A walk of about forty minutes brings one to the shore of Val Cassione, a nearly semicircular bay with only a narrow entrance from the Quarnerolo. The water is generally smooth like a pond, the mountain of Treskavac, which rises to the north-east, sheltering it. The island of Zoccolante, girdled with ilex and maples, lies opposite the village of Ponte, and on it is the Franciscan monastery of Cassione. A pergola shelters the path from the boat-house to the porch, and the cloister is full of flowers and bushes. The church has an altar-piece by Girolamo da S. Croce, signed and dated 1535, and a Raffaellesque Virgin and sleeping Child. The library contains a few early printed books. Throughout the island, except in this convent and in the town of Veglia, the Slav liturgy, granted by Pope John VIII. (872-882), is in use.
THE HARBOUR OF BESCA NOVA
The usual route to Castel Muschio and Veglia is from Fiume, but one of our visits was made from Arbe to Besca Nova, a most picturesque and equally evil-smelling port, sheltered by widely stretching rocky points (one of which bears the appropriate name of Punta Scoglia), which rise to mountainous masses behind the little town, with a modern cemetery chapel on one of the lower spurs. The houses straggle round the curve of the shore, with groups of trees here and there, and little creeks running up into the land, crossed by narrow bridges; the streets, mere alleys often, scarcely permitting two persons to pass each other, rise to a church round which they cluster more thickly. At this end of the town the houses cling to the side of the hill above and below the street, and are approached by steps which descend to the front, though there are also doors on the street level convenient for elopements, and wonderful great chimneys of great originality and variety. There were a good many boats in the harbour, and we had an excellent opportunity of seeing it from all points of view, for the pier at which the steamer stops is at one horn of the bay, and it is a walk of a quarter of an hour to the indifferent inn. We asked a couple of gentlemen who were coming out if we could get anything to eat there, and they replied: "Oh yes, if you go at once." We found, however, that we must order what we wanted and wait until it was cooked, so we left the civil padrona to her labours, and immediately were mobbed by a crowd of children to whom strangers were a godsend. A gendarme approached and asked for our credentials, but, being satisfied that we were not dangerous, offered to assist us in any way he could, and we found that the children disappeared for a time. I made inquiries of him as to a couple of pictures ascribed to Vivarini and Basaiti, which I understood were in the town, but he knew nothing about them. The Vivarini is a Madonna enthroned with two child angels at her feet, with three saints on either side of her and angels holding the baldacchino.
THE MAIN STREET, BESCA NOVA
On our return to the inn the question of a carriage to Veglia engaged our attention. There was an officer of some kind in the room, who had taken one of the three carriages which appear to compose the transport of Besca Nova and declined to share it. The second was under repair, one of its wheels being in the hands of the wheelwright on the ground in front of the inn. The third had been engaged by two Italian gentlemen, father and son, and its appearance suggested doubts as to whether it would take five persons and our luggage over the backbone of the island. There was a diligence, but it started at 2 a.m., and the drivers tried to persuade us to sleep at Besca, saying they could take us on at 6 a.m. The déjeuner we had had, however, inspired so little confidence that we determined to get on to Veglia that night, sharing the third carriage with the Italians, though in the end we did not benefit very much by the arrangement. As the shadows began to lengthen, the horses were put to, the harness being supplemented with bits of rope in some places, and we packed ourselves and our belongings into the carriage, finding our fellow-travellers very pleasant companions. The narrow road runs up a rocky valley, at first with a considerable space of cultivated land on each side, vineyards and grain occupying the greater part; and before long Besca Valle came in sight, a barbarous-looking village, with curious reed-thatched huts for styes and cart-hovels, and with whitewashed walls to the houses which stood upon unparapeted terraces supported on great arches used for storage of different kinds. In the church of S. Lucia, some distance away, is the earliest Glagolitic inscription known. Our driver appeared to be on familiar terms with most of the population, and was continually calling out greetings to people some distance from the road.
CHIMNEYS AT BESCA NOVA
The valley narrowed and the rocks rose higher, the clear bright green Fiumera foamed and tumbled in its rocky bed, and we passed a picturesque mill astride of it, backed up with trees. Soon the driver called our attention to a great rock hanging from the cliff which seemed as if its fall from the height was merely a matter of moments, but which had looked so, he said, for years. The continuous climb was interrupted by a wooded depression through which the road wound; it then crossed the stream and commenced a long ascent continuing for more than a mile, which we negotiated on foot. As we rose higher the view expanded, and we found it pleasant to turn and gaze at it, warm in the sunset-glow. The Velebit Mountains, with their summits hidden in the clouds, blushed a beautiful warm rose colour, while Arbe and the nearer island of Pervicchio which shelters the harbour, rather more orange in colour, contrasted with the pale sapphire of the sea, each increasing the brilliancy of the other. The shadowed valley at our feet, with mill, stream, and dark trees, enhanced the brightness of the distance and of the final glow upon Besca Nova, where the curve of its houses embraced the bay with chains of orange and cream colour.