Page:The nomads of the Balkans, an account of life and customs among the Vlachs of Northern Pindus (1914).djvu/29

 by the roadside were the only sign of life till we reached Pleshia, a miserable Hashiot village. This consists of some half-dozen buildings of wattle and daub looking far less like human habitations than dissipated pigstyes. When we passed through Pleshia in August 1912 it was totally deserted.

The long procession of mules slowly climbs the ridge beyond this village, and here our fellow-travellers obtain their first glimpse of their native land. There to the north west towering over the craggy ridge of Spileo are the great peaks of Pindus, Zmolku and Vasilitsa, still covered with snow, and half hidden in clouds. The first sight of their home naturally caused great excitement amongst young and old.

“Have you mountains in your country ? ” “Yes, but our mountains are not so high.” “Our mountains are covered with pines and beeches.” “In England pines and beeches grow in the plains.” Chorus of children and others somewhat incredulous, “They say that they have pines and beeches in the plains, but their mountains are not so high as ours.”

At 10.30 we halt in a clearing by a spring for the usual midday rest, and at 3 p.m. start again so as to reach the scene of the fair before nightfall. The country continues to be thickly wooded until just beyond Eleftherokliori, a Hashiot village, somewhat larger than Pleshia, but equally filthy, where after a sharp descent we reach the banks of the Venetiko river, the most considerable tributary of the Haliakmon in this district. At this point there is a stone bridge over the river, but so broken that the mules had to be led across, which is usually known as the bridge of Ghrevena, though the town lies on another small river an hour to the north. The Vlachs however call the bridge Punyea di Pushanlu, the Bridge of Pushan. As all had to dismount when crossing the bridge, and since there was some excitement over the prospect of reaching the town soon, our caravan unconsciously assumed the order usual when approaching a resting-place. First came a troop of boys of all ages from eight to fourteen hurrying on on foot, and eager to be in