We supposed it would be all right. Jo's horse became nearly
vertical, and she sat back against its tail. Jan followed. Sometimes a
sheet of rock was across the path--then we slid; sometimes the sand
became very soft--we slid again. Then a muddy bit, and the horse
squelched down on his hind quarters.
Here we met a Serbian captain who was in charge of the battery. He was
very lonely, and delighted to have a chance to talk, and he talked hard
all day, showed us a neat reservoir his men had built, explained to us
that beautiful uniforms were coming from Russia soon for the weirdly
garbed beings who were guarding the hills, and asked us to lunch behind
the trenches under a canopy of boughs.
While lunch was being prepared he took us round his artillery, and into
his observation station on the top of a crooked tree. Below us we could
see the river Dreina--on the other side of which was Gorazhda, held by
the Austrians--and the fortified hills behind.
It seemed impossible that this wide peaceful scene was menacing with a
threat of death, yet at intervals one could hear a faint "pop! pop!" as
though far-away giants were holding feast and opening great champagne
bottles.
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