ABSTRACT
THERE is a fine old castle at Almissa, which I fancy few people have seen. It is invisible from the town, and even from the sea it only looks like another of the towers that crown the cliffs. To see it one must either go up to it (over a thousand feet), or, better still, climb one of the higher hills facing it. The way I first came to see it was this. The first day I felt fit for a walk again, I left camp mther late, a little before four p.m. It was a Sunday, by the way; but in Dalmatia, after mass has been duly attended, we make but little difference between that and any other day. The afternoon was close and dull, with frequent thunderstorms. I went through the pass on the north side, and climbed the hill which closes in the pass when it is seen from the sea. It was hard work, being mostly covered with hill vineyards; but when several hundred feet were left behind I reached an oak wood, from whence a splendid view of the ruin as well as of the valley was to be had. A couple of magnificent white-tailed eagles were
wheeling above me, and, indeed, Almissa seems to be a paradise for birds of prey.
