We left nearer seven than six.
The air was chilly, and though there were bits of blue in the sky, the
hills were floating in mist, and there was a sharp shower. There were
more groups of Americans trudging along, and also a fair number of
peasants, the women, as usual, dignified and beautiful. Very hungry we
at last came to Jabooka. A jolly woman--we were getting away from
"Pod"--welcomed us and dragged us into the kitchen. She asked Jo many
questions, one being, "What relation is he to you, that man with whom
you travel?" The fire on the floor was nearly out, but she rained sticks
on to it, blew up the great central log, which is the backbone, into a
blaze, and soon the smoke was pouring into our eyes and filtering up
amongst the hams in the roof. We were drinking a splendid cafe au lait
when an old woman peered in at the door.
"Very beautiful Jabooka," she said.
We agreed heartily.
"Not dear either," she said.
We expressed surprise.
"You can buy cheap," she went on.
We regretted that we did not wish to.
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