"Yes."
"But I see nothing but great ravines," said Leopold.
"They are not ravines, child, but great cracks opened up in the swampy soil which has burst asunder from the terrific heat of the sun. But that is what saves the country from starvation; on the bottom of these fissures are deposits of fertile soil washed into them by the rains, and here the peasant plants his crops. Here you see one too narrow to plant anything in, but over there," and he pointed to the immediate right, "is one which stretches a mile or more."
"How interesting!" exclaimed Ferdinand. "But what a queer place to plant crops."
At the farm-house, a low, uninviting hut with thatch roof, they stopped to fill their flasks. The farmer led them to the rear of the house where was a huge tank of stagnant water.
"But we cannot drink that," said Herr Runkel, astonished.
"It is all there is," remarked the peasant. "In Dalmatia we drink rain water. It is all we have. There are no streams in Dalmatia except in the mountains, and often those are underground."
"Underground?" cried Ferdinand. "How do you get the water then?"
"Oh, the water runs along in the limestone until it meets with some obstruction, or when it deems it time to appear upon the surface, then it will flow on in a fine stream for some distance, when perhaps it will disappear again for awhile."