door, as if the whole house was on fire.

Whe

ther the neighbours really thought so or not, I cannot say; but we soon had a large concourse of visiters, each armed with his pipe, in true Turkish fashion.

By dint of much blowing, and some dry shavings, the fire burnt up, and the architecture of the room became visible. It consisted of two parts. One contained lumber of various kinds, the other, on a higher level, portioned off by a light rail, was set apart as the dormitory and parlour; and here a raised divan, in one corner, was appropriated to my

use.

Besides the master of the house, and his friends,

was a gipsy, who was soon called upon to display his skill on the gûsla, and enliven the company with

an

a song; while the others smoked their pipes, occupation, which takes the place of Turkish conversation, and prevents all interruption to a sensitive musician. If I had never heard it before, the novelty might have been a sufficient recommendation; but the enthusiasm of the Montenegrin bard was wanting, on this occasion. A Turkish soldier, at intervals, gave a specimen of his musical talents, on the tamboora, or Albanian guitar, which is played with a quill, or plectrum.

In vain was half the night occupied, in attempts to cook the turkey: it remained obdurate; and, when taken out of the boiler, was so completely impervious to the strongest teeth, that I was glad to leave it to the undisputed possession of the company. Fortunately they all retired to rest, directly after supper, and I was left the sole occupant of the house; the rest quartering themselves on our various visiters.

In the morning, the gipsy made his appearance, with his son, and supposing I must be a doctor, requested me to cure the child, of an illness he had suffered from for years. Very little medicine, and medicinal knowledge, go a great way in these countries; and I was fortunate, while taking care to give nothing that could do harm, to hit upon something that actually did good; which both father and son came to proclaim to me, with thanks, as I passed by, on my return from Mostar. There are several gipsies in Herzegóvina; those in

the neighbourhood of Dretegl are only birds of passage; but at Mostar they amount to about 300. They are more numerous in some parts of Dalmatia, particularly about Verlicca and Sign.

On leaving Dretegl, the road crosses a projecting corner of the hills; from which is a good view of the town of Pógitel*, on the opposite bank, in a picturesque and singular position. It has been a fortified place from very early times, and the post of governor is always held by some distinguished person. It stands in a semicircular recess, like an immense shell, in the side of the hill; and at the two projecting extremities, the walls run down from the summit to the river; the upper part being enclosed by a semicircular wall, terminated at each end by a tower.

The houses are perched at different stages within the rocky ascent, from the water's edge upwards; and near the centre of the lower part is a mosk, with a dome and elegant minaret, and a dark cypress before it; objects which contribute so much to the beauty of Turkish towns. Pógitel has also a clock tower, a building met with at Mostar, and other towns of Herzegóvina; for which the Turks are probably indebted to their Christian predecessors; and, what is more singular, the clock strikes the hours, despite the Moslem prejudice, that "bells drive away good spirits from the abodes of men."

* Pógitegl, or Pozsitegl, sometimes written Pocitel, and Pojitel.