ABSTRACT
Imagine a long line of bare rugged limestone cliffs, the hindermost points rising to several thousand feet. Through these the river Cettina, after running parallel to the seashore for no less than ten miles vainly seeking an outlet, has torn its way, forming a gorge exactly the shape and size of the Breche du Roland in the Pyrenees, but to which the background gives more the appearance of an Afghan pass. On the right bank of the river lies AIrnissa. It is not noteworthy in appearance, the old walls being gone. The Cettina, by forming extensive shoals all·round its mouth, has cut the town off from the possibility of access for steamers, which can only lie half a mile to the southward. Across the stream is an extensive building half hidden by fine trees, from which green marshy meadows run down to the river mouth.
