"There are no roads for carriages," said the mayor.
"Then we will take the horses without the carriages."
The mayor called in two more men: they considered the pass once more.
"You may have the carriages two days more," he decided at last. "Go to
Tutigne. As far as that the carriages will travel. There are many horses
there, and you can get pack ponies."
Coming out we ran into Colonel Stajitch of Valievo. The colonel is a
Serbian gentleman, fine figure, beautiful face, and white hair and
moustaches. He greeted us, asked us our news. We told him of our
projected journey. He became thoughtful and after a while said good-bye.
We took our convoy through the town to a field on the outskirts where
we pitched the camp.
We borrowed the corporal's axe and hewed for some time in a thorn hedge,
without getting much profit but many prickles, and finally decided to
take a paling from a Turkish cemetery, for there was no one about.
Soon we had a jolly fire, and Cutting and Whatmough got to work on the
food.
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