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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"


Jo looked at her with pity. "That's heavy," she said.
The woman stared stupidly and answered nothing; but the man smiled and
said--
"Yes, heavy. Bogami."
We passed more caravans of that all too soon benzine. Cliffs began to
tower up on every side, and precipices to fall away beneath our feet to
a greenish roaring torrent; great springs spouted from the rocks and
dashed down upon the stones below in shredded foam: one was pink in
colour. Here once a general and his lady were riding, and the lady's
horse slipped. The general grasped her but lost his own balance, and
both fell into the river and were killed. The track wound up and down,
often very slippery underfoot, and the horses, shod with the usual flat
plates of iron, were slithering and sliding on the edge of the
precipices. At last we got off and walked. It was an immense relief: our
saddles were intensely hard, stirrups unequal lengths, and with knots
which rubbed unmercifully on the shins. We passed a man who was
evidently an Englishman, and he stared at us as we passed, but neither
stopped.


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