These suspicions were confirmed by the official who had ‘wanted’ us. After re-inspecting our bujuruldu, he informed us, by means of an Italian interpreter, that we were on no account to go to Foinica (where was another Franciscan monastery), as we intended; that a Zaptieh was attached to us, and an Arabà provided to take us straight to Serajevo. So there was nothing for it but to start as if we acquiesced in the arrangement, without, however, in the least relinquishing our intentions. To the last we were taken (so it turned out) for Austrian emissaries, and it was thought desirable to prevent us from holding any communication with the Roman Catholic monks of Foinica.
So we started on our way, ostensibly bound for Serajevo, in a covered waggon, escorted by a Zaptieh, and left Travnik unmolested. The four hours’ jolt to Busovac, where we were to sleep, gave us sufficient experience of what a Turkish high-road can be. To cross a bridge was like driving over a row of fallen trunks, with the additional pleasing uncertainty as to whether or not the whole would give way and let us down into the stream below. As to the water-culverts over the lesser brooks, they were almost always broken in, but the horses were equal to the occasion, and always succeeded in jumping the cart over—which itself was springless. At one part we came to a newly-made piece of road, and this was like passing over a succession of heaps of unbroken stones. A precipice yawned at one side, and another cliff rose sheer above us on the other, so that when in the middle of this strait we came upon a monster waggon which had foundered in the vain attempt to make use of the new piece of road, and had taken root as it seemed among large blocks of rock, a serious stoppage occurred; and it was not until after considerable delay that all the levering and pushing and pulling, of our horses, ourselves, our driver, our Zaptieh, and the crew of the foundered waggon, could extricate our cart—which here performed the most extraordinary antics.
But here we are safe at our destination at last; nor are we sorry to have arrived, for our Zaptieh has shown unmistakable signs of insubordination. Once, to our great indignation, he swooped on some unfortunate rayahs, and, before we had time to prevent it, ‘requisitioned’ them of some bread, for which, to the great surprise of all parties, we paid, as the quickest way out of the difficulty: besides this, our escort and driver thought themselves privileged to drink raki at our expense at every Han they came to, till we took effectual means to disabuse them of the notion that we were going to pay for it!
The country we have been passing through is not so rich as the Possávina and the lower vale of Bosna; the crops generally were poor, the mountains were covered with less stately forest growth, and indeed out of the valleys the trees here became quite scrubby. Thus there is a comparative want of softness about the mountain scenery; the conical limestone hills, with their scrubby overgrowth, looking like frozen folds of green drapery, Düreresque in its stiffness and angularity.
Busovac, where we are stopping for the night, is a village of about 700 inhabitants, with a couple of mosques rising among low houses, each in its little enclosure with the shed for kukurutz, the small dwelling-house, the square hearth and fire-dogs, all as in Slavonia and Croatia, but on a smaller scale. Hearing that there was a Roman Catholic chapel here, we asked to be allowed to see it, and were conducted by the priest through some backyards and houses to a small shed, where a plain room was fitted up with an altar, a few crucifixes, and pictures. The priest conversed with us in Latin; he also knew a smattering of German. He was inclined to do full justice to the tolerance of the Turks, who, he said, did not molest the Latin Christians here in any way.
We entered our Han—which is a fair sample of the ordinary house of the better-off Mahometans in Bosnia—by an archway on either side of which are the stables and abodes of menials, and found ourselves in a court (a garden in private houses) from which we ascended by an out-door staircase to the Divanhané, a gallery running the whole length of the house, and overlooking the yard or garden, but secured from view by a lattice. From the middle of this a kind of transept runs out to the front of the house with a bay overlooking the street, and this recess is spread with mats and cushions for the usual mid-day siesta. On either side of this central hall are the rooms with doors opening on to the gallery. We found ours fairly clean, our Hanjia obliging, and altogether fared very well. Our repast consisted of a soup compounded of milk and rice, very fine trout, a chicken very well roasted, and succeeded by kaimak[211] with little bits of sugar floating in it—all excellent; so that it is possible to dine even in Bosnia.
Next morning we discovered to our sincere pleasure that our Zaptieh had levanted, so that we had less difficulty than we anticipated in adhering to our original itinerary and defying the Travnik authorities. We drove a few miles further on the Serajevo road in our waggon, and then, stopping at a roadside Han, informed our driver that we had no further need of his services. He seemed at first considerably taken aback at this coup, but as we gave him all that was his due had he carried us to the capital, we left him well satisfied. Our next care was to secure a guide over the mountains to Foinica, nor were we long in finding a peasant willing to conduct us. He only asked us to excuse him a few minutes, and presently returned with a serviceable cutlass—rather an ominous beginning to our mountain journey! Our way ran along a gradually ascending footpath winding over the undulations of the Zahorina Planina, and through beechy defiles—the trees not indeed so fine as those of Troghìr and Mazulia Planina, but very beautiful. The flowers and ferns were much the same as we had seen before, but the beech-fern now for the first time became plentiful, and so surpassing rich were the tufts of male fern that we seemed to be passing through a gigantic fernery. Now and then we emerged on glades and a few scattered fields, with huts surrounded by fruit-trees, and there were plenty of wild walnut-trees on the mountain itself.
As we ascended the main ridge we detected the first sign of the wealth stored up in the bowels of the mountain, from the mineral taste of the springs; and as we began to descend the southern slopes, the same cause seemed to blight the growth of beech and oak, and in some parts the mountain-side showed bare, while streaks of mica rock glittered like silver in the sunshine. The soil itself from a pale brown took rich ochreous hues, so that the range was not without its golden streaks as well. Here and there our path was strewn with bits of crystalline quartz, and we picked up pieces of iron, lead, and even—we believe—silver ore; and here and there fragments of noble crystals. At the summit our guide had left us, and a steep and rough descent brought us to the village of Foinica.
On our way down we passed some sooty-looking blacksmiths, and a mule laden with their stock-in-trade—theirs being the chief industry of the village. We crossed a bridge over a stream, and were threading our way along one of the narrow lanes of Foinica, when a hue and cry was raised behind us, of which at first we took no notice—on principle—till the sound of hurried footsteps close behind us told us that the demonstration, of whatever kind it was, could no longer be conveniently ignored; and, looking round, we discovered a Zaptieh making after us, and flourishing a pistol in a warlike manner. Then it was that we drew forth our magic pass, and there being someone by who could read it—an extraordinary occurrence—we were allowed to proceed on our way. As, however, we were attempting to ascend to the monastery, a barrack-like pile perched on a rocky platform above the town, another Zaptieh stopped us and bade us accompany him to the Konak, where we found a man who spoke Italian, and after a long preliminary ‘interviewing’ were told that the Kaïmakàm[212] desired to see us.