Methley and I had English saddles, but I think we should have done
just as well (I should certainly have seen more of the country) if
we had adopted saddles like that of our Tatar, who towered so
loftily over the scraggy little beast that carried him. In taking
thought for the East, whilst in England, I had made one capital hit
which you must not forget--I had brought with me a pair of common
spurs. These were a great comfort to me throughout my horseback
travels, by keeping up the cheerfulness of the many unhappy nags
that I had to bestride; the angle of the Oriental stirrup is a very
poor substitute for spurs.

The Ottoman horseman, raised by his saddle to a great height above
the humble level of the back that he bestrides, and using an
awfully sharp bit, is able to lift the crest of his nag, and force
him into a strangely fast shuffling walk, the orthodox pace for the
journey. My comrade and I, using English saddles, could not easily
keep our beasts up to this peculiar amble; besides, we thought it a
bore to be FOLLOWED by our attendants for a thousand miles, and we
generally, therefore, did duty as the rearguard of our "grand
army"; we used to walk our horses till the party in front had got
into the distance, and then retrieve the lost ground by a gallop.

We had ridden on for some two or three hours; the stir and bustle
of our commencing journey had ceased, the liveliness of our little
troop had worn off with the declining day, and the night closed in
as we entered the great Servian forest. Through this our road was
to last for more than a hundred miles. Endless, and endless now on
either side, the tall oaks closed in their ranks and stood gloomily
lowering over us, as grim as an army of giants with a thousand