Chatting with my Wallack guide helped to beguile the tedious
nature of the ride, an ascent over roughish ground all the way. Arriving
at the summit, we made a noonday halt.
A fire was soon burning, whereat our dinner of robber-steak was
roasted; but the halt was shorter than usual, for I was anxious to push
on, remembering how much time had been lost at starting.
We now gained the other side of the mountain-chain, passing the remains
of an old Turkish camp, the outlines of which were quite visible. From
this point there is a magnificent view, interminable forests to the
eastward clothing the deep ravines that score the hillsides. The
accidents of light and shade were particularly happy on this occasion,
bringing out various details in the picture in a very striking manner.
As a general rule, there is no time so unpropitious for scenic effect as
noonday.
We passed from the grassy Alpen down into the thick of the forest,
losing very soon any glimpse of the distant view, or any help from
conspicuous landmarks. It was a labyrinth of trees, with tracks crossing
each other in a most perplexing manner. I could not have got on without
a guide.
When the evening approached I thought it was time to look out for
quarters for the night. Our first necessity was water, but we went on
and on without coming upon a stream. It was provoking, for we had passed
so many springs and rivulets earlier in the day, and now darkness
threatened to wrap us round with the mantle of night before we had
arranged our bivouac.
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