moustaches being allowed to grow as long as
they will, give a peculiar wild air to their dark,
lowering countenances, and adds an expression
very military and ferocious. It is not
till you get quite close up to them and
examine their faces, till you have grown
perfectly familiar with the ferocious moustaches,
that the lion-look wears off, and the mere
dull, listless, sulky lout is plainly revealed
beneath it.

After we have passed some time smoking
and drinking coffee, which occupation is the
indispensable preliminary to all Turkish
affairs, our Tatar (courier) comes in, dripping
and steaming, to tell us that he has at last
routed out a man who has something to do
with one of the boats, and who will undertake
to find his companions in the course of the
day, and transport us into Wallachia for the
consideration of a golden ducat, or about nine
shillings and sixpence of our money. We
agree to the proposal of the boatman who has
thus been discovered, and, when our Tatar
has duly shouted from the platform our
acquiescence in this arrangement, he returns
and sits down to enjoy a pipe and to join us
in the agreeable pastime of waiting upon
Providence meanwhile. He is a Tatar who
has had so much to do with Britons, that he
has at last acquired something of our air and
manners. Very wonderful and instructive it
is to see him displaying the attainments he
has gradually picked up amongst us. Reesto
is his name, Turkey is his nation; Belgrade
is his dwelling-place (when he is at home,
which is but seldom). By a long intercourse
with Englishmen, and those usually of a
pretty highly connected sort, my friend
Reesto has acquired, not only a little English,
but he speaks it with a fashionable accent
really remarkable to hear. I once knew an
Arab who had learnt the British language in
the county of Connaught, but I am bound to
say his attainments were not more extraordinary
than those of Reesto. Then my friend
has a red face and a certain bluff free-and-
easiness of bearing which are also English in
their way.

Upon the whole, we are very much entertained
with him, and his discourse suffices to
pass an hour or two not disagreeably while
we are still detained at the coffee-house. He
lie can sit on horseback for five days and
five nights at a time, merely dismounting at
the post houses. In summer he eats bread
and grapes on the road; in winter he substitutes
olives for grapes. He seldom takes any
other food. He can sleep in his saddle as
easily as in. bed. He is fifty-eight years old.
He has passed all his life travelling. He
finds no diminution of his strength. He feels
indeed a little stiffer, but not much, and
as hearty, only he can never remain
long in one place. He was employed for a
long time by the British Government. He
made a good deal of money at that time.
Most people do. He made, indeed, about
three thousand pounds of our money; but
the devil was at his elbow, and prompted
him to build a fine hotel near Belgrade, for
the accommodation of the queen's messengers
who then passed that way. He fitted it up
very expensively, and just as it was finished,
the queen's messengers ceased to go that
way. So did most other people, and he found
that he had sunk his capital in the No per
cents. Poor Reesto! Thou wert not formed
for a moneyed man, and art justly reproved
for having wished to barter thy merry
content for gold.

There was some difficulty in wading down
to the boat when it was ready at last, and
still more difficulty in getting our luggage
together. Many of the Bulgarian agricultural
gentlemen cast a sly glance at our
effects, and I noticed that a short heavy stock
whip I carried, attracted such very marked
attention that it appeared only courteous to
leave it behind me, and I did so. I wonder
how many shoulders have smarted beneath
its application since my departing. I remember
that its new owner eyed it with a joyful
appreciation of its customary uses in Turkey,
which was cheerful and suggestive to a
degree very far beyond description.

As soon as our friends by the water side
discovered that we had hired a boat and paid
for it, they began to flock into it in such
numbers that we had some difficulty in keeping
our seats, and were obliged to spend a
considerable time in reducing our volunteer
companions to a cipher at all safe; for the
wind was blowing almost a hurricane, and
the sullen angry look of the Danube was by
no means inviting. We got off at last, however,
with an egg-merchant, a Jew pedlar, an
old woman, and a little cluster of idlers who
sat together at the prow, waiting upon
Providence. We had also four rowers, each
manoeuvring a single oar, so that the size of
our barge may be imagined.

Our boatmen do not sit down and row like
English rowers. They could not move our
clumsy barge an inch by such a process.
They stand up, therefore, and leaning
forward, thrust their oars as far back in the
water as possible; then they plant their
right feet firmly against a footboard made for
the purpose, and throw the whole strength of
their arms, and the weight of their bodies
into the stroke. If one of them happens to
be ever so little out of time, he gets a blow on
the chest, enough to fell an ox, from the
sudden impetus given to the boat by the
rest, and his feet are up in the air, before you
can say Jack Robinson. At every stroke
the rowers make a sound in taking in their
breath like that which emanates from the stout
chests of Irish labourers engaged in paving a
street. There is a good deal of incidental
practical joking going on also. I notice that
one of the rowers appears to be especially the
butt of the rest. He is a chubby young lout,
with a scanty red beard, and I think he is an