Just above the ruins a party of soldiers was bathing, a sentinel stood guard in front of a sentry-box, and a few rods further down men were washing horses, and women were beating clothes on the rocks. We turned our bow toward the bank at the ruined pier, when a sharp hail from the sentinel caused us to look up. "Keep off!" he commanded, in vigorous Roumanian. But we, seeing no fortifications anywhere, and having no more sinister intentions than the

mild pursuit of art, knew no reason why we should not go ashore where the natives were at work, and continued to paddle slowly toward the mud bank. "Keep off! keep out in the stream!" he yelled again. "Is there a war here?" we asked, with an attempt at humor. "No; but you sha'n't land! Keep off, or I'll shoot!" "Shoot away; you can't hit!" we retorted, believing it to be the idle threat of a soldier only half in earnest. But he grew more and more excited as we approached, and drawing a cartridge from his pouch, showed it to us, and pushed it into his rifle. Just at this moment the soldier whom we had seen running along the shore came up breathless, and took command of the military force, promptly ordering the sentry to cover us with his rifle, while the bathing soldiers might seize our canoes. We held off for a few moments, just out of reach, and then, thinking the farce had gone far enough, went ashore and surrendered ourselves to the corporal, the sentry, and the dozen half-naked soldiers.

Armed with two expensive and hitherto useless passports, we followed the corporal a long distance into the town to the headquarters, showed our papers to the officer of the day, who immediately gave us our liberty, with polite apologies for the annoyance his men had caused us. When we reached the canoes again we distributed cigarettes to the bathing party who had guarded our fleet, and sent a few up the bank to the belligerent sentinel, who did not scorn the gift from his recent enemy. A little Jew boy standing near, not having received his share of the cigarettes, remarked, with some feeling and unconscious humor, "If the sentinel had fired at you, I suppose you'd have given him cigars!"

Floating down a great loop of the river in a dry and yellow landscape, we recovered from the excitement of our first adventure with the military, and, as we went along, watched the chattering Servians harvesting on one shore, and the Roumanian women, in the simple costume of

7.4.M.

nets, towed their boats up against the stream, and, chattering all the while with incessant vigor, drifted down again as before. Almost the only houses to be seen on the Roumanian shore were the huts of the pickets, which occupied every point, and guarded every possible landing-place. We realized the fact but slowly, and only after some experience, that we were now under the eye of military supervision, from which we were not to escape until we should paddle out into the Black Sea.

At noon of the day following our introduction to the system of keeping the frontier in Roumania, we heard the sound of rifle-firing and the beating of drums in the Servian village of Brza Palanka, and on landing there found the place in the liveliest commotion. Scores of men and women were filling gourds at the wells, and hurrying away up the hill-side back of the town. Besides the burden of water, most of the women and a great crowd of children were carrying baskets of bread and cooked food, and kerchiefs full of grapes. The hot and dusty streets were

alive with peasants, mostly in white linen garments, with brilliant red sashes on the men and richly colored aprons on the women. Both sexes wore very clumsy sandals and heavy woollen socks, or legwrappings, bound to the ankle by thongs. While we were wondering at the extraordinary activity of the village, we heard the beat of a drum coming nearer and nearer, and soon a militia company of the wildest-looking men that ever carried a rifle came marching up at quick pace, and wheeling into a narrow lane, tramped along in a cloud of dust, and disappeared over the brow of the hill. other and then another company, each more savage-looking than the last, went through the same manoeuvres, and the whole population followed them, we among the rest. When we came out on the hill-top we saw before us the strangest and most barbaric encampment imaginable. The broad arid plateau was covered with shelters or great huts made of oak boughs, ranged around in a sort of quadrangle, enclosing a level space of

An

twenty-five or thirty acres. In the shad ows of these rude shelters were seated hundreds of men eating their mid-day meal, which was brought to them by the women and children, who, after the men were served, squatted on the dry turf a little distance away and ate their own frugal dinner. Across the great paradeground were two long heaps of straw in parallel lines, which were evidently the beds of the men at night. We understood, of course, that we were in the annual camp of the Servian militia, and were not surprised that our appearance caused some little interest and curiosity, as we were the only ones in European dress anywhere in sight. Besides, our costume would doubtless have excited comment anywhere, for Danube mud had so changed its tone and hard usage had so distorted its shape that it was now decidedly unique in general appearance. The camp guard halted us and inquired our business, which we, for want of a better answer, stated to be a visit to the captain, trusting to the probability of there being a number of officers of that rank. The guard seemed perfectly satisfied with our reply, and did not even ask which captain we wanted to see, but let us pass at once. We made the same explanation to various inquisitive militia-men, who seemed to resent our sketching, and we slowly made our way into the enclosure. We had

eaten nothing since sunrise, and had paddled twenty miles or more, therefore, after our first curiosity was satisfied, we thought we would better return to the village for luncheon, and come back to see the afternoon drill. But the moment we began to move away, the suspicions of the whole camp were aroused, and from all sides came a chorus of shouts and cries in what seemed to us very violent and angry tones. In another instant we were the centre of an excited throng of fierce looking rascals, all armed with knives, and several of them with rifles and bayonets. Explanations were now futile, and, indeed, quite impossible, for our small stock of Servian words was soon exhausted, and after making several attempts to push past the men who blocked our path, we finally yielded, and were marched off to the hut which was apparently the headquarters. Here we found two officers of the regular army, a captain and a lieutenant, who had charge of the encampment, the former being, as we now understood, the only captain in the camp, and therefore the one whom we had declared we were about to visit.

The officers were naturally astonished at seeing two men in boating dress appear at the door of their hut, for the militia-men stood off at a respectful distance and sent us ahead to announce ourselves; however, they received us with great