CHAPTER X
THROUGH DALMATIA AND THE BORDER-LANDS
Early the following morning they made their start, packs on backs, over the low, waste lands of Dalmatia. The sun was burning hot; nothing but extensive plains of desert met the eye; far in the distance were low mountains, which glistened in the scorching sun with a startling whiteness, most dazzling to the eyes. There was a sameness about the landscape which wearied the boys.
"I certainly should not like to live here," remarked Leopold; "it is not so nice as Tyrol; there is too much barrenness, and too much dazzling whiteness."
"Nevertheless," replied his uncle, "this is a fine country; the wine and olive oil are famous the world over, to say nothing of the fruit and flowers. If you did but stop to think about it, most of the fruit and flowers we have in Vienna out of season come from this region."
"But how can anything grow in a desert?"
"We shall soon see," replied his uncle. "Dalmatia looks baked, but it is extremely productive."
After some time, the soil began to grow more and more irregular. Great stones lay upon the surface, and immense fissures opened up at irregular distances.
"Now, my boy, can you call this a desert?" asked Herr Müller. "Here are the gardens of Dalmatia."
"The gardens?" exclaimed both children.