National Geographic : 1970 May
of their art; the cutting took thirty hours. In the Croatian village of Hlebine, close to the border with Hungary, I met an artist in a different medium-wood. By day, said Mar tin Hegedusic, he works in his fields; by night he carves with knife, chisel, and mallet. Self taught, he takes two months or more on a figure, and for each he composes a song. I passed a long afternoon in the 45-year old artist's living-bedroom, enthralled as he held his two- and three-foot-high pieces on his knee and softly sang. "Tonight he will feast," he crooned, and his triumphant "Fisherman" with his fine catch bespoke all fishermen. "They are afraid of their wives," he recited; and so his wine-bibbers were, caterwauling bravely as they lurched. And the mother ringed by her brood of seven children? "She will do anything for them; she will beg if she must...." Where man's art ends, nature's begins. If any one thing spells Yugoslavia to a grateful world, it can only be the Dalmatian littoral 618 (pages 612-13). Mostly in Croatia, this blessed and smiling strip of land more than 300 miles long nestles between the warm Adriatic and an awesome backdrop of spectral limestone mountains.* Tourists Flock to Dalmatian Coast Yugoslavs have always looked to the sea. They build ships in Pula, Rijeka, and Split, and set their nets for sardines and tuna in the azure coastal waters. Today the long Dalma tian seashore has become an international playground; tourists find it avacation bargain. Nearly five million visitors-175,000 of them Americans-filled fine new hotels last year all along the spectacular coast. Like me, they paid the equivalent of a mere $8 or so a day for an oceanfront single room, with shower and breakfast, and enjoyed full-course din ners, with wine, for only three or four dollars. I often heard a tribute, ascribed to George *Gilbert M. Grosvenor wrote of "Yugoslavia's Win dow on the Adriatic" in NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC for February 1962.