"
_Author_. "Servia is certainly making progress; there can be no
spectacle more delightful to a rightly constituted mind, than that of
a hopeful young nation approaching its puberty. You Servians are in a
considerable minority here in Ushitza. I hope you live on good terms
with the Moslems."
_Natchalnik_. "Yes, on tolerable terms; but the old ones, who remember
the former abject position of the Christians, cannot reconcile
themselves to my riding on horseback through the bazaars, and get
angry when the Servians sing in the woods, or five off muskets during
a rejoicing."
The Vayvode now arrived with a large company of Moslems, and we
proceeded on foot to see the castle, our road being mostly through
those gardens, on which the old town stood, and following the side of
the river, to the spot where the high banks almost close in, so as to
form a gorge. We ascended a winding path, and entered the gate, which
formed the outlet of a long, gloomy, and solidly built passage.
A group of armed militia men received us as we entered, and on
regaining the daylight within the walls, we saw nothing but the usual
spectacle of crumbling crenellated towers, abandoned houses, rotten
planks, and unserviceable dismounted brass guns.
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