TUZLA, Bosnia-Herzegovina (AP) _ Amira Mehmedovic last saw her husband in Bosnian Serb custody. She heard the screams of women pulled by Serb soldiers off her refugee bus. She saw the body of a young woman like her, who hanged herself from a tree.

For the survivors of ``ethnic cleansing,'' the horrors they have witnessed make life almost too hard to bear.

For some, the burden becomes too great: Suicide is the only release. Relief workers say an unusually large number of suicides has been reported among the survivors of Srebrenica, a Muslim enclave overrun by the Serbs two weeks ago.

``When people are pushed beyond the limits of endurance, it happens,'' said Peter E. Heiberg, an official of the Danish Refugee Council, which focuses on the psychological and social health of the refugees.

The Srebrenica refugees have reported widespread atrocities, including mass killings and rapes. Many were fleeing for the second or third time, having come to Srebrenica when their villages were purged by Bosnian Serbs.

Heiberg said Sunday that three people have taken their lives at the tent encampment at Tuzla's air strip. About 6,500 people from Srebrenica are housed there.

And refugees reported witnessing several suicides on the trek from the enclave through Serb territory. One man shot himself through the chin, another through the mouth, they said.

Doctors at the camp report sudden hysterical outbursts, collapses for no apparent physiological reason, refusal to eat, depression. The summer heat, food shortage and constant worry over the fate of missing loved ones intensify the stress.

Holding Husein, her 8-month-old boy, Mrs. Mehmedovic, 20, described how her family fled their village near Srebrenica two weeks ago. They reached Potocari, a few miles north, where they slept outside a U.N. base. But the Serbs arrived and took away her husband, Mujo.

``I was crying, screaming, hugging him,'' she said.

The Serbs put her and others on buses. On the road, they repeatedly demanded money and took young women off the buses.

On July 13, the Serbs halted her bus and pointed out a group of men on the roadside with hands behind their hands. She recognized her husband, who kept his head bowed but lifted his gaze. Their eyes met, but they said nothing out of fear.

``The Serbs told us to look at them one last time,'' Mrs. Mehmedovic said.

``I almost had a nervous breakdown a few days ago. What is keeping me going is my child. I have to be strong for my baby,'' she said, putting him to her breast to nurse.

A short walk down the tarmac, animated children sat on blankets painting with watercolors or drawing with felt-tipped markers.

Nearly every picture was of a house, all in bright yellows, reds, pinks, blues and greens.

``It is a good sign,'' said Sadeta Malkic, a teacher working for the Unicef program that provided the play center. ``There is still some spirit in them. They still want to live, to play with other children.''

Elvisa Alic, 10, colored in yellow blades of grass next to her house. ``I had lots of flowers around my house,'' she said. ``That's why I'm painting them.''

She'd like to paint her dog Bobi, but isn't good at dogs.

``He's still there watching over our home,'' she said.

The happy pictures may not last.

The kids are blocking out the negative experiences as a way of coping, said Gete Bjerring, a psychotherapist with the Danish Refugee Council who has examined the drawings of refugee children.

Later, Bjerring said, they likely will draw men, machine-guns, blood and bodies.