated for a priest, and could talk
pretty well, tried every species of argument, but without success; the
soldier evidently had the best of it, and clenched the question with the
most unanswerable argument--that we were quite at liberty to cross if we
liked; but that he should fire into us as soon as we came into good
view. There was therefore no help for it, and unwillingly enough, I
returned to a khan, and crossed over early the following morning. At his
offices, close to the river, I found M.M., le Directeur de la
Quarantine, and general manager of all the other departments. He
accompanied me to the hotel, which, though not exactly first-rate,
appeared luxurious after my three months of khans and tents. I was