THE LUCK OF
THIRTEEN

MR.&MRS, JAN GORDON

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THE LUCK OF THIRTEEN

JO AT THE MAl'lIINK ( ll'N.

THE
LUCK OF THIRTEEN
WANDERINGS AND FLIGHT THROUGH
MONTENEGRO AND SERBIA

bY
MR. and MRS. JAN GORDON

WITH PHOTOGRAPHS AND A MAP
TAIL PIECES BY CORA J. GORDON
COLOUR PLATES BV JAN GORDON

LONDON
SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE
1916
[AU rights rcieriicd~\

PRINTED BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES

Ed i e
S 14-

CONTENTS
raA"BE PACK
Introduction  1
II. Nish and Salonika  10
III. Off to Montenegro  20
IV. Across the Frontiep.  31
V. The Montenegrin Front on the Drina . 47
VI. Northern Montenegro  66
VII. To Cettinje  85
VIII. The Lake of Scutari  99
IX. Scutari  105
X. The Highway of Montenegro .... 122
XI. Ipek, Dechani and a Harem . . . 145
XII. The Highway of Montenegro — II. . . . 169
XIII. Uskub  182
XIV. Mainly Retrospective  198
XV. Some Pages from Mr. Gordon's Diary . 213
XVI. Last Days at Vrntze  227
XVII. Kbalievo  244
XVIII. The Flight of Serbia  263
XIX. Novi Bazar  284
XX. The Unknown Road  299

vi CONTENTS
CHAPTER TAGE
XXI. The Flea-Pit  315
XXII. Andrievitza to Pod  328
XXIII. Into Albania  341
XXIV. "One more Ribber to cross" .... 359
Index  377

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

COLOURED PLATES
FACING PAGE
Jo at the Machine Gun  Frontispiece
The Ipek Pass in Winter  140
Retreating Ammunition Train  276
Albanian Mule-drivers Camping  354

HALF-TONE PLATES
Out-patients 
Shoeing Bullocks 
Peasant Women in Gala Costume, Nish .
Serb Convalescents at Uzhitze
Serb and Montenegrin Officers on the Drina
A Concealed Gun Emplacement on the Drina
Peasant Women of the Mountains .
A Village of North Montenegro
Jo and Mr. Suma in the Scutari Bazaar .
Christian Women hiding from the Photographer
Scutari — Bazaar and Old Venetian Fortress
Disembarkation of a Turkish Bride
Governor Petrovitch and his Daughter in their State Barge
In the Bazaar of Ipek ....
Street Coffee Seller in Ipek

4
4
20
2858 58
76
76
110
112112114114
162
162

Vlll

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

A Wine Market in Uskub
Big Gun passing through Krusevatz
In-patients ....
Broken Aeroplane in the Arsenal at Krag
Where the " Plane " fell .
House near the Arsenal damaged by Bombs
Peasant Women leaving their Village .
Serb Family by the Roadside .
The Flight of Serbia ....

Unloading the Benedetto, San Giovanni di Medua

FACING PAGS
. 184
. 194
. 202
. 220
. 220 220
. 260
. 260
. 266
. 364

Route Map of the Authors' Wanderings .

At end of text

THE LUCK OF THIRTEEN
INTRODUCTION
It is curious to follow anything right back to its
inception, and to discover from what extraordinary
causes results are due. It is strange, for instance,
to find that the luck of the thirteen began right back
at the time when Jan, motoring back from Uzhitze
down the valley of the Morava, coming fastish
round a corner, plumped right up to the axle in
a slough of clinging wet sandy mud. The car
almost shrugged its shoulders as it settled down,
and would have said, if cars could speak, " Well,
what are you going to do about that, eh ? " It
was about the 264th mud hole in which Jan's
motor had stuck, and we sat down to wait for
the inevitable bullocks. But it was a Sunday
and bullocks were few; the wait became
tedious, and in the intervals of thought which
alternated with the intervals of exasperation,
Jan realized that he needed a holiday.
To be explicit. Jan was acting as engineer to
Dr. Berry's Serbian Mission from the Royal Free
B

2 INTRODUCTION
Hospital :— Jan Gordon, and Jo is his wife, Cora
Josephine Gordon, artist, and V.A.D.
We had a six months of work behind us. We
had seen the typhus, and had dodged the dreaded
louse who carries the infection, we had seen the
typhus dwindle and die with the onrush of summer.
We had helped to clean and prepare six hospitals
at Vrntze or Vrnjatchka Banja — whichever you
prefer. We had helped Mr. Berry, the great
surgeon, to ventilate his hospitals by smashing the
windows— one had been a child again for a moment.
Jo had learned Serbian and was assisting Dr. Helen
Boyle, the Brighton mind specialist, to run a large
and flourishing out-patient department to which
tuberculosis and diphtheria — two scourges of Serbia
— came in their shoals. We had endeavoured to
ward off typhoid by initiating a sort of sanitary
vigilance committee, having first sacked the chief
of police : we had laid drains, which the chief
Serbian engineer said he would pull up as soon as
we had gone away. We had helped in the plans
of a very necessary slaughter-house, which Mr.
Berry was going to present to the town. There
was an excuse for Jan's desire. The English
papers had been howhng about the typhus months
after the disease had been chased out by
English, French, and American doctors, who had
disinfected the country till it reeked of formahn

JO 3
and sulphur ; shoals of devoted Enghshwomen were
still pouring over, generously ready to risk their
fives in a danger which no longer existed. Our
own unit, which had dwindled to a comfortable —
almost a family — number, with Mr. Berry as father,
had been suddenly enlarged by an addition of ten.
These ten complicated things, they all naturally
wanted work, and we had cornered all the jobs.
So, after the fatigues of February, March, and
April, and the heat of June, Jan quite decided on
that Uzhitze mud patch that a holiday would do
httle harm to himself, and good to everybody else.
Then, however, came the problem of Jo. Jo is a
socialistic sort of a person with conservative instincts.
She has the feminine ability to get her wheels on
a rail and run comfortably along till Jan appears
like a big railway accident and throws the scenery
about; but once the resolution accomplished she
pursues the idea with a determination and ferocity
which leaves Jan far in the background.
Jo had her out-patient department. Every
morning, wet or fine, crowds of picturesque
peasants would gather about the httle side door
of our hospital, women in blazing coloured hand-
woven skirts, like Joseph's coat, children in un
imaginable rags, but with the inevitable belt tightly
bound about their little stomachs, men covered
with tuberculous sores and so forth, on some days

4 INTRODUCTION
as many as a hundred. Jo, having finished
breakfast, had then to assume a commanding
air, and to stamp down the steps into the crowd,
sort out the probable diphtheria cases— this by long
practice,— forbid anybody to approach them under
pain of instant disease, get the others into a vague
theatre queue, which they never kept, and then
run back into the office to assist the doctor and to
translate. All this, repeated daily, was highly
interesting of course, and so when Jan suggested
the tour she " didn't want to do it."
But authority was on Jan's side. Jo had had
a mild accident : a diphtheria patient fled to avoid
being doctored, they often did, and Jo had chased
after her ; she tripped, fell, drove her teeth through
her lower lip, and for a moment was stunned.
When they caught the patient they found that it
was the wrong person — butthat is beside the subject.
Dr. Boyle thought that Jo had had a mild con
cussion and threw her weight at Jan's side. Dr.
Berry was quite agreeable, and gave us a commis
sion to go to Salonika to start with and find a disin-
f ector which had gone astray. Another interpreter
was found, so Jo took leave of her out-patients.
*****
In Serbia it was necessary to get permission to
move. Jan went to the major for the papers.
There were crowds of people on the major's steps,

FAREWELL 5
and Jan learned that all the peasants and loafers
had been called in to certify, so that nobody should
avoid their military service. Later we parted,
taking two knapsacks. Dr. Boyle and Miss Dicken
son were very generous, giving us large supphes
of chocolate, Brand's essence, and corned beef for
our travels, and we had two boxes of ** compressed
luncheons," black horrible- looking gluey tabloids
which claim to be soup, fish, meat, vegetables and
pudding in one swallow.
The Austrian prisoners bade us a sad farewell,
but many friends accompanied us to the station,
and the rotund major and his rounder wife did us
the hke honour. Our major was a queer mixture:
he was jolly because he was fat, and he was stern
because he had a beaky nose, and in any inter
view one had first to ascertain whether the stomach
or the nose held the upper hand, so to speak.
With the wife one was always sure — she had a snub
nose. On this occasion the major furiously boxed
the Austrian prisoner coachman's ears, telling us
that he was the best he had ever had. The un
fortunate driver was a picture of rueful pleasure.
The two plump dears stood waving four plump
hands till we had rumbled round the corner of the
landscape. In the train to Nish it was intensely hot. We
had sixteen or seventeen fellow-passengers in our

6 INTRODUCTION
third-class wooden-seated carriage — all the firsts
had been removed, because they could not be
disinfected— and the windows, with the exception
of two, had been screwed tightly down. Every time
we stood up to look at the landscape somebody
slipped into our seat, and we were continually
sitting down into unexpected laps. Expostulations,
apologies, and so on. Somebody had gnawed a
piece from one of the wheels, and we lurched
through the scenery with a banging metaUic
clangour which made conversation difficult, in
spite of which Jo astonished the natives by her
colloquial and fluent Serbian. We had an enormous
director of a sanitary department and a plump
wife, evidently risen, but fat people rise in Serbia
automatically like balloons. We had three meagre
old gentlemen, one unshaven for a week, one
whiskered since twenty years with Piccadilly
weepers hke a stage butler; some ultra fashion
able girls and men ; and a dear old dumb woman
wearing three belts, who had been a former
outpatient ; and several sticky f amilies of children.
The old gentlemen took a huge interest in Jo.
They drew her out in Serbian, and at every sentence
turned each to the other and elevated their hands,
ejaculating " kako ! " (how !) in varying terms of
admiration and flattery.
The American has not yet ousted the Turk

EN ROUTE 7
from Serbia, and the bite from our wheel banged
off the revolutions of our sedate passing. Trster-
nik's church — modern but good taste — gleamed
hke a jewel in the sun against the dark hills. On
either hand were maize fields with stalks as tall
as a man, their feathery tops veihng the intense
green of the herbage with a film, russet hke cobwebs
spun in the setting sun. There were plum orchards
— for the manufacture of plum brandy — so thick
with fruit that there was more purple than green
in the branches, and between the trunks showed
square white ruddy-roofed hovels with great squat
tile-decked chimneys. Some of the houses were
painted with decorations of bright colours, vases of
flowers or soldiers, and on one was a detachment of
crudely drawn horsemen, dark on the white walls,
meant to represent the heroes of old Serbian poetry.
To Krusevatz the valley broadened, and the
sinking sun tinted the widening maize-tops till the
fields were great squares of gold. We had no
lights in the train, and presently dusk closed down,
seeming to shut each up within his or her own mind.
The hills grew very dark and distant, and on the
faint rising mist the trees seemed to stand about
with their hands in their pockets hke vegetable
Charhe Chaplins.
A junction, and a rush for tables at the httle
out-of-door restaurant. In the country from which

8 INTROD uuxiuin
we have just come all seemed peace, but here in
truth was war. Passing shadowy in the faint
hghts were soldiers ; soldiers crouched in heaps in
the dark corners of the station ; yet more soldiers
and soldiers again huddled in great square box
trucks or open waggons waiting patiently for the
train which was four or five hours late. There
were women with them, wives or sisters or
daughters, with great heavy knapsacks and stolid
unexpressive faces.
While we were dreaming of this romance of war,
and of the coming romance of our own tour, ra
fittle man dumped himself at our table, explained
that he had a pain in his kidneys, and started an
interminable story about his wife and a dog. He
was Jan's devoted admirer, and declared that Jan
had performed a successful operation upon him,
though Jan is no surgeon, and had never set eyes
upon the man before.
Georgevitch rescued us. Georgevitch was fat,
tall, young and genial, and was mihtary storekeeper
at Vrntze. He was an ideal storekeeper and looked
the part, but he had been a comitaj. He had
roamed the country with belts full of bombs and
holsters full of pistols, he and 189 others, with
two loaves of bread per man and then " Ever
Forwards." Of the 189 others only 22 were
left, and one was a patient at our hospital where

STALLACH 9
we called him the " Velika Dete " or " big child,"
because of his sensibihty. With Georgevitch was
a dark woman with keen sparkling eyes. Alone,
this woman had run the typhus barracks in Vrntze
until the arrival of the Enghsh missions. She was
a Montenegrin ; no Serbian woman could be found
courageous enough to undertake the task. After
struggling all the winter, she was taken ill about a
fortnight after the arrival of the Enghsh. The
Red Cross Mission took care of her and she recovered.
We left our bore still talking about his wife and
the dog, and fled to their table, where we chatted
till our train arrived. We found a coupe" — a carriage
with only one long seat — the exigencies of which
compelled Jan to he all night with Jo's boots on
his face, and we so slept as well as we were able.

CHAPTER II
NISH AND SALONDXA
To our dismay a rare thing happened — our train
was punctual, and we arrived in Nish at four
o'clock. It was cold and misty. The station was
desolate and the town asleep. Around us in the
courtyard ragged soldiers were lying with their
heads pillowed on brightly striped bags. A nice
old woman who had asked Jo how old she was,
what relation Jan was to her, whether they had
children, and where she had learnt Serbian, sud
denly lost all her interest in us and hurried off with
voluble friends whose enormous plaits around
their flat red caps betokened the respectable
middle- class women.
Piccadilly weepers vanished and a depressed
little quartet was left on the platform — our two
selves, a lean schoolmaster, and an egg-shaped
man who never spoke a word. We found a clerk
sitting in an office. He said we could not leave our
bags in his room, but as we made him own that we
could not put them anywhere else he looked the
other way while we dropped them in the corner.
In the faint mist of the early morning the great
10

NISH 11
overgrown village of one-storied houses seemed like
a real town buried up to its attics in fog. We
found a cafe which was shut, and sat waiting on
green chairs outside. Around us old men were
talking of the news in the papers. They said that
Bulgaria was making territorial demands, and as
the Balkan governments covet land above all
things they felt pessimistic as to whether Serbia
would concede anything, and said, shaking their
heads, " It will be another Belgium."
We celebrated the opening of the cafe by order
ing five Turkish coffees each, and the schoolmaster
and we alternately stood treat. Jo loaded up with
aspirin to deaden a toothache which was worrying
her. We spent a cynical morning in interviews with
people who were supposed to know about missing
luggage. Both they and we were aware that the
first hospital which got a wandering packing-case
froze on to it, and if inconvenient people came to
hunt for their property the dismayed and guilty
ones hurriedly painted the case, saying to each
other, " After all it's in a good cause, and it's
better than if it were stolen."
Then we went to see the powers who can say
" no " to those who want to do pleasant things, and
were handed an amendment to a plea for a tour
round Serbia, including the front, which we had

12 NISH AND SALONIKA
sent to them and which had been pigeon-holed
for a month.
" But we don't want to see a lot of monasteries,"
said Jan, as he gazed at a httle circle drawn round
the over-visited part of Serbia. The powers were
adamant and seemed to think they had done very
well for us. We went away sadly, for monasteries
had not been the idea at all.
Half an hour later we were pursuing an entirely
different object. We had discovered that Sir
Ralph Paget was housing about £1000 worth
of stores destined for Dr. Clemow's hospital — which
was in Montenegro — and which needed an escort.
He was somewhat puzzled at our altruistic anxiety
to take them off his hands, but was much reheved
at the thought that he could get rid of them.
We hurried to the station, rescued our knap
sacks under the nose of a new ofiicial who looked
very much surprised, and boarded the Enghsh rest
house near by. Enghsh people were sitting in
deck chairs outside the papier-mache house which
stood surrounded by a couple of tents and a
wooden kitchen in a field. Austrian prisoners
were preparing lunch, and we were introduced to
Seemitch the dog.
Though young, Seemitch was fat and exhibited
signs of a much-varied ancestry. The original
Seemitch, an important Serb with long gold teeth,

NISH 13
was very indignant that a dog, and such a dog,
should be called after him, so Sir Ralph arranged
that of the two other puppies one should be called
after him and the other after Mr. Hardinge his secre
tary. Thus the man Seemitch's dignity was restored.
At the station, to our great joy, we met two
American doctors from Zaichar. One we had
mourned for dead and were astonished to see him,
shadow-hke, stiff-kneed, and sitting uncomfort
ably on a chair in the middle of the platform.
Months before he had pricked himself with a
needle while operating on a gangrenous case, and
had since lain unconscious with blood-poisoning.
While we were cheering over his recovery, a
httle Frenchman slipped into our reserved com
partment, which was only a coupe, and had seized
the window seat. Jan found him lubricating his
mouth, already full of dinner, with wine from a
bottle. As he showed no signs of seeing reason from
the male, Jo tried feminine indignation. " That
seat is mine," she snapped to his back-tilted head.
" Good. I exact nothing," he said, wiping
his moustache upwards. She suggested that if
any exacting was to be done she possessed the
exclusive rights.
" Quel pays," he answered. Jo thought he
was casting aspersions on England and on her as
the nearest representative, and the air became

14 NISH AND SALONIKA
distinctly peppery. The Frenchman hurriedly ex
plained that he was alluding to Serbia, so they
buried the hatchet and became acquaintances.
* * * * *
Uskub, or Skoplje, and one hour to wait. All
about the great plains the mountains were just
growing ruddy with the dawn, and we gulped
boiling coffee at the station restaurant.
One of the American doctors seemed restless.
Some one had told him it was advisable to keep
an eye on the luggage. They began to shunt the
train, and soon he was stumbling about the sidings
in a resolute attempt not to lose sight of the
luggage van. We sympathetically wished him
good luck and walked past into the Turkish quarter,
adopted by two dogs which followed us all the way.
We had a hurried glimpse of queer-shaped, many-
coloured houses, trousered women, and a general
Turkishness. We returned to find our American friend
furious, full of the superior methods of luggage
registration in the States.
We had beer with him at the frontier, dehcious
cool stuff with a mollifying influence. He told
us he held the record for one month's hernia
operations in Serbia. We were later to meet his
rival, a Canadian doctor, in Montenegro.
Locked in the train, we awaited the medical

SALONIKA 15
examination, and sat feehng self-consciously
healthy. At last the Greek doctor opened the
door, glanced at a knapsack, and vanished. We
were certified healthy.
It was a beautiful dark blue night when we
arrived at Salonika. Crowds of people were dining
at httle tables which filled the streets off the quay,
in spite of the awful smells which came up from the
harbour. It is impossible to sleep late in Salonika. Soon
after dawn children possess the town — bootblacks,
paper-sellers, perambulating drapers' shops ; all
children crying their wares noisily. The only
commodity that the children don't peddle is under
taken by mules laden with glass fronted cases hang
ing on each side and which are filled with meat.
We breakfasted in the street, revelhng in the
early morning and shooing away the children,
who never gave us a moment's grace. In self-
defence we had our boots blacked, for the ambulating
bootblack molests no longer the owner of a well-
polished pair of boots. It is queer to walk about
in a town where one-third of the population is only
pecuniarily interested in the momentary appearance
of feet and never look at a face, hke the man
with the muckrake with eyes glued on hfe as it
is led two inches from the ground.
When we had finished searching for disinfectors

16 NISH AND SALONIKA
and dentists we wandered up the hill through the
romantic streets. Jan sketched busily, but tooth
ache had rather sapped Jo's industry, and she
generally found some large stone to sit on, whence
to contemplate. An old woman's face, peering round the door
way, discovered her sitting on the doorstep, a
Greek dustman gazing stupidly at her.
In two minutes they were talking hard. The
old woman was a Bulgarian, but they were able
to understand each other. What Jo told the old
woman was translated to the dustman, and when
Jan came up they were introduced each to the
other, the dustman with his broom bowing to the
ground hke some old-time court usher.
Once a Greek woman offered a chair to Jo. She
was much embarrassed, as the only Greek words
she had picked up were " How much ? " and " Yet
another ; " and as both seemed unsuitable she tried
to put her gratitude into the width of her smile.
We scrambled on ever afterwards through
streets which were more hke cliff chmbs than
roads. The sun grew red till all Salonika lay at
our feet a maze of magenta shadow. We sat
down in an old Turkish cemetery, where we could
watch the old wall sliding down to plains of gold,
where, falling into ruins, it lent its degraded stones
for the construction of Turkish hovels.

FEAST DAY 17
A kitten with paralysed hind legs crawled up
to us and accepted a httle rubbing. When dusk
came we moved on, marvelhng at the inexhaustible
picturesqueness of Salonika.
As we clambered down the breakneck paths,
the priests were illuminating the minarets with
hundreds of twinkling hghts.
The next day was the Feast. Mahommedans
were everywhere. By the women's trousers, which
twinkled beneath the shrouding veils, one could
see that they were gorgeously dressed. Befezzed
men were lounging and smoking in all the cafes.
In the evening once more we wandered up
through the old Turkish quarter. We heard a
curious noise hke a hymn played by bagpipes,
rhythmically accompanied in syncopation by a
very flabby drum. Round the corner came four
jolly niggers blowing pipes, and the drummer
behind them. Very shm young men with bright
sashes and fight trousers were twisting, posturing,
and dancing joyfully. One of them threw to Jo
the most graceful kiss she had ever seen.
We left Salonika in the morning, having been
wakened by new sounds. Thousands of marching
feet, songs. This was puzzhng.
In the train a young Greek told us that his
nation had mobihzed against the Bulgars, but that
it was not very serious. He said that there had

18 NISH AND SALONIKA
been very friendly feehng in Greece for England,
but that we had done our best to kill it.
" You see, monsieur," he explained, " your
offer to give away our land. It is not yours to
give. You say that does not matter, but that
colonies, great colonies in Africa will replace the
small part of land that we may surrender. Ka valla
is more valuable to Grecian hearts than all Africa,
for how could we desert our Grecian brothers and
place them beneath the rule of the Turk or Bulgar ? "
On the train were more American doctors.
One had just arrived, and was still full of enthusiasm
for scenery and sanitation. Also there was Princess
 surrounded by packing cases. Some months
earher she had visited our hospitals in Vrntze and
she had asked if one of our V.A.D.'s could be sent
to her as housemaid. Seeing her in the station,
Jo involuntarily ran over in her mind, was she
" sober, honest and obliging ? "
The American doctors and we picnicked to
gether. We ate bully beef and a huge water
melon. The heat was awful. The velvet seats
seemed to invade one's body and come through at
the other side. One of the doctors sat on the step
of the train, and Jo found him nodding and smiling
as he dreamt. She rescued him before he fell off.
After twelve hours they left us. Uskub once
more and an hour to wait. We sat behind trees

THE ORCHESTRA

19

in boxes on the platform and ate omelet with a
nice old Jew and his ten-year-old daughter, who
already spoke five languages.
Then to sleep. We found our half coupe con
tained a second seat which could be pulled down,
so we each had a bed. At four in the morning we
were awakened by the most awful imitation of a
German band.
What had happened 1 We looked out. It was
barely dawn, and a wretched httle orchestra was
grouped at the edge of the tiny station. Every
instrument was cracked and was tuned one-six
teenth tone different from its companions. What
it lacked in musical abihty it made up in energy.
Why, oh, why at that hour, we never found
out. Perhaps it was in honour of the Princess,
poor lady !

CHAPTER III
OFF TO MONTENEGRO
Back to Nish in the rain, and Jo was wearing a
cotton frock. There may be more dismal towns
than this Nish, but I have yet to see them, and this,
although the great squares were packed with gaily
coloured peasants — some feast, we imagined —
carts full of melons, melons on the ground, melons
framing the faces of the greedy — cerise green-rind
moons projecting from either cheek. The Monte
negrin consul was not at home, so off we went to
the Foreign Office to give a letter to Mr. Grouitch,
who sent us to the Sanitary Department of the
War Office (henceforth known as S. D. W. 0.).
S. D. W. 0. wouldn't move without a letter from
" Sir Paget." We got the letter from " Sir Paget "
and back to the S. D. W. 0., to find it shut in our
faces, and to learn that it did not reopen till four.
Then came the matter of Jo's tooth. This
abscess had been nagging all the time, it had
vigorously tried to get between Jo and the scenery.
We had sought dentists in Salonika, rejecting one
because his hall was too dirty, a second because she
(yes, a she) was practising on her father's certifi
cates, the third, a httle Spaniard, had red-hot
20

PEASANT WOMEN IN GALA COSTUME — NISH.

THE DENTIST 21
pokered the gums thereof and only annoyed it.
But we had heard there was a Russian dentist in
Nish, a very good one. The Russian dentist turned
out to be a girl, and tiny — she spoke no Serb, but
Jo managed, by means of the second cousinship of
the language, to make out what she said in Russian.
" The tooth must come out," squeaked the
small dentist.
" Can't you save it ? " prayed Jo ; " it's the
best one I've got, and the one to which I send all
the Serbian meat."
" It must come out," squeaked the Russ.
" Can't you save it ? " prayed Jo.
" It must come out," reiterated the Russ.
' You're very small," said Jo, doubtfully.
This annoyed the dentist. She pushed unwilling
Jo into a chair, produced a pair of pincers, and,
oh, woe ! she wrenched to the north, she wrenched
to the south, she wrenched to the east, and there
was the tooth, nearly as big as the dentist herself.
" I never can eat Serbian meat again," mur
mured Jo as she mopped her mouth.
After tea we returned to the S. D. W. 0., and
by means of our letter and our Englishness we got
in front of all the unfortunate people who had been
waiting for hours, and received our passes, etc.,
immediately. Sir Ralph Paget's storekeeper wouldn't work

22 OFF TO MONTENEGRO
on Sunday, so we had also to rest, and we celebrated
by staying in bed late and going for a walk in the
afternoon with an Englishman who was en route
for Sofia. We came to a httle village where every
house was surrounded by high walls made of wattle.
The women soon crowded round, imagining Mr.
B  a doctor. Jo pretended to translate, and
gave advice for a girl with consumption, and an old
woman whose hand was stiff from typhus, and we
had to give the money for the latter's unguent.
For the consumptive she said, " Open the windows,
rest, and don't spit " ; but that isn't a peasant's idea
of doctoring : they want medicine or magic, one or
the other, which doesn't matter.
The train started " after eight " on Monday
evening. The Enghsh boys at the Rest house
were very good to us, adding to our small stock of
necessities a " Tommy's treasure," two mackintosh
capes, and some oxo cubes. One youth said,
" You won't want to travel a second time on a
Serbian luggage train " ; then ruefully, " I've done
it ! The shunting, phew ! "
A Serbian railway station is a pubhc meeting-
place ; along the platform, but railed off from the
train, is a restaurant which is one of the favourite
caf 6a of the town. It is such fun to the still childish
Serbian mind to sit sipping beer or wine and watch
the trains run about, and hear the whistles. We had

SHUNTING 23
our supper amongst the gay crowd, and then pushed
out into the darkened goods station to find our travel
ling bedroom, for we were to sleep in the waggons
— beds and matresses having been provided — and
we had borrowed blankets from the Rest house.
We found our truck and climbed in. There were
certainly beds enough, for there were thirty hght
iron folding bedsteads piled up at one end. We
chose two, and, not satisfied with the stacking of the
others, Jan repiled them, with an eye on what our
friend had said about Serbian shunting. Even
then Jo was not happy about them.
We sat on our beds, reading or staring out of
our open door at the twinkle of the station lights,
the moving flares of the engines, and the foun
tains of sparks which rushed from their chimneys ;
hstening to the chains of bumps which denoted
a shunting train. We heard another chain of
bumps, which rattled rapidly towards us and
suddenly — a most awful CRASH. The candle went
out, and we were flung from bed on to the floor.
Our truck hurtled down the hne at about thirty
miles an hour, and suddenly struck some solid
object. Another wild crash, and the whole twenty-
eight beds flung themselves upon the place where
we had been, and smashed our couches to the ground.
We have read stories of the Spanish Inquisition
about rooms which grow smaller, and at last crush

24 OFF TO MONTENEGRO
the unfortunate victim to a jelly: we can now
appreciate the feehng of the unfortunate victim
aforesaid. There were piles of packing-cases at
either end of the van, and for the next hour, as
we were hurtled up and down by the Serbian engine-
driver, at each crash these packing-cases crept
nearer and nearer. The beds had fallen across the
door, so it was impossible to escape. When the
lower cases had reached the beds they halted, but
the upper ones still crept on towards us. In the
short, wild intervals of peace Jan tried to push the
cases back and restore momentary stabihty. In
addition to diminishing room, we were flung about
with every crash, landing on the corner of a packing-
case, on the edge of an iron bedstead, and with each
crash the hght went out. We will give not one
jot of advantage to your prisoner in the Spanish
Inquisition, save that we escaped whereas he
did not.
The engine-driver tired of the sport just in time
to save our limbs, if not lives, and he dragged the
train out of the station into the dark.
At Krusevatch we halted for the next day.
After a discussion with the station-master, who
asked us to come down first at six p.m., then at
four, then at one, and lastly in two hours, at
nine a.m. we strolled up towards the town. There
was an old beggar on the road, and he was cuddhng

KRUSEVATZ 25
a " goosla," or Serbian one-stringed fiddle, which
sounds not unhke a hive of bees in summer-time,
and is played not with the tips of the fingers, as
a violin, but with the fat part of the first phalanx.
As soon as he heard our footsteps he began to
howl, and to saw at his miserable instrument ; and
as soon as he had received our contribution he
stopped suddenly. We were worth no more effort ;
but we admired his frankness.
Krusevatz market-place is hke the setting of a
Serbian opera. The houses are the kind of houses
that occupy the back scenery of opera, and in the
middle is an abominable statue commemorating
something, which is just in the bad taste which
would mar an opera setting. There was an old man
wandering'about with two knapsacks, one on his back
and one on his chest, and from the orifice of each
peered out innumerable ducks' heads. We returned
to the station at nine, but were told that nothing
could be done till one. So we went up to the
churchyard, spread our mackintoshes, and got a
much-needed sleep. The church is very old, but
isn't much to look at, and we, being no archaeologists,
would sooner look at that of Trsternick, though it
is modern. We returned to the station to unload our
trucks, for at this point the broad-gauge hne ceases,
and there is but a narrow-gauge into the mountains.

26 OFF TO MONTENEGKU
A band of Austrian prisoners were detailed to help
us, and they at once recognized us, and knew that
we came from Vrntze. They were in a wretched
condition : their clothes were torn, they said that
they had no change of underclothes, and were
swarming with vermin, nor could they be cleaned,
for they worked even on Sundays, and had no time
to wash their clothes. They begged us for soap,
and asked us to send them a change of raiment
from Vrntze. We explained sadly that we were not
going back just yet, but we could obhge them with
the soap, for a case had been broken open, and the
waggon was strewn with bars. We also gave some
to the engine-driver, as a bribe to shunt us gently.
We imagined that the soap had burst because
of the shunting, but in our second truck discovered
that this same shunting had been strangely selective.
It had, for instance, opened a case of brandy, it
had burst a box of tinned tongue, and even opened
some of the tins which were strewn in the truck.
And yet the truck had been sealed, both doors.
Several cases of biscuits, too, had been abstracted,
and all this must have happened under the very
noses of the Englishmen who had supervised the
loading. Some of the prisoners said that they were
starving, so we distributed our spare crusts amongst
them, and they ate them greedily enough.
In the fields by the railway were queer pallid

UZHITZE 27
green plants which puzzled us. They were like
tall cabbages, and shone with a curious ghostly
intensity in the gloaming.
We dangled our feet over the side of our
waggon watching the flitting scenery. At one
point we passed a train in which were other
Enghsh people, who stared amazed at us and
waved their hands as we disappeared. Dusk was
down when we passed Vrntze, and we reached the
gorges of Ovchar in the dark. We thundered
through tunnels and out over hanging precipices,
the river beneath us a faint band of greyish hght
in the blackness of the mountains.
Uzhitze in the morning at 4.30 ; it was cold
and wet. Jan wanted to hurry off to the hotel,
but Jo sensibly refused, and we settled down till a
decent hour.
The hotel was a huge room with a smaller yard ;
on the one side of the yard were the kitchens, etc.,
and on the other a string of bedrooms. We then
crossed the big square to the Nachanlik's (or
mayor's) office.
Outside the mayor's office we found an old
friend. He had been a patient in our hospital, and
gangrene, following typhus, had so poisoned his
legs that both were amputated. He had been
discharged the day before, and had travelled up
from Vrntze, some eight hours, in an open truck.

28 OFF TO MONTENEGRO
The Serbian authorities had brought him from the
station and had propped him on a wooden bench
outside the mayor's office, where he had remained
all night, and where we found him. He was a
charming fellow, though very silent. Once when
Jo had remarked upon this silence he had answered,
" When a man has no longer any legs it is fitting
that he should be silent."
He was waiting for his father, who hved twelve
hours away in the mountains. The old man came
with a donkey, and there was a most affecting
meeting between the old father and his poor
mutilated son. Tears flowed freely on either side,
for Serbs are still simple enough to be unashamed
of emotion. The donkey had an ordinary saddle,
on to which our friend was hoisted. He balanced
tentatively for a moment, then shook his head. A
pack-saddle was substituted.
" It is hard," he said, " young enough, and yet
hke a useless bale of goods."
Twenty hours he had endured, and yet had
twelve to go — thirty-two hours for a man without
legs. This will show of what some Serbs are made.
Within the office we found a professor whom we
had met before, and who was acting as assistant
mayor. We took him to the station and estimated
that thirty- two waggons would deal with our stuff.
Jo and Jan went for a stroll. Uzhitze, especially

SEEB CONVALESCENTS AT UZHITZE.

UZHITZE 29
lr* the back streets, is hke a Diirer etching — that one
°f the Prodigal Son, for instance, all tiny, peaky-
rooied houses. We took a siesta in the afternoon,
but Jan was dragged out to talk to our professor,
who explained that it was impossible for the Serbian
Government to find thirty-two ox-carts at once, so
the convoy must make two journeys. He also
said that horses would be provided for us, and that
we would take two or three days to do the trip,
but that the ox-waggons would be at least seven,
which was death to our romantic dream of toihng
laboriously up almost inaccessible mountains at
the head of straining ox-carts, sleeping by the
roadside, brigands, and all that.
We went down to the station, unloaded the
truck and checked the numbers. A few were
missing, but not so many as we had expected.
A regiment of soldiers were called up ; at a
word of command they pounced upon our packing-
cases and hurried them off to a storehouse. The
smaller cases were left to go on donkeys, two on
either side.
The professor dined with us. He is an Anglo
phile, and was determined after the war to go to
England in order to discover the secret of her
greatness. He had a theory that it lay in our
educational laws, which he wanted to transplant
into Serbia wholesale. Jan thought not, and

30

OFF TO MONTENEGRO

suggested that it might he even deeper than
that. Next day was a Prazhnik, or feast day, and the
great square was crowded with peasantry in their
beautiful hand-woven clothes. There were soldiers
straight back from the hnes chaffing and flirting
with the pretty girls, and presently a group began
to dance the " Kola " about a man who played a
pipe. It is not difficult to dance the Kola. You
join hands till a ring is formed, and then shuffle
round and round. If you have aspirations to style
you fling your legs about as much as space will
allow, and we noticed how much better the men
danced than the girls, who were almost all very
clumsy. We were to be called at six, so went to bed
early, and in spite of the odours from the yard
slept soundly.

CHAPTER IV

ACROSS THE FRONTIER

We got up in good time, breakfasted, but there
was no sign of horses. After waiting two hours a
square man was brought up to us by the waiter
and introduced as our guide. The professor, who
had promised to see us off, was apparently chnging
to his bed, for he did not come. Our guide was a
taciturn, loose-hmbed fellow, but had nice eyes and
a charming manner ; he helped us on to our horses,
and off we went. Jan was rather anxious at the
start, for he had done very httle riding since child
hood ; but his horse was quiet, and soon he had
persuaded himself that he was a cavaher from birth.
Jo was riding astride for the second time in her
hfe. We took the road to Zlatibor (golden hill).
There was a heavy mist, the hills were just outhned
in faint washes on the fog, and as we mounted the
zig-zag path, higher and higher, the town became
small and fairylike beneath us ; and a soldiers'
camp made a queer chessboard on the green of the
31

32 ACROSS THE FRONT1UK
valley. Jo's horse cast a shoe almost at the start,
but the guide said that it did not matter. We went
on and ever up, our horses clambering hke goats.
The scenery was on the whole very Enghsh, and
not unhke the Devonshire side of Dartmoor.
Our guide took us a two mile detour to show us
his house. Later we reached a tiny village with a
queer church. We off-saddled for a moment, and
were welcomed by the inhabitants, who gave us
Turkish coffee and plum brandy (rakia), while in
exchange we made them cigarettes of Enghsh
tobacco. At sixteen kilometres we reached a
larger village, where we decided to lunch. We were
astonished by the sudden appearance of a French
doctor. He was dehghted to see us, more so when
he found that we both spoke French, and invited
us to coffee. We lunched with our guide at the
local inn. We ordered pig; indeed there was
nothing else to order.
" How much ? " said mine host.
" For three," answered we.
" But how much is that ? " rephed mine host.
" You see, each man eats differently." So we
ordered one kilo to go on with.
Half a pig was wrenched from a spit in front of
the big fire, carried sizzhng outside to the wood
block, where the waiter hewed it apart with the
axe.

ON THE ROAD 33
We had discovered pecuharities in our horses.
They had conscientious objections to going abreast,
and always walked single file ; this was owing to
the narrowness of the mountain paths. Jo's horse,
which somehow looked hke Monkey Brand, insisted
on taking the second place, and would by no means
go third. At last we reached the top of Zlatibor —
which gets its name from a pecuhar golden cheese
which it produces. The view is hke that from the
Cat and Fiddle in Derbyshire, only bigger in scale,
and from thence the ride began to be interminable.
It grew darker, we walked down the hills to ease
our aching knees, and Jan decided that horse riding
was no go.
Finally the guide decided that it was too late
to reach Novi Varosh that night, and so the
direction was altered. The road grew stony and
more stony. A bitter breeze came up with the
evening. We came to a green valley, at the end of
which was a rocky gorge, down which ran the
twistiest stream : it seemed as though it had been
designed by a lump of mercury on a wobbhng plate.
We turned from the gorge on to a hill so rocky that
the path was only visible where former horse-hoofs
had stained the stones with red earth.
The village consisted of an enormous school, a
httle church, soldiers encamped round fires in the
churchyard, and seven or eight wooden hovels.
D

34 ACROSS THE FROJNT1EK
Our guide stopped at the door of the dirtiest and
rapped. A furtive woman's face peered out into
the gloom. We climbed painfully from our saddles,
for we had been thirteen hours on the road.
" Beds ? " said the guide to the woman.
" Good Lord ! " thought we.
She shook her head dolefully and said, " Ima,"
which means "there is." Serbians nod for no. The
woman shd out into the night and passed to another
building, chmbed the stairs to a veranda and
disappeared. It grew colder, the guide was busy unharnessing
the horses, so shivering we sought refuge in the
dirty house, which was not quite so bad within as
we had feared. It was furnished with a long table
and two benches only, and was hghted by a small
fire which was burning on a huge open hearth,
and which gave no heat at all. The woman came
back and led us to the other house for supper,
which was boiled eggs, and the guide generously
shared his own bread with us, as we had none.
There was no water to drink, and Jo tried, not very
successfully, to quench her thirst with rakia.
There were but two beds, and on inquiry
finding that there was no place for the guide, we
allotted one bed to him. On our own bed the sheets
had evidently not been changed since it was first
made, and the pillow which once had been white was

A SERBIAN SHELTER 35
a dark ironclad grey. We undid our mackintoshes
and spread them over both counterpane and pillow.
We lay down clothed as we were, and by the time
we had finished our preparations the guide was
already snoring.
As soon as the hght was turned out the whole
room began to tick hke ten agitated clocks, and
all about us in the darkness began strange noises
of hfe : rats scampered in all directions and were
finaUy hurdling over our heads. We had taken
some aspirin to ward off the stiffness of unaccus
tomed exercise, but we were sore, and the narrow
ness of the bed forced us to he on our backs ;
exhaustion, however, conquered all discomforts,
and we slept. Jo awoke in the night and yelped
to find that the mackintosh had shpped and that
her head was resting on the pillow.
We were up again at 5.30, and Vladimir, the
guide, suggested that we should breakfast at Novi
Varosh, four hours on ; but our stomachs were not
of cast iron, and we clamoured for eggs. We got
them, left Negbina — that was the name of the
viUage — about seven, and once more adventured
on the road.
By eight we had passed the old Serbian frontier :
the country was growing more interesting, hke the
foothills of the Tyrol; on the streams were inefficient-
looking old wooden mills, the water rushing madly

36 ACROSS THE FRONTIER
down a slope and hitting a futile httle wheel which
turned laboriously.
Novi Varosh, with roofs of weathered wood
gleaming purphsh amongst the trees, was a wonder
ful httle town, and quite unhke any other we had
seen; clean without, and if the energy of its
citizens at the village pump is a good sample,
clean within also, for Serbia. Here are Turks too :
ladies in veil and trousers, and trousered kiddies with
clothes of orange, yeUow and purple. Twice in
the streets we were stopped by authority. Our
lunch was well cooked, one can clearly see this has
not been Serbia for long, for the Serbs are the
worst eaters in the world. Jo gave medical advice
to a Serb, and on once more.
On the road were travellers never ending in
their variety, and one father was mounted with a
pack behind him, and on the top of the pack his
httle daughter clad in many coloured cottons,
clasping him tight round the neck and peering
inquisitively from behind his ear.
About three p.m. we reached the Lim. The
road chmbs to a great height, and the peasants in
their gay costumes were reaping, some of the fields
so steep that we wondered how they stood upon
them ; on the opposite chff was an old robber castle
hke a Rhine fortress.
The Serbian town of Prepolji introduced itself

PREPOLJI 37
by six Turks lying by the roadside, then there
were three Turkish famihes, afterwards an assorted
dozen of small girls in trousers, finally, an old man
doddering along in a turban and a veiled beggar
woman, who demanded backsheesh. " Where are
the Serbs ? " we thought.
The Greek church looked as if it had been new
built, so that the Serbs could claim Prepolji as a
Christian town, and had a biscuit tin roof not yet
rusted. Our hotel was hke that where Mr. Pickwick first
met Sam WeUer, a large open court with a crazy
wooden balcony at the second story, and the bed
rooms opening on to the balcony. When we
opened our knapsacks to get out washing materials,
we found that the heat of the horse had melted
aU the chocolate in Jan's, and it had run over
everything. It was a mess, but chocolate was
precious, and every piece had to be rescued. We
had only been ten hours in the saddle, but we
descended stiffly, and were pounced on by a foohsh
looking man, with a head to which Jo took im
mediate offence. This fellow attached himself to us
during the whole of our stay, and was an intolerable
nuisance ; we nicknamed him " glue pot," and only
at our moment of departure discovered that he was
the mayor who had been trying to do us honour.
The next day was Sunday, and the village full

38 ACROSS THE FRONTIER
of peasants. Stiff-legged and groaning a httle
within ourselves we walked about the town making
observations : Turkish soldiers, Turkish policemen,
Turkish recruits, but all the peasants Serb. The
country costume is different from that of the north,
the perpendicular stripe on the skirt has here given
way to horizontal bands of colour, and some women
wear a sort of exaggerated ham frill about the waist.
The men's waistcoats were very ornate, and much
embroidery was upon their coats.
An Enghsh nurse came into the town in the
afternoon. She, a Russian girl, and an Enghsh
orderly had driven from Plevhe, en route to Uzhitze.
Half-way along the wheel of their carriage had
broken in pieces, so they finished the road on
foot. Curiously enough we had travelled from
England to Malta with this lady, Sister Rawlins,
on the same transport. The Russian girl had been
married only the day before to a Montenegrin
officer, nephew of the Sirdar Voukotitch, Com
mander-in-Chief of the North, and she was flying
back to Russia to collect her goods and furniture.
Next day as we were sketching in the picturesque
main street, from the distance came the sounds of
a weird waihng, drawing slowly closer and closer.
" Hurra," thought we— two minds with but a
single, etc.,—" a funeral— magnificent. Just the
thing to complete the scene."

THE CONVOY 39
A string of donkeys came round the corner,
on either flank each animal bore a case marked
with a large red cross. Amongst the animals were
donkey-boys, and it was from their hps came the
dismal waihng. Never have we seen so ragged and
wretched a crew. The boys were evidently the
" unfits," and they looked it, every face showed
the wan, palhd shadow of hunger and disease.
A few old men in huge fur caps, with rifles on their
backs, stumbled along, guarding the precious
convoy. " Glue pot " led us all to a large empty
building, once a Turkish merchant's store, where
the cases were to be housed. The bullock carts
with the heavier packages came in in the evening,
and we sent the men five litres of plum brandy to
put some warmth into their miserable bodies.
This moved them once more to singing, but we
think the songs sounded a httle less dreary.
The Commandant asked for, and got, half a
dozen sheets from us as a sort of superior back
sheesh, and promised us horses for the morrow.
The next morning dawned dismally. Miss
Rawhns and her companions were to go on by
post cart, and their conveyance arrived first, only
two and a half hours late. It was a sort of tinker's
tent on four rickety wheels. There seemed to be
barely room for one within the dark interior, but
both Miss Rawhns and the httle Russian climbed in

40 ACROSS THE FRONTiiSK
somehow. Charhe, the orderly, clung on by his
eyehds in front, and off they went. We last saw
two faces peering back at us beneath the fringe
of the tent. They had no luck. Half-way to
Uzhitze the cart upset and they were all rolled
into the ditch, missing a precipice of sixty feet or
so by the merest fraction.
Our own horses arrived later, we mounted, and
with cheers from the assembled authorities, we
rode off.
The rain came down in a steady drizzle; we
discovered that the waterproof cloaks which we had
borrowed from Nish were not very weathertight.
We chmbed right up into the clouds, but stiU the
rain held on. From the floating mist jutted great
boulders and huge red cliffs. Our guide put up
an umbrella and rode along crouching beneath it.
At 1400 metres we reached an inn, where we
lunched. A Montenegrin commissioner insisted
on paying our bill, and said that we would do the
same for him when he came to England. Every one
in Serbia or Montenegro is interested in ages. They
were astounded at ours. They said that Jo would
have been seventeen if she were Serbian ; and one
rose, shook Jan warmly by the hand and said he
must have " navigated " the marriage well.
We rode over the frontier, but we were not yet
in the real Montenegro. This is not the black

PLEVLIE 41
mountain where the last dregs of old Serbian
aristocracy defied the Turk, this is still the Sanjak,
three years ago Turkish, and with pleasant pastur
ages spreading on either hand.
At last we came up over Plevlie. To one
corner we could see the town creeping in a crescent
about the foot of a grey hill, far away on the other
side was a httle monastery, forlorn and white, hke
a shivering saint, and between a great valley with
four purplish humps in the midst of the corn and
maize fields, hke great whales bursting through a
patchwork quilt.
Our horses were thoroughly cheered up, and
we passed through the long streets of the town at
a hvely trot, a thing Jo was taught as a child to
consider bad form.
A semi-transparent httle man in a black hat
stood on the hotel steps beckoning to us. But
we had no use for hotel touts, and waved our
sticks saying, " Hospital." He seemed curiously
disappointed. The hospital, many long low buildings, lay buried
in a park of trees. The staff hved in a tiny house
near by, where we were welcomed by the cook,
Mrs. Roworth. She explained that as the house
was hardly capable of holding its ten or twelve
occupants, a room had been taken for us at the
inn, but that we were to meal with them.

42 ACROSS THE FRONTIER
" Not that you will hke the food," she said,
" for it's all tinned, and I have only twenty-five
shillings a week to buy milk, bread, and fresh meat."
We wondered why, in such a fertile country,
a party of hard-working people should be condemned
to eat tinned mackerel and vegetables brought all
the way from England ?
However, the dinner was excellent — all "dis
guised," she said, for she had during the few weeks
she had been there concentrated on the art of
disguising bully beef and worse problems, and had
sternly put Dr. Clemow on omelets and beefsteaks,
as his digestion had caved in under six months'
unadulterated tinned food.
We met old friends, feUow traveUers on the
way out. In those days they were a wistful httle
party, wondering how they were going to reach
Montenegro, the Adriatic being impossible. At
last one of the passes was hurriedly improved
for them by a thousand prisoners, and they rode
through in the snow. Since then typhus had raged,
two of their number had been very iU, and one
had died. Their energy had been tremendous, and
everywhere in the country they were spoken of
as the wonderful English hospital, and even from
Chainitza, where there was a Russian hospital,
soldiers walked a long day's march in order to
be treated by the English.

PLEVLIE 43
Dr. Roger's rival was there, the perpetrator of
ninety hernia operations a week — or was it more ?
All this on tinned food !
Our hotel room proved large and comfortable
with a talkative wilhng Turk in attendance. We
slept immensely and were wakened by yet another
horrible cock crowing. All Balkan cocks seem to
have bronchitis.
Plevhe is a red-tiled nucleus with a fringe of
wood-roofed Serb houses planted round it. There
are ten mosques, while the only Greek church
stands forlorn on the other side of the great hoUow
two miles away.
The town is not really Montenegrin. It has
the cosmopohtan character of all the Sanjak,
Turks, Austro-Turks and Serbs — a mixture hke
that at Marseilles or Port Said.
The shops are Turkish, though their turbaned
owners, sitting cross-legged on the floor-counters,
can speak only Serb — a thing which puzzled us at
the time.
We saw veiled women and semi- veiled children
everywhere, thickly latticed windows with curious
eyes peeping through, and yards with high wooden
pahngs above to prevent the possible young men
on the houses opposite from catching a ghmpse of
the fair ladies in the gardens.
Plenty of long-legged Montenegrin officers — with

44 ACROSS THE FROJNTUian
flat caps bearing the King's initials, and five rings
representing the dynasties of the ruhng house-
filled the streets, and also the inevitable ragged
soldiers with gorgeous bags on their backs.
Some of the women, too, were wearing these
caps, but theirs were yet smaller and tipped over
their noses, hke the pork pie hat of our grand
mothers. One closely veiled woman showed the
silhouette sticking up through her veil just hke a
blacking tin.
The Mahommedan is much more fanatic in these
parts than his more civilized brother of Salonika or
Constantinople. Women of the two religions do
not visit. The hatred is partially pohtical, and Jo
began to reahze that her dream of visiting a harem
would not be easy to achieve. We met three
women walking down a lonely street. Although
their faces were covered with several thicknesses of
black chiffon, they modestly placed them against
the wall and stood there, three shapeless bundles,
until we were out of sight.
Jan's feehngs were very much hurt, but he
soon got used to being treated hke a dangerous
dragon. When we reached our hotel again we found the
elite of the town waiting in the bar-room for us.
There was a huge jolly Greek priest, all big hat and
velvet, the prefect, the schoolmaster, a linguist,

THE RED CROSS 45
and the httle black-hatted man whom we had
mistaken for a hotel tout.
The priest was president of the Montenegrin
Red Cross, the prefect was a former Prime Minister
and a Voukotitch. All important men who are
not Petroviches are Voukotitches ; the first being
members of the king's and the second of the queen's
family. The httle black-hatted man was secretary of the
Red Cross, and was formally attached to us while
there as cicerone. He explained to us that they
had aU been in the hotel expecting us the night
before, with a beautiful dinner which had been pre
pared in our honour.
We apologized and inwardly noted the grateful
temperament of the Montenegrin. We were
solemnly treated to coffee and brandy, and the
joUy priest emptied his cigarette box into Jo's lap.
When the first pofite ceremoniousness had worn
off we asked dehcately about the front.
" Did we wish to see the front ? "
Certainly, said the prefect, we should have
the first horses that should come back to the town,
and the httle transparent shadow man should
accompany us. And our letter to the Sirdar
Voukotitch, commander in chief of the north ? —
He should be told about it on his return that
evening from the front.

46

ACROSS THE FRONT1UJ*

At sunset the muezzin sounded, cracked voices
cried unmelodiously from all the minaret tops.
Immediately, as if it were their signal, all the crows
arose from the town, hovered around in batches
for a moment, chattering, and flew away up the
hiU to roost in the trees round the hospital till
sunrise. Salonika rings with children's cries, Dawson
city with the howlings of dogs, but the towns of
the Sanjak have no better music than the croaking
of carrion crows.

CHAPTER V
THE MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON THE DRINA
When Jan awoke it was dark, and he was with
difficulty rousing Jo when suddenly a voice howled
through the keyhole that the horses were waiting.
Jan grabbed his watch — 5 a.m. ; but the horses had
been ordered for six. Hastily chewing dry biscuit,
Jan jumped into his clothes and ran down. There
was a small squat youth with a flabby Mongolian
face hovering between the yard door and the inn,
and Jan following him discovered three horses
saddled and waiting. He hastily ordered white
coffee to be prepared, and ran up again to hurry
Jo and to pack. He rushed down again to pay the
bill, but found that the Montenegrin Red Cross
had charged itself with everything, very generously,
so he ran up once more to nag at Jo. The secretary,
whom we called " the shadow," had not appeared,
so we inquired from the squint-eyed youth, received
many " Bogamis " as answer, but nothing definite ;
so we decided, as it was now past six, that he had
changed his mind and had sent this chinee-looking
fellow, whom we named " Bogami," in his place.
47

48 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
Jan's horse was hke an early " John " drawing
of a slender but antiquated siren, aU beautiful
curves. Jo's would in England long ago have taken
the boat to Antwerp ; her saddle stood up in a huge
hump behind and had a steeple in front, and was
covered by what looked like an old bearskin
hearthrug in a temper, one stirrup hke a fire shovel
was yards too long, the other far too short, and were
set well at the back.
" What queer horses ! " we remarked.
" Bogami," said Bogami ; " when there are
no horses these are good horses, Bogami."
" Where is the secretary ? "
" Bogami nesnam " (don't know).
From Uzhitze we had good horses, from Prepolji
moderate, now these ; imagination staggered at
what we should descend to if we did a fourth lap
to Cettinje, for instance, but we chmbed up. Jo
with her queerly placed stirrups perched forward
something hke a racing cychst. Bogami's horse
was innocent of garniture, save for a piece of chain
bound about its lower jaw, but he slung his great
coat over the saw edge of its backbone and leapt on.
He must have had a coccyx of cast iron. We had
to kick the animals into a walk — there were fifty
kilometres to go.
After a while we began to wonder if it would
not be quicker to get off and foot it, but we did

SPEED 49
catch up and eventuaUy pass a Red Cross Turk.
We saw a soldier striding ahead. By kicks and
shouts we raised a sprint along the level road ; we
drew even with him, and then began a race ; on the
uphiUs we beat him, on the downhills he caught up
and passed in front. He was a taciturn fellow, and
save that he was going to Fochar we learnt nothing
about him. On a long uphill we gained a hundred
yards, and by supreme efforts held our gains. He
eventuaUy disappeared from view, and we were
rejoicing at our speed when we reahzed that the
telegraph wires were no longer with us — one can
always find the nearest way by following the
telegraph, for governments do not waste wire.
Jan looked for them and found them streaming
away to the left, and among them, well up on the
horizon, our enemy the soldier.
" Look," we cried to Bogami, " isn't that the
shortest way ? The wires go there."
" Bogami," he rephed ; " wires can, horses can't,
bogami." There is a fine mihtary road to Chainitza, made
by the Austrians, but it remains a white necklace
on the hiUs, almost an ornament to the landscape.
No one seemed to use it, while our old Turkish
road which snaked and twisted up and down was
pitted with the hoofs of countless horses. It is a
stony path, and our animals were shod with flat
E

50 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
plates instead of horseshoes; they shpped and
slithered, and we wondered if in youth they had
ever had lessons in skating.
There was a heavy mist, but it began to break
up, and through peepholes one caught fleeting
ghmpses of distant patterning of field and forest,
and hints of great hills. The sun showed hke a
great pale moon on the horizon. There were other
travellers on the old Turkish trail, horsemen,
Bosnians in great dark claret-coloured turbans, or
Montenegrins in their flat khaki caps, peasants in
dirty white cotton pyjamas, thumping before them
animals with pack-swollen sides, soldiers only
recognizable from the peasants by the rifle on their
backs, and Turks ; most were joUy fellows, and
hailed us cheerfully.
From a house by the roadside burst a sheep,
followed by five men. They chased the animal
down the road whisthng to it. We had never
heard that whisthng was effectual with sheep, and
certainly it did not succeed very weU in this
instance. Somewhere beyond this house Jan's inside
began to cry for food, two biscuits and a cup of
cafe au hit being little upon which to found a long
day's riding. He tentatively tried a " compressed
luncheon. ' ' Its action was satisfactory, but whether
it resulted from real nourishment contained in the

METALKA 51
black-looking glue, or whether it came from a
sticking together of the coating of the stomach,
we have not yet decided. Jo preferred rather to
endure the hunger.
Bogami had quite a charm; for instance, he
appreciated our troubles with the beasts we were
riding. Jo's horse stumbled a good deal on the
downhills ; her saddle was very uncomfortable and
so narrow that she could never change her position.
We came into most magnificent scenery, the beauty
of which made a deep impression even upon our
empty selves. There were deep green valleys,
rising to peaks and hills which faded away ridge
behind ridge of blue into the distant Serbian
mountains, great pine woods of dehcate droop
ing trees which came down and folded in on
every side, and though it was almost September
there were strawberries still ripe at the edge of
the road, httle red luscious blobs amidst the
green. Metalka at one o'clock, and we were on the real
Montenegrin frontier. There are two Metalkas, a
Montenegrin and an Austrian, and they are divided
one from the other by a strip of land some ten yards
across which rips the village in two hke the track
of a httle cyclone. Bogami directed us to a shanty
labelled " Hotel of Europe." A large woman was
blocking the door ; we demanded food, she took no

52 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DK1JNA
notice. Hunger was clamouring within us. We
demanded a second time. She waved her hand
majestically to her rival in Austria, at whose
tables Montenegrin officers were sitting with
coffee. An officer greeted us.
" We had expected you yesterday," he said.
We waved to the horses.
" No horses."
" That is a pity," he murmured. " You see,
there was something to eat yesterday ! "
In spite of his pessimism we got eggs and wine.
Bogami had a large crowd, to whom he lectured,
and we sent him out some eggs.
After lunch we pushed on, in conquered terri
tory. To Chainitza they said was one hour and a
haU, it proved nearer three.
We joined some peasants, and they told us that
they were going to the great festival. The old
mother halted at a sort of sheep pen by the
roadside; when she rejoined us she was wiping
her eyes.
" That was my brother," she explained ; " he
was killed in the war ; " f or it is the custom to erect
memorial stones by the roadside. Many of these
are very quaint, sometimes painted with a soldier,
or else with the rifle, sword, pistols and medals of
the deceased.

CHAINITZA 53
Chainitza hes in a backwater, where the deep
vaUey makes a sudden bend. When we came to it
the sun was in our eyes, and halfway between the
crest and the river the town seemed to float in a
bluish mist ; two white mosques stood out against
the trees, and the roof of one was not one dome,
but many hke an inverted egg frier, or almost as
though it was boiling over.
We were stopped at the entry by a sentry.
" Where are you going ? "
" To the Russian Hospital."
He took us in charge and led us, in spite of pro
testations, to the hotel. A man in a shabby frock-
coat received us, and Jo, mistaking him for the
innkeeper, clamoured once more for the Russians.
The shabby man explained that he was the Prefect,
and that this was a State reception. We began to
be awed by our own dignity. We explained to him
that the Shadow had changed his mind and had
sent Bogami instead.
Bogami brought our knapsacks to our room,
where he was immobilized by the sight of himself
in the looking-glass of the wardrobe ; probably
he had never seen such a thing before, and he
goggled at it. He at last backed slowly from the
room. We rested a while, then descended to find — the
Shadow.

54 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
He was rather hurt with us, and wanted to
know why the  we had gone off without him.
We explained, compared watches, and found that
Jan's was an hour too fast. The poor Shadow had
been chasing us on a borrowed horse, with our
permissions to travel in his pocket, and wildly
hoping that he would catch us up before we were
arrested as spies.
We had tea with the Russians in a httle arbour
on the roadside, and chewed sweets which had
just arrived from Petrograd, having been three
months on the journey, but none the worse for that.
Many officers came, amongst them the husband of
the httle Russian girl we had met at Prepolji.
They all seemed to be Voukotitches, and at last
the Sirdar himself honoured us. He is a huge
man, and yet seemed to take up more room than
his size warrants. He has a flat, almost plate-hke
face, with palhd blue eyes which seemed to focus
some way beyond the object of his regard. Were
his moustache larger he would be rather hke Lord
Kitchener, and he was very pleased at the obvious
compliment. He poses a httle, moves seldom but
suddenly, and shoots his remarks as though words
of command. He was very kind to us, and was
immensely astonished at Jo's Serbian, holding up
his hands and saying " Kako " at every one of her
speeches. He suggested that poor Bogami should

PRAZHNIK 55
be beaten, but we begged him off. Captain
Voukotitch, the husband of a day, was appointed
to be our guide for the morrow — because Jo spoke
Serbian. After tea we went up to the bubbly mosque,
which was in reality the Greek church. We
entered a large gate ; on the one side of a
yard was the church, and on the other a big two-
storied rest-house, where one could lodge while
paying devotions or doing pilgrimages. Its long
balconies were fiUed with country folk all come
for the festival, and who were feasting and laugh
ing as though the war did not exist. The court
yard was fiUed with men and women in Bosnian
costumes, white and dark red embroideries.
Through the open door of the church one could
see the silhouettes of the peasants bowing before
the Ikons and rehcs. It was almost dark, and
one man began to play a httle haunting melody
upon a wooden pipe, but though they hnked
arms and shuffled their feet, the young men did
not dance.
At supper the Shadow revealed a quaint sense
of humour, and so to bed.
The next morning was lovely, and we started
at seven with the youngest Voukotitch and the
others. Some officers had lent us their horses, and
Voukotitch had proudly produced his Enghsh

56 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON UK1JNA
saddle for Jo. On the road the spirit of mischief
entered him.
" You can ride all right," he said ; " wouldn't
you hke to go to the nearest machine-gun to the
Austrian hnes ? "
" Rather," said Jo.
" You'll have to do some stiff riding, though.
I know the major, and he is bored to death. He'U
let us." "But what about the buUets?" said the
Shadow. In time the major was produced, emerging
from a cottage by the roadside, other officers with
him, and we had a merry coffee party in an arbour.
One told Jo that he was a lawyer. The few
Montenegrins who had the misfortune to be
educated were not allowed to serve at the front,
but he had been lucky enough through influence
to be allowed to take a commission. He had not
seen much serious fighting, however, as no move
had been made for several months.
Then we tackled the hills. " Come along,"
said the major, cheerfully; and his horse's nose
went down and its tail went up, and off it shd
downhill. We had seen the Itahan officers do
such things on the cinematograph, but httle thought
that we should be in the same position. We
supposed it would be aU right. Jo's horse became

THE DREINA 57
nearly vertical, and she sat back against its tail.
Jan followed. Sometimes a sheet of rock was
across the path — then we shd ; sometimes the sand
became very soft — we shd again. Then a muddy
bit, and the horse squelched down on his hind
quarters. Here we met a Serbian captain who was in
charge of the battery. He was very lonely, and
dehghted to have a chance to talk, and he talked
hard aU day, showed us a neat reservoir his men had
built, explained to us that beautiful uniforms were
coming from Russia soon for the weirdly garbed
beings who were guarding the hills, and asked us
to lunch behind the trenches under a canopy of
boughs. While lunch was being prepared he took us
round his artiUery, and into his observation station
on the top of a crooked tree. Below us we could
see the river Dreina — on the other side of which
was Gorazhda, held by the Austrians — and the
fortified hills behind.
It seemed impossible that this wide peaceful
scene was menacing with a threat of death, yet at
intervals one could hear a faint " pop ! pop ! "
as though far-away giants were holding feast
and opening great champagne bottles. Away in
the hills could be seen an encampment of white
tents, which caused a mild excitement, for they

58 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
had not been there the day before, and we were
told that they were quite out of range.
During lunch the youngest Voukotitch tempted
the major — who was in splendid mood — suggest
ing that it was rather tame to go home after
having come within mere bowing distance of the
Austrians, and that a few stray buUets would not
incommode us.
The major saw reason fairly quickly, so we
bestrode our horses again and continued our
switchback course. At an open space where the
Austrians could shoot at us if they wished we
had to plunge down the hill quickly, keeping a
distance of . one hundred yards from each
other. The little Shadow prudently got off his horse
and used its body as a shield.
We banged at the door of a cottage, and a young
heutenant came out ; somebody said he was nine
teen and a hero.
Here we left our horses and began to scramble
through brambles along a narrow path, chmbing up
the back of a httle hill on the crest of which were
the machine guns. Just before we got to the top
we plunged into a tunnel which bored through the
hill ; at the end was the gun. The hero scrambled
in, wriggled the gun about and explained. He
invited Jo to shoot. She squashed past him ; there

SERB AND MONTENEGRIN OFFICERS ON THE DRINA.

A CONCEALED GUN EMPLACEMENT ON THE DRINA.

GORAZHDA 59
^as a knob at the back of the gun on which
SJle pressed her thumbs, and she immediately
wanted another pair with which to stop her
ears. The gun jammed suddenly. The hero
pulled the belt about, and Jo set it going once
more. Ihe Austrian machine guns answered back and
kept this up, so Jo pressed the knob again and yet
again. Then we got into the trenches above.
Whenever Jo popped her head over the trenches
for a good look there were faint reports from the
mountain opposite. One or two bullets whizzed
over our heads, and we reahzed that they were
aiming at Jo's big white hat.
Jan chmbed down the hill and took snap-shots
of Gorazhda ; the enemy got a couple of pretty
near shots at him.
When the Montenegrins thought this sport was
becoming monotonous they remembered the busi
ness of the day. A big house in Gorazhda was said
to be full of Hungarian officers, and they wanted to
get the range of this with one of the big guns. This
decision had been made a day or two before with
much dehberation. This they thought the State
could afford. The precious shell was brought out,
and every one fondled it.
Men were caUed out and huge preparations
were made for sighting and taking aim. We

60 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
scuttled round with field glasses, and finaUy stood
on tiptoe behind branches on a mound by the
side of the gun. There were many soldiers
fussing in the dug-out, and at last they pulled
the string.
" Goodness ! Now we've done it," Jo thought,
as the mountains sent back the fearful report in
decreasing echoes. We seemed to wait an eternity,
and then " something white " happened far beyond
the village.
The officers looked at each other with long faces.
" A bad miss — the expense."
We felt the resources of the Montenegrin
Empire were tottering. Awful ! Could they afford
another ?
Finally, with great courage, they decided that
it was better to spend two shells on getting a
decent aim than to lose one for nothing. The
terrific bang went off again, and this time the
" something white " happened right on the roof
of the house. The Hungarian officers aU ran out,
and the machine guns below jabbered at them.
Nobody was killed as far as we know, but every one
was content and dehghted.
Sunset was approaching, and we rode away
quickly, only stopping once to drag a reluctant
old Turk from the mountain side and make him
sing to the accompaniment of a one- stringed goosla.

RETURN FROM THE FRONT 61
He hated to do it as all his best songs were about
triumphant Mahommedans crushing Serbs, and of
course he couldn't sing those.
He sat grumpily cross-legged on the ground,
encircled by our horses, droning a song of two
notes, touching the string quickly with the flat
lower part of his fingers.
We left him very suddenly because the darkness
comes quickly in those hills, so we made for the
high-road as hard as we could.
We rode fast to the Colonel's cottage, sat down
to the dinner table, which was decked with pale
blue napkins, and a fine-looking old Voukotitch, an
ex-M.P. in national costume, acted as butler. In
spite of his seventy odd years he had joined the
army as a common soldier. He refused all invita
tions to sit with us, for he knew his place. The
young husband was his nephew, and they kissed
fondly on leave-taking.
We rode back in the moonlight. At one spot
on the road was a sawmill, and the huge white pine
logs lying aU about looked hke the fallen columns
of some ruined Athenian temple. We tried to
enjoy the moment, and to brush aside the awful
thought that we must remount Rosinante and Co.
next day.
The Shadow was terribly puffed up about
his feat. The following morning as we were

62 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON JJKI^a
sketching in the town, an officer approached
respectfully. " His excellency the Sirdar invites you to
supper," he said.
We considered a moment, for we had intended
to return to Plevhe. The Shadow broke in.
" It is inconvenient to come to supper," he
said to our horror. " Tell his excellency that the
gentleman and lady will come to lunch if he
wishes it."
The Sirdar meekly sent answer that lunch
would suit him very weU, and we could drive back
with him to Plevhe. " Would we come to his
house at 12.30 ? "
The Prefect told us that we ought to go to
the lunch at twelve, because the Sirdar's clock was
always half an hour fast. We arrived, but the
Sirdar evidently had been considering us, he did
not appear for the half an hour, so we sat with his
staff sipping rakia by the roadside.
The lunch was excellent, but the Sirdar's
carriage, hke every other carriage in Montenegro,
was a weird, ancient, rusty arabesquish affair,
tied together with wire. We had two resplendent
staff officers, armed to the teeth, who gaUoped
ahead, we had two superior non-coms., also armed
to the dentals, galloping behind, while on the box
sat a man with gun, pistols, sword, dagger and a

RETURN FROM THE FRONT 63
bottle of wine and water which we passed round
whenever the Sirdar became hoarse. The coach
man was as old and as shabby as his carriage, and
every five miles or so was forced to descend and
tie up yet another mishap with wire — ordinary
folks' carriages are only repaired with string.
The Sirdar occupied almost the whole of the
back seat, and Jo was squeezed into the crack
which was left. Jan was perched on a sort of
ledge, facing them. The carriage was narrow,
six legs were two too many for the space. Jan's
were the superfluous ones. He tried this pose, he
tried that, but in spite of his contortions he endured
much of the seven hours' journey in acute dis
comfort and the latter part in torture.
In spite of his throat the Sirdar did nearly all
the talking. The country we were passing through
were scenes of his battles : with one arm he threw a
company over this hill, with a hand, nearly hitting
Jan in the eye, he marched an army corps along
that valley ; he explained how he had been forced
to give up the Ministry of War because there was
no other efficient commander for the north.
A blue ridge of pine trees appeared on our right
hand. "You see those hills," said the Sirdar: "I'll
teU you the story of a reply of mine, a funny reply.
I ordered a general last winter to march across those

64 MONTENEGRIN FRONT ON DRINA
hills. He said that the troops would starve. I
looked him in the eye. Then you will eat wolves,
I shouted. He went."
If we passed peasants he stopped them. He
seemed to have an extraordinary memory for
names and faces.
" Never forget a face," he said, " never forget
its name. That is the secret of popularity."
He was very anxious that we should go to
Cettinje and to Scutari. He kindly promised to
see about it, to arrange for our horses and to have
our passage telegraphed before us. At Podgoritza
he said a government motor-car should wait for
us. He advised us to make a detour from the
straight road and to see the famous black lake
of Jabliak and the Dormitor mountains. We
thanked him gratefuUy. He waved our thanks
aside. " And I will write to my friend the Minister of
War. He wiU arrange that you go to Scutari."
He then explained all the reasons why Montenegro
should hold Scutari when the war was over.
" It was ours," he said ; " we only gave it up
to Venice so that she should protect us from the
Turk. If we do not hold Scutari, Montenegro can
never become a state, so if we cannot keep her we
might as well give up Cettinje. After all we are
but taking back what was once ours."

RUSSIAN UNIFORMS

65

He was daily expecting the uniforms from
Russia, and asked every soldier on the road
for news. At last one said that he had seen
them. " The stuff is rather thin, your excellency, but
the boots are splendid."

CHAPTER VI
NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
We were accosted by a clean-hmbed, joyous youth,
who bore on his cap the outstretched winged badge
of the pohce. He said —
" Mister Sirdar, he teU me take you alon' o'
Nickshitch." Sure enough the next morning there he was,
with three horses, which if not the identical animals
of our Chainitza trip were sisters or brothers to
them. It was a wretched day, gusty, and the rain
sweeping round the corners of the old streets.
Early as was the hour, the wretched prisoners were
peering through the lattice windows of their prison,
which evidently once had been the harem of
some wealthy Turk ; where beauties had once lain
on voluptuous couches, wretched criminals now
crouched half-starved, racked with disease, and as
we passed held out skinny arms. All Montenegrin
saddles are bound on with string, even those of the
highest in the land ; indeed, one cannot imagine
how the people did before string was invented, and
66

TO JABLIAK 67
ours began to shp before we were well clear of the
town. Necessary adjustments were made, and on
once more.
Our guide was well armed — he carried two
murderous-looking pistols, and a long rifle slung
over his back. He was in high spirits and showed
us that the proper way to ride Montenegrin horses
was to drop the reins on to the animal's neck, kick
it in the stomach with both feet, elevating your
arms and uttering the most unearthly yells. Thus
terrified, the unfortunate wreck would canter a few
yards, and our cicerone would turn in his saddle and
grin back at us, who were humanely contented
with the solemn jog-trot of our aged steeds along
the weU-worn horse-track — for there was no
road. We crawled along, wretched in the downpour,
the scenery completely hidden by the clouds ; but
towards midday, as we chmbed ever higher and
higher, we plunged into pine forests where the rain
began to thin to mist, veihng the trees with layers
of drifting fog. Out of the forests we came — the
rain having ceased — into a strange-looking land
scape, whose japanesiness is equalled possibly only
by Japan itself. There were the queer rounded hills,
the gnarled and twisted httle pines and dim fir-clad
slopes cutting the sky with sharp grey silhouettes.
Here we stopped to eat. We opened a tin of

68 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
meat and made rough sandwiches with the coarse
brown or black bread which is the staple food of
Serbian nations. When we were satisfied there was
meat left in the tin. Two wretched, ragged children
came on the road singing some half-Eastern chant,
and we hailed them. They refused the food with
dignity, and marched on offended.
We came to the Grand Canyon of Colorado — we
beg its pardon — of Montenegro, The Tara. Great
chffs towered high on either side, great grey, rugged
chffs topped with pine and scrub oak. Down,
down, down to the river, an hour, and we crossed
the bridge out of Novi Bazar into Montenegro —
thirty years free from the Turk. We halted at a
little coffee stall made of boughs. Jan wanted to
get a photo, but the women were so shy that Jo
had to push them out into the open.
On the way up the other chff our guide became
communicative. He had been in America, in the
mining camps, and spoke fair American.
" In ole days, dese was de borders," he said ;
" 'ere de Serb, 'n dere de Turk. Natchurally dey
'ate each oder. Dey waz two fellers 'ad fair cold
feet, one 'ere, one over dere, Turk 'n our chapy.
Every day dey come down to de ribber 'n dey plug 't
de odder chap wid dere ole pistols what filled at de
nose. But dey neber hit nuttin. One day de Serb
'e got mad and avade in de ribber, but 'e did'n 'it

THE TARA 69
de Turk. Nex' day dey bot' avade in 'arf way
across. Dey miss again. De tird day dey avades
in rite ter de middle, 'n each shoots up de odder
dead. Yessir, 'n dere bodies float down ter 'ere."
He looked up and pointed.
" Dey was a gooman up dere," he said.
"A gooman? "
' Yes, a man wat 'ad a gooman all to 'isself."
"!!!!"" Dey was an ole town all made o' stones,"
our guide explained, " where dis man made 'is
gooman. You know wat a gooman is ? — kill all de
fellers what pass 'n do wat you likes."
We understood suddenly that " Government "
was indicated.
" Dat's wat I say," he answered, " gooman —
'e was killed by a Montenegrin chap wat throwed
'im orf de chffs, 'n a Turk gets all 'is land. Dat's
'ow dey was done dose days. Dere ain't much 'o de
ole town lef now."
" We 'ad to chase de Turk outer 'ere," he went
on ; " lots 'o fighting, but we 'ad luck. You see,
dey 'ad two hnes, 'an we got de first hne before
'e was ready, 'n wiped 'im out, so de secon' hne
did'n know if it was 'im retreatin' or us advancin',
and we was into 'em before dey 'ad made up dere
minds. Yessir."
The ascent was terribly laborious. Our animals

70 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
were sweating, though they were carrying nothing
but the knapsacks.
" Ye see dat flat stone ? " said the guide. " Dat's
were de gooman feller 'ide 'is gold. Dey was tree
Itahans chaps 'ere 'n dey turn ober dat stone ter
roll it downill. 'N underneat was all dat feller's
gold. Dat madum larf, I tell yer."
We chmbed higher and yet higher ; we thought
we would never reach the crest. The sweat poured
from us, and we were drenched.
On the top there were but few stones of the old
castle, and we rode over the ruins. We passed
into a queer palhd country, pale grey houses, pale
yellow or pale green fields, grey sky and stones,
a violently rolling plain where our guide lost his
way, and we became increasingly aware of the
discomfort of our saddles, and prayed for the
journey to end.
We refound the route, and asked a peasant,
" How far to Jabliak ? "
" Bogami, quarter of an hour."
We cheered.
At the end of twenty minutes we asked once
more. " Bogami, quarter of an hour."
At the end of twenty minutes more we asked
again, our spirits were falhng.
" Bogami, quarter of an hour."

JABLIAK 71
"» * *!"
We then asked a peasant and his wife. The
woman considered for a moment.
" About an hour," she said.
Her husband turned and swore at her.
" Bogami, don't beheve her, gentlemen," he
cried, " it's only a quarter of an hour."
We left them quarrelhng.
It grew dark, and we grew miserable. Jabhak
seemed hke a dream, and we hke poor wandering
Jews, cursed ever to roam on detestable saddles in
this queer palhd country.
At last a peasant said it was five minutes off,
and then it reaUy was a quarter of an hour
distant. We came down from the hiUs to find the whole
aristocracy — one captain — not to say all their
populace, out on the green to do us honour. They
had been informed by telegraph of our august
decision to sleep in their wooden village. When
we got off our horses our knees were so cramped
that we could scarcely stand, and we hobbled after
the captain into a bitterly cold room without
furniture. Various Montenegrins came and looked
at us, and an old veterinary surgeon, also en route,
but in the opposite direction, conversed in bad
German. The old vet. was a Roumanian, and the
only animal doctor in all Montenegro.

72 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
To their great surprise we demanded something
to eat. " Supper is at nine," they said severely.
" But we have had nothing since ten this
morning," we protested.
" But supper will be ready at nine," they said
again. After a lot of trouble we got some scrambled
eggs, but nothing would persuade our guide, whose
name, by the way, was " Mike," to have anything.
It almost seemed improper to eat at the wrong
hours, even if one was hungry.
After supper we sat growing colder and
colder. At last, in desperation, we asked if
there were no place in the village which had a
fire. " Oh yes, there is a fire in the other cafe," and
thither we were conducted.
We were in a joUy wooden room, with a blazing
stove and a most welcome fugginess. The hostess
brought us rakia, coffee and walnuts, and did her
utmost to make us comfortable. Montenegrins
crowded in, and discussed the probable end of the
war. There was httle enthusiasm shown, most of
the talk was of the hardships, and a httle grumbhng
that the farms were going to pieces because of the
lack of men.
Before leaving Plevhe, Dr. Clemow had

JABLIAK 73
presented Jan with a box of Red Cross cigars,
and he handed one to the captain. The official
received it gratefully.
" Ah ! " he said. " Cigars, eh ! One does not
often see those nowadays."
The cigar was a Trichinopoh. Jan said nothing,
but watched. The captain ht the cigar manfully,
and for some minutes puffed, looking the apotheosis
of aristocracy. Presently his puffing ceased, he
looked thoughtful, and then saying that he had
forgotten an important paper which he had not
signed, he fled. We found the cigars most useful
afterwards, as a sort of spiritual disinfector, in
fallible against bores.
Into the cracks of the ceihng were stuck white
and yeUow flowers, thyme and other plants, till
the roof looked hke an inverted flower-bed. We
had noticed this custom before, and asked Mike if
it had any significance.
" Oh yes," he answered, " all dose tings, dey
stuck up dere 'gainst de fleas 'n bugs."
This was translated into Serbian, and the woman
boxed his ears.
We supped on meat — three courses — meat,
meat, meat, and so tough that our teeth bounced off,
and we were compelled to bolt the morsels whole.
One course tired us out, weary as we aheady were
with our journey, but Mike, making up for his

74 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
former abstinence, wolfed all his own share and
what remained over from ours.
The night was so cold that we went to bed in
our clothes, and even then could not sleep for
hours. We woke with difficulty to a glorious day, and
found that what we had thought yesterday to be
a plain was in truth a great plateau surrounded by
towering grey mountains on which were gulfs
and gulhes filled with eternal snow. Jabhak is a
queer village, fifty or sixty weathered wooden
houses — with the high-peaked roof of Northern
Serbia— flung down into this wilderness, where the
grass and crops fight for existence with the pushing
stones, and where the summer is so short that the
captain's plum tree — the only one — will not ripen
save in exceptional years. Never a wheel comes
to Jabhak, and so it is a village without streets.
Everything which passes here is horse- or woman-
borne, and for hay they use long narrow sledges
which shde over the stones and shppery grass as
though it were snow.
" Urrgh," said a man, " you should see this in
winter. Snow ten and twelve feet deep, and only
just the roofs and the tops of the telegraph-poles
emerging." The village escorted us to see the famous Black
Lake below the peaks of Dormitor.

THE BLACK LAKE 75
The lake is beautiful enough, but too big for
mystery, too small to be impressive. One had
imagined it twinkling hke the wicked pupil of a
witch's eye, with cornea of white stones and eye
lashes of pine trees, and we desecrated even its
stillness by shooting at wild duck with a rifle.
Jan had been describing to the villagers how
well Jo rode ; they now think he is a har. Her
horse took an unexpected jump at a small obstacle ;
the huge hump at the back of the saddle rose
suddenly, threw her forward, and before she had
reahzed anything, she was hanging almost upside
down about the horse's neck, helpless because of the
enormous steeple in front. This horse, as though
quite used to similar occurrences, stood quietly
contemplative, till Mike had restored her to a
perpendicular. Then on again. At times the tracks grew very
muddy, and the horses side-shpped a good deal.
At the top of a pass we halted to get coffee from
a leafy hut. Before us were the mountains of
Voynik, a blue ridge with shadowy, strange
crevasses and chffs ; behind us Dormitor was still
visible, a faint stain on the sky, as though that
great canopy had been dragging edges in the dew.
Four women clambered up towards us. When
they had reached the top they flung down their
enormous knapsacks and sat down. They were a

76 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
cheery, pretty set, and we asked them where they
were going.
" To the front," they said.
" What for ? "
" Those are for our husbands and brothers,"
answered they, patting the huge coloured knap
sacks. " How far have you to walk ? " we asked.
" Four more days."
" And how far have you walked ? "
" Four days."
No complaining, no repining, just a statement
of fact, these women were cheerfully tramping
eight days with bundles weighing from 45 to 50
pounds upon their backs, to take a few luxuries,
or necessities, to their fighting kin.
We bade them a jolly farewell, wished them
luck, and started downhill.
The track became so steep that we had to
descend from our horses and walk, and so we came
to Shavnik. Shavnik is not of wood ; it is stone, and as we
came into its httle square — with the white river
bed on one side — we reahzed that no welcome
attended us. To our indignant dismay the inn
was full, and no telegram from the " State " had
arrived. We learned that in Montenegro are two kinds

PEASANT WOMEN OF THE MOUNTAINS.

A VILLAGE OF NOETH MONTENEGEO.

THE SIRDAR'S RIDE 77
of travellers — royalties and nobodies. Royalties
are done for, nobodies do the best they can. We
found a not overclean room over a shop — there
was nothing better — we had already experienced
worse : so we ordered supper, and went off to the
telegraph station, to make sure that we arrived
as " Royalty " at the next stop.
A man suddenly burst into the office, crying,
"Sirdar! Sirdar!"
Jo and Jan made their way through the dark
ness to the inn, squeezed between sweating horses
to the door. We were admitted.
The Sirdar received us kindly, but was dreadfuUy
tired, and looked years older than he had two days
before. He had ridden some 150 kilometres in
sixteen hours, had left Chainitza at two o'clock in
the morning, and had been in the saddle ever since.
He is a famous horseman, but is no longer young.
Almost all his escort had succumbed to the speed,
and he was fuU of the story of his orderly's horse
which had done 300 kilometres in four days, and
was the only animal which had come through with
him, he having changed mounts at Plevhe. We
left him and went straight to bed.
Just as we were comfortably dozing off, a
man burst into the room and demanded " Mike,"
and said something about a horse. Jan dressed
hurriedly and clattered downstairs. It was pitch

78 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
dark. He ran to the stable, felt his way in, and
struck a match. There were two horses, one was
lying on its side, evidently foundered and dying
but Jan felt that they would not have disturbed
him for that. By matchhght again he found that
his own horses had been turned out by the Sirdar's
orderly, and that one was missing. Mike was not
to be found, but the missing horse was discovered
by a small boy in the dry river-bed apparently in
search of water. Jan retired to his bedroom to
find that in his absence two more strangers had
burst in, to Jo's indignation. He pushed them out
and locked the door.
When we awoke the Sirdar had already retaken
his whirlwind course — evidently grave news caUed
him to Cettinje — leaving the orderly's gaUant horse
dead behind him.
" He kills many horses," said a peasant, shaking
his head ; " he rides fast — always."
We crossed the dry bed of the river and prepared
for the hill in front of us. Suddenly Mike's horse
plunged into a bog. The poor beast sprawled in
the treacherous green up to its stomach, and, think
ing its last hour had come, groaned loudly. Mike
threw himself from the saddle, and with great
effort at last extracted his horse, which emerged
trembhng and dripping with shme. Mike grinned
ruefully.

TURKISH ROADS 79
" I orter remembered," he admitted. " Sirdar,
'e get in dere one day 'imself."
This day's riding was the worst we had yet
experienced. Our horses were fagged, the road
abominable, great stones everywhere on the de
generated Turkish roads.
The Turkish road is a narrowish path of flat
paving-stones laid directly upon mother earth :
but that is the first stage. In the second stage the
paving-stones have begun to turn and he hke slates
on a roof ; in the third they have turned completely
on edge, hke a row of dominoes, and the horses,
stepping dehcately between the obstacles, pound
the exposed earth to deep trenches of semi-hquid
mud. In the fourth stage the stones have entirely
disappeared, leaving only the trenches which the
horses have formed, so that the path is hke a sheet of
violently corrugated iron. Most of the tracks are
now between the third and fourth stages of degene
ration. One never knows how far the horse will
plunge his legs into the trenches, for sometimes they
are very shaUow, and sometimes the leg is engulfed
to the shoulder.
Jan's horse slipped over one domino, went
up to the shoulder into a trench, and off came the
rider. Luckily he fell upon a heap of stones, and
not into the mud, but he decided for all that to
walk for a bit.

80 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
Every now and then one came across traces of
the construction of a great road — white new stone
embankments that started out of nothing, and
went to nowhere, and Mike confessed that he had
lost the path once more —
" When I come out of dat confounded mod ! "
After a hustle across country we found the
road, and wished that we had not, for
it was a Turkish track in its most belhgerent
form. At last we reached the top and rested awhile.
Mike showed us his revolver.
" He good revolver," he said. " De las' man I
shoot he killin' a vooman. I come. He run away.
I tell 'im to stop, but he no stop, so I shoot 'im
leg. 'E try to 'it me wi' a gon."
The man got fourteen years.
We pushed on again, and on the road picked up
an overcoat, which later we were able to restore to
its owner, a Turk, who was going to Nickshitch to
buy sugar and salt for Plevhe.
Bits of the big white road appeared and re
appeared with insistence. We asked who was
responsible for its inception.
" Sirdar," said Mike ; " he good boy. Much
work." The country was now hke brown velvet spread
over heaps of gigantic potatoes.

A MONTENEGRIN INN 81
Our horses grew slower and slower, and the
inn which we were seeking seemed ever further and
further away. We passed many peasants, and had
evidently entered the land of Venus, for each one
was more beautiful than the neighbour. Since
Jabhak we had not seen an ugly man or woman,
and the dignity of their carriage was exceeded only
by the nobleness of their features. Ugly women
must be valuable in these parts, and probably
marry early ; humans ever prize the rare above
the beautiful.
Mike spoke to many of the girls, asking them
their names and of their homes. One had his
own name — which we forget — and he said that she
must be his cousin, and that if she would wait where
she was he would come back later and give her
a hft. At last we came to the wooden inn.
The better-class inns have dining-room and
kitchen separate, the second-class both are one,
but in each case the fire is made on a heap of earth
piled in the centre of the floor ; there is no chimney,
and the smoke fills the room with a blue haze,
smarting in the eyes ; it drifts up to the roof, where
hams are hung, and finds its way out through the
cracks in the wooden roofing slats. This inn was
second-class, and along one wall was a deep trough,
in which were four huge lumps of a white substance G

82 NORTHERN MONTENEGRO
which puzzled us. First we thought it was snow,
but that seemed impossible ; then we thought it was
salt — but why ?
It was snow, there being no water fit to drink,
so the snow was stored in the winter in huge under
ground cellars.
We got coffee and kaimak — a sort of cross
between sour milk and cream cheese — and as a
great honour the lady of the house, a villainously
dirty-looking woman, brought us two eggs. Jan's
was bad, but he put it aside, saying nothing, for it
is impossible to explain to these people what is a
" bad " egg — all are ahke to them.
We took an affectionate leave of Mike, for here
we degenerated to a carriage, which was waiting
us, and he rode off, dragging our tired horses behind
him. As we were getting into the carriage the dirty
woman ran up and, before Jo could ward it off,
planted a loving kiss on either cheek.
We flung our weary hmbs upon the rusty
cushions. Our driver was a cheery f eUow, who only
answered " quite " to everything we said. We
drove through miles of country so stony that all
the world had turned grey as though it had remem
bered how old it was. The road twisted and curled
about the mountains hke the flourish of Corporal
Trim's stick : below one could see the road, only half

NICKSHITCH 83
a mile off as the crow flies, but a good five miles
by the curves. We were blocked by a great hay-
cart. Our driver shouted and cursed without effect,
so he chmbed down from the box, and, running
round the hay, slashed the driver of it with his
whip. We expected a free fight, but nothing
occurred. When the hay had modestly drawn
aside, we found " only a girl." Poor thing ! she
looked rueful enough.
The road was the best we had seen in all the
Balkans, white and well-surfaced hke an Enghsh
country highway, and at last we clattered into
Nickshitch, the most important town of Northern
Montenegro. It was hke a fair-sized Cornish village,
with httle stone houses and stone-walled gardens
fiUed with sunflowers.
A charming old major came to the inn to do us
the honour we had telegraphed for, and together
we stroUed about the streets. There is a pretty
Greek church at one end on a formal mound, and
behind the town runs a sheer fin of rock topped by
an old castle where once had hved another man
who " was a gooman all to hisseU ; " now it is a
monastery, and one of the most picturesque in
Montenegro. We dined upon beautiful trout fresh from the
river, and large green figs. Undressing, Jan found
a louse in his shirt — that came from the dirty

84

NORTHERN MONTENEGRO

bedroom at Shavnik evidently. He went to bed,
but his troubles were not yet over; there was another
foreign presence, a presence which raised large
and itching lumps. He hunted without success for
some time, but at last caught and exterminated an
enormous bug. After which there was peace.

CHAPTER VII
TO CETTINJE
The rain poured all night. At five o'clock they called
us, telhng us not to wake up as the motor would
come later. At six they knocked again, saying —
" Get up quickly ; the carriage is at the door."
No explanations.
We hurried so much that we left our best soap
and our mascot, a beautiful little wooden chicken,
behind for ever. The major was waiting in the
bar room.
We were sorry to say good-bye, he was lonely,
and we hked him ; but we lost no time, as we were
seven hours from Podgoritza and goodness knows
how far from Cettinje.
The carriage and coachman were the same as
yesterday's, but his expression was so lugubrious
in the downpouring rain that he looked another
man. Just outside the viUage he picked up a friend
and put her in the carriage. She was a velvet-
coated old lady with a flat white face and two
85

86 TO CETTINJE
bright birdhke brown eyes which she never took
off us. Conversation was impossible, as she had
only one tooth, round which her speech whistled
unintelligibly, and she hiccuped loudly once in
every half-hour. We were most uncomfortable.
The hood was up, and a piece of tarpauhn was
stretched from it across to the coachman's seat,
blocking out the view except for the httle we could
see through a tiny triangle.
What with three humans, our bags, the old
lady's bundle, and an enormous sponge cake, we
were very cramped, and whenever we tried to move
a stiffened knee her bright eye was on it, and she
made some suitable remark to which we always had
to answer with " Ne rasumem," " I don't under
stand," the while beaming at her to show we
appreciated her efforts to put us at our ease.
The mist and rain entirely obscured the view.
Now and then a tree showed as a thumb-mark
on the grey. We httle knew that we were passing
through some of the most marvellous scenery in
Europe. The carriage settled down with a bump. Some
thing wrong with the harness ; string was produced,
and it was made usable for the next half-hour.
Carriages in Montenegro must have been designed
in the days when builders thought more of volup
tuous curves than of breaking strains, for we have

" WRITING " 87
never been in one of them without many halts,
during which the coachman endeavoured to tie
the carriage together with string or wire to prevent
it from coming in two.
We stopped at wayside inns and pohtely treated
the old lady to coffee at a penny a cup to make up
for our inappreciation of her conversational powers.
Women passed carrying the usual enormous
bundles. Sometimes they were accompanied by
husbands or brothers, who strolled along entirely
unladen. Jo busily sketched everybody she saw.
Passers-by demanded, " What is she doing % "
and the onlookers answered —
" She is writing us ; " for everything that is
done with pencil on paper is to them writing.
One pretty young woman shook her fist,
laughing —
" If I could write, I would write you" she
said. We were no longer in the Sanjak. Turkish
influence had vanished, and we longed to see the
famous Black Mountains of old Montenegro.
At Danilograd we marvelled at the enormous
expensive bridge which seemed to lead to nothing
but a couple of tiny villages. We missed the
picturesque Turkish houses, built indeed only for
to-day hke their roads, but full of unexpected

88 TO CETTINJE
corners and mysterious balconies. The Monte
negrin houses were small and simple, four walls
and a roof, hke the drawing of a three-year-old
child. The only thing lacking was the curly smoke
coming from the chimney. Broad streets hned
with these houses were unexhilarating in effect,
and would have been more depressing except for
the bright colours with which they were painted.
When the horses were replete after their midday
meal we loaded up, adding to our numbers a
taciturn man who sat on the box. We rolled on to
Podgoritza, arriving at two o'clock in a steady
downpour. Podgoritza seemed unaware of our arrival. The
streets were empty, and the Prefect's offices were
tenanted only by the porter, a Turk, who remarked
that the Prefect was taking his siesta, and seemed
to think that was the end of it.
This was awful, after being Highnesses for a
week, to be treated just hke ordinary people, and
perhaps to lose all chance of reaching Cettinje that
night. " Produce the Prefect," said Jo, stamping her
foot, but the Turk only smiled and suggested a
visit to the adjutant's office. Back to the carriage
we went and drove to a place hke a luggage dep6t.
No adjutant, nothing but gigghng boys. Our
coachman became restive and said his horses were

POD 89
tired of the rain, so we deposited the old lady,
substituted a man in American clothes who seemed
sympathetic, and drove back to the Prefect's office
with him. There we found a sleepy heutenant who
ordered coffee, while our American-speaking friend
explained to him that we were very Great People,
and that something ought immediately to be done
for us. So the officer promised to get the Prefect
as soon as possible, and we went to the hotel to
drink more coffee with our baggy-trousered friend,
who told us that he was one of a huge contingent of
Montenegrins who had travelled from America to
fight for the httle country. " Say, who are your
pals ? " said a nasal voice, and the owner, a pleasant-
looking man in a broad-shouldered mackintosh, took
a seat at our table. He was also a Montenegrin,
and had been mining in America for some years.
More coffees were ordered. We confided to the
new American Montenegrin that we did not hke
Podgoritza, and he tried to find excuses — the hour,
the bad weather. The hotel-keeper came up and
intimated in awestruck tones that the Prefect
had just looked in with some friends.
Our appearance did not seem to impress the
Prefect in the least, and small wonder. He owned
to having received a telegram about us, but there
was no motor-car available for that day, and he
departed.

90 TO CETTINJE
"The Prefect is only more unpleasant than
Podgoritza," said Jo to the American in the
mackintosh ; but he deduced dyspepsia.
The Prefect, having been to his office and having
seen the heutenant, came back in five minutes,
rather more suave in manner, and announced
impressively that he was going to give us his own
carriage. But the rain, the gigghng boys, the smiling
Turk, and the sudden drop from royalty to in
significance had been rankling in Jo's mind. She
sat back haughtily and remarked —
" But the Sirdar promised us a motor-car."
" I will go and see if it is possible," said the
Prefect, and he dashed out into the rain. He
returned full of apologies. All the motors were
out, but he would send his carriage round im
mediately. " A dehghtful carriage," he added.
It arrived — a landau such as one would find at
Waddingsgate-super-Mare, so free from scars that
every Montenegrin turned to look at it.
The hotel-keepers, our American friends, and
the Prefect and his captain stood pointing out
its beauties, and we left them standing in the
rain. " I shall always put on side in this country,"
said Jo as she bit a large mouthful of cheese.
We pounded along, and the day slowly grew

TO CETTINJE 91
darker. We passed an encampment, where the
firelight thrown up on to the trees made a weird
and jolly sight.
The hours passed by slowly. Suddenly (our
coachman was probably dozing) we ran into
something. It was a carriage, a square grey thing.
Our coachman howled to it, and it started slowly
forward up the steep hill. A bright hght streamed
from the windows and cut a radiant path in the
foggy rains. Some one threw away a cigar-end.
The wet road shining in the glare of our pink
candles, and •yhe hghtning flashing intermittently
so that the mountain-tops sprang out to disappear
again in the darkness ; we felt as if we were
hving in the introduction of a mystery story from
the Strand Magazine.
At last in the misty rain we saw the aura of
the hghts of Cettinje. At last we wound slowly
into wet streets, passed our mysterious compamon
without being able to see who was in it, and so to
the hotel. Since the morning we had driven four
teen hours, and we were glad beyond measure to
stretch and to find really comfortable beds.
The next day we got up early. There was
much to do. We were to see the War Minister
about Scutari, to present a letter of introduction
to the Enghsh minister, and to inspect the town.
Nature has half filled a big crater with silt, and

92 TO CETTINJE
the Montenegrins have half covered it with
Cettinje. It is a polychromatic village of httle square
houses, cheerfully dreary, and one does not see its
uses except to be out of the way. The only building
with any architectural beauty is the monastery
where the old bishops reigned, and which must have
many a queer tale to tell.
Asking for the Count de Salis, the Enghsh
minister, we were directed to the diplomatic street,
a collection of tiny houses grouped respectfully
in front of the Palace, which itself was no larger
than a Park Lane house laid edgeways, and with
the paint peeling from its walls.
Over the front door of each httle house a sort
of barber's pole stuck outwards, striped with the
national colours of the minister hving within.
We noticed with pride and rehef that the Count
de Salis' pole was painted a reticent white. The
sympathetic old lady who opened the door directed
us to the Legation. There we found him inspecting
the damages wreaked by the storm of overnight.
The Legation was big and cold, and as the handsome
fireplaces sent out by the British Board of Works
were for anthracite only (and Montenegro produces
only wood), the Enghsh minister preferred his
warm cottage to the unheated Palace.
He wished us luck in our quest for Scutari, and

THE MINISTER AND PRINCE PETER 93
asked us to tea. We then hurried to an awful
building where the governing of Montenegro was
done — a concrete erection, presented to Monte
negro by the British Government, and an exact
imitation of one of our workhouses. Here we
found the Minister of War, a gorgeously dressed
httle man with a pleasant grandfatherly gleam in
his eye. He only spoke Serbian, but with him was
an unshaven young man whose chest was covered
with gold danglers, who immediately began to
air his quite passable French. We explained what
we had been doing and what we wanted to do.
The War Minister had not heard of US from the
Sirdar, who had been resting after his terrific ride,
but said that they were to see each other that day.
The httle man beamed upon us, and said they
always wished to do anything for the Enghsh, but
he must first see the Sirdar.
" By the bye," he said, " I forgot to introduce
you. This is Prince Peter, commander of the
forces on the Adriatic coast." The young man
arose and chcked his heels. We too got up. He
shook hands with us solemnly, and Jo, unused to
addressing Royalty, said, "Dobra Dan" (Good
day). Then we all sat down again, a further rendezvous
was arranged for the evening, and we left, carrying
away the impression that the War Minister and

94 TO CETTINJE
we had bowed thirty times to each other before we
got out of the door.
Out in the streets, as we were sketching, we
saw a large smile under a Staff officer's cap bearing
down upon us. It was the Sirdar, quite rested
and looking twenty years younger. He was going
to the War Minister's, and promised to arrange at
once for our visit to Scutari. He looked at our
cryptic drawings of road scavengers, threw up
his hands and ejaculating " Kako " — strode out
of our hves.
Tea in the httle house with the discreet white
pole was a great pleasure. Such tea we had not
drunk since leaving England — butter, jam made
by the old housekeeper, who pointed this out to
us when she brought in a relay of hot water.
She was the daughter of a man who had been
exiled from his village because he had taken a
prominent part in a blood feud, and the old Gospodar
had told him he would be healthier elsewhere.
So they had emigrated as far as Serbia, where she
had learnt to read and write.
A lady of good family but bad character
suddenly decided to leave Montenegro, and fled to
the shores of Cattaro, carrying with her a large
number of State secrets. The Court was aghast.
What was to be done ?
A villain was needed. The father was decided

THE OLD DAYS 95
upon, and with the help of the lady's brothers she
was kidnapped, carried back to Montenegro, and
disappeared for ever. For which noble work he
was permitted to return to his village.
The old lady had a supreme contempt for the
Montenegrins who had not " traveUed," but she
looked upon the growing pomp of the Court with
suspicion. " Ah," she said, " those were fine days when the
king was only the Gospodar, and there were none of
these gold embroidered uniforms about, and the
Queen and I used to shde down the Palace banisters
together." In those days the Royal family inhabited the
top story only, while the ground floor was filled with
wood for the winter. Just round the corner was
the old pink palace, now used as a riding school.
It had been the first place in Montenegro to possess
a billiard-table. So, bilhard-tables being rarer
and more curious than kings — the palace had been
called the Billiado.
The Queen, whatever agihty she may have
possessed once when navigating banisters, is now a
sedate and domestic person, and doesn't hold with
bluestockings, notwithstanding the " Higher Educa
tion " of some of her daughters.
The story goes that once when the King was
away she inaugurated one of those thorough-paced

96 TO CETTINJE
spring cleanings dear to most women's hearts ;
ordered the dining-room furniture into the street,
and superintended the beating of it. Women hold
a poor position in Montenegro, but one of character
can carry all before her. A weU-known Enghsh
nurse was managing a hospital in Cettinje during
the first Balkan War. One of her patients, though
well connected as peasants often are in Montenegro,
was a drunken old reprobate, and she told the
authorities he must go. They demurred — his
relations must not be offended. She insisted.
They did nothing. One morning they found him,
bed and all, in the middle of the street opposite
the King's palace.
The authorities swallowed their lesson.
In the evening we walked over the stony hiUs
with our host, and first had a ghmpse of the real
character of the country which had for so long
kept the Turks at bay. One reahzed how much the
people owed to the land for their boasted inde
pendence. Barren rock and scrub oak, no army
could live here in sufficient numbers to subdue
even a semi- warlike nation. Cettinje has been
burned many a time by the Moslem, but starvation
eventuaUy drove him back to the fatter plains
of the Sanjak, leaving a profitless victory behind
him. Napoleon and Moscow over again.
More miners from America passed with their

DR. OB 97
showy machine-woven clothes, accompanied by
their wives, who had evidently stayed behind in
the old country. Otherwise they would have
picked up new-fangled ideas about the rights of
women, and would certainly have refused to
shoulder the enormous American suit cases while
their men ambled carelessly in front.
The next day we had a further interview with
the War Minister, who introduced to us a man in
corduroys, the only really round-faced person we
had met in Montenegro. Part of his name was
" Ob," so as we forgot the rest of it we called him
Dr. Ob. He was the minister of drains, and such
things. As nothing had been previously explained
to him about us, he covered his mystification by
haihng us jovially, after which he misconstrued
everything we said.
He became very excited when we said we had
brought 14,000 kilos of stores into Montenegro.
" But we have not got it yet," he ejaculated.
We explained that it was for the Enghsh hospital,
and he subsided, very disappointed.
Scutari was talked over again, and Dr. Ob
promised to come and tell us that evening if
Cettinje could supply a motor for the next morning.
More bows and smiles, and we left wondering.
Montenegrins always promise even when they have
no intention of performance — something like the
h

98

TO CETTINJE

stage Irishman, — and we were surprised when Dr.
Ob met us in the evening and said that the motor
was arranged for next morning at eight.
We tea'd with the count once more. In the
next house hved a gorgeous old gentleman, and we
heard that he had been War Minister for forty odd
years. After thirty years or so of office it was
considered that he could better uphold the dignity
of his position were he able to sign his name. So he
had to learn.

CHAPTER VIII
THE LAKE OF SCUTARI
Dr. Ob, dressed in thick corduroys and an enormous
pith helmet, arrived punctually with the motor,
a Montenegrin Government motor. He had two
companions, a girl simply dressed with coat and
skirt which did not match, and cotton gloves whose
burst finger ends were not darned, a Miss Petro-
vitch, and an officer. The coachwork — if one
may dignify it by such a phrase — which was made
from packing cases, had a thousand creaks and
one abominable squeak, which made conversation
impossible. The scenery was all grey rock and
httle scrubby trees ; the road was magnificent and
wound and twisted about the mountain side hke
a whip lash. Driving down these curves was no
amateur's game, and we saw immediately that our
chauffeur knew his job. We came over a ridge, and
in the far distance, gleaming hke the sun itself, a
corner of the Lake of Scutari showed between two
hiU crests.
We ran into a fertile valley, passed through
Rieka — where was the first Slavonic printing-press
99

100 THE LAKE OF SCUTARI
— and up into the barren mountains once more.
The peasants seem very industrious, every httle
pocket of earth is here carefuUy cultivated and
banked almost in Arab fashion. The houses, too,
were better, and rather Itahan with painted
balconies, but are built of porous stone and are
damp in winter. The Rieka river ran along the
road for some way, very green and covered with
water-hly pods.
We passed a standing carriage, in which was a
large man in Montenegrin clothes, and a httle
further on passed a man in a grey suit walking.
Dr. Ob gesticulated wildly, and pulled up the
motor to gather in a Frenchman — somebody in the
French legation who was going to Scutari for a
week end. He turned suddenly to Jan.
" Ce n'est pas une vie, monsieur," were the first
words he uttered. He admired Miss Petrovitch
very much, and told us in an undertone that she
was a daughter of the governor of Scutari, niece of
the King of Montenegro, and one of " les families
le plus chic."
We descended steeply to the Port, ten variously
coloured houses and twenty-five variously clothed
people. Miss Petrovitch, to our amazement, em
braced a rather dirty old peasant, the doctor dis
appeared to find us luncheon, the Frenchman to
wash, and we strolled about.

A LOVE OF ROYALTY 101
A voice hailed us, and turning round, we found
our mackintoshed American of Pod. We took him
to the inn and stood him a drink. Dr. Ob came in
and we introduced ; but Dr. Ob was sniffy and the
American shy. His home was near by and he
wished us to visit him, but there was no time.
We lunched in a bedroom plastered with pictures.
Montenegrins seem to be ashamed of walls, and they
adore royalty. In every room one finds portraits
of the King of Montenegro, the queen, the princes,
the King of Italy, his queen, the Tzar of Russia,
the grand dukes and duchesses, the King of Serbia
and his princes, and to cap all a sort of compre
hensive tableau of all the male crowned heads of
Europe — including Turkey — balanced by another
commemorating all the queens of Europe- — exclud
ing Turkey — the spaces left between these august
people are filled with family portraits, framed
samplers, picture postcards or a German print
showing the seven ages of man over a sort of step-
ladder. After lunch, loaded with grapes which Miss
Petrovitch's peasant friend brought us, we trooped
down to the steamer, which had been an old Turkish
gun monitor and had been captured when the
Montenegrins took Scutari.
The boat was crowded, and the Frenchman took
refuge in the captain's cabin, which was crammed

102 THE LAKE OF SCUTAKi
with red pepper pods, and went to sleep. Jo
began sketching at once. There were two full-
blooded niggers aboard with us: they were de
scendants of the Ethiopian slaves of the harems ;
but the race is dying out, for the chmate does not
suit them. We steamed out into the lake, down
the "kingly" canal, a shallow ditch in the mud.
Magnificent mountains rush down on every side
to the water, in which stunted willow trees with
myriad roots — hke mangroves — find an amphibious
existence. We passed through their groves, hoot
ing as though we were leaving Liverpool, and out
into the eau-de-nil waters of the open lake.
In three hours we reached Plavnitza, a quay on
the mud, where more passengers were waiting for
our already crowded craft. There were officers,
peasants, Turks, and soldiers clad in French fire
men's uniforms. These uniforms, by the way,
caused a lot of ill-feeling in Montenegro. The
French sent them out in a spirit of pure economical
charity, and had the Frenchmen not been, on the
average, small, and the Montenegrin, contrariwise,
large, perhaps the gift would have been received
with a better grace ; but the sight of these enormous
men bursting in all places from their all too tight
regimentals, was ludicrous, and the soldiers felt
it keenly. Two women came aboard, attached to officers,

GOVERNOR PETROVITCH 103
and wearing long light blue coats, the ceremonious
dress of all classes; one carried a wooden cradle
strapped on her back, the woman with no cradle
had in her arms a baby of some ten or eleven
months, which she fed alternately on grapes and
pomegranate seeds. With each was a large family
including a beastly httle boy who spat all over the
decks, and one of the fathers, a stern gold-laced
officer, carried a dogwhip with which to rule his
offspring. After a while we caught sight of Tarabosch, the
famous mountain, and then the silhouette of the
old Venetian fortress. From the water projected
the funnels of yet another Turkish ship which had
been sunk in the Balkan war, and we steamed into
the amphibious trees on the mudflats of Scutari.
A boat with chairs in it came for us and we
disembarked. The boat was rather hke one of
those that children make from paper, called cocked
hats, only rather elongated, and the rowers pushed
at the oars which hung from twisted osier loops.
Governor Petrovitch met us on the quay. He was
a fine-featured old man dressed in all the barbaric
splendour of a full national costume, pale green
long-skirted coat, red gold embroidered waistcoat,
and baggy dark blue knee breeches with a huge
amount of waste material in the seat. He kissed
his daughter and greeted us genially. We clambered

104

THE LAKE W suuiAru

into the usual dilapidated cab with the usual
dilapidated horses, and off to the hotel.
The women on the roadside were clad in
picturesque ever-varying costumes. There were
narrow carts with high Indian-hke wheels studded
with large nails ; there were Albanians in costumes
of black and white, everything we had hoped or
expected.

CHAPTER IX

SCUTARI
After a wash we went into the streets. It was the
Orient, just as Eastern as Colombo or Port Said.
The httle fruit and jewellers' shops with square
lanterns, the tailors sitting cross-legged in their
windows, the strange medley of costumes — even
the long lean dogs looked as if they had been
kicked from the doors of a thousand mosques.
We left the shops for further explorations.
Scutari has always been described as such a
beautiful town. The adjective does not seem
picturesque : yes, quaint, strange decidedly.
One's second impression after the shops is this : —

Miles and miles of walls with great doors.
The main streets branch out into thousands of
impasses each ending in a locked door. There are
hardly any connecting streets, for somebody's

105

106 SCUTARI
walled garden is between. The Mahommedans
hide in seclusion on one side of the town, while
their hated enemies the Christians hve on the other.
Each house, Turk or Christian, has the same air of
defiant privacy, the only difference being that
the Turk's windows are blocked with painted
lattice. The Mahommedan women's faces are
covered with several thicknesses of chiffon, generally
black, while the Christian peasant women walk
about with an eye and a half peering from the
shrouding folds of a cotton head shawl which they
hold tightly under their noses.
With difficulty we found the Enghsh consul's
house, as the Albanians speak no Serb and Monte
negrins were not to be found at every street corner.
At last we found it appropriately enough in the
Rue du Consulat d' Angleterre. A gorgeous old
butler resembling a wolf ushered us from the blank
walled street into a beautiful square garden filled
with flowering shrubs and creepers. Not to be
outdone by the colours of the flowers, the butler
was clad in a red waistcoat, embroidered with gold,
a green cloth coat, blue baggy trousers, and a red
fez with a tassel nearly a yard long, while a con
noisseur's mouth would have watered at the sight
of his antique silver watch-chain with its ex
quisitely worked hanging blobs.
The interior of the house gave an impression

THE BOURGEOISIE WOMEN 107
of vast roominess. Wide stairs, a huge upper
landing hke a reception-room, a panelled drawing-
room large enough to lose one's self in, ornamented
by primitive frescoes on the walls above the panels.
The Enghsh consul was an old Albanian gentle
man with delightful manners. For a long time he
had been suffering from an illness which had started
from a wound in the head, received during the siege
of Scutari. After the inevitable coffee and cigar
ettes his son wandered out with us and showed
us the interesting parts of the town. Out of a big
doorway came two women in gorgeous clothes.
They had been paying a morning call, and bade
farewell to their hostess. Doubtless they were
mother and daughter.
One was faded and beautiful ; the younger was
of the plump cream and roses variety with modestly
downcast eyes. Both wore enormous white lace
Mary Queen of Scots' veils, great baggy trousers
made of stiff shiny black stuff, which was gathered
into hard gold embroidered pipes which encased the
ankles and upwards. These pipes were so stiff that
they had to walk with straight knees and feet far
apart. Their full cavaher coats were thickly covered
with many kilometres of black braid sewn on in
curly patterns, and the girl wore at least a hundred
golden coins hung in semicircles on her chest.
They left the third woman at the door and

108 SCUTARI
walked back a few steps down the road, then
turned, and laying hand on breast, bowed cere
moniously, first the mother, then the daughter,
who never lifted her eyes ; another twenty steps
and again the same performance ; still once more,
after which they slowly waddled round the corner.
Suma told us they wore the costume of the
haute bourgeoisie, and probably the girl had been
taken to see her future mother-in-law.
The next vision that met our eyes was the doctor
in his best clothes, frock-coat, white spats, gloves,
and a minute pork-pie cap perched on the top of
his spherical countenance.
" In Scutari it is necessary that I should be
en tenue," was his explanation.
Suma parted with us, promising to take us to
the bazaar the next day, and we spent the afternoon
sketching and avoiding a dumb idiot who tried
to amuse us by standing on his head in front of
whatever object we chose to sketch, and at
intervals thrust into our hands a letter which he
thought was a money producing tahsman. It said
in Enghsh, " Kick this chap if he bothers you."
There are other traces of theEnghsh soldiery here.
Little children with outstretched hands flock round,
saying in coaxing tones " Gam," or " Git away you,"
under the impression that they are saying " please."
At a street corner we saw a professional beggar,

SCUTARI BAZAAR 109
a shattered man of drooping misery, his rags
vieing with the colour of the road. Jo began to
sketch, but he promptly sat up, twirled his long
moustaches, and from a worm became a hon. One
may be a beggar in Albania, but as long as one has
moustaches one is at least a man.
The bazaar next day filled our wildest dreams.
Queerly clad peasants of all tribes came down from
the mountains bearing rugs, rubbish, white cloths,
cheese, honey, poultry, pigs, and they sat on the
ground behind their wares in the blazing heat,
while all the rest of Northern Albania came to
purchase. The httle shops set out their pottery,
silver-ware and brightly striped veils. Jo hfted
up a woman's leather belt covered with silver,
thinking how nice it would look on a modern
skirt ; but she dropped it with a crash, for the
leather was a quarter of an inch thick, and the
silver equaUy weighty.
Veiled women bargained and chaffered with the
rest, some dressed in white with black chiffon
covering their faces, and others still more bizarre,
wore flowered chiffon, one large flower perhaps
covering the area of one cheek and nose.
More fanatic in rehgion than their men, they
objected to being sketched, crouching to the ground
and covering themselves completely with draperies,
so we had to desist.

110 SCUTARI
There can be no arguments about beauty in
these lands. It goes by " volume."
Put the ladies on the scales, and in case of a
tie, measure them round the hips.
Vendors pressed gold-embroidered zouaves,
antique arms and filigree silver- ware upon us ; but
we ever looked elsewhere, and Jo suddenly pounced
on a handkerchief, or rather a conglomeration of
bits sewn together, each being a remnant of brilhant
coloured patterned stuff.
" But that has no value," said Suma, smiling.
" Never mind, I shall wear it as a hat," said Jo ;
and Suma, somewhat perplexed, lowered his
dignity and bargained for it.
We next saw a brilliantly striped rug hanging
on the wall behind an old woman, red, green,
yellow, black and white, just what we wanted.
She consented to take thirteen silver cronen for it,
but no Montenegrin paper. She explained she
was poor. She had brought up the sheep, spun
and dyed the wool, and had woven the beautiful
thing, and now she wanted silver because outside
Scutari, in which the Montenegrins forced accept
ance of their notes by corporal punishment, paper
was worth nothing. To get the silver we went into
a general store and sold a sovereign.
While we were waiting for the money-changer,
two Miridite women came in. They had short

JO AND MR. SUMA IN THE SCUTAEI BAZAAE.

A TURKISH MOTHER 111
hair dyed black, white coarse linen chemises with
large sleeves, embroidered zouaves, white skirts
with front and back aprons lavishly embroidered,
striped trousers, and stockings knitted on great
diagonal patterns.
One of them told Suma that their village was
in possession of Essad Pacha, that aU their husbands
had fled, and were still fighting in the hills.
Suma, for a joke, asked her what she thought
of Jo. Passing her eyes over Jo's uninflated frame,
she hesitated, but was urged to speak the truth.
" I think she is forty," she remarked ; and
then somehow Jo was not quite pleased.
The midday heat being overwhelming we took
a cab and drove back along two kilometres of
dusty road. A veiled woman stopped the coach
man, asking him to give her tired httle girl a hft.
Jehu refused, through awe of us ; but we insisted
on taking her, and begged the woman to come in
too. Jo held out her hands, but the woman
shrank back horrified, though obviously worn out
with the heat.
" That is a pity," laughed Suma. " I hoped
she would do it. It would have been a new
experience for me."
Jo confided to him her burning desire to enter
a harem, but as he had no Mahommedan friends
he thought the possibility remote.

112 SCUTARI
Two more bourgeois women passed. Jan
photographed them, but not before they hid their
faces with umbrellas. Even the Christian men are
intensely jealous, and their women have some
Turkish ideals. We spent the afternoon sketching
outside a barber's shop, coffee being brought to us
on a hanging tray with a httle fire on it to keep
the coffee warm. Opposite was a shop which
combined the trades of blacksmith and fishmonger.
It seemed the strangest mixture.
We dined with the Frenchman. He was a
queer fellow, seeming only interested in economies,
his digestion and his old age ; and he discussed
the possible places where an old man might hve
in comfort. Egypt, he dismissed : too hot, and an
old man does not want to travel. The Greek
islands had earthquakes. Corfu, he had heard,
was depressing; while in the Canaries there was
sometimes a wind and one might catch cold. We
suggested " heaven," and he looked hurt. He
had been in Scutari in December. He told us
that after dark it was impossible to walk down the
great main street, which divides Christian from
Turk, without carrying a hghted lantern to signal
that you were not on nefarious intent, or you might
be shot. Mr. Suma came along the next day in good time
and gave Jan a letter for the Count de Salis. We

CHRISTIAN WOMEN HIDING FROM THE PHOTOGRAPHEE.

SCUTARI  BAZAAR AND OLD VENETIAN FOETEBSS.

AT THE QUAY 113
bade him a most cordial farewell, assuring him
propheticaUy that we should revisit Scutari — little
did we dream in what circumstances, — and he said
we would then see the " Maison Pigit," a show
castle which he had, in vain, urged us to visit <
Paget was an Enghshman who seems to have spent
ten or twelve years dreaming away hfe in Scutari,
and collecting ancient weapons. With the out
break of the South African war he disappeared. He
was then heard of fighting for the Turk against the
Itahan, and later for the Turk against the Balkan
alliance. He has never returned.
With Dr. Ob we drove to the quay, on the road
passing an old woman staggering along beneath
the weight of a complete iron and brass bedstead.
As we got out of our carriage we noticed a
rabble of Turks hurrying towards us. In its midst
was a brougham with windows tight shut and
veiled, from which we guessed that some hght of
the harem was to be a fellow passenger. The
carriage halted, and whatever was within was
hustled from the farthest door and in the midst
of the dense mob of men hurried down the quay.
The side of the steamer was crowded with craft,
so we passed beneath the stern to embark on the
far side, to find that the Turkish lady and her
escort had passed beneath the bows for a similar
purpose. We caused a flutter, the beauty was

114 SCUTARI
hastily lifted on board hke a bale of goods, and we
caught a ghmpse of magnificent pink brocaded
trousers and jewelled shoes beneath her red orange
covering. Two women — one a Christian — followed,
and when she was seated, bent over her as a sort
of screen to hide even her clothes from the gaze
of the naughty infidel.
Governor Petrovitch came down to the quay to
bid us good-bye. With him came his daughter,
who was returning with us. She had nothing
interesting to say about Scutari. The Frenchman
had brought with him a cook whom he had engaged
to look after his digestion.
We found comfortable seats on a long box with
a bale as a back rest, and the governor sent two
chairs for the ladies. As we steamed away we
pondered on the problem of Scutari.
There are in all, say, 300,000 Serbs, a high esti
mate, in all Montenegro. The population of the
Sanjak and its cities, Plevhe, Ipek, Berane, and
Jakovitza, are of course largely Mussulman or
Albanian, and already the balance of people in the
httle mountain kingdom iswavering. If Montenegro
adds to herself Scutari, a town in which the Serb
population is practically " nil," the scales swing
over heavily against the ruhng classes, and either
one will see Montenegro absorb Scutari, to be in
turn absorbed by Scutari itself ; or we shall see

DISEMBARKATION OF A TURKISH BRIDE.

GOVERNOR PETROVITCH AND HIS DAUGHTER IN THEIR STATE BARGE.

THE TURKISH BRIDE 115
the crimes of Austro-Hungary repeated upon a
smaller scale, and Montenegro will be some day
condemned before a tribunal of Europe for con
tinued injustice to the people entrusted to her.
The Albanians loathe the Serb even more than
they hate the Turk, and at present, in spite of the
fact that they are on their best manners, the
Montenegrin pohce and soldiery have the appear
ance of a debt collector in the house of one who has
backed a friend's bill.
An Albanian noble said to Jan, " We are quiet
now : the Powers have no time to waste upon us,
and we are not going to revolt and let ourselves
be murdered without redress. But, if after the
war things are not righted, monsieur, there will
be a revolution every day."
We saw a pehcan, and of course some one had
to try and kill it ; but luckily the criminal was an
average shot only. The pehcan flew off flapping
its broad white wings. The Frenchman told us
that the Turkish lady round the corner is a gipsy
bride to be. A hght dawned upon us. The bed,
these boxes we were sitting upon : she was taking
her furniture with her. Jan peered round at her.
She was sitting on a low stool, and the two screens
were standing at duty. They had chosen the most
secluded spot in the boat, which was next to the
boilers. The day itself was very hot, and the

116 SCUTARI
atmosphere within the poor bride's thick coverings
must have been awful, though when nobody was
looking she was allowed to raise for a second the
many thicknesses of black chiffon which shrouded
her face, and to gasp a few chestfuUs of fresh air.
Dr. Ob suddenly produced a large sheep's head
which he dissected with medical knowledge. He
gouged out an eye which he offered to Jo ; upon
her refusing the succulent morsel he gave a sigh of
relief and wolfed it himself. One of the men on
board had a fiddle, and played us across the lake.
Some one said, " Give us the Merry Widow."
He shook his head.
" Come on," said his tempter, " there's no one
here. Give it us." At last, looking at Miss Petro
vitch and us, the musician timidly started the music,
for the " Merry Widow " is " straffed " in Monte
negro as one of the characters is a caricature of
Prince Danilo, hence everybody plays it with
gusto in private.
We came again to Plavnitza. A huge crowd of
Turks were waiting for us; one wild befezzed
ruffian had a concertina and was capering to his
own strains.
We were suddenly disturbed, the box was
wrested away, the bundles also, the bed was
carried off, also a tin dish too small for a bath,
too big for a basin, and a tin watering pot — the

DR. OB IN A FURY 117
bride's trousseau. The bride was seized by two
men, her brothers we were told, and carried up
the stairs to a waiting brougham, the trousseau
was piled upon a bullock cart, and shouting and
singing and dancing the cortege moved out of
sight. At Virbazar the steamer could not come to
the quay, so the authorities ran a five-inch
rounded tree trunk from the boat to the mud.
Many dared the perilous crossing, and one nearly
fell into the water. Dr. Ob was furious, and at
last a plank was substituted. Then we found that
the only way off the mud was by clambering
round a corner of wall on some shaky stepping stones.
Dr. Ob fumed, his httle round face grew rounder,
his moustache went up and down, he threatened
everybody with instant execution, hke the Red
Queen in " Alice." Then he found that no motor
was awaiting us. He rushed to the telephone
while we had a belated lunch. No motors ; one
was out taking the Serbian officers for a joy-ride;
Prince Peter had taken the other to Antivari.
Montenegro seemed to have no more. We soothed
ourselves with " American " grapes. This grape
tastes not unhke strawberries and cream, but not
having the same sentimental associations, does not
come off quite as well. We heard a motor coming.
Dr. Ob ran out to intercept it. It was crammed.

118 SCUTARI
Then the telephone boy brought a message that
Prince Peter's motor would not return till to
morrow. Miss Petrovitch wrung her hands.
" We cannot stay here the night," she said.
" Are the bugs awful? " we asked.
" It's not the bugs, it's those dreadful women,"
she answered. " We shall aU be murdered in
our beds."
Now the women appeared to us most inoffensive.
Dr. Ob was purple with rage. He stamped his
foot. " But I am a minister," he kept repeating
crescendo, till he shouted to the villagers, " But
I am a minister."
It is impossible to take Montenegro seriously.
Situations occur at every corner which remind one
irresistibly of " the Rose and the Ring," and we
wondered what would happen next. There were
other belated passengers who had hoped for con
veyance, and the Frenchman's carriage had not
turned up. Dr. Ob at last decided to commandeer
a cocked hat boat rowed by four women with which
to navigate the river to Rieka, and thence by
carriage to Cettinje if carriages came. It was
six p.m., we might reach Rieka by ten.
We rowed out through the half-sunken trees.
At the end of a spit of land was a man gnawing a

RIEKA RIVER 119
piece of raw beef. We shouted to him to ask
what he was doing ; and he answered that he was
curing his malaria. The two women in the bow
were very pretty, one was a mere child.
There were wisps of sunset cloud in the sky,
and soon night came quite down.
As it grew dark all sense of motion disappeared.
The boat shrugged uneasily with the movement of
the oars, the rowlocks made of loops of twisted osier
creaked, but one could not perceive that one was
going forwards. The hills lost their solidity,
becoming mere holes in the grey blue of the sky,
a bright planet made a hght smudge on the ruffled
water in which the stars could not reflect. As we
crept forwards into the river and the mountains
closed in, the water became more calm, and the
stars came out one by one beneath us, while in
the ripple of our wake the image of the planet
ran up continuously in strings of httle golden balls
hke a jugghng trick.
The Frenchman turned his head and made a
noise hke the rowlocks. "II faut chanter quand
meme," he explained, " pour encourager les autres."
Jo then started " Frere Jacques." Jan and Dr.
Ob took it up tiU the Frenchman burst in with an
entirely different time and key. Then one of the oar
girls began a queer httle melody on four notes only,
and all the four women joined, one end of the boat

120 SCUTARI
answering the other. They sang through their
noses, and high up in the falsetto. By shutting
one's eyes one could imagine a great ox waggon
drawn uphill by four bullocks and one of the wheels
ungreased. Yet it was not unpleasing, this queer
shrill, recurrent rhythm, the monotonous creak
and splash of the oars, the mystery of feehng
one's way in the blue gloom, through reed and
water-hly beds, up this cliff-bound river, and far
away the faint twitter — also recurrent and
monotonous — of some nightjar. . . .
The night grew bitterly cold on the water.
One of our passengers, a httle Russian dressmaker,
had malaria and shivered with ague. Jo gave her
her cloak. The Frenchman's cook was unsuitably
dressed, for she had on but a thin chiffon blouse.
We ourselves had summer clothes, and we were all
mightily glad to see the glare of Rieka in the sky.
Our luck be praised, there were two old carriages
with older horses, and another for the Frenchman.
We supped moderately at a restaurant kept by an
Austrian, and still shivering scrambled into the
carriages. We had no hghts, but the road was
visible by the stars.
We went up and up, up the same road down
which we had come three days before. Below one
could see strange planes of different darknesses,
but not any shape, and soon one was too aware of

CETTINJE AGAIN 121
physical discomfort to notice the night. Besides,
one had had enough of night. Miss Petrovitch told
the boy to hurry up the horses ; he beat them ; she
then rebuked him for beating them. After a while
the boy grew tired of her contradictory orders, and
lying down on the box feU fast asleep. The poor
old horses plodded along. To right and left were
immense precipices, but nobody seemed to care.
We reached Cettinje about two a.m., found the
hotel open, and a room ready for us, and in spite of
our frozen hmbs were soon asleep.

PZrO

Ni )
£

•E

CHAPTER X
THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
We went next day to see the doctor, who was late,
so we stroUed out to the market. They were selhng
grapes and figs, fresh walnuts, and lots of httle
dried fish, strung on to rings of willow, from the
lake of Scutari. The scene, with the men in their
costumes of red and blue, the women all respectably
dressed in long embroidered coats of pale blue or
white, and the village idiot, a man prancing about
dressed in nothing but a woman's overaU, was very
gay. We caught the doctor later. He was talking
with a Mrs. G  , an Enghshwoman, from the
hospital at Podgoritza : she was trying to hustle
him as one hustles the butcher who has belated the
meat. The doctor had let up his efforts since his
orgy of respectabihty in Scutari, and his beard and
whiskers were enjoying a half -inch hohday from
the razor. With him was a Slav-Hungarian, who
recommended us to go home by Gussigne, Plav and
Ipek, the best scenery in all Montenegro he said ;
he himself had just returned from Scutari, whence
122

THE BENZINE 123
he" had advanced with a Montenegrin army halfway
across Albania. At each village the natives had
fled, burying their corn and driving off their cattle,
leaving the viUages deserted, and the army, starv
ing, had at last been forced to retire. Dr. Ob
promised us a motor by four, but added that they
had no oil and very httle benzine. Then growing
more confidential, he took us by the buttonholes
and asked us to use our best influence with the
Count de Sahs, and request him to tell the Admiralty
to aUow petrol to be brought up from Salonika,
where the British had laid an embargo upon it.
He promised pathetically that all the petrol would
be brought up overland.
Intensely amused by the doctor's idea of our
importance, we solemnly dehvered his message to
the Count.
We went to the Serbian Minister, a charming
man with a freebooter's face, for our passports,
and then back to Dr. Ob. The motor was going
off at 6.30 he said. We cheered internally, for we
were getting tired of Cettinje, which reminded us
of a watchmaker's wife with her best silk dress on.
On our way downstairs we called in to thank the
Minister of War for our jolly trip ; and he wished us
" Bon voyage."
We got en route almost up to time, with us was
Mrs. G  , who was also going back as far as

124 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
Podgoritza. She was storekeeper and accountant
for the Wounded Alhes, and ever had a hard and
troublesome task between what she needed and
what she could get from the Sanitary Department.
She took the front seat with Jo, and inside Jan
found a French sailor of the wireless telegraphy, who
had had typhoid fever, but was now going back
to work. As we rattled down the curves and along
the edge of the darkening chasms of the mountain
side, he summed up with the brevity of a " rapin."
" Dans la journee ici, vous savez, il y'a de quoi
faire des cliches."
We stopped at Rieka for water, and then on
once more. In the glare of our headlights, little
clumps of soldiers, with donkeys loaded with the
new uniforms, loomed suddenly out of the dark
ness. Once a donkey took fright and bolted back,
and the soldier in charge yelled and pointed his
rifle at us. If we had moved he would have shot
without compunction. Later the men had bivou
acked, and all along the rest of the road we passed
httle fires of fresh brushwood, the sparks pouring
up hke fountains into the night, round which the
soldiers and drivers were sitting and singing their
weird songs.
At Podgoritza we found Dr. Lihas Hamilton at
supper with her staff. She has had rather a hard
time. The hospital was intended for Ipek, but

POD 125
for some reason, although there were wounded
in the town, the Montenegrins decided to move
it to Podgoritza, where there were none. After a
difficult journey across the mountains they settled
down, but could never get sufficient transport from
the Government to bring their stores over, except
in small quantities. They started to work, but
as there were few soldiers to treat, Dr. Lihas, being
a lady, interested herself in the Turkish female
population, a thing which the Montenegrins thought
a criminal waste of time, and tried to stop.
We got a bedroom in the hotel, and tired out,
tried to sleep ; but the occupants of the cafe- began
a set of howhng songs, very unmusical, and kept
us awake till past twelve. We have never heard
this kind of singing anywhere else.
Next day we crossed the river and explored the
quaint and beautiful streets of the Turkish quarter.
The people are equally offensive on both sides of the
town ; however, Podgoritza seems to be the White-
chapel of Montenegro — and we finally had to take
refuge in the sheds of the French wireless telegraphy.
The commandant at the motor depot again treated
us rudely, but the Prefect was nice, this time. He
promised us a carriage on the morrow if no motor
were forthcoming.
After supper the people began the awful howhng
songs ; also there was a wild orchestra which had

126 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTEINUliKU
one clarinet for melody and about ten deep bass
trumpets for accompaniment.
Next morning no carriage came, so off to the
Prefect. He promised one " odmah," which being
translated is " at once," but means really within
" eight or nine hours." We waited. Nine a.m.
passed. Ten a.m. went by. A small boy sneaked
up and tried to sell some contraband tobacco ; but
Jan had just bought " State." An angry Turkish
gentleman came and said that his horses had been
requisitioned to take us to Andrievitza, and that
we weren't going to get them tiU one o'clock,
because he was using them. We returned to the
Prefect, not to complain — oh no — but to ask him
to telegraph to Andrievitza that we were coming.
He was naturally surprised to see us again, and
explanations followed. A very humbled and much
better tempered Turk came to the cafe to say that
the horses would be with us " odmah."
A drizzle had been falhng all the morning ; at
last the carriage came. Our driver was a wretched
half-starved, high-cheeked Moslem in rags, whose
trousers were only made draught proof by his
sitting on the holes. He tried to squeeze another
passenger upon us ; but we were wiser, and were
just not able to understand what he was saying.
Our Turk's method of driving was to tie the reins
to the carriage rail, flourishing a whip and shouting

A HALT 127
with vigour ; every ten minutes he glanced uneasily
backwards to see that nothing had broken loose or
come away.
The valley we entered had been very deep, but
at some period had been hah filled by a deposit of
sand and pebble which had hardened into a crumb
ling rock. We were driving over the gravelly
sheU, above our head rose walls of Umestone, and
deep below was the river which had eaten the
softer agglomerate into a hundred fantastic
caverns. AU along the road we passed groups
of tramping volunteers fresh from America with
store clothes and suitcases ; the sensible were
also festooned with boots. It was pretty cold
sitting in the carriage, and it grew colder as we
mounted. At last we halted to rest the horses at a cafe.
The influence of " Pod " was heavy still. A group
of grumpy people were sitting around a fire buUt
in the middle of the floor ; they did not greet us — ¦
which is unusual in Montenegro — but continued the
favourite Serb recreation of spitting. In the centre
of them was an old man on a chair, also expectorat
ing, and by his side one older and scraggier, his
waistcoat covered with snuff and medals, palpitated
in a state of senile decay, holding in a withered hand
a palmfull of snuff which he had forgotten to inhale.
There were a lot of women saying nothing and

128 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
spitting. A sour, hard-faced woman admitted that
there was coffee.
Jo, trying to cheer things up a bit, said brightly-—
" Is it far to Andrievitza ? "
A woman mumbled, " Far, bogami."
Jo again : " It is cold on the road."
A long silence, broken with the sound of spitting,
followed. At last a woman in the darkest corner
murmured —
" Cold, bogami."
It was hke the opening of a Maeterhnckian play,
but we gave it up, sipped our coffee, and when we
had finished, fled outside into the cold which, after
all, was warmer than these people's welcome.
Outside we met a young man who spoke German,
and as he wanted to show off, he stopped to con
verse. We were joined by an older man who
claimed to be his father. The father was really
a jolly old boy. He said his son was a puny
weakhng, but as for himself he never had had a
doctor in his hfe. So Jan tried his mettle with a
cigar. An officer, a filthy old peasant in the remains
of a battered uniform, joined the group, but he was
not charming ; however, Jan offered him a cigarette.
The old yokel rushed on his fate. He said —
" Cigarettes are all very well ; but I would
rather have one of those you gave to the other
fellow."

LIEVA RIEKA 129
The road wound on and up in the usual way,
rain came down at intervals, and it grew colder and
colder. At last we extracted all our spare clothes
from the knapsack and put them on. We reached
the top of the pass and began to rattle down the
descent on the further side, and wre kept our spirits
up, in the growing gloom, by singing choruses :
" The old Swanee river " and " Uncle Ned."
We pulled up at dusk at a dismal hovel, on
piles, with rickety wooden stairs leading to a dimly
hghted balcony over which fell deep wooden eaves.
" Is this Jabooka ? " we asked, for we had been
told to ahght at Jabooka.
" No," said the driver ; "we cannot reach
Jabooka to-night. But here are fine beds, fine,
fine, fine ! "
We chmbed in. The rooms were whitewashed
and looked all right, but there was a funny smell.
We shall know what it means a second time. There
was a crowd of American Montenegrin volunteers
in the kitchen. One gay f eUow was in a bright green
dressing-gown hke overcoat : he said that his wife
— a hard-featured woman who looked as if nobody
loved her — had brought his saddle horse. We got
some hard-boiled eggs and maize bread. Maize
bread is always a httle gritty, for it has in its sub
stance no binding material, but when it is well
cooked and has plenty of crust is quite eatable.

130 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
French cooking is far away, however, and the bread
is usually a sort of soggy, half-baked flabby paste,
most unpalatable and most indigestible. Here was
the worst bread we yet had found.
They took us down a dark passage, in which
huge lumps of raw meat hanging from the walls
struck one's hand with a chill, flabby caress as one
passed. In our room, four benches were arranged
into a pair of widish couches ; mattresses were given
us and coarse hand-woven rugs. We were then
left. But we could not sleep; somehow hee were
in one's mind, and at last Jan awoke and ht the tiny
oil lamp. He immediately slew a bug; then another ;
then a whopper ; then one escaped ; then Jo got
one. In desperation we got up, smeared ourselves
with paraffin, and lay down again in a dismal
distressed doze till morning.
Our driver was a dilatory dog : we had said that
we would leave at five a.m., and at six he was
washing his teeth in the httle stream which acted
as the village sewer. As we were waiting our
green-coated friend got away on his saddle horse,
with his wife walking at its tail; the other
Americans chmbed into a great three-horse waggon,
dragged their suit-cases after them, and off they
went. We left nearer seven than six. The air
was chilly, and though there were bits of blue in
the sky, the hills were floating in mist, and there

JABOOKA 131
was a sharp shower. There were more groups of
Americans trudging along, and also a fair number of
peasants, the women, as usual, dignified and beauti
ful. Very hungry we at last came to Jabooka.
A joUy woman — we were getting away from
" Pod " — welcomed us and dragged us into the
kitchen. She asked Jo many questions, one being,
' What relation is he to you, that man with whom
you travel ? " The fire on the floor was nearly
out, but she rained sticks on to it, blew up the great
central log, which is the backbone, into a blaze,
and soon the smoke was pouring into our eyes and
filtering up amongst the hams in the roof. We
were drinking a splendid cafe au lait when an old
woman peered in at the door.
' Very beautiful Jabooka," she said.
We agreed heartily.
" Not dear either," she said.
We expressed surprise.
' You can buy cheap," she went on.
We regretted that we did not wish to.
" But you must eat to live," she protested.
We intimated that this was of the nature of a
truism, but failed to see the connection.
" But look at them," she expostulated, holding
out a large basket of apples; and we suddenly
remembered that " Jabooka " means also apples,
and realized that she was not a land agent.

132 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
Then on once more. In the deep valleys were
large modern sawmills, but the houses were ever
poor, and the windows grew smaUer and smaUer
and were without glass. At the junction of the
Kolashin road, from the north, we picked up a
jolly Montenegrin with a big dog. He was a
driver by profession, and he hurried our lethargic
progress a httle. Then the front spring broke.
It was mended with wire and a piece of tree ;
when we started again the reins snapped.
We halted once more at a cafe filled with
Americans ; some had only left their native land
six months agone, yet to the peasant they were all
" Americans." Some of them seemed very dis
satisfied with the reception which they had received,
and we don't wonder. " In Ipek I coulden get
my room," said one, " tho' I 'ad wired for 't,
'cause one o' them 'airy popes [Greek priests] 'ad
come wid 'is fambly. I 'ad to sleep hke a 'og,
you fellers, jess hke a 'og." We had been under
the impression that burning patriotism had called
all these men back to their country, but one sturdy
fellow disabused us.
" No, you fellers," he said, " there weren't no
work for us in 'Murrica. Mos' o' the places 'ad
closed down ter a shift or two at the mos' per wik.
And fer fellers wats used to livin' purty well there
weren't enough ter pay board alone. We gotter

DOWN TO ANDRIEVITZA 133
come or we'd a starved." Of course this was not
true of many.
On again, rain and sun alternating, but stiU
we were cold, feet especially.
These mountains, these continual groups of
slouching, slouch-hatted " Americans," these httle
weathered log cabins, falhng streams, and pine
trees reminded one of some tale of Bret Harte,
and one found one's self expecting the sudden
appearance of Broncho Billy or Jack Hamlin
mounted upon a fiery mustang. But we cleared
the top of the pass without meeting either, and
started on our last long downhill to Andrievitza.
Cheered by the rapidity of our motion the two
ruffians on the box started a howhng Podgoritzian
kind of melody, exceedingly discordant. The
driver, careless that one of our springs was but
wired tree, and that wheels in Montenegro are
easily decomposed, flogged his horses unmerci-
fuUy, rattling along the extreme edge of one
hundred foot precipices. We stopped at a cafe
for the driver to get coffee ; rattled on again,
stopped to inquire the price of hay ; more rattle ;
stopped for the driver to say, " How de doo "
to a pal ; more rattle ; stopped to ask a man
if his dog has had puppies yet. . . . But we
protested. Andrievitza was the prettiest village we had yet

134 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
seen in Montenegro, and was full of more " Ameri
cans." In the street a small boy urged us to go to
" Radoikovitches," but we went to the hotel.
The hotel was full, because a Pasha from Scutari
had arrived with his three wives, and all their
families. So we permitted the httle yellow-haired
urchin to lead us to " Radoikovitches." A woman
received us, without gusto, till she learned that
Jo was Jan's wife, when she cheered up. A charming
old officer stood rakia all round in our honour. The
mayor came in to greet us, and we felt that at
last Pod had been pushed behind for ever.
The mayor was a pleasant fellow, speaking
French, and he confided in us that he was suffering
from a " maladie d'estomac." When we thought
we had sympathized enough, we asked him how
far it was, and could we have horses to go to Petch.
He answered that it was two days, or rather one and
a half, and that the horses would await us at twelve
on the following day. We went to bed early to
make up for last night, but Jan, having felt rather
tickly all day, hunted the corners of his shirt and
found — dare we mention it — a louse, souvenir de
Lieva Ri^ka.
As we were breakfasting next day our driver,
who had been most unpleasant the whole time,
sidled up and asked Jan to sign a paper. While
Jan was doing so the driver burst into a voUey of

A HAREM EN VOYAGE 135
explanations. We thought that he was asking
for a tip, but made out that he had lost (or gambled)
the ten kronen which his employer had given to
him for expenses. We had intended to give him
no tip, for on the yesterday he had refused to carry
our bags, but this made us waver. We asked
Mr. Rad, etc., what we should do.
" Sign his paper," he answered gruffly, " and
kick him out ; he's only a dirty Turk anyhow."
The mayor sent our horses round early ; but we
stuck to our decision to start in the afternoon, and
ordered lunch at twelve. There was a huge crowd
gathered in front of the inn, and we saw that the
Pasha and his harem were off. One wife wore a
blue furnituTe cover over her, one a green, and one
a brown, so that he might know them apart from
the outside, for they all had heavy black veils
before their faces. The Pasha himself seemed
rather a decent fellow, and had much of the air of
a curate conducting a school feast. Four children
were thrust into two baskets which were slung on
each side of one small horse, and various furniture,
including a small bath (or large basin), was strapped
on to others, and the Pasha followed by his wives
set off walking, the Pasha occasionally throwing a
graceful remark behind him.
The mayor lunched with us, and for a man who
has, as he says, ansemia of the stomach, chronic

136 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
dysentery, and inflammation of the intestines, he
ate most freely, and if such is his daily habit, he
deserved all he had got.
Our guide was the most picturesque we have
yet had. He was an Albanian with a shaven poll
save for a tuft by which the angels will one day
hft him to heaven, small white cap hke a saucer,
over which was wound a twisted dirty white scarf,
short white coat heavily embroidered with black
braid, tight trousers, also heavily embroidered, but
the waistband only pulled up to where the buttock
begins to shde away — we wondered continuously
why they never fell off — and the long space between
coat and trousers filled with tightly wound red
and orange belt. He called himself Ramases, or
some such name. Our saddles were pretty good,
the stirrups hke shovels, the horses the best (barring
at the Front) we had had since Prepolji.
We rode over a creaky bridge, Jan's horse
refusing, so he went through the river, and out into
the new road which is being made to Ipek. Men
and women, almost all in Albanian costumes, were
scraping, digging, drilhng and blasting; some of
the women wore a costume we had not yet seen,
very short cotton skirt above the knees, and long,
embroidered leggings. We passed this high-road
" in posse " and, the httle horses stepping along,
presently caught up a trail of donkeys, the

VELIKA 137
proprietor of which, a friend of Ramases, had a
face hke a post-impressionist sculpture.
We passed the donkeys and came to the usual
sort of cafe, rough log hut, fire on floor — but one
of the women therein gave Jo her only apple —
decidedly we were away from Pod.
On again along river valleys. Jan's saddle
had a knob in the seat that began to insinuate.
On every hill were cut maize patches, the
red stubble in the sunset looking hke fields of
blood. In the dusk we came to Vehka, a wooden
witchhke viUage, where we were to stay the night,
and where, as we had expected, the Pasha, ten
minutes ahead of us, had commandeered all the
accommodation. The captain, however, was very
good, and gave us a pohceman to find lodgings for
us. By this time it was dark. He led us into a
pitch black lane where the mud came over our
boots, then we clambered up a loose earth chff and
stood looking into a room whose only hght was
from a smaU fire, as usual on the floor. Over the
fire was a large pot, and a meagre-faced woman was
stirring the brew. Behind her a small baby in a
red and white striped blanket was pushed up to
its armpits through a hole on four legs, where it
hung. In a dark corner a smaU boy was worrying
a black cat.

138 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
" Can you give these Enghsh a bed ? " demanded
the pohceman.
The woman shook her head sadly. " Mozhe,"
she said, which means " It is possible."
After supper, Bovril and cheese omelette, we
went out to seek the cafe. We trudged back
through the mud and stumbled into a house full
of lattice work, hke a Chinese store. Startled we
tried another. This time we came into a stable,
but there was a ladder leading upwards, and at the
top a hghted room, so we decided to explore.
We chmbed up and came into a large loft in which
six long legged, heavily bearded Albanians were
squatting about a fire; a gipsy woman with wild
tousled hair and hanging breasts was in the corner
of the hearth, and was telhng some long mono
tonous tale. An Albanian, who spoke Serb, told
us to come in and have coffee. It was like the
illustration of some tale from the Arabian Nights.
After a while we chmbed out again into the night,
and went home. Ramases hung about shyly, and
the woman explained that he had nowhere to
sleep ; so we arranged that she should house him
also. Even as we poked our noses out of the door
there was a promise of a fine day. Below us we could
see the Pasha up and superintending the packing
of his family and furniture. We celebrated by

THE TRAIL 139
opening our last tin of jam, which we had carried
carefuUy aU the way, waiting for an occasion.
We left the remains of the jam for the small family,
and as we were mounting we saw their faces
smeared and streaked with "First Quahty Damson."
We started the climb almost at once. The early
morning smoke filtering through the slats made
an outer cone, of faint blue, above the black roof of
every hut and cottage ; here and there were traces
of roadmaking, groups of Albanian workmen on
stretches of levelled earth which our trail crossed
at irregular intervals. Presently we entered the
clouds, and were wrapped about with a thin mist
faintly smelhng of smoke. After a while we
chmbed above them, and looking down could see
the clouds motthng all the landscape, and through
holes httle patches of sunht field or wood peering
through hke the eyes of a Turkish woman through
her yashmak.
Our horses panted and sweated up the long
and arduous slope for two mortal hours, up and
ever up ; but all things come to an end, and at last
we reached the top. We sat down to rest our
weary animals and, lo ! by us passed long strings of
mules and ponies bearing the very benzine about
which so much fuss had been made in Cettinje.
Alas for our reputations as miracle workers ! Had
this blessed stuff only come a week later we should

140 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
even have passed in Montenegro as first cousins
of the king at least ; but this was a httle too prompt.
There was landscape enough here for any
budding Turners, but we two had stiU eight hours
to go and not money enough to loiter. On the
higher peaks of the mountains there was already
a fresh powdering of snow ; in the vaUeys the
clouds had almost cleared away, leaving a thin
film of moisture which made shadows of pure
ultramarine beneath the trees. Your modern com
mercial grinder cannot seU you this colour, it
needs some of that pure jewel powder which old
Swan kept in a bottle for use on his masterpiece, but
found never a subject noble enough. Some of
that stuff prepared from the receipt of old Cennino
Cennini which ends " this is a work, fine and
dehcate, suitable for the hands of young maidens,
but beware of old women." Pure Lapis Lazuh.
But it became difficult even for us to admire
landscape, for breakfast had disappeared within
us, and lunch seemed far away, so once more
recourse to the " compressed luncheon." There
are three stages in the taste of the " Tabloid."
Stage one, when it smacks of glue ; stage two, when
it has a flavour of inferior beef tea, say 11.30 a.m. ;
stage three, when it resembles nothing but the
gravy of the most delicious beef steak. That is
about 2.30, and your lunch some hours in retard.

ALBANIAN CAFES 141
We had reached stage three, and even Jo succumbed
to the charms of the " Tab."
Famished we came to a cafe.
" Eggs ? " we gasped to the host.
f Nema " (haven't got any), he rephed.
" Milk ? "
" Nema."
" Cheese ? " crescendo.
" Nema."
" Bread ? " fortissimo.
" Nema."
Despairing we swallowed three more luncheon
tablets each and whined for tea. Ramases, who
seemed to get along on tea alone, promised us a
weU-stocked cafe in an hour and a half.
The second cafe was purely Albanian. We
chmbed up some rickety stairs into a room which
had — strange to relate — a fireplace. About the
room was a sleeping dais where three or four black
and white ruffians were couched. There was a
httle window with a deep seat into which we
squeezed and loudly demanded eggs, bread and
cheese. An old woman all rags and tatters came
in and squeezed up alongside, where she crouched,
spinning a long wool thread and staring up into
Jo's face. Several cats were lounging about the
room, but one came close and began to squirm as
though she were " setting " a mouse. Suddenly

142 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO
she pounced, seized the old woman's food bag from
her feet, swept it on to the floor, and disappeared
with it beneath the dais, where all the rest of the
cats followed. The old woman, who had been
plying distaff and spindle the while, let out a yell
of fury and haU disappeared beneath the platform.
We all roared with laughter, while beneath us the
cats spat and the old woman cursed, beating about
with the handle of her distaff till she had rescued
her dinner. She backed out with the bag, sat
down again and started spinning once more as
though nothing had happened.
Beyond this cafe the track became very stony
and rough. We passed a typical couple. The
man was carrying a hght bag fuU of bottles, while
the women had on her back a huge wooden chest,
in which things rattled and bumped as she stumped
along. Jo looked at her with pity. " That's heavy,"
she said.
The woman stared stupidly and answered
nothing ; but the man smiled and said —
" Yes, heavy. Bogami."
We passed more caravans of that all too soon
benzine. Chffs began to tower up on every side,
and precipices to fall away beneath our feet to a
greenish roaring torrent; great springs spouted
from the rocks and dashed down upon the stones

THE CANYON 143
below in shredded foam : one was pink in colour.
Here once a general and his lady were riding, and the
lady's horse shpped. The general grasped her
but lost his own balance, and both fell into the river
and were killed. The track wound up and down,
often very shppery underfoot, and the horses, shod
with the usual flat plates of iron, were shthering and
shding on the edge of the precipices. At last we
got off and walked. It was an immense rehef :
our saddles were intensely hard, stirrups unequal
lengths, and with knots which rubbed unmercifully
on the shins. We passed a man who was evidently
an Enghshman, and he stared at us as we passed,
but neither stopped. The gorge grew deeper, the
stream more rapid. The chffs towered higher,
black and grey in huge perpendicular stripes. We
heard sounds of thunder or of blasting which
reverberated in the canyon ; it was oppressive and
gloomy, and one shuddered to think what it would
be hke if an earthquake occurred. The chffs
ceased abruptly in a huge grass slope on which
crowds of people were working on the new road ;
we crossed the river over a wooden bridge.
We came down into Ipek suddenly, past the
old orange towered monastery, which hes, its outer
walls haU buried, keeping the landshdes at bay.
Ramases, who had suddenly put on another air,
flung his leg over the saddle — he had previously

144 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENJStfrtu
been sitting sideways — and twisted his moustache
skywards. Jo wished to canter on, but he sternly
forbade her, flipping her horse on the nose and
driving it back when she tried to pass ; for it would
have damned his manly dignity for ever had a
woman preceded him.
Our first view of Ipek was of a forest of minarets
shooting up from the orchards, not a house was to
be seen. Ramases tried to make us lodge in a
vague looking building. We asked him if that were
the best hotel. He answered nonchalantly, " Nes-
nam " (don't know) ; so we hunted for ourselves,
discovering in the main square a blue house labeUed
" Hotel Skodar " in large letters.

CHAPTER XI
IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
We entered the courtyard of the inn. Tiny as it
was all Ipek seemed to be plucking poultry in it.
An urbane old woman came forward, evidently the
owner. She had short arms, and her hair grey at
the roots was stained with henna, which matched her
eyes. A dog fancier once told us never to buy a
dog with light-coloured eyes if we wanted a trustful
loving nature, so we wondered if it apphed to
humans. She showed us a tiny dungeon-hke room entirely
fiUed up by two beds. We were not impressed;
but she assured us that we should have a large
beautiful room the next day for the same price.
So we engaged it and strolled out into the
evening. Buffaloes were sitting in couples round the big
square. They chewed the cud with an air of
incomparable wisdom so remote from the look of
reproachful misery that is generally worn by an ox.
Goats came in from the hills with their hair chpped
145 L

146 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
in layers, which gave them the appearance of ladies
in five-decker skirts ; and children were playing a
queer game. They jumped loosely round in circles
with bent knees, making a whooping-cough noise
followed by a splutter. We saw it often afterwards,
and decided that it must be the equivalent to our
" Ring o' Roses."
Work was over for the day, the sun set behind
the hills which ringed us round, and we went to
kill time in a cafe.
While we were exchanging coffees with an
" American," who was showing us the exceUences
of his wooden leg which he had made himself, a
breathless man ran in.
He had been searching the town for us. The
governor had ordered him to put us up, as his had
the notoriety of being a clean house. Having
taken a room already with the amiable old lady
we feared to disappoint her, so we decided not to
move. The man piteously hoped that we were not
offended ; and we explained at length.
When we reached the hotel again our old hostess
bustled up, more sugary than ever.
" We have just thought of a httle rearrange
ment," she said.
" How so ? "
" Well, do you understand, the inn is very
full to-night, so we thought it best that you should

MARKO PETROVITCH 147
both take the one bed and I and my daughter will
take the other."
" Oh," said we, " in that case we had better
move altogether, we have anoth  "
" Indeed, no no," said the old lady, horrified.
" Stay, stay. There sit down. It is good, keep
your beds." She patted us and left us.
We had an uninspired dinner. Greasy soup,
tough boiled meat which had produced the soup,
minced boiled meat in pepper pods, and two pears
which turned out to be bad. The company,
composed of officers and nondescripts, pleased us
no better than the dinner, so we decided to eat
elsewhere on the morrow.
The governor's secretary came in to arrange
for an interview with his chief — yet another
Petrovitch and brother to the governor of Scutari.
By this time we had each imbibed a dozen Turkish
coffees during the day, but we slept for all that
from nine until nine in the morning.
Marko Petrovitch, whom we saw early, was the
best and last Petrovitch we met in Montenegro.
Like all the Petrovitches he wore national costume.
He was handsome, shy, and kindly, said we must
go to Dechani the most famous of Balkan monas
teries, and promised us a cart for the journey.
After leaving the governor we plunged into
melodrama.

148 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
Hearing a noise we discovered crowds of weeping
women and children round the steps of a shop. A
young man in French fireman's uniform seemed to
be very active, and an old trousered woman
passively rolled down the steps after receiving a
box on the ears.
We thought it was a pohceman arresting an
elderly thief; but Jo, seeing blood on the lady's
face, told him he was a " bad man." He lurched,
staring at her stupidly. His companions, more
firemen, came forward grinning sheepishly, and we
recommended them to lead him away out of mis
chief. But the next minute a balloon-trousered
child rushed up to us and tugged at Jan's coat.
" Quick, the devil man is doing more bad things."
We ran down the road beyond the viUage and saw
him in the distance dancing on an old Turk's bare
feet with hobnailed boots, alternating this amuse
ment with cuffs on the face. We sprinted along,
and seeing a convenient httle river wriggling along
by the roadside, Jan caught him by the neck and
the seat of his trousers, swung him round, and
pitched him in. The man sat for a moment,
bewildered, in the water, and then chmbed out
uttering dreadful oaths ; but as he came up Jan
knocked him into the water again.
Men in firemen's uniforms appeared from all
sides, shouting —

HOTEL EUROPE 149
' What are you doing ? You mustn't. Who
are you ? "
' We know the governor," said Jo. The men
were making gestures of deference when the repro
bate rushed from the river, aiming a whirhng blow
at Jan which missed.
The men hurled themselves on him, but he
grabbed Jan's coat to which he clung, howhng in
unexpected Enghsh —
" Shake 'ands wi' y' ennemi." Suddenly
everybody spoke Enghsh, and we wondered into
what sort of a fairy tale had we fallen.
It was lunch time so we did not stay for ex
planations, but hurried back to the town with the
weeping old Turk, gave him our small change,
which seemed to cure the pains in his feet, and
hunted for the other hotel.
It was tucked away in a romantic back street.
The bar room was tiny, but it was very pleasant
to sit round httle tables under shady trees in the
courtyard. " What have you for lunch ? " we asked a solid-
looking waiter boy.
"Nema Ruchak, bogami." We have no lunch.
We looked at all the other people absorbing meat
and soup.
" Give us what you have."
" We have nothing, bogami,"

150 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
" Have you soup \ "
" Yes, bogami."
" And cheese ? "
" Ima, ima, bogami."
" That will do for us."
He thereupon brought macaroni soup, boiled
meat, roast meat, fried potatoes, cheese, grapes,
and coffee.
We never found out why in Montenegro they
should make it a point of honour to say they have
nothing. It resembles the Chinese habit of aUuding
to a " loathsome " wife and a " disgusting "
daughter. After lunch we visited our own hotel and found
mine hostess waiting for us with her short arms
akimbo. She wanted the "beautiful large bedroom"
to which we had moved in the morning, finding it
the same size as the one below, but rather fighter.
Its former occupant had arrived, and we were to
go back to the dungeon.
" That is not good," said Jo, and we flatly
refused to go downstairs.
" If we leave this room we go altogether."
She again patted us and begged us to consider
the matter closed. We could stick to the room.
Certainly that dog fancier was right.
There was a very old monastery which we had
passed as we rode into Ipek.

IPEK MONASTERY 151
Although we are more interested in the people
of the present than in ruins of the past, these old
Serbian monuments leave so strange a memory of
a civilization suddenly cut off at its zenith that they
have an emotional appeal far apart from that of
archaeology. These httle oases of culture pre
served amongst a wilderness of Turk tempt the
traveller with a romance which is now vanishing
from Roman and Greek ruins.
The Ipek monastery is a beautiful old place
with the walls haU buried on one side. The old
church, orange outside, is very dark within, but
contains many beautiful paintings. Surely here is
the home of Post Impressionism and of Futurism.
The decorations of the bases of the pillars are quite
futuristic even orpeistic.
The pictures are Byzantine. But the Turks
have picked out the eyes, as they always do.
One enormous painting of a head which fiUed a
semicircle over a door is particularly fine. Most
halos are round, but the painter had deemed the
ears and beard worthy of extra bulges in this saint's
halo, which added to the decorative effect.
Beautiful apple trees were dotted about the big
garden through which the wriggly river ran. Ducks,
geese and turkeys wandered around, so fat that they
were indifferent to the meal that was being served
out to them. A boy woke up the mother of a

152 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
family of young turkeys and pushed her towards
the dinner with his foot. She hurried there in
voluntarily and sat down for a nap with her back
to the plate, the picture of outraged dignity.
We got into conversation with a priest, who
insisted we should call upon the archbishop. The
Metropohtan was a cheery soul, wearing a Monte
negrin pork-pie hat very much on one side, and black
riding breeches which showed as his long robes
fluttered during his many gesticulations.
While with him we lost the impression that we
were hving in the unreal times of the Rose and the
Ring. He was intensely civilized, spoke French
excellently, and had many a good story of his life
in Constantinople and other places. For the
Enghsh he had great affection. The last English
man in Ipek, a king's messenger, had flown to the
monastery to escape from the Hotel Europe and
its bugs. The next morning he would not get up.
The archbishop went to his room to remonstrate.
" No, no," said he ; "I spent two nights under a
ceiling which rained bugs upon me, and I know a
good bed when I've got it."
Coffee and cigarettes came in, of the best, and
the rakia was a thing apart from the acrid stuff we
were accustomed to.
He admitted its superiority. The plums came
from his own estate, and were distiUed by the monks.

NIKOLA PAVLOVITCH 153
The great difficulty was to prevent him from giving
us too much.
We talked of the war, and he related many
atrocities, winding up with " Of course, England
must win ; but what wiU become of us in the mean
while ? "
That evening we had a visitor. A very large
Montenegrin in French fireman's uniform knocked
at the door. He said his name was Nikola
Pavlovitch. He had been sent by the governor to
apologise for the " trouble " Jan had had that
morning with the drunken soldier.
" 'E in jail now, 'e verry sorry and say if you
forgive 'im, mister, 'e never touch rakia, never no
more. 'E good chap reely. Got too much rakia
this mornin'. 'E think about Turks an' get kinder
mad some'ow. 'E don't know what 'e done ; first
thing 'e knows 'e finds 'imself in river."
Nikola Pavlovitch was, though not an officer,
the commandant of a contingent of miners from
America. The governor had told him also to offer
himself as cicerone for the morrow, the cart having
been ordered for our trip to Dechani.
We didn't hke cicerones and demurred.
" I kin talk for you," he said. But we owned
to speaking Serb.
" I know all de country, kin tell you things :
bin 'ere twenty years ago."

154 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
We saw he wanted to come, and noticed that
he had a very hkable face, strong features, straight
kindly eyes. We reahzed that he would be a very
pleasant companion and arranged to meet at the
stable the next day.
And so, at last, we drove in one of the queer
little Serb carts we had avoided so anxiously. A
few planks nailed together and bound around with
an insecure rail, four wheels shpped on to the axles
with no pins to hold them, a Turkish driver
danghng his legs — such was our chariot. Some hay
was produced to improvise a seat ; we bought some
apples on tick, as the vendor said he had no change
for our one shilling note, and off we drove.
Nikola Pavlovitch started yarning almost at
once, and we never had a dull moment. He was
a comitaj once, in the old days when Turkey owned
Macedonia and the Sanjak. He said that nearly
all comitaj were men of education and inteUigence.
When Turkish rule became oppressive, when too
many Christian girls were stolen and vanished
for ever into harems, the comitaj appeared, farms
were raided, minute but fierce battles were fought ;
but in spite of this continual supervision, occa
sional and mysterious murders were needed to
keep down the excesses of the Turk.
Pavlovitch waved a hand towards the suUen
mountains of Albania, which were on our right.

ALBANIA 155
" Dose Swabs don' tink o' nuttin' but kilhn'.
Jess ornary slaughter, Mister Jim. Now dat Jako-
vitza [a town to the south] dat don't mean nuttin
but 'blood ' in their talk, 'lots o' blood' dat's what it
means. Sure. Dese peoples don' respect nuttin
but kilhn' ; an' when you've done in 'bout fifty
other fellers you'r reckoned a almighty tough. If
you wanted to voyage dere, fr instance, you'd 'ave
ter get a promise o' peace, a ' Besa ' they calls it,
from one of dese tough feUers, and he makes 'imself
responsible to end any feller wat disturbs you ; 'e
can post a babby along o' you and so long as the
kiddie's wid yer nobody'U touch you. Dats so,
Mister Jim, you bleeve me. But all de same,
dey've fixed it up so's dis killing business ain't
perhte wen deres women about, so every feUer
taks 'is wife along 'o 'im so's not to be ended
right away."
Every house by the roadside was a fortress,
loopholes only in the ground floor, windows peering
from beneath the eaves and turrets with gunslits
at the second story ; here and there were old
Turkish blockhouses, sohd and square, showing
how the conquerors had feared the conquered.
" One o' dese tough feUers 'e kill more'n
hundred fellers. Great chief 'e is. Wen 'e was
sixteen 'is fader get condemned ter prison way in
Mitrovitza. Dis young tough 'e walk inter court

156 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
nex' day, in 'e kill de judge and two of de officers
and 'scape inter de mountains."
Nick himself when he was a comitaj had twice
been caught by the Turks. Once he was shot in
thirteen places at once, but was found by some
Christian women and eventually recovered ; the
second time the Turks beat him almost to death
with fencing staves, and though they thought him
dying put him on an ox cart and sent him to the
interior of Turkey.
"I was ravin' mad dat journey," he said. "I
don' want ter go ter 'ell if it's Uke dat."
They put him in hospital and treated him
kindly ; but once better they threw him into a
Turkish gaol. He described how the prison was
dark as night, because the poorer prisoners blocked
up the windows, stretching their arms through for
doles from the passers-by.
" We was all eaten wi' hee," he went on, " an'
if de folks 'adn't sent me money an' food I'd a starved
to def, sure. 'N den dey bribes de governor 'n a
soldier, 'n dey lets me 'scape."
He lay a cripple in Montenegro six months, but
in the summer crawled down to the Bocche de
Cattaro and on the sweltering shores of the Adriatic
built himself a primitive sweat bath. In a few
weeks he was better, and in a few months cured.
He then went to the mines in America, for he dared

DECHANI 157
not return to Macedonia. He saved £800 and
returned with it to his sister's in Serbia, but was
so oppressed by the misery about him that he gave
away all his money and went back.
" Dere's lots a mineral in dese mountains, you
feller. I show you one lump feller got a' Ipek, an'
I guess it's silver, sure. Wen de war over you come
back an' we'll go over dem places tergedder. Dere's
coal too. Lots."
He told us that the wretched skeleton who was
driving us had power in Turkish days to com
mandeer the services of Christian labourers, and to
pay them nothing.
We passed by placid fields containing cows,
horses, donkeys. The country seemed untouched
by war. Those cows could never have drawn
heavy carts and lain exhausted and foodless after
a heavy day's work. The horses reminded one of
the sleek mares owned by old ladies who hved in
awe of their coachmen.
For this all belonged to Dechani, and it was
beyond the power of the state to touch their riches ;
nor had they been molested even in the days of
Turkish rule.
' You see, monastery 'e pay money to the
toughest Albanians — Albanian they give besa —
and nobody never do no 'arm to the monasteries.
Russia she send much money, she send always her

158 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
priest to Dechani and the Turks they keep sorter
respectful." Our first sight of Dechani disappointed us a
little, the proportions lacked the beauty of the Ipek
church ; but the big old door marked by the fire
the Turks had built against it, decades before,
cheered us up a bit.
A pleasant priest with a smooth face and ringlets
two feet long greeted us and led us to the httle
Russian hospital which was fitted into the Abbey,
warning us not to bang our heads against the heavy
oak beams in the corridors.
The Russians welcomed us heartily, preparing
the most wonderful tea, Austrahan butter, white
bread made with flour brought from Russia.
Pavlovitch enjoyed himself immensely. Food
was thin in the barracks. But he was very worried
about the priest's long ringlets.
"I'd soon cure 'im, a month diggin' de trench ! "
he murmured. After tea we examined the church. The interior
was one miraculous blue : pictures with blue back
grounds, apostles with blue draperies, blue skies, a
wonderful lapis lazuli.
Once the Moslems had overpowered the defenders
of the church and had got in, the eyes of some of
the saints were picked through the plaster. Legend
runs, however, that while they were desecrating

DECHANI 159
the tomb of Tzar Stephan who founded the church,
the tomb of the queen, which lay alongside, ex
ploded with a violent report and terror struck the
Turks, who fled.
They showed us the queen's tomb, spht from
top to bottom. The priests naturally claim a
miracle ; but Pavlovitch said, " I tink dey verry
clever, dey done dat wi' gunpowder."
The Tzar Stephan had wished to build the church
of gold and precious stones, but a soothsayer said —
" No, my lord, build it of plain stone, for your
empire will be robbed from you, and if it be of gold
greedy men will tear it to pieces, but if it be of
plain stone it will remain a monument for ever."
So he built it of fine marble. The central
piUars were forty feet high, and each cut from a
single piece, with grotesque carved capitals. The
great screen was wonderfully carved and gilded.
Wherever one looked was decoration, almost in
excess. Ringlets invited us to tea with the Russian
bishop who was in charge. He was a stout, sweet-
mannered httle man, who shook his head woefully
over the war.
Somehow Pavlovitch discovered that he and
the bishop were the same age, forty-eight. We
contrasted Pavlovitch's spare athletic frame
with the well-fed shape of the bishop, and felt

160 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
instinctively which was the better Christian.
Coffee and slatka were brought in. This slatka
is always handed to callers in well-regulated
Serbian households. It is jam accompanied by
many httle spoons and glasses of water. Each
guest dips out a spoonful, hcks the spoon, drinks the
water, and places his spoon in the glass. There is
also a curious custom with regard to the coffee.
If a guest outstays his welcome, a second cup is
brought in and ceremoniously placed before him —
but, of course, this hint depends upon how it is
done. "It is Friday," remarked Pavlovitch, regret
fully. " Odder days we gits mighty good meal."
He was very anxious for us to stay the night so
that we should fit in a first-class breakfast, but the
morrow was the Ipek fair, and we could not miss
that. Night was coming so we hurried off and drove
away. The horses went quite fast, as we had made
them a present of some barley. We had discovered
that since the beginning of the war, when they had
been requisitioned by the Montenegrin Govern
ment, they had hved on nothing but hay, and the
owner, who was driving them, said that they would
soon die, and that when they did he would not
receive a penny and would be a ruined man. He
added patheticaUy —

THE CARPET MARKET 161
" One does not hke to see one's beasts die like
that, for after all one is fond of them."
We arrived after dark, and ordered supper for
three. The inn lady was scandahzed.
" But that is a common soldier," she said.
' There are many fine folk in the dining-room,
arrived to-day. The General  "
So we dined upon the landing.
The next day we got up very early, went down
to the dining-room and found it was full of sleeping
forms ; we had coffee in our room.
We wandered round the market. It was stUl
too early, people were arriving and spreading their
wares, men were hanging bright carpets on the white
walls. Beggars were everywhere, exhibiting their
gains in front of them. If one could understand
they seemed to cry hke this —
" Ere y'are, the old firm ; put your generous
money on the real thing. I 'as more misery to
the square inch than any other 'as to the square
yard." We found bargaining impossible, as they only
spoke Albanian, and we could only get as far as
" Sar," how much.
Pavlovitch turned up later and was very helpful.
We hurried him to a silver shop which was dis
playing a round silver boss. He beat them down
from sixteen to ten dinars, after which we plunged
M

162 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
into a side street filled with women squatted cross-
legged behind a collection of everything that an
industrious woman who owns sheep can con
fection. " I have nothing for thee," said an old woman to
Jo, who peered into her basket — Pavlovitch trans
lating. Jo withdrew a tiny pair of stockings — a marvel
of knitting in many coloured patterns.
" What about these ? " she said.
" Hast thou children ? "
" No ; but how much ? " said Jo.
The price was four piastres. Jo gave four
groschen and the old woman peered anxiously at
the money in her palm.
" It is too much," she said.
Pavlovitch explained that somehow four gro
schen worked out to more than four piastres ; but
we left her to calculate what fractions of a centime
she had gained.
Our old innkeeper looked very truculent when
we entered.
" Are you going to lunch here ? "
" No ; we left word."
" Then you can't stay here."
We pointed out that her meals were bad and
very dear. She retahated by making a fearful
noise, and invited us to go and sleep at the Europe ;

W-'

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IN THE BAZAAR OF IPEK.

STREET minnr-p cpi t tj*t-> t-kt

A HAREM 163
but we remembered the Archbishop's story and
stood firm.
" If you don't leave us in peace we wiU appeal
to the Governor."
" Do, do. Go to the Governor," said the old
lady, her little girl, a wry-mouthed charwoman and
a httle boy whom Jo had noticed stealing our
cigarettes. The dog joined in and barked voci
ferously. We went to the Governor who was near by.
" They don't understand innkeeping here, and she
is a drunken old slut," he said, and sent for her
husband. We went defiantly again to the Europe for
lunch. Jo had been expressing her wish to Pavlovitch
to visit a harem. He came to tell us that it had
been arranged, as the chief of the pohce was a
friend of his, and he had asked a rich Moslem to let
her visit his wives. The Moslem had graciously
assented, saying that he would do it as a great
favour to the chief of the pohce, and that no
" European " woman had ever visited an Ipek
harem. We went down the broad street with its brilhant
houses, admiring the gaudy colours of the women's
trousers. " What a pity," we said, " that such a
word as loud was invented in the Enghsh language."

164 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
Outside a huge doorway were sitting the chief
of pohce and the wealthy Albanian. We were
introduced with great ceremony, and the Moslem,
losing no time, took Jo through the doorway into
a courtyard. At the end was another door
guarded by a responsible-looking Albanian. He
stood aside, and she entered another court full
of trees and a basket-work hut. She passed
through the lower story, which was full of grain,
and ascended into a beautiful room with a seat
built all round it.
It was entirely furnished with carpets. He
waved his hand to the seat, caUed to his wives
much as a sportsman summons his dogs, and
left. They came in, three women, simply dressed in
chemise and flowered cotton bloomers. Their
voices were shaking with excitement, and they
were fearfully upset because Jo got up to shake
hands with them.
They only spoke Albanian, and a few words
of Serb. One had been very beautiful, but her
teeth were decayed, another was a healthy-looking
young woman, and the third was frankly hideous.
They brought coffee, the chief wife presenting
it with her hand across her chest — a pohte way of
saying— " I am your slave."

TURKISH WOMEN 165
Jo spoke Serb, and they clearly said in
Albanian —
" If only we could tell what you are saying."
After which every one sat and beamed, and
they kept calling for somebody.
A plump dark-eyed girl came in, the first wife's
daughter. She spoke Serb, and interpreted for the
wives. They wanted to know everything, but knew so
httle that they could grasp nothing.
Where had Jo come from ? She tried London,
Paris ; no use, they had never heard of them — two
weeks on the sea — they didn't know what the sea
was, nor ships nor boats. They had never left
Ipek and only knew the httle curly river.
The girl said that " devoikas " did not learn to
read and write. That was for the men.
Jo finaUy explained that she had ridden on
horseback from Plevhe. Then they gasped —
" How far you have travelled ! What a wonder
ful life, and does your husband let you speak to
other men ? "
She asked them what they did.
" Nothing." " Sewing ? " "A httle," they
owned with elegant ease.
The chief wife had recently lost one of her
children, but did not seem to know of what it had
died.

166 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
" I should think a woman doctor would be
useful here," said Jo.
They screamed with laughter. " How funny !
Why, she would be so thick ! " they said, stretching
their arms as wide as they could.
They kept inventing pretexts for keeping her,
but when she rose to go for the third time they
regretfully bade her fareweU, the daughter took
both her hands and imprinted a smacking kiss.
Outside the healthy-looking wife emerged from
the basket hut, where she was evidently preparing
some dehcacy to bring up, and showed signs of deep
disappointment. The responsible-looking man who let her out
also expressed his regrets that she had not stayed
longer. In the great street doorway was seated
the husband, but no Jan, no Pavlovitch, so Jo
sat with him, somewhat embarrassed, eating bits
of apple which he peeled for her.
In the afternoon we went to bid fareweU to the
Archbishop and took Pavlovitch with us. The
Archbishop gave Pavlovitch a poor welcome until
he heard his name.
" Are you Nikola Pavlovitch, of whom I have
heard so much from the Governor ? I thought you
were only a common soldier. I have met you
at last." We felt we were really consorting with the great.

REPENTANCE 167
Jo related her harem experiences, and he told
of the attempts of the young Turks in Constanti
nople to abohsh the veil, of how he had assisted
at smaU dinner parties where the ladies had dis
carded their veils, and of the ferocity with which
the priests and leaders had fought and quashed the
movement. One lady had ventured unveiled into the bazaar,
and one of the lowest of women had given her a
blow on the face. On appeahng to a pohceman
she had received smaU comfort, as he told her she
ought to be ashamed of herself.
As we went home we met women coming home
from the fair with unsold carpets. They accosted
us and wanted to know why we were writing them
in the morning so that they could tell their relatives
all about it.
When we reached our bedroom the old innkeeper
came in. In dulcet tones she admired our pur
chases. We were rather stiff.
Suddenly she feU upon Jo's neck saying, " You
mustn't be angry with me," and remained there
explaining. When she left, Jo looked gravely at Jan,
took a toothcomb, let down her hair, and worked
hard for a while.
Next day we went for a long walk. As we were
returning a terrific storm burst over us. We had

168 IPEK, DECHANI AND A HAREM
left our mackintoshes in the inn, and were soon wet
through. We got back just at supper time, and
after, as Jan had no change of clothing, he decided
to go to bed in his wet things, heaping blankets
and rugs over himself in the hopes of being dry by
the morrow.

#

y

ekSt&s*!

CHAPTER XII
THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO — II
Jan awoke nearly dry, or in a sort of warm damp
ness, at 4.30 a.m. Not a soul was about, and we
packed by candle. There was a purple dawn,
and the towering chffs behind the minarets glowed
a deep cerise for at least ten minutes ere the light
reached the town. The streets were still and
deserted, but at last an old man with a coffee
machine on his back, and a tin waistbelt full of
pigeon-holes containing cups, took a seat at a corner.
At six he was surrounded by groups of Albanian
workmen drinking coffee, and he beckoned us to
come and take coffee with him, but we were
suspicious of the cleanliness of his crockery. A
miserable-looking woman in widow's weeds was
loitering about the door of the post office, and with
her was a tattered girl surrounded by trunks, suit
cases, and bandboxes, so we guessed they were
there to be fellow passengers. A waggon loaded
with boxes halted before them, but the widow
declined to let her baggage go by it.
169

170 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— 11
At last the post waggon came. It was a small
springless openwork cart with a rounded hood on it,
so that it could roll when it upset — which was the
rule rather than the exception — luggage accommo
dation was provided only for the " soap and tooth
brush " type of traveller ; but the widow insisted
upon packing in all her movables, and after that
we four squeezed into what room was left. The
seat was low, one's chin and knees were in
dangerous proximity, and a less ideal position for
travelhng some thirty-five miles could not be
imagined. The widow's portmanteau, aU knobs
and locks, was arranged to coincide with Jo's spine.
The tattered maid was loaded with five packages
on her knees which she could not control, so we
looked as cheerful as we could and said to ourselves,
" Anyway it will do in the book."
At the start Jan was rather grateful for the
squash, for the air was chiUy ; soon the damp,
exposed parts of his clothing cooled to freezing
point, and it was lucky that they were not more
extensive. As we rolled over the craters and crests of the—
what had once been — stone-paved streets, the
driver halted, here to buy a large loaf of bread,
there to purchase smelly cheese, and finally to
pick up a gold-laced officer, whom we took to be the
post-guard. The driver, who sat back to back with

TO MITROVITZA 171
Jan, grumbled at him because he took up too much
room. But Jan rephed that it was his own fault
for not making the carriage bigger, and that his
knees were not telescopic. We received the post
of Montenegro, for this was the only road out ; it
consisted of three letters and a circular, so we
judged that Montenegrin censorship was pretty
strict. The road was flat, the surrounding country
covered with httle scrubby oak bushes, in and out of
which ran innumerable black pigs who had long cross
pieces bound to their necks to prevent them from
pushing through hedges into the few maize fields.
As the miles passed Jan slowly began to dry, his
temperature went up and his temper became
better. The widow, we discovered, was the rehct
of a Greek doctor who had died of typhus in
Plevhe, and she was returning to her native
land. Presently we came to a smaU inn, a hut hke
all others, and the driver commanded us to get out.
By this time we were accustomed to the sight of
nobles kissing market women relatives, and it did
not surprise us to see the officer embrace the rather
dirty hostess of the inn and kiss all the children ;
but when he took his place behind the bar and
began to serve the coffee ! . . . It was a minute
before we reahzed that he had not been guarding

172 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— II
the three letters and the circular, but merely was
returning home.
At the Montenegrin frontier, which was some
hours on, a soldier asked us for a fift, as though he
could not see that we were already bulging at all
points with excess luggage ; at the Serbian frontier
Jan was asked for his passport, and as they did not
demand that of the widow, we concluded that they
imagined her to be Mrs. Gordon, and Jo and the
tattered one, two handmaids.
Immediately over the frontier the road began
to be Serbian, but not as Serbian as it became
later on, and we reached Rudnik — and lunch —
in good condition. Another carriage similar to our
own was here, containing a Turkish family. The
father, a great stalwart Albanian, and the son a
budding priest in cerise socks. The priest was
carrying food to his carriage, and we discovered
that a woman was within, stowed away at the back
like the widow's luggage, and carefully protected
by two curtains, so that no eye should behold her.
Her sufferings between Rudnik and Mitrovitza
can be imagined when you have heard ours.
From Rudnik we walked to ease our cramped
hmbs, and the road became so bad that the driver
went across country to avoid it. Here is the
receipt for making a Serbian road.
" The engineer in charge shall send two hundred

SERBIAN ROADS 173
bullock trains from Here to There. He shall then
find out along which path the greater number have
traveUed (i.e. which has the deepest ruts), after
which an Austrian surveyor shall map it and mark
it, ' Road to There.' Should the ruts become so
deep that the carts are shding upon their bottoms
rather than travelling upon their wheels, an
overseer must be sent to throw stones at it. He
and ten devils worse than himself shall heave
rocks till they think they have hurt it enough,
when they may return home, leaving the road
ten times worse than before, for the boulders by
no means are to fill the ruts, but only to render
them more exciting."
Oh, we walked. Indeed, we walked a good deal
more than the driver thought comphmentary, we
got out at every uphill, and put steam on so that
we should not be caught on the downhills. By
supreme efforts we managed to get in four hours'
walking out of the torturous thirteen. Once —
when we were a long way ahead — we were stopped
by a gendarme.
" Where are your passports ? " demanded he.
" In the post- waggon," rephed Jan.
" Why did you leave your passports in the
post- waggon ? "
" Because they were in the pocket of my great
coat."

174 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— II
" Why did you leave your great-coat in the
post-waggon ? "
" Because it is hot."
" I shall have to arrest you," quoth the gen
darme. But his officer came from an adjoining building
and told him not to make a fool of himseU,
and on we went, taking short cuts, following the
telegraph poles, which staggered across country
hke a file of drunkards.
Eventually the carriage caught us up and the
driver insisted that we should get in. He added
that he could not lose all day while we walked,
and that he would never get to Mitrovitza ; it
seemed superfluous to point out that we had gone
quicker than he, but to avoid argument we clam
bered in. The driver, in a temper, slashed his
horses, and off we went, over ruts and stones full
speed ahead. It was hke being in a small boat in
a smart cross-choppy sea, with httle torpedoes
exploding beneath the keel at three minute intervals;
and this road was marked on the map as a first-
class road ; the mind staggers at what the second
and third-class must be hke. These countries
are still barbarous at heart, but Europe cries out
upon open atrocities, and so they have invented the
post-waggon. After aU, pain is a thing one can
add up, and the sum total of misery produced by

SERBIAN ROADS 175
the post, travelhng daily, must in time exceed that
of the Spanish Inquisition. Thus do they gratify
their brutal natures.
We bounded along. The brakes did not work,
the carriage banged against the horses' hocks, who,
in turn, leapt forwards, and our four heads met in a
resounding thump in the centre of the waggon ;
after which Jo insisted that the widow should turn
her hatpins to the other side. The widow's luggage
cast loose and hit us in cunning places when we
were not looking. The cart rocked and heaved,
and we expected it to turn over. There were
other waggons on the road — heavy, slow ox carts,
exporting wool or importing benzine or ammuni
tion, with wheels of any shape bar round — some
were even octagonal ; and as they filed along they
gave forth sounds reminiscent of Montenegrin song,
a last wail from the hospitable httle country whose
borders we were leaving behind us.
The driver promised us a better road further
on ; but the better road never came, and we hung
on waiting for something to break and give us
rehef . There were hints, it is true, unfinished hints :
some day men wUl be able to travel in comfort from
Mitrovitza to Ipek, but the day is not yet. It is
strange how the human frame gets used to things,
and we grew to beheve that our driver not only hked,
but joyed in each extra bang and jolt — collected

176 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTKNMrttu-

-j.i

them as it were — for certainly he never avoided
anything, though occasionally he wound at the
brake, but that was only for show, because he knew
that it did not work.
We reached Mitrovitza at dark with bones
unbroken, and rattled down a road with vague
white Turkish houses upon one side, and a muddy
looking stream reflecting dull hghts on the other.
One last lurid lunge, we leapt across a drain and
broke a trace bar, but too late, we had arrived.
The Hotel Bristol was full — why are there so
many hotels in Serbia named Bristol ? — but we
were received by a stupid-looking maid at the
Kossovo, and were given a paper to sign, saying
who we were. Then down to the restaurant, where
we had a beefsteak which was a dream, and back
to bed, which was a nightmare, for aU night long
we bounced and banged and bruised our journey
over again, and awoke quite exhausted.
The first impression of a town which is entered by
moonhght is usually difficult to recover on the
following morning, it is often hke the ghmpse of a
pretty girl caught, say, in a theatre lobby, and the
charm may never be rewoven. So it was with
Mitrovitza, which in dayhght seemed just a dull,
ordinary Turkish town. The Prefect was a bear,
and sent us on a long unnecessary walk to the
station, a mile and a half. Sitting on the road was

THE MUSICIAN 177
the dirtiest beggar we had yet seen. As we came
towards her she chanted our praises, bowing before
us and kissing the dust; but she aroused only
feehngs of disgust and getting nothing, she turned
to curses till we were out of sight. The chief
imports at the station seemed to be cannons and
maize ; the only exports, millstones, which looked
hke and seemed almost as palatable as Serbian
bread. We did our business without trouble, and
coming back the beggar praised us once more till
we had passed, then hurled even louder curses
after us.
We came to a tiny cafe in which were faint
tinkling, musical sounds.
Jan : "I wonder what that is ? "
Jo : " It sounds queer : shall we explore % "
Jan : " I dunno, perhaps they wouldn't hke us."
Jo : " Come along. Let's see anyhow."
And up we went. In a large room was a deep
window seat, and in the window the queerest httle
Turkish dwarf imaginable. The httle dwarf was
sitting cross-legged, and was playing a plectrum
instrument. His head was huge, his back was hke
a bow, and his plectrum arm bent into an S curve,
which curled round his instrument as though it
had been bent to fit. He was a born artist, and
rapped out little airs and trills which made the
heart dance. There were three soldiers at tables,
N

178 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— 11
and presently one sprang out on to the floor and
began to posture and move his feet, a woman
joined him ; the httle man's music grew wild and
more rapid ; another man sprang in, another
woman joined, and soon all four were stamping and
jigging till the floor rocked beneath them. We gave
the httle man a franc for his efforts, and his broad
face nearly spht in his endeavour to express a
voiceless gratitude.
We were no longer royalty, we were just duU,
ordinary everyday folk, and at the station had
endless formahties to go through, examinations of
passes, etc., during which time all intending
passengers were locked in the waiting-room. But
at last we were allowed to take seats in the train,
and off we went.
We passed through the plain of Kossovo where
old Serbian culture was prostrated before the
onrush of the Turk, and whence Serbia has drawn
all its legends and heroes ; possibly the most
unromantic looking spot in aU Europe, save only
Waterloo. Here, far to the left, was Mahmud's
tomb : — Mahmud the great victor, stabbed the day
before the battle, and dying as he saw his armies
victorious. History contains no keener romance.
Serge the hero, accompanied by two faithful
servants, galloped to the Turkish camp, and com
manded an interview with the Moslem general,

KOSSOVO 179
who thought he was coming to be a traitor. In
face of the Divan the hero flung himself from his
horse, drew his sword, and stabbed Mahmud where
he sat, surrounded by his armies. Before the
astounded guards had recovered their surprise,
Serge was again upon his great charger and was
out of the camp, cutting down any who barred
his passage. Mahmud did not die immediately,
and his doctors slew a camel and thrust him into
the stiU quivering animal ; when the dead beast
was coohng, they slew another, and thus the
Moslem was kept alive tiU the Serbian hosts had
been overthrown. He and the Serbian Czar were
buried on the same field — one dead in victory, one
in defeat. We trundled slowly over the great plain whose
decision altered the fate of the world, for who knows
what might have grown up under a great Byzantine
culture ? The farms were sohdly built houses with
great weU-filled yards, surrounded by high and
defensible walls. We came into stations where
long shambhng youths, dressed in badly made
European clothes, lounged and ogled the girls in
" this style, 14/6 " dresses. Signs of culture !
Why should the bowler hat, indiarubber collars,
and bad teeth be indissolubly bound to " Education
Bills " and " Factory Acts " ? Why should the
Serbian peasant be forced to give up his beautiful

180 THE HIGHWAY OF MONTENEGRO— II
costume for celluloid cuffs, lose his artistic instincts
in exchange for a made-up tie ? It is the march of
civilization, dear people, and must on no account
be hindered. Coming back to Serbia from Montenegro was
hke shpping from a warm into a cool bath. One is
irresistibly reminded that the Lords of Serbia
withdrew to Montenegro, leaving the peasantry
behind, for every peasant in the black mountains
is a noble and carries a noble's dignity ; while
Karageorge was a pig farmer. There is a warmth
in Montenegro — save only Pod. — which is not so
evident in its larger brother ; a welcome, which is
not so easily found in Serbia. The Montenegrin
peasant is hke a great child, looking at the varied
world with thirteenth-century unspoiled eyes ;
centuries of Turkish oppression has dulled the
wit of the Serb, and at the outbreak of the war
Teutonic culture was completing the process.
We passed beneath the shadow of Shar Dagh,
the highest peak in the peninsula, six thousand feet
from the plain, springing straight up to a point
for all to admire, a mountain indeed.
We reached Uskub at dusk, found a hotel, and
went out to dine. The restaurant was empty, but
through a half-open door one could hear the sounds
of music. The restaurant walls were — super
fluously — decorated with paintings of food which

USKUB

181

almost took away one's appetite ; but one enormous
panel of a dressed sucking pig riding in a Lohengrin-
like chariot over a purple sea amused us.
In the beer hall a tinkly mandohne orchestra
was playing, and a woman without a voice sang
a popular song — one thought of the women on the
Rieka River — a tired girl dressed in faded tights
did a few easy contortions between the tables, and
in a bored manner coUected her meed of haUpence —
we thought of the cheery idiot of Scutari. Was it
worth it, we asked each other, this tinsel culture to
which we had returned ? And not bothering to
answer the question went back to our hotel and
to bed.

CHAPTER XIII
USKUB
Uskub is a Smell on one side of which is built a
prim httle French town finished off with conven
tionally placed poplars in true Latin style ; and
on the other side lies a disreputable, rambling
Turkish village culminating in a cone of rock upon
which is the old fortress called the Grad.
The country about Uskub is a great cemetery,
and on every hand rise httle rounded hiUs bristhng
with gravestones hke almonds in a tipsy-cake.
Strange old streets there are in Uskub. One
comes suddenly upon half-buried mosques with
grass growing from their dilapidated domes, a
refuge only for chickens ; some deserted baths,
and in the midst of all, its outer walls hke a
prison and with prison windows, the old cara
vanserai. We crept to its gateway and through a crack
saw visions of a romantic courtyard. The gate was
locked, and we asked a httle shoemaker —
" Who has the key ? "
182

THE CARAVANSERAI 183
It is now a leather tannery," he answered,
and directed us to a shoemaker in another street.
This was full of shoemakers, and we chased the key
from shop to shop. It was hke " Hunt the slipper."
At last we ran it to earth in the second waistcoat
of a neghgent individual in a fez.
How happy the merchant of old must have felt
when he entered the courtyard after a long journey !
The court was big and square, with a fountain in
the centre, the pillars were blue, and the arches
red. Tiers upon tiers of httle rooms were built
around ; the expensive ones had windows and the
cheap ones none, and the door of each was marked
by the smoke of a thousand fires which had been
ht within. Underneath were cubby holes for the
merchants' goods, and behind it all was a great
dark stable for the animals. Once shut up in the
caravanserai one was safe from robbers, revolutions,
and the outside world. Lying in the doorway, as
if cast there by some gigantic ogre in a fit of
temper, were two immense marble vases, and two
queer carved stone figures. Who made these
figures ? Mystery — for Turkey does not carve.
The old caravanserai no longer gives protection to
the harassed traveUer, it only cures his boots, for
it has fallen from sanctuary to shoemakers, and the
leather workers of Uskub cure their hides therein.
Hence, despite its beauty, we did not loiter long,

184 USKUB
for we have ever held a bad smell more powerful
than a beautiful view.
Why don't towns look tragic when their bricks
reek of tragedy ? Why is industrial misery the
only form in which the cry of the oppressed is
allowed to take visible shape and to make the
reputation of Reahst artists ? In Uskub is con
centrated the whole problem of the Balkans and
of Macedonia. Her brightly painted streets are
filled with Serb, Bulgar, and Turk, each disliking
the rule of the other, the Bulgar hating the Serb
only worse than the Turk because the Serb is
master. To the inquiring mind it is problematic
how much of this hate is national, and how much
pohtical. Deprive these peasant populations of
their jealous, land-grabbing propagandist rulers,
and what rancour would remain between them ?
Intensive civihzation, such as has been apphed to
these states — civihzation which has swept one
class to the twentieth century, while it leaves the
others in its primitive simphcity — seems always to
produce the worst results. Nations can only crawl
to knowledge and to the possessions of riches,
for pohtics to the simple are hke " drinks " to the
savage and equally deadly in effect.
Can the problem ever be resolved ? Can Serbia
with half her manhood wiped out stand against
her jealous neighbours ? The creation of a lot

THE OLDEST CAFE IN SERBIA 185
of small states on repubhcan principles seems a
far-fetched idea, and yet it seems the best, especially
if the menace of Turkey were removed, for there
is httle doubt that Turkey, rearmed by the German,
might make one more effort to regain her lost
territory under conditions vastly different from
those which ruled in the Balkan conflict. Mace
donia, Albania, and what is now Turkey in Europe,
each made seU-governing under the shield of the
Alliance — why not ? — and Serbia as compensa
tion aUowed to expand towards the north into
territories which are wholly Serb in nationahty
and in feehng.
We went through the pot market, whose
orange earthenware was glowing in the sun, and
came upon an old house with such a wonder
ful ultramarine courtyard that we went in to
look. Over the door was written Old Serb
Cafe Jansie Han. After sketching there we
entered the inn for coffee, and sat at tables made
of thick blocks of marble smoothed only at the
top. The innkeeper said it was built in the days
of the Czar Duchan. If this were true, one would
say that never had the interior been whitewashed
since then. But there was an air of cosiness
about it, and we visited it several times after.
Near by was a httle church with a wonderful
carved screen and a picture of Ehjah going to heaven

186 USKUB
in a chariot drawn by a pink horse, with the
charioteer bumping along on a separate cloud,
which served as the box. We watched the sun
set from one of the tipsy-cake hiUs, sitting
on a gravestone with an old Turkish shepherd,
who seemed to derive great comfort from our
company. The mountains around reflected the rosy hghts
of the sun in great flat masses.
The muezzin sounded from the many minarets,
and twilight was on us. Uskub, romantic, dirty,
unhealthy Uskub, was soon shrouded in mist ; a
vision of unusual beauty.
One thought of the awful winter it had passed
through, when dead and dying had lain about the
streets. Typhus, relapsing fever, and typhoid
had gripped the town. Lady Paget's staff, while
grappling with the trouble, had paid a heavy toll,
as their hospital lay deep on the unhealthy part of
the city. For a time the citadel was in the hands
of an Enghsh unit. Before they were there it
was a Serbian hospital, and the staff threw aU the
dirty, stained dressings over the chff, down which
they rolled to the road. The peasants used to
collect these pestiferous morsels and made them
into padded quilts. Little wonder that illness
spread ! In the summer Lady Paget's hospital
withdrew to some great barracks on the hill. The

LADY PAGET'S 187
paths were made of Turkish tombstones, which
were always used in Uskub for road metal.
The hospital staff was saddened by the recent
death of Mr. Chichester, who had, hke ourselves,
just returned from a tour in the western mountains,
where he caught paratyphoid and only hved a few
days. One of the doctors had been in Albania, on an
inoculating expedition. At Durazzo he had been
received by Essad Pacha, who was dehghted to
have his piano played, and to watch the hammers
working inside. Like Helen's babies, " he wanted
to see the wheels go wound." The piano and
piles of music must have been a memento of the
Prince and Princess of Wied and of their unhappy
attempts at being Mpret and Mpretess — or is it
Mpretitza, or Mpretina ? The music was still
marked with her name, and was certainly not a
present to Essad.
The stamp of the Enghsh was on Uskub. Prices
were high. One Turk offered us a rubbishy silver
thing for fifteen dinars ; and Jan laughed, saying
that one could see the Enghsh had been there.
Without blushing the man pointed to a twin article,
saying he would let that go for five dinars.
What caused us to feel that we had wandered
enough ? Was it the awful cinematograph show
which led us through an hour and a half of

188 USKUB
melodrama without our grasping the plot, or was
it that the large copper tray we bought fiUed us
with a sense of responsibihty ?
At this wavering moment Lady Paget held a
meeting of her staff. We lunched there, and part
of the truth leaked out after the meeting.
The Bulgars really were coming in against us,
and in a day or two we were to see things.
That decided the matter. We went to the
prefect's office for our pass. Firstly, we were
ushered into a room occupied by a man in khaki,
whose accent betrayed that he hailed from the
States. He was " something sanitary," and
belonged to the American commission, so we
tried again. This time the porter took us up to
a landing, said a few words into a doorway, and
left us standing. As he was wandering in our
vicinity, Jo tried one of her two talismans : it is
the word" Preposterous" ejaculated explosively,
and is safely calculated to stagger a foreign soul.
The other is a well-known dodge. If a person
bothers you, look at his boots with a pained
expression. He will soon take himself off — boots
and all.
The tahsman worked, the pass was quickly
managed, and we had but to spend our time
among the shops again. We resisted the seduc
tions of an old man with fifty knives in his belt,

USKUB STATION 189
who reminded Jo of a horrible nightmare of her
infancy. In her dream a grandfather with a basket had
come peddhng. Suddenly his coat, blowing aside,
revealed not a body, but a busy sewing-machine
in excellent working order. In her agitation, Jo
fell out of bed.
We sat consuming beer outside a cafe decked
with pink flowered bushes in green boxes. One
of the antique dames who cook sausages in the
shadow of the cafes brought us a plate 'each —
funny httle hard things — and we bought
cakes and nougat from perambulating Peter
Piemen. The station platform was hke the last scene of
a pantomime. Every one we had met on our
journeys rushed up and shook us by the
hand. First a Belgian doctor, from Dr. Lihas
Hamilton's unit in Podgoritza. He said Mrs.
G. was also in the town, and that the others
were all coming shortly. Then we met a young
staff officer from Uzhitze, who was noted for his
bravery. The train came in and we stumbled up
to it in the dark. There was a crowd of women
about the steps in difficulty with heavy bags.
Jan ran forward to help one. She turned round.
It was a sister from Dechani. The rest turned

190 USKUB
round. It was the whole Russian mission Lfrom
Dechani. We proceeded along the corridor, and ran
into two men. We mutually began to apolo
gize. " HeUo," we said, " how did you get here ? "
They were two Americans we had met in
Salonika. We got our seats and went out of the train by
the other door. As we passed the compartment
we saw a famihar face. It was the httle French
courier. " Quel pays," he said, bounding up. " Et les
Bulgars, quoi ? "
" Good Lord," said Jan. " Let's go out and
get some fresh air."
The only people lacking to complete the scene
were the Sirdar and Dr. Clemow.
A doctor who had just arrived from Salonika
asked us to look after four Enghsh orderhes
who, new to the country, were travelhng to
the Red Cross mission at Vrntze. With them
were two trim, short-skirted, heavy booted,
Belgian nurses, who were going to a Serbian
field hospital.
The train crawled. At times it was necessary
to hold one's breath to see if we were moving at
all. It was always possible that the Bulgars

NISH 191
had blown up a bridge or so. One could imagine
an anxious driver, his eyes fixed on the hne in
front, looking for Bulgarian comitaj.
The travellers were restless. Our httle French
courier stood in the corridor looking fiercely at the
black night ; his back view eloquently expressive
of his opinion of the Balkans.
Later on we all slept. A frightful braying
sound awoke us.
No, not Bulgars — only the band. Same band,
same station, same hour, same awful incom
petence. So the princess had nothing to do with it !
Trainloads bristhng with ragged soldiers passed
us — open truck-loads of them, carriage tops
covered with sleeping men, some were chnging
to the steps and to the buffers.
Nish station had lost its sleepy air. Every
one was energetically doing everything aU wrong.
The four orderhes and the two Belgian sisters
were mi-mis their passports. Some one had taken
them away. These were run to earth in the station-
master's office, and as the party had no idea where
to go, we suggested they should come with us to
the rest-house.
The first person we met there was Dr. Clemow.
" Have you got the Sirdar with you ? " we
asked.

192 USKUB
He answered that he had brought Paul, the
young Montenegrin interpreter, with him. The
Enghsh units in Montenegro had been recalled, and
he had come to Nish to try to rescind the order
for his unit.
The town was at its gayest. The cloud had
not yet dimmed the market. Peasants poured in,
knowing nothing of the Bulgars, httle thinking
that they would be flying, starving, dying, in a
few weeks' time. A Chinese vendor of paper
gauds had come into the town, and all the pretty
girls were wearing his absurdities pinned on to
their head kerchiefs. One girl was so fine and
bejeweUed that we photographed her, to the
dehght of her lover, who stood aside to let us have
a good view.
A man was selhng honey in the comb accom
panied by his bees, which must have foUowed
him for miles. They testified their displeasure
at his selling their honey by stinging him and most
of the buyers.
No one seemed to know when the train was
leaving. Station-master, porters, all had a different
tale. At last we decided to risk seven o'clock in
the evening, and the four orderlies and ourselves,
copper tray and all, bade farewell to the Belgian
sisters, who had cut off their hair, and wandered
across to the station. The train arrived two hours

NISH 193
late and stood, ready to go out, guarded by tatter
demalions with guns.
" You can't get in yet," said one of them
barring our way.
"Why?" '
" Ne snam."
The freebooting instinct arose in us ; we
awaited our opportunity, dodged between two
soldiers, and settled ourselves comfortably.
Several officials looked in and said nothing ;
another came and forbade us to stay there, and
passed on. An old woman came with a broom
and cleaned up. We sat on our feet to get
them out of the way, somebody squirted white
disinfectant on the floor, and we were left in
peace. The train started at eleven, moved as far as a
siding and stayed till four. We found the four Red
Cross men had only nine shillings between them.
Three had stood aU the way from Salonika, as during
an unfortunate moment of interest in the view their
seats had been appropriated by a fat Serbian officer,
his wife and daughter. The fourth, a porter from
Folkestone, had settled down on the floor, saying
" he wasn't going to concarn himself with no
voos." They had new uniforms, yellow mackintoshes,
white kit bags, and beautiful cooking apparatus,

194 USKUB
which took to pieces and served a thousand
purposes. In the chilly morning we got out at Stalatch,
just too late for the Vrntze train. Luckily the
station cafe was open.
The four Enghshmen ordered beefsteak, but
were given long lean tasteless sausages. They
asked for tea and were given black Turkish coffee
in tiny cups half full of grounds. We asked about
the trains, and were told we should catch the one
next day. We argued, and extracted the promise
of a luggage train, which would soon pass.
Why is it that in Serbia they always, on
principle, say, " You can't," after which under
pressure they own, " Somehow you can " ? In
Montenegro they say, " Certainly you can," after
which they occasionally find that " Somehow you
can't." At last the luggage train came. We sat
on the step danghng our legs and peering down at
the country below us.
We were again held up at Krusevatz and
bearded the officials. They promised to put on
a special carriage for us when the next luggage-
train should come in, some time that evening.
Nothing for it but to lunch and to kill time.
We watched the mountain batteries pass on their
way to the Bulgarian frontier. One or two big

BIG GUN PASSING THROUGH KRUSEVATZ.

THE LAST LAP 195
cannon trailed by, drawn by oxen. Many horses
looked wretched and haU-starved.
The Enghshmen built a camp fire by the rail
road. Soon tea was brewing ; we drank, and
chewed walnuts, stared at by crowds of patient
Serbian soldiers.
We traveUed with the treasurer of the district,
a charming man who revelled in stories of a mis
chievous boyhood spent in a Jesuit estabhshment.
The fathers had stuck to him nobly until he had
mixed red paint with the holy water, and one
of the fathers, while administering the service,
had suddenly beheld his whole congregation
marked on the forehead with damnatory crosses
like criminals of old time. That ended his school
days. He introduced us to an officer, whose
business it was to search for spies, a restless man
who was always feehng under the seats with his
feet. Perhaps it was only cramp ! The four
Enghshmen, cheered at the thought that their
long journey was nearing its end, burst into song.
The Serbs stood round listening to the melodies
that were so different to their own plaintive waihngs,
and presently asked us to translate. We don't
know if the subtleties of " Didn't want to do
it," or " The httle grey home in the west," were
very clear in the translations, as they seemed
puzzled.

196 USKUB
Arrived at Vrntze, we found no carriages to
meet us. The station-master at Krusevatz had
promised to telephone, but as usual had not done
it. We had to break the news to our Enghsh
men, who, their songs over, had naturally fallen
into tired depression, and had to tell them that
a three-kilometre walk was before us, and one man
had better stay to look after the baggage. Car
riages were telephoned for, but they would be long
in coming. They were ! We arrived at the village — no
carriages. We agitated. The spy searcher came
out of the cafe — to which he and the " Bad Boy's
Diary" man had driven — and made people run
about. They said the carriages had already gone.
We denied it, so they woke up the coachman.
We took the three men to the hospital and went
back to sit in the cafe with our new friends and
met many old ones. The local chemist cheered
and promised us a present of mackintosh cotton
to celebrate our return. We had spent Easter
morning in his shop eating purple eggs and drinking
tea enhvened with brandy, while the choir came
in and chanted beautiful Easter songs to us.
An hour rolled by, the cafe closed, our friends
disappeared. We went to meet the carriages
from the station; at last they arrived, with Mr.
Owen half asleep amidst the kitbags.

HOME AGAIN

197

It was far into the night when we arrived at
our hospital burdened with our two bags and the
copper tray.
The night nurse, a kitten, and a round wooUy
puppy welcomed us.

CHAPTER XIV
mainly retrospective
Hospital work again. How strange we felt.
A sad-faced httle Serbian lady, widowed through
typhus, was interpreting for the out-patients
while Jo was away ; but she was alone in the world
and did not want to go — so Jo, homesick for her
beloved out-patients, had to make the best of it
and do other work. The Serbian youth who
had been put on the staff as secretary, was
dangerously ill with typhoid fever, which he had
picked up at Kragujevatz. The typhus barrack
was a children's hospital, containing httle waifs
chosen from the out-patients, and a few women.
In the early days when we had first arrived at
Vrntze there were several overfiUed Serbian and one
Greek hospital. They were only cafes and large
villas, unsanitary, stuffy, and overworked. The
windows were never open, and through the huge
sheets of plate glass could be dimly seen in the thick
blue tobacco smoke a higgledy-piggledy crowd of
beds. Often two men lay in one bed covered with
198

EARLY DAYS 199
their dirty great coats, while typhus patients and
wounded men slept together. One man lay un
conscious for several days in the window, his feet
in his dinner-plate. At last he died, his feet still
in the dinner. Mr. Berry took on a hydropathic
estabhshment which had been completed just
before the first Balkan War. This was used as
the central hospital, where the staff lodged, and
the most serious surgical cases were nursed. In
the basement an operating-room was rigged up,
there were bathrooms, disinfecting-rooms, a
laundry, and an engine-house, where gimcrack
German machinery in fits and starts provided us
with electric fight and hot water. The village
school on the hill opposite was annexed and
cleaned by a sculptor, a singer, a painter, and a
judge of the Royal Horse Show. This was run
as a convalescent home, and was the cause of
many a muddy sit down, as it lay on the top of a
greasy hiU.
Other large buildings were gradually added,
sulphured, and cleaned until we had six hospitals,
one of which was run for some time in connection
with the Red Cross unit.
Typhus had not stricken the viUage badly, but
the old barracks were full of cases which developed
several days after each batch of wounded came.
The Red Cross unit took on the typhus barracks.

200 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
Mr. Berry, seeing that surgery was for the moment
a secondary thing, and having received a batch of
Austrian prisoners riddled with typhus, built
some barracks not far from the school. Glass was
unobtainable, so thin mushn was used for the
windows. The first precaution against bad air that Mr.
Berry took in preparing his chief surgical ward
was to smash all top panes of the windows with a
broom, thus earning the name of the Window
Breaker. Whenever the wind blew through the
draughty corridors and glass rattled down from the
sashes, word went round that " Mr. Berry has
been at it again."
Our unit and the Red Cross ran a quarantine
hospital together. It was originaUy the state
cafe and lay in the park of the watering-place.
Near by were the sulphur baths. We ripped out
the stuffy httle wooden dressing-rooms, to the joy
of the bath attendant, who possessed the facsimile
of Tolstoi's face, and with the debris we built a
large shed outside for the reception of the wounded.
In the early days they came in large batches
from other hospitals, pathetic septic cases, their
hves ruined for want of proper care. We put
their clothes in bags for future disinfecting, and
the men, mildly perplexed, were bathed, shaved,
and sent to the " clearing-house," as it was called.

LICE 201
Those who developed typhus went to the barracks,
and the rest were drafted to the various hospitals
in the village.
The clothes were first sulphurized to kill the hee,
and then, until Dr. Boyle's disinfector appeared,
boiled. This was important, as typhus is pro
pagated by infected hee. Even forty-eight hours
of sulphur did not destroy the nits. One day the
sulphur-room was opened after twenty-four hours.
Live hee were discovered congregated round the
tops of the bags. Jan put some in a bottle.
They immediately fought each other, tooth and
nail, rolhng and scrambhng in a mass just hke a
rugby-footbaU scrum, and continued the fight
for twelve hours at least, thus proving that the
scientific writer who says that the louse is a dehcate
creature and only hves a few hours off the body
can know httle of the Serbian breed.
The town, when we arrived, was a bouquet of
assorted and nasty smells, of which the authorities
seemed proud. We cleaned up the streets by run
ning a httle artificial river down the gutter. Mr.
Berry had the chief of the pohce sacked and
instituted a sort of sanitary vigilance committee.
We took over the local but very primitive sewage
works — a field into which all the filth of the town
was drained.
The slaughter-house was discovered. It was

202 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
an old wooden shed built over the lower end of
the stream which washed the village from end to
end, draining successively the typhus barracks,
the baths, and all the hospitals. The shed itseU
was old and worm-eaten. The walls were caked
with the blood of years, yet the meat was always
hung against them after having been well soused
in the filthy water. Mr. Berry decided to build
a new one : some of the money was subscribed
through Mr. Blease by the Liverpool Liberal Club ;
the rest Mr. Berry paid himself. At once the state
began to quarrel with the commune as to the
ownership of the proposed treasure. So the smeUs
disappeared and the town engineer was furious,
saying he would " Put all right " when we left.
Luckily one of the chief men in the town
had hved in America and knew the value of clean
liness. Mr. Berry was offered an honorary
Colonelcy; but he refused, saying he would prefer
to be made sanitary officer for the town.
The spring came, bringing with it no fighting.
A great offensive was expected, had been ordered,
in fact, but we heard later that the army refused
to advance. The work was very much hghter.
Very few men were entirely helpless. The hospitals,
which were still emptying themselves and whose
men were coming to us, sent the survival of the
fittest. Most of the beds were carried out under

IN-PATIENTS.

SERBIAN LADIES 203
the trees after the morning dressings were done,
and the men lay gossiping and smoking when they
could get tobacco. Outside visitors were rare.
The Serbian ladies do not go round the hospitals
with cigarettes and sweets, and to find a Serbian
woman nursing is an anomaly.
Report says that many flung themselves into
it with energy during the first Balkan War, but that
four years of it, ending with typhus, had dulled
their enthusiasm. It is not fair to blame them.
To nurse from morning tiU night in a putrid
Serbian hospital with all windows closed requires
more than devotion and complete indifference to
hfe. Three Serbian ladies came to sew pillow cases
and sheets every afternoon, and one of them gave
up stiU more time to teach the patients reading
and writing.
But the town was full, in the summer, of smartly
dressed women, and the village priest never once
visited our hospitals. Hearing of the Enghsh
missions and their work, peasants began to come
from the mountains around, and the out-patient
department became, under Dr. Helen Boyle, a
matter for strenuous mornings.
Many of these poor things had never seen a
doctor in their hves. Serbia even in peace-time
had not produced many medical men, and those
who existed had no time to attend the poor gratis.

204 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
The percentage of consumptives was enormous.
Every family shuts its windows and doors for the
winter and proceeds industriously to spit, and so
the disease spreads.
Diphtheria patients rode and walked often for
ten hours and waited in the courtyard, and people
far gone with typhus staggered along in the blazing
spring sun.
One jolly old ragatops with typhus arrived
in the afternoon with a violent temperature, and
Jo settled him comfortably in the courtyard with
his head on a sink until Mrs. Berry should come in
to see about taking him into the barracks. He
seemed quite happy about himseU, but very worried
about his bhnd beggar brother and his two half-
blind children, whose sight had been ruined by
smallpox. For the latter nothing could be done.
Another time she kept two boys waiting to see
if Mrs. Berry could take them into her typhus
barracks. One had scarlet fever, and the other
was a young starving clerk in a galloping
consumption, thirty-six hours from his home.
Afraid to raise their hopes, and not knowing
if there would be room for them, Jo told them that
they were to have some very strong medicine that
could only be administered two hours after a dose
of hot milk and biscuit (the medicine was only

OUT PATIENTS 205
bovril). By this time Mrs. Berry arrived and
managed to squeeze the boys in.
However, we were told to clear the hospitals,
for the wounded were expected.
" What could be done with the scarlet fever boy ? "
At last an idea came: " The Mortuary," built by
the Horse Show Judge with such j oy . The mortuary
that we had all gone to admire as a work of art.
But the scarlet fever boy did not seem to see
it that way, for in the night he escaped, and we
have never seen him since.
Diphtheria was so prevalent that the Red Cross
on receiving a patient, gathered in the whole family
for a few days, inoculated, washed, and gargled it.
They also toured the villages around, digging out
typhus and other infectious cases, thus stopping
the spread of infection. They had a most energetic
matron, Miss Caldwell, who had already nursed
in Cettinje during the Balkan Wars, and we have
aheady told how she managed the Montenegrins.
Often the patients came in ox-carts. Too ill
to be hfted out, they had to be examined and
treated in the carts. Dr. Boyle acquired a special
nimbleness in jumping in and out of these con
trivances armed with stethescope, spoons, bowls,
and dressings. We accumulated a congregation of
" regulars," who came to be dressed every day —
gathered feet, suppurating glands, eczema, etc.

206 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
One old mother with a bad leg was bandaged
up with boracic ointment and told to come back
in two days. She came. Jo undid the bandage.
All the old lady's fleas had swarmed to the boracic
till it looked hke a fly-paper. After which we used
Vermigeh. All wore brightly woven belts, sometimes two
or three, each a yard and a half long, tightly
wound round their bodies, thus making their
waists wider than their hips. One girl was black
and blue with the pattern showing on her skin,
and many men were suffering from the evils of
tight lacing.
The village priest received belts as fees from
the peasants when he married them. He sent us a
message to say he had some for sale, so we went
in a body to his house,were received by his daughter,
who looked hke a cow-girl, turned over a basketful
of belts, and bought largely. After which he put
up the price.
Jo went on night duty for the first time.
A queer experience this, starting the day's work
at half-past seven in the evening and finishing at
seven in the morning — breakfasting when other
people are dining ; hearing their contented laughter
as they go off to bed ; and then a queer lonehness
and the ugly ticking of a clock. One creeps round
the big ward. What a noisy thing breathing is.

NIGHT DUTY 207
Some one groans, " Sestra, I cannot sleep." This
man has not been ordered morphia. Silence once
more broken only by the sound of the breathing,
distant howhng of dogs from the darkness or the
hoot of an owl. The old frostbite man coughs ;
he coughs again insistently. Both say " Yes " to
hot milk. So down to the big kitchen, some
mice scutter by, the puppy wakes up and thinks
it is time for a game. A woman's voice caUs
loudly, " Sestra." Taking the milk off, Sestra
hurries across the courtyard and along the corridor
to the httle rooms with the puppy tugging at her
skirt. The woman wants water ; she has wakened
the other women — they want water. When
silence again comes back into the ward, one notes
instinctively the vivid colouring of the two big blue
windows at the far end, the long hnes of beds
disappearing into the darkness, the dim hght of
the lantern on the table showing up the cheap clock
and a few flowers. The intensity of hght upon this
clock is only equalled by the intensity of one's
thoughts upon the clock. The minute-hand drags
on as though it were weary with the day's work.
A groan ticks off the quarters and cries for water
or milk the haU-hours. At last one o'clock. Time
for a midnight meal. Eggs and cocoa hurriedly
eaten without appetite in the kitchen, but breaking
the monotony. Back to the ward again, one of

208 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
the patients very restless, in great pain. Poor
fellow, he has had a long and hard time of it,
fifteen months in bed and all due to early neglect.
" Sestra," he says, " sestra," and holds out
a handkerchief heavy with coin. " Tell the doctor
to take me down to the operating-room and cure
me or not let me wake up."
Between four and five there is more movement
in the ward. Groans give way to yawns. In
the windows the blue is pahng to grey. Cocks are
crowing now quite close, now faintly, hke an echo.
Suddenly the world is filled with work, " washings,
brushings, combings, cleanings, temperatures,
breakfasts, medicines, some beds to make, reports,
all fitted together hke a jigsaw puzzle, until at
last the day-sisters come and reheve, and yawning
at the daylight one eats warmed-up dinner while
the others are having breakfast."
After a seven weeks' absence one was bound to
miss many old friends in the ward. Some had gone
home, others were back in the army. Old Number
13, the king of the ward, was still there. He
had a dark brown face and white hair, and was
furious if any dared to call him a gipsy.
" I am a respectable farmer," he said, " and
I own seventeen pigs, a horse, and five sheep, a
wife, and two children."
He loved to tell of his wedding. It was done

JOHN WILLIE 209
in the correct old Serbian style. He went with
his mother and a gun to the chosen one's house,
where she was waiting alone, her parents tactfully
keeping out of the way. They abducted the lady,
who was treated with great honour as a visitor in
her future father-in-law's house.
" Father " turned up next morning. Rakia
was served, and father divulged ceremoniously
how many pigs he could spare to them for keeping
his daughter.
Number 13 wanted to know everything: how
old was Jo, how much she was paid ?
" What, you are not paid ? " he said in amaze
ment. " Then the Enghsh are wonderful ! In
Serbia our women would not do that."
Poor httle John Wilhe still left a blank, though
he had died long before. His name was not John
Wilhe, but it sounded rather hke it, so we just
turned it into John Wilhe. He loved the name,
and told his father about it.
They sat all afternoon hand-in-hand, saying at
intervals, " Dgonn Oolie," and chuckhng.
Jan once had brought back from a spring visit
to Kragujevatz some horrible sun hats.
They were the cast-off eccentricities of the
fashions of six years ago, and had drifted from the
Rue de la Paix to this obscure Serbian shop which
was selling them as serious articles of clothing. Jo
p

210 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
tried them on, and one of the nurses became so
weak with laughter that she tumbled all the way
downstairs. Finding them quite impossible, Jo bequeathed
them to the ward, where they were snapped up
enthusiastically. The ughest was an immense sailor hat, the
crown nearly as wide as the brim, but the head hole
would have fitted a doll. However, John Wilhe
fancied that hat and was always to be seen, a tiny,
round-backed figure, wandering slowly in a long
blue dressing-gown, blue woolly boots, and the
enormous hat perched on the top of his pathetically
drooping head.
One day poor httle John Wilhe became fearfully
ill. His parents arrived and sat dumbly gazing
at him for two nights, while he panted his poor httle
life away. His friend the Vehka Dete (big child),
once a fierce comitaj, was moved away from the
" Malo Dete," to make more room, and he sulked,
while the Austrian prisoner orderhes ran to and
fro with water for his head, milk, all the things
that a poor httle dying boy might need ; and old
Number 13 passed to and fro shaking his head,
for he had been long in hospital and had seen
many people die.
A man with knees bent (he said with scrooghng
them up all winter in the cold) was put in John

OUR PRISONERS 211
Wilhe's place. The Vehka Dete came back, but
he would not speak to " Bent Knees " for weeks.
By this time the Austrian prisoners were very
weU trained and made excellent orderhes in the
ward. An ex-Carlton waiter was very dexterous
in sidhng down the ward : on his five fingers a
tray perched high, containing dressing-bowls and
pots bristling with forceps, scissors, and various
other instruments.
His chief talent lay in peppering frostbitten
toes with iodoform powder — a reminiscence of the
sugar castor.
Our housemaid was a leather tanner, whom
Jo's baby magpie mistook for its parent, as he fed
it at intervals every morning. A Czech in typhus
cloths spent his days down in the disinfecting,
operating and bathrooms. He had been an over
seer in a factory and had added to his income by
writing love-stories for the papers. A butcher was
instaUed in the kitchens. Once a week he became
an artist, killing a sheep according to the best
Prague ideals.
All our prisoners,' about forty in number, clung
to the Enghsh hospitals as their only chance of
hfe, for in other places sixty per cent, had died of
typhus. The Serbs, though bearing no animosity, could
do httle for them. We saw the quarters of some

212 MAINLY RETROSPECTIVE
men working on the road. These were show
quarters and supposed to be clean. Each room
had an outside door. On the floor was room for six
men and hay enough to stuff one pillow. They
had no rugs, and the Serbs could give them none.
The cold in the winter must have been intense.
We had come back to this httle world after
seven weeks' wandering, and almost immediately
Jan had gone off to Kragujevatz with a broken
motor. While he was away Jo got letters from England
and Paris, which made her reahze that things were
rather in a mess, and we should have to go home.
We had left England intending to stay in Serbia
three months, and had been then nearly nine.

)

*.

CHAPTER XV
SOME PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
October 2nd. Got a wire from Kragujevatz to
say that the motor hood is ready and that we must
go over to get it fitted. We cleaned and oiled the
car, and at two ran it down the hill, but it would
not start. Found two sparking plugs cracked and
the magneto very weak. When we had fixed it up
it was too late. Four a.m. to-morrow morning.
October 3rd. Started in the dark, Mr. Berry,
Sister Hammond, Sava, I, and a female relation
of some minister or other who wanted to go to
Krahevo. The motor working badly, as it is
impossible to get the proper spare parts. Three
young owls were sitting in the middle of the road
scared by our headhghts; we hit one, the other
two flew away. Sava and I stopped and tinkered
at the old machine for about an hour, changed all
the sparking plugs again, after which she went
better. We reached Krahevo without incident,
where we cast loose the female relation. From
Krahevo passed over the Morava, which was pretty
213

214 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
floody and had knocked the road about a bit. The
road led right through the Shumadia country,
where the first revolts of the Serbian nation against
their Turkish oppressors were engendered. We
passed the old Serbian churchyard. I never passed
by without going in. These queer old tombstones
all painted in days when pure decoration had a
rehgious appeal, these tattered red and white and
black banners lend such a gay air to death ; these
swords and pistols and medals carved into the
stone seem almost carrying a bombast to heaven.
On one side of each tombstone is the name of its
owner, preceded by the legend, " Here hes the slave
of God." Do slaves love their masters ?
When we passed this road in the winter, black
funeral flags hung from almost every hut, and even
now the rags still flap in the breeze. A Serbian
boy, clad in dirty cottons, shouted to us, making
gesticulations. We slowed down and stopped.
" Bombe," he cried. " Aeropla-ane. Pet," he
held up five fingers, " y jedan je bili slomile.
Vidite shrapnel."
He pointed. We saw a quiet, early autumn
landscape, the blue sky slightly flecked with thin
horizontal streaks of cloud. Any scene less warhke
could not have been imagined.
" Vidite tamo," he cried once more.
Straining our eyes one could just see, between

AEROPLANE BOMBS 215
the lowest strata of cloud, a series of small white
round clouds floating.
" Shrapnel," said Sava, pointing.
" They hit one," said Mr. Berry.
I let in the clutch, we sped on once more.
Bang ! a tire burst.
Motor driving in Serbia is not a profession, it is
an art. We were on another of these first-class
Serbian roads. Presently we came to a long down-
hiU. " That is the place," said Mr. Berry to Sister
Hammond, " where we spent the night last winter
when the motor stuck in the mud. There, beneath
that tree."
We shrugged our way down the hill, and pre
sently came into the gipsy environments of Kraguje
vatz. A man stopped us, holding up a hand.
" Bombe," he said.
We got out. In the soft earth at the side of the
road was a neat hole, four inches in diameter.
Peering down we could see the steel handle of the
unburst bomb. We next passed a smashed paling,
in the garden behind a crowd were searching for
rehcs. An old woman had been killed, they
said. We turned into the main street and
plunged into a large crowd. The pavement had
been torn up, and people were grubbing in the

216 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
mud ; pieces of charred wood were passed from
hand to hand.
" That's a bit of propeller," said one. " No ;
it's a bit of the frame," said another. A girl
proudly held up a large piece of map scorched all
round the edges.
" And the men ? " we asked.
" Nemachke (Germans)," answered the crowd ;
" both dead ; one here, one over there," pointing to
the middle of the road.
We came into the Stobarts' camp, pitched up
on the hill behind the Kragujevatz pleasure
ground. " Did you see the aeroplanes ? " they cried,
running towards us.
" No," we answered ; " but we saw the shrapnel."
" One was hit — it was wonderful. They were
flying just over here, and a shrapnel burst quite
close ; and then one saw a thin stream of smoke
come from the plane ; then a httle flicker. It
seemed to fall so slowly. Then it burst into flames
and came down hke a great comet."
" D — n ! " we said : " if only that machine had
been working right yesterday."
We took our car down to the arsenal, and I left
Sava to take it to bits and get it opened out, for
there had been a bit of a knock in the crank case.
The remains of the smashed aeroplane were piled

THE FALLEN AEROPLANE 217
in the yard, and from the way it had twisted up
without breaking one could see from what beautiful
metal the machinery was made. Some of the
French experts denied that the guns had hit it —
giving as their reason that one of its own bombs
had exploded. But one of the engineers put his
hand into a big hole which was beneath the crank
case and drew out a shrapnel ball. I thought that
would settle it, but the Frenchmen were not
convinced. The shells were bursting fifty metres
too low, they said. Fifteen bombs had fallen about
the arsenal, and one man, a non-commissioned
officer, had been kiUed.
Met Hardinge and Mawson : they both saw the
aeroplane fall, and were not fifty yards from the
place where it struck.
Walked back to the Stobarts' camp for lunch.
A French aeroplane had come over from Belgrade
too late ; now it rose slowly in the air and sailed off.
Saw the two dead aviators; both had evidently
been killed at once, for they were charred, not
bhstered. Colonel Phillips, ex-Governor of Scutari, and
Enghsh mihtary attache, came up with the Itahan
attache. A bomb had fallen just before the
colonel's house and missed his servant by a hair's-
breadth. The Itahan was in a room opposite the
Crown Prince's palace ; he thought that the falhng

218 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
machine was going to crash through the roof, but
it fell in the street not ten yards away. The
camp itseU was packing hard, for Mrs. Stobart
had just decided to form a " flying field ambu
lance." Mr. Berry and I had a tent assigned to us.
October 4th. Awoke to sounds hke some one
hitting a board with a maUet. Ran outside.
One found the aeroplane from the httle clouds of
shrapnel, for it was flying very high, and was like a
speck. Clouds of smoke were rolling from one
quarter of the town, and we thought that a big
fire was beginning, but it was extinguished. Another
aeroplane came later. The guns began long before
it could be seen. It dropped two bombs over the
powder factory, and two in the town. Mrs. Stobart
ordered everybody from the camp; but nobody
left except the patients, who were driven a mile out
and dumped in a wood. A long procession of
townsfolk filed continuously by, running from the
danger. The aeroplane dropped two more bombs
in the town, and came back flying right over the
camp. It was a queer feehng, staring right up at
the plane, and wondering if another bomb were not
falhng silently towards one.
I went down to the arsenal to see about the
car ; and Mr. Berry and Miss Hammond went off
to see the anti-aircraft guns. Mrs. Stobart had

THE RAID ON THE ARSENAL 219
asked me to go out on the Rudnik road to see a
car which had broken down, and had promised to
send a motor to fetch me. Before we could leave,
news was brought that another aeroplane had
been telephoned. Presently we could hear the
guns beginning. Hardinge turned up, and we looked
out for the machine. We saw the aeroplane coming
straight towards us ; everybody rushed for the
ceUars, but I wanted to stay outside for the last
moment. Hardinge was with me. Suddenly I
lost sight of the plane. I ran farther out to look
for it, and suddenly there was a report, and a
great column of smoke just outside the arsenal.
There was another behind the rifle shops, and
another behind the boiler sheds. Now the aero
plane was overhead. I heard a noise hke tearing
silk, and lay flat upon the ground shouting to
Hardinge —
" Lie flat, d— n you ! "
It seemed ages before it burst. Dust and bits
flew everywhere ; the windows aU sprang out into
the yard. I looked for Hardinge, but he was
unharmed. I had expected to be terrified, but I
was feehng so bothered about Hardinge that I
had no time to think about myseU.
We heard a shriU crying, " Oh— h ! oh— h ! "
I ran forward, crying to Hardinge, " A man's
hurt ! " He answered, " Is he ? " The dust was

220 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
so thick I could not see at first, but as it cleared I
found a workman lying on back and elbows, his
knees drawn up as though he were trussed ; his
head waved from side to side, and he was uttering
spasmodic cries. I said to him, " Where ? where ? "
and he placed a hand to his stomach.
The man had been struck just below the ribs
by a large piece of bomb, blood was welhng from
the wound, so I pushed his shirt into it, and ran
back to the office. Mrs. Stobart's car had been
brought by a lady and a youth named Boon, who
had both taken cover in the cellar ; so I dug up the
girl, whose name I have forgotten, as I hoped she
knew " first aid." Together we ran to the man,
leaving Boon to bring the ambulance. " Bandages,"
we demanded. " Haven't any," answered the
few Serbs who had gathered round ; " the first aid
house has been blown to pieces." We crammed our
handkerchiefs into the place, and a cotton-wool
arm pad which was brought, and we then took off
the man's own puttees and tied him up with them.
As we were doing this somebody cried —
" Aeroplanes returning."
Immediately every Serb and Austrian fled.
The girl, Hardinge, and I were left alone. It was
a false alarm. With the returning crowd came
a large man, who was weeping.
" Oh, my poor brother ! oh, my poor brother !

! ^ 1 1 «
¦¦<<

SJdfe. i

BEOKEN AEROPLANE IN THE ARSENAL AT KRAG.

WHERE THE " PLANE " FELL.

HOUSE NEAR THE AESENAL
DAMAGED BY BOMBS.

THE WOUNDED SERB 221
What have they done to thee ? Why should this
evil have befallen thee ? "
As we finished tying him up, Hardinge said,
" Is it any good lying down ? "
I answered, " If this poor chap had been lying
down he would not have been hurt."
There was no stretcher, so we hfted the wounded
man on a blanket into the ambulance, which Boon
had now brought. The girl and the brother chmbed
within. I took the steering wheel. Boon wound up
the engine, and swung alongside me. The driving
was a difficult problem. Whether to drive fast
and get to the hospital, or whether to go slow and
spare the wounded man as much pain as was
possible ? The road was awful : once it had been
laid with stone pavement, but many of the stones
were missing, and in so bad a condition was it that
although several bombs had fallen in the streets,
one could not distinguish the bomb craters from
the ordinary holes in the road. At last I decided
that as it was not a fracture I would go as quickly
as I dared. Above the clatter of the machinery I
could hear the weeping of the brother and the
intermittent cries of the wounded man, " Water,
water." " I think he's going," said the girl through the
curtains. At last we reached the hospital. We laid the

222 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
man on the ground and the doctors did all they
could. But it was useless, the piece of shell
had cut in directly beneath the heart. In ten
minutes he was dead. I turned to the brother
and laying both hands upon his shoulders
said— " Your poor brother was too badly hit. We
could not save him."
He stared at me for a moment, not under
standing. Then he turned and flung himseU
down upon the body, weeping more bitterly than
before. I went to the ambulance and took it back
to its place.
The aeroplane returning from the arsenal had
flung three gratuitous bombs at the camp itseU,
one had fallen in the Serbian hospital yard, and had
killed an Austrian prisoner ; one had faUen in the
top corner of the camp field, but had not exploded.
The third had missed, only by a httle, the room
in which the two dead German aeroplanists were
lying, had plunged into the Stobarts' storeroom,
and had burst in the last case of marmalade which
they possessed. It was an awful mess. Had it
fallen three yards to the left it would have killed
the chief cook, who was just on the other side of
the wall.
I went back to the arsenal. None of the bombs

RESULTS OF BOMBARDMENT 223
had struck any important part, almost all had fallen
in open places, though one had burst on the roof
of the woodshed, only a few yards from the petrol
store. Two cans of petrol had been punctured by
bits of sheU, and Austrian prisoners were hurriedly
pumping them out. Almost haU the work of the
arsenal was done by Austrian prisoners. Another
bomb had fallen in the horseshoe store, and inside
horseshoes were everywhere, some even sticking
in the beams hke great staples. I had no idea
before that the bombs had such force. Sava said
he had been standing in a doorway and a bomb
had exploded quite close, a piece had whizzed by
his nose and had torn down the name board over
his head. When he turned round to go on with
the work the aide had fled and never appeared
again. I met Dr. Churchin. He is one of the best
Serbs I have yet met, a philosopher. He was
looking after the Enghsh units in Kragujevatz and
I learnt did it excellently, and with a devotion to
his duties altogether unusual. He told me that I
had been nominated an honorary captain; but
I am under the impression that it is an honour
I cannot by national law accept.
We went in the afternoon in the car towards
Rudnik to examine the one which had broken
down. I soon saw that nothing could be done

224 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
on the spot, and ordered it to continue its
" bullocky " progress to the camp. In the evening
went off to the Government motor school, where I
found my old friend Ristich and Colonel Derrock ;
both these men are first-class Serbs — jolly, keen
and friendly.
October 5th. Our car not being finished, Mr.
Berry and Sister Hammond went back to Vrntze
in a car lent by Colonel Derrock. I was to stay
till all the repairs were completed on ours. There
was another scare of aeroplanes, and the whole
town emptied itself, families pouring by en route
for the country ; but the planes did not come. I
went down to the arsenal and got on with the
repairs. Dr. May lent me her camera and I got
some photos. Mrs. Stobart went off with her
" flying field force," taking with her nearly all the
men and almost all the cars: if the hospital get
many serious cases I imagined that they would be
dreadfully shorthanded.
In the night the two German aeroplanists were
buried without mihtary honours. The Serbs said
that they were assassins and deserved nothing.
Still, Kragujevatz is an arsenal.
October 6th. Another aeroplane scare ; town
emptied itseU once more. Dr. MacLaren and I
rushed off to the anti-aircraft guns, hoping to get
some photos; but nothing occurred. Got the

THE SEWAGE TANK 225
Rudnik car running by taking Mr. McBlack's
useless car to pieces. In the evening two sisters
went to Uskub. One of the sisters went to get
her bag, and I took what I thought to be a short
cut to help her. I passed between the tents, and
was striding along, when— Plop ! I found myself
swimming in a deep tank of water. The sister
heard me fall, and ran back to the camp crying
out — ¦
" Help, help ! The stranger is drowning in the
bath- water sewage tank."
I clambered out, and hastily fled to my tent,
where kindly souls brought me an indiarubber
bath and hot water. I also got some refugee
pyjamas, in which I wandered about for the rest
of the evening. My clothes were taken to the
kitchen and hung over the big stove.
October 7th. Went to the arsenal in borrowed
refugee clothes miles too large. Worried the car
tiU it worked. At lunch clothes dry. Got away
by three, Hardinge coming with us. Night came
on before we got home. Our car is a beastly
nuisance in the dark, the lamps, electric and worked
from the magneto, only giving hght when going
at fuU speed, which is impossible on these roads.
I was just boasting to Harding that I had never
run into anything except the owl, when I hit a
cow. Figures appeared cursing from the darkness ;
Q

226 PAGES FROM MR. GORDON'S DIARY
we cursed back for allowing the animal to stray;
other figures appeared cursing on our side. The
motor was pushed back, the cow got up and walked
off, and on we went. Found Jo on night shift.
Got some supper, fixed up a bed for Hardinge, and
so self to bed.

^TM

CHAPTER XVI
LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
Up till now Vrntze was undisturbed by the war ;
the fine ladies were walking the streets much as
usual, and were bringing pressure upon Gaschitch,
the commandant, to make us close one of our
hospitals, so that it might be reopened as a lodging-
house. The chemist and Jan had an amusing
conversation about the uncle of Nicholas I. It
seems he was a great poet.
" Sir," said the chemist, earnestly, " I can
assure you that he was one of the greatest poets
that ever has hved. Were Serbian a language as
universaUy spoken as is Enghsh, he would stand
beside Shakespeare in the world's estimation, if
not before. The depth of his philosophy, sir, it
is astounding and so deep. There are passages
in his poetry which I have studied for weeks on
end and never yet been able to understand."
The true explanation is that the great poet
translated an old work of German philosophy into
227

228 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
Serbian, and very likely did not understand all the
original himseU.
We got more letters urging us to return. Our
studios in Paris and all our work of the last eight
years seemed in danger of being sold up. So Jan
went once more to the Chief. He asked us to stay
until at least the first batch of wounded arrived,
for none of the others had had experience of the
receiving arrangements, and of the disinfecting.
We moved our beds and baggage to the school,
which Jo was to take over as a convalescent
hospital. By the way, one of our doctors had a queer
soothsaying experience. She was told that she
was one day going to a foreign country with an
S in the name. She would be quite safe in her
first job, but that she would be offered a post in a
large grey building from which if she accepted she
might not escape alive, but in any case would be
flying for her hfe, and that she and all her com
panions would suffer great hardships and sleep on
dirty straw in awful places. She was offered a
job at the Farmers' hospital in Belgrade. She
refused. It is a great grey building, and we now
heard that Belgrade was being violently bombarded
and all had to escape. Rumours came of great
German attacks on Shabatz and Obrenovatz.
The next day Serbian refugees arrived from

NEWS 229
Belgrade itself : they said that the town was in
flames and that fierce fighting was taking place in
the streets. Posheravatz was deserted, and a great
battle was raging about its outskirts. There were
reports that the King of Bulgaria had abdicated
and that the Germans at Chabatz had been defeated,
leaving 8000 prisoners in Serbian hands. Neuhat
came to Jan in great glee.
" We have captured a German major," he said,
" and he says that never was there a soldier hke
the Serb. He has fought Enghsh and French and
Russians, but he says our troops are the most
wonderful of all."
" JoUy sensible chap," said Jan. " I'd say the
same myseU if I was a prisoner."
Major Gaschitch told Dr. Berry that if the
Serbian army retreated we were to retreat with
them. Blease and Jan got hard at work putting
rope handles to the packing-cases and labelling
them for special purposes. One of our lady
doctors was valued in the morning. In the
outpatient department a question arose about
marriage. A Serb patient said —
" I can marry any time I hke. Pah ! In
Serbia one can get two maidens for twopence, and
three widows for a mariasch (\d.)."
Everybody was now running about with maps,
violently explaining the situation to everybody

230 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
else, and all explaining differently. Major
Gaschitch had fixed Novi Bazar as our probable
haven, and Mr. Berry borrowed our map to see if
there were a direct road over Gotch mountain, and
suggested that Jan might get a horse and ride
over to see. Alas, only a fourth-class road was
marked, and heaven knows what that may be hke :
lots of country and choose for yourseU probably.
A woman was brought in with what she said
was a bullet through the breast ; it occurred during
the celebration of the marriage ceremony, which
lasted a week. The girl was brought by her father,
the bridegroom having rushed off to the church to
pray. The wound looked very hke a dagger
thrust. The new slaughter-house was a fine erection.
The walls were almost finished and the roof was
being assembled. One of the Austrian prisoners
had discovered a talent for stone carving, and Miss
Dickenson was designing a frieze for the door and
on each side. There was a fine ceremony — while
we had been away — at the foundation, and Mr.
Berry made a speech in Serbian. The disinfector
had also arrived and was soon got into working
order. The news got better. The Austrians were now
driven out of Belgrade with immense slaughter,
the whole hne of the Danube and of the Save had

ARRIVAL OF THE ALLIES 231
been reoccupied by the Serbs. Blease and Jan
wondered if it were necessary to go on with the
rope handles. Our first wounded man arrived in
the evening, a non-commissioned officer, with a
shghtly wounded thumb. He had arrived by train,
asked in the town which was the most comfortable
hospital, and had walked up. We represented
that we weren't looking for thumbs, but had
to put him up for the night; this meant the
whole business of washing, shaving, and dis
infecting his clothes.
We heard that the French and Enghsh had
arrived in Nish, 70,000 men, and that they had
been greeted with the wildest enthusiasm; but
against that was set the fact that Belgrade after
all was not quite clear of Austrians, in fact, they
still held haU the town, but that the " Swobs "
were not getting on at Chabatz. " Swobs " in
Serbian are any of a Germanic country, while
in Austria it is a term of opprobrium, meaning
" German." One of our " Czech " orderhes said
to Jo, pathetically —
" I never thought that I should be called a
' Swob.' "
Next day came a warning that two hundred
wounded, serious cases, were to be expected, so
everything and everybody was in a rush. The
bathrooms to be cleaned, disinfecting-room and

232 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
bags to be got ready, wards cleared as much as
was possible.
The wounded did not come, and the next day
they did not come. The chemist said that all the
Austrians had been driven back, but that the
Bulgars had at last attacked. Mr. Berry thought
the news rather serious, and told us that Gaschitch
had said that we must be prepared to move at
twenty-four hours' notice ; so back we went to the
work on the boxes. Next day news was brought
that the Bulgars had drawn back, and had said
that the Serbs had attacked them first, that the
Powers had declared war on Bulgaria, and that the
Russians had bombarded Varna.
At last we got news that the wounded were
really coming. We hurried into our disinfecting
garments — looking hke pantaloons, — and scissors
were served out to all the assistants. It was
dark before the first motor load came.
The undressing-room was a large white-stone
floored room with four long plank beds covered
with mackintosh ; behind was the bathroom. The
first wounded man was pushed in through the
window on a stretcher, a brown crumpled heap of
misery, and groaning. We laid him carefully
on the bed while the doctor searched for the wound.
While she was examining him a second was handed
in. No need to examine this one. Bloody head

RECEIVING WOUNDED 233
bandage and great blue swollen eyehds told plainly
where his wound was. We stripped the clothes
as carefuUy as was possible from the poor fellows.
Those who were too bad to go to the bathroom
were washed where they lay. One orderly with
soap and razors shaved every hair from each ; and
several phed chppers on the matted heads. Outside
was one electric lamp which threw strong hghts
and darker shadows, making a veritable Rembrandt
of the scene, hghting up the white clad forms of the
assistants who were drawing out the stretchers, the
big square end of the ambulance car, and picking
out from the gloom of the garden a rose tree which
bore one white rose.
The wounded were indescribably dirty, and
their clothes in a shocking state, all stiff with blood.
Jo took charge of the clothes bags, seeing that no
man's clothes were mixed with any others. The
men all seemed dazed, each soldier seemed to have
the same protest upon his mind. " This wasn't
the idea at aU, I was not to be wounded. Why am
I here ? " One suddenly felt the brutal inanity
of modern warfare ; one felt that if the ones who
had started this war could only be forced to spend
three months in a war hospital, receiving and
undressing the fruits of their plots, they would
have a different view of the glory and honour of
battle.

234 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
Each man had sewn in his belt some tahsman
to protect him from danger — small brass or lead
image or medal, bought from the village priest.
There was confusion at first, for almost all
were new to their tasks ; the barbers were carrying
stretchers when they ought to have been barbering ;
the chppers were scrubbing instead of doing their
proper work ; but, nevertheless, it was mar-
veUously rapid. The motor tore back to the
station, and by the time it had returned its first
load had been washed, shaved, arrayed in clean
pyjamas, and either lay in bed in the ward, or were
waiting their turn outside the operating theatre.
Mr. Berry was hard at work : there were several
cases shot through the brain, one through the lungs,
one through the heart, and one through the spine ;
this latter was paralysed.
Some wounded came in carriages ; it was very
difficult to get them on to the stretchers without
giving them unnecessary pain, because of the
shape of the " fiacres." At last all were passed
through. Do not think us heartless if we rubbed our hands
and said, " Some very good cases, what ! " for
emotional pity can be separated from professional
pleasure, and if these things had to be we were
pleased that the serious ones had come to us ; had
not gone to a Serbian hospital.

CLOTHES 235
Next day we sorted clothes. Every uniform
had to be taken from its bag, tabulated, searched for
money or food, and repacked. They were swarming
with vermin, but we wore mackintosh overalls
which are supposed to be anathema to the beasties.
More operations. One of the men had been hit
in the cerebellum, and was quite bhnd. The boy
who had been hit in the lungs prayed for a cigarette
and an apple, he felt sure they would do him good.
We sorted more clothes. One of the men had a
pocket full of scissors — evidently regimental barber ;
another's pockets were crammed with onions; a
third had a haU-eaten apple, as though the fight
had surprised him in the middle of his dessert.
The cerebellum man wanted his purse. We could
not find it ; after exhaustive inquiry found that the
lung youth had stolen it. Another patient claimed
he had lost thirty-six francs ; so down we had to go
once more, search his package — the smelhest of
the lot — and at last found the money pinned into the
lining of his coat, also a watch. Jan took them back
to him, wound up the watch and set it. The
grateful owner said that the watch was an ornament,
but that he could not read it.
The French were never in Nish at all — all Ues ;
but Austrian aeroplanes had bombed it and killed
several people. The Bulgarian comitaj cut the
line at Vranja, but had been badly beaten in a

236 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
battle near Zaichar. The flight over Gotch de
generated into a joke, and Jo was commissioned to
do a caricature of it.
Suddenly a refugee turned up, the hostess of the
rest house in Nish. She was very worried about the
loss of her fifteen trunks, which she had had to
leave, and which contained all her family memen
toes and miniatures. She hoped that the scare
would only last a few days. The Bulgars had
occupied Veles though, which was bad news.
Another refugee lady from Belgrade came in.
More patients. Forty-nine for the " Merkur "
hospital. Lots of running about, but at last aU
were bedded.
A Serbian comitaj girl came in in the afternoon,
looking for a lady doctor. She was a fine upstand
ing creature with a strong, almost fierce, face.
There had been six of her, she said, but one had
been killed. The bombardment of Varna turned
out to be a lie, but they said that all the
Bulgars at Vrnja had been surrounded. Major
Gaschitch also said that if Serbia could hold out
till the 10th, something wonderful was going to
happen. Our visitors had rather a hard time. One of
them was trotting into the httle sitting-room of
the hospital. She opened the door and started
back aghast. There was a man within clad in

MORE WOUNDED 237
nothing but a large pair of moustaches. She
fled. Mr. Berry having nowhere to examine a
stray patient had occupied the room at an un
lucky moment. More wounded were expected,
so we got into our war paint, and they arrived
five hours later than we had expected them.
They came in " fiacres," and climbed off very
easily. We inquired, " Where wounded ? " " Bel
grade." " When ? " " Three months ago." Not
a serious case amongst them, and we had heard
that the badly equipped hospitals at Krusevatz
were crowded with the most frightful cases. We
were furious. A lot more wounded came to the
" State " cafe. None seriously hurt, and after
examination one man had no wound to show at
all, nor shock, nor anything. He had simply
run away. There were several hand cases, some
blackened with powder, proving that the poor
devils had shot themselves to get out of it. One
man would not have his hair cut because he said
that he was in mourning for his brother, and his
hat was decorated with a crown of black lace.
At the same time some serious cases came to the
main hospital ; one man seemed to have been shot
the whole length of his body, the bullet entering
at the shoulder and emerging behind the hip. A
small boy sat scratching. Jo said to him, " Why
dost thou scratch ? " He answered with a shout

238 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
of fatuous content, " I have lice, I have lice," and
scratched once more.
The disinfector was working overtime, clothes
were poured upon us from all the other hospitals.
Another alarm that wounded were coming, but they
never came. In their place an Enghsh clergyman
arrived from Krag. News came of the faU of
Uskub, and that Lady Paget had been captured
with all her staff. Next day the wounded came,
many more than had been expected. Jan got
rather strong signs of inflammatory rheumatism
threatening, so he went to bed for a couple of days
with sahcylate.
The Serbian authorities were beginning to lose
their heads. In the morning they said that the
" State " was to be made into a hospital for officers,
and chased all the patients out ; in the afternoon
they decided that it was not, and chased back the
patients — who had been divided amongst the other
hospitals. Thus they kept us busy and accom
phshed nothing. In the evening another batch of
wounded came in.
Nearly all the reports of the previous week were
now confessed to be hes. A Serbian minister had
been dying in the town, and the good stories were
made up to keep him cheerful. Now he was dead
the truth leaked out. The Austrians and Germans
were advancing on every side, the Serbs making

THE BEGINNING OF THE END 239
no resistance since Belgrade. The Bulgars had
occupied the whole of the hne south of Nish. The
French and Enghsh were advancing with extreme
difficulty. The Farmers' unit trailed into the town,
no conveyance having been arranged for them from
the station. The Scottish women were afieady
here, having come in the night ; they had to sleep
twelve or fifteen in a room. Next day a small
contingent of the wounded Alhes arrived.
Sir Ralph Paget arrived in a whirl. Leaders of
units appeared from all sides, and a hurried con
ference was held.
Mr. Berry caUed a meeting at two. He said
Paget had announced that the game was up ; that
all members of units should have the option of going
home, and that he (Paget) was going to Krahevo to
see about transports. Jan got to work on the map,
and decided that the best route out would be one
to Novi Bazar, and thence by tracks to Berane.
There were villages marked in the mountains which
did not seem so high as those by Ipek, also the road,
if there were one, would be at least two days shorter.
Sir Ralph came back next day, and knowing
that we had but lately returned from Montenegro,
he asked Jan a lot of questions about the road, etc.
Sir Ralph's latest decision was that all men of
mihtary age — not doctors — should attempt to
cross the mountains into Montenegro. He could

240 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
not say if any transport could be provided, or if
there would be any means of escaping from Monte
negro, and in consequence he advised no women to
move, as they would be better where they were,
than in facing the risks of the mountains ; they
would not be in the same danger as the orderhes, for
whom internment was to be expected. Dr. Holmes
decided to accompany us, as he said he wasn't
going to doctor Germans, and he might be useful
to the retreating Serbian army. Elhs also said
that he would come and would bring his car, which
would help us at least some of the way. Sir Ralph
asked Jan to take charge of the party of the
Enghsh Red Cross, and we went back to our rooms
to repack, for Jo had already arranged things for
internment. Mr. Blease decided to come with us.
Nobody knew what the dangers would be, or where
the Austrians and Germans were, and many doubted
if it were possible to get through. The season was
getting late, and snow was daily to be expected.
Some imaginative people enlarged on"the brigands"
and " wolves," but we did not think that they
counted for much. The chief problems were, U
we could get shelter each night, and could we carry
enough food to support us in case we could get
none, which seemed very possible.
We got an order from Gaschitch for bread from
the Serbian authorities. We were going off into

THE TRAIN 241
country, the real conditions of which nobody knew,
and our friends took leave of us, many expecting
to see us back in a few days. The Austrian
prisoners were very sad at our going.
The station was dark and gloomy, the httle
gimcrack Turkish kiosk — hke a bit of the White
City — was filled with Red Cross stoves and beds.
Two trains came in, but neither was for Krahevo ;
one was Red Cross and the other for Krusevatz.
A lot of boys, in uniform, clambered on board and
shouting out, " Sbogom Vrntze," were borne off
into the night. Our spirits fell lower and lower. We
thought of the friends we were leaving behind us,
and of what we had before us. The reaction had set
in, intensified by the gloom and cold of the station.
Hours later the train arrived. The only third-
class carriage was filled to overflowing, people were
standing on the platform and sitting on the steps.
We tried the trucks. AU were crammed so full
that the doors could not be opened.
" You'd better go to-morrow," said the station-
master. " We're not going through that a second time,"
we said. " Can't we chmb on to the roof ? "
We scrambled up. There were other men there,
lying in brown heaps. We made some of them move
up a httle, stowed our blankets and knapsacks, and
sat amongst them. R

242 LAST DAYS AT VRNTZE
" Are you all right ? " shouted the station-
master. " Yes."
" Good-bye, then. Lie down when you come to
the bridges, or you'll get your heads knocked off."
We lay down at once, taking no risks, not
knowing when the bridges were coming. Luckily
the wind was with us, and the night was warm.
The engine showered sparks into the air, which fell
httle hot touches on to our faces and hands. Later
a httle rain fell.
Krahevo at three a.m. We did not know the
town so Jo stormed the telegraph office. The
officials tried to shut the door, but she got her foot
into it.
" When I ask you a pohte question you might
answer it," she said.
" You can get shelter next door," said one
grumpily. We tried next door. It was crowded, and the
heat within was unbearable. We saw a door in the
opposite wall and opened it — back into the telegraph
office. There were people sleeping there already, so
without asking permission we dumped our baggage
and lay down on the floor. The officials said nothing.
After a while two French generals (or somethings)
came in. They were refused as we were, but they
took no notice, unpacked their blankets and lay

BEDFELLOWS

243

down under the great central table. With them
was a wife, she sat miserably on a chair. The room
got so stuffy when the door was shut that she
wished it opened ; the draught was so bad when the
door was open that she immediately wished it
shut. Unfortunately she got mixed : the Serbian
for open is very hke the word for shut, and she used
them reversed. There was much confusion. Just
as the officials were getting used to her inversions,
she corrected herseU. More confusion. An Enghsh
girl came in, pushed aside the papers on the big
table, and began to brew cocoa on a Primus stove
which she had brought with her. The officials
looked helplessly at each other. Jan recognized her
as one of the Stobart unit from Krag : she had got
astray from her band, but was now rejoining them.

CHAPTER XVII
KRALIEVO
We roused ourselves at seven a.m. A damp, chilly
fog was hanging low over the valley, it penetrated
to the skin, and one shuddered. The railway was
congested, but train arrived after train, open trucks
all packed with men whose breath rose in steam, and
whose clothes were sparkhng with the dew. We
stepped from the station door into a thick black
" pease puddingy " mud, as though the Thames
foreshore had been churned up by traffic. Standing
knee deep in the mud were weary oxen and horses
attached to carts of all descriptions, with wheels
whose rims, swollen by the mire, were sunk almost
to the axles. Across the mud, surrounded by
shaky red brick walls, the District Civil Hospital
showed pale in the morning, and we made towards
it, splashing. We came to the lodge: an Enghsh girl was
doing something to a kitchen stove. She stared
at us. " Hullo ! " 244

A DRESSING STATION 245
" We've just come from Vrnjatchka Banja,"
we explained.
She took Jo to the hospital, while Blease and
Jan dropped their heavy luggage and washed in a
basin, provided by a Serb servant girl. Jo did not
return. Jan went to the hospital to look for her.
Crowds of men were at the door, crowds in
ragged and filthy uniforms, with bandages on
arms, or foot, or brow, dirty stained bandages with
bloodstains upon them. Some of the men were
crouching on the ground, some were lying against
the house, fast asleep. Somehow we got through
them. The passage was full of men, and men were
asleep, festooned on the stone stairs. The smell
was horrible. Beyond a swinging glass door
Scottish women were hurrying to and fro bandaging
the men as they entered, and passing them out on
the other side of the building. The Serbs waited
with the stoicism of the Oriental, their long lean
faces drawn with hunger, pain and fatigue. Now
and again some man turned uneasily in his sleep
and groaned. A detachment of " Stobarts " had
found a lodging upstairs, in a bedroom with plank
beds ; amongst them we found some old friends.
Leaving them we went into the village to look
for a meal, back through the mud. Soldiers,
peasants, women, children, horse carts and bullock
waggons, all were pushing here and there, broken

246 KRALIEVO
down and deserted motor cars were standing in the
middle of the road. In the great round central
" Place " confusion was worse, animals, carts, and
refugee bivouacks being all squashed together on
the market place.
White-bearded officers with grey-green uniforms
were gesticulating to white-bearded civilians out
side the Cafe de Paris. A motor rushed up,
disgorged three men in Russian uniform and fled.
A small fat man vainly endeavouring to attract the
attention of a staff officer grasped him by the arm ;
the staff officer shook him off angrily. Soldiers
lounged against the walls and peered in through
the dirty windows. . . .
Within, the big dark room was crammed.
Opening the door was like turning a corner of chff
by the seashore. Almost all, at the tables, were
men : officers, tradesmen, clerks, talking in eager
tense words. We found three seats. Nobody had
anything to eat or drink. Three men came to the
table next to us. They exhibited two loaves of
bread to the others, and had the air of some one who
had done something very clever. We were famished.
Suddenly half the cafe rose and rushed to a small
counter almost hidden in the gloom of the far end.
Coffee can be got, said some one. Blease, who could
get out the easier, went to explore. In a short
while he wandered back saying that he had got a

THE RESTAURANT 247
waiter. A man came through selhng apples. We
bought some. At last the waiter came.
" Cafe au lait," said we.
" And bread," we added, as he turned away.
" Nema," he answered, looking back.
" Well eggs, then."
" Nema."
" What have you got ? "
" We have nothing but meat."
" No potatoes ? "
" No."
We got a sort of Serbian stew, the meat so tough
that one had to saw the morsels apart with a knife
and bolt them whole. As we were operating, a
soldier leaned up against our table, and stared at
our plates with a wistful longing. Jo caught his
eye. She scraped together all our leavings ; what
misery we could have reheved, had we had money
enough, in Serbia then.
We paid our biU with a ten dinar (franc) note.
The waiter fingered it a moment.
" Haven't you any money ? " he asked.
" That is money."
" Silver, I mean."
" No."
He hesitated a moment. Then went away,
turning the note over in his hands. After a while
he returned and gave us our change.

248 KRALIEVO
The day passed in a queer sort of daze of doing
things ; between one act and another there was no
definite sequence. The town itseU was in a sort
of suppressed twitter, everybody's movements
seemed exaggerated, the eager ones moved faster,
impelled by a sort of fear; the slow ones went
slower, their feet dragging in a kind of despondency.
At one time we found ourselves clambering up some
steps to the mayor's office, in search of bread. By
a window on the far side of the room was a man
with a pale face, eyes red-rimmed from lack of
sleep, and hght hair : Churchin. We ran to him.
" What are you doing here ? " he said gloomily.
We explained.
" I don't think you can get any transport," he
said ; " but later I'll see if I can do anything."
We thanked him. " But transport or no
transport, we are going." Jan showed him the
bread order. He read it and pointed to the
Nachanhk. The Nachanhk read our order, scowled and
passed it on to another man, an officer. The officer
read the order, looked us sulkily from head to foot,
then he pushed the paper back to us.
" We have only bread for soldiers."
" But — we are an Enghsh Mission."
" Only for soldiers here. We have nothing to
do with Enghsh Missions."

BREAD 249
Fearing that we had come to the wrong place
we retired.
At another time we were chmbing up back
stairs to what had been the temporary lodgings
of the Enghsh legation. But it was empty and
deserted ; Sir Ralph Paget had not yet come.
There were bread shops, but they were all shut
and guarded by soldiers. Jan saw some bread in a
window. He went into the dirty cafe, which was
crowded with soldiers, some sitting on the floor and
some on the tables.
" Whose bread ? " asked he.
" Ours."
" WiU you seU me a loaf % "
" We won't sell a crumb."
We bought some apples from a man with a
Roman lever balance, and chewed them as we
went along.
At the hospital the " Stobarts " were packing
up. A motor was coming for them in the after
noon. We heard that Dr. May and the Krag
people were at Studenitza, an old monastery, half
way along the road to Rashka. On the flat fields
behind the station were another gang of " Stobarts,"
the dispensary from Lapovo. One Miss H  was
in trouble, for thieves had pushed their arms beneath
the tent flaps in the night and had captured her
best boots.

250 KRALIEVO
" There are cases full of boots on the railway,"
said some one, consoling.
" But those are men's boots," said another.
Part of the morning we spent sitting on the banks
of the Ebar River and watching the bridge, wonder
ing if EUis would come with his car. Ten times
we thought we could see it, and each time were
deceived. The French aeroplanes came in. They hovered
over the town seeking a flat place, finally swooping
down on to the marshy plain on which the
" Stobarts " were encamped. They landed, dash
ing through the shallow puddles and flinging the
water in great showers on every side. As each
landed it wheeled into hne and was pegged down.
Behind them was a hne of cannons, the Serbian
engineers were hard at work, smashing off their
sighting apparatus, destroying the breech blocks,
and jagging the rifling with cold chisels. Some
of the cannon were Turkish. All the morning,
through the noise of the town, the shouting of the
bullock drivers, the pant of the motor cars, and
the steady tap, tap of the engineers' maUets, came
the faint booming of the battle at Mladnovatch,
not fifteen miles away.
After lunch we went again to the cafe. Again
it was full, and we were forced to wait for a table.
Just as we sat down a woman with a drawn, anxious

FUGITIVES 251
face came up to us, clutched Jo by the arm and
said eagerly —
" Is it true that you are going to Montenegro ? "
' Yes," answered Jo. "If we can get there."
" Could you give me only a httle advice,
madame ? You see we do not know what to do. My
husband — he is an old man, and he is an Austro-
Serb. If the enemy catch him they will hang him."
" I'm afraid he wiU have to walk," said Jo.
" But he is so old," said the woman, with tears
in her eyes ; " he is fifty."
' We ourselves wiU have to walk," said Jo.
" Make him a knapsack for his food. Give him
warm clothes. It is his only chance of safety.
And," she added, " the sooner he gets away the
better, for in a httle all the food on the road will
be eaten up, and one will starve."
The woman thanked us. " I will make him go
at once," she said, and ran out wringing her hands.
A Russian woman with a thin-faced man sat at
her table.
" You are going to Montenegro ? " she said.
We nodded.
" I too am going. I am a good sportswoman.
I have walked fifty kilometres in one day."
We looked at her well-corseted figure, her
rather congested face, and had aheady seen thin
high-heeled shoes.

252 KRALIEVO
" I will come with you, yes ? "
The httle man interrupted. " Why do you say
such things, Olga ? You know that you cannot
walk a mile."
We pointed out that we were going to march
across the Austrian front, and that no one could
tell us where the Austrians were exactly ; that our
safety depended to some extent on our speed, and
that the failure of one to make the pace meant the
failure of aU. The httle man drew her away.
In the afternoon a miserable fit of depression
took us, but we pushed it behind us. To the hospital
for tea, taking with us a tin of cocoa and some
condensed milk, which the people lacked. Biscuits
and treacle, the treacle looted from the railway,
where an obhging guard had said that he could not
give permission to take it, but that he could look
the other way. We heard the tale of Kragujevatz,
of the camp and all the buildings filled to over
flowing. More aeroplane raids ; and of the sudden
order to evacuate. AU the wounded who could
crawl were got from their beds and turned into the
street by the authorities to go : if they could not
walk, to crawl. A few Serb and Austrian doctors
were left to guard and watch those too ill to go ;
with them some Swedish and Dutch sisters, and
the Netherlands flag flying from the hospitals.
Dr. Churchin seemed to have been the good genius

BREAD 253
of the Missions, never flagging in his efforts for
them. We heard that a Colonel Milhaelovitch was the
bread officer. He hved somewhere in the back of
the big yeUow schoolhouse at the end of the street.
After tea we wandered drearily down to seek him,
gained permission from a sentry, and clambered
up some stone stairs. Jan saw an acquaintance
from the Nish ministry, asked him a question, and
was ushered . . . straight into the Ministry of
War. They seemed in a frightful stew about
something, an air of disorder reigned everywhere,
but somebody found time to look at the order.
" Nachanhk," said he.
" We've been there already."
" Well, go there again and say we sent you, and
that they must give you bread."
We were worn out by this. Jo went off to the
plank bed which the Stobarts had promised to her,
while Jan and Blease to the tents, where Sir
Ralph's men were sheltering.
AU the streets were edged with motionless
buUock carts, in which men were sleeping, and
even in the mud between their wheels were the
dim forms of the weary soldiery. The two splashed
across the marsh and found the tents.
Rogerson and WiUett were there; Willett was
seedy. Another Enghshman named Hamilton,

254 KRALIEVO
who had an umbrella which he had sworn to take
back with him to England. Also two Austro-Serb
boys who had been acting as interpreters.
West and Mawson were not there. Rogerson
said that Sir Ralph had sent them with Mrs. M 
to see the road and conditions at Mitrovitza;
nobody knew when they would be back. We got
two beds, but there were no mattresses on the
springs. Jan roUed up in his Serbian rug, but it
was loosely woven, and not as warm as he had
hoped. Just not warm enough, one only dozed.
About eleven o'clock, Cutting came in with Owen,
Watmough, Hilder, and Elmer. They had come
from Vrnjatchka Banja with Dr. Holmes. Some
one had told them that we had deserted them and
had gone off to Rashka on our own ; they were
cheered to find us still there. After that we lay
awake discussing details. None of them had reahzed
the difficulties of the road and the probable lack
of food, though the Red Cross men had brought with
them a case of emergency rations. Jan exposed
his idea of the route ; somebody said that there
was some corned beef and rice in a Red Cross
train on the siding.
Intermittently in the silences one could stiU
hear the sound of the guns.
Next morning at breakfast Dr. Holmes came in.
He had thought us gone, and so had procured for

LOOTING THE RAILWAY 255
himseU and the sister who was with him, seats
in a Government motor which was going to Mitro
vitza. We aU splashed across the marshy grass
to the siding where the stores were. In the empty
trucks on the hne famihes were camping, and some
had fitted them up hke httle homes. We found
the truck, and with efforts dug out twelve tins of
corned beef, a case of condensed milk, one of
treacle, and two tins of sugar. We emptied a
kitbag and filled it with rice.
The hospital was fuller than ever. The Scottish
nurses were toihng as quickly as they could, and
each man received a couple of hard ship's biscuits
from a great sack, when his wounds were dressed.
He immediately woUed the hard biscuits and lay
down ; in one minute he was asleep, and the
hospital grounds were strewn with the sleeping
men. From time to time sergeants came in,
roused the sleepers, formed them into detach
ments, and marched them off.
The Stobarts met us wringing their hands.
There was no bread, nor could they procure any.
Jan took their order, and we promised to see what
could be done. As we passed the station we saw
surging crowds of men, from the midst came cries
of pain, and sticks were falhng in blows.
" Good Lord, what's that ? " we cried.
We plunged into the crowd. Some of the men

256 KRALIEVO
and boys were gnawing angrily at pieces of biscuit
which they held in their hands. The crowd surged
more violently, the sticks were plied with greater
vigour; presently the crowd fell back snarhng.
The ground which they left was covered with
the crumbs of trampled biscuit, and the soldiers
drove the crowd yet further back, beating with
sticks and cursing. A bread sack being unloaded
from a waggon had burst, the hungry crowd had
pounced . . . that was all. As we withdrew we
saw the fortunate ones still gnawing ferociously at
the hard morsels which they had captured.
We took our passes to the mayor once more.
He received us angrily.
" I told you yesterday," he said.
" The War Office sent us," said Jan, sweetly,
" and said that you must give us bread."
" I have no bread," said the mayor. " You
must go to Colonel Milhaelovitch."
We tramped back to the yeUow school. There
was no sentry, and a queer air of f orlornness seemed
to pervade. We asked a loiterer for the colonel's
office. He pointed. We chmbed yet another
stair and found a pair of large rooms ; they were
empty. Town papers were scattered on the floor,
one table was overturned.
A man lounged in. " Where is the colonel ? "
we asked.

BREAD 257
" Ne snam bogami," he said, twisting a
cigarette. " Well, find out," said Jan.
He lounged away and presently returned with
another. " The colonel has evacuated," said the other ;
" he went naturaUy with the Ministry of War to
Rashka last night."
We went back in a fury to the mayor.
" You knew this," we cried angrily to him.
He shrugged his shoulders.
" Where can we get bread ? "
He took up the passes and looked at them.
His face hghtened.
" This one," he said, turning to another, " is
written — Give them bread to the value of three
francs. We will give them three francs."
" No you won't," said we ; " you'll give us
bread. You cannot leave these Enghsh sisters to
starve." After some grumbhng he said we could inquire
at the " first army." We made him write out an
order ; we also made him give us a clerk to accom
pany us. He gave us a tattered old man whose
toes were sticking from his boots.
We presented both orders at the " first army."
It refused at once. We threatened it with the
War Office and with the mayor. After some
s

258 KRALIEVO
demur it sent us across the town again to the
" magazine " office.
At the magazine office we were more wily. We
presented our httle order for three humble loaves.
He first said " Nema," then admitted that there
was bread and that we could have it. We then
showed the order for the other loaves.
" No, no," he cried, " you cannot have aU that
bread." We pointed out that it was not much for a whole
mission. He still refused. So Jo got up and made a
httle speech. It was a nasty httle speech, but they
deserved it, for we had found that they had bread.
She pointed out that the Enghsh Missions had
now been working in Serbia for a year, gratis ;
that no matter if we got no transport we were
going to get to England, and that it would not look
well in the Enghsh papers if we wrote a true
account of our experiences, saying that they had
allowed the Enghsh Missions to starve. The threat
of pubhcity finished him. He grumbhng consented
to give us ten loaves in addition to our own to last
for two days. Not daring to leave them, and to send
an orderly for them, we rolled them up in Jo's over
coat and staggered down the road to the hospital.
On the way we met an old Serbian peasant
woman. She walked for a while with us, turning
her eyes to heaven and crying —

THE STOLEN MOTOR 259
' What times we hve in. Only God can help,
only God."
At the hospital we met Sir Ralph Paget. He
told us that the Transport Board had promised
him ten ox carts for the morrow. Two large
motor lorries had turned up to take the two con
tingents of the " Stobarts." They were packing in,
and we asked them to take our holdall as far as
Rashka, for we were still distrustful of the ox carts.
We had begun to get into a habit of not believing
in anything till it was actually there.
An Enghshman came suddenly in with a face
purple with anger and swearing. He was the
dispenser from Krag who had been left at Lapovo to
bring on the stores.
" What's the matter ? " we cried.
" Brought my motor from Lapovo with the
hospital stuff," he said furiously. " Left it out
there on the road. Came in here to tell you about
it ; and when I go back the cussed thing isn't there.
Found all the stores in a beastly bullock cart.
The people said that a Serb officer had come along,
turned aU our stuff out, and gone off with the motor.
* * * * "
There was nothing to be done, so we went on
packing. An aeroplane was seen in the distance ;
everybody watched it.
" Taube," said somebody.

260 KRALIEVO
The Taube sailed slowly round, surveying the
town. It passed right overhead. Everybody
stared upwards wondering if it were going to
" bomb," for we were just opposite to the railway
station. But it passed over and flew away. As
it went guns fired at it, and many of the Serbs
let off their rifles. We have often wondered where
all the bits of the shells go to, for nobody ever
seems to be hit by them, even when they are burst
ing right overhead.
The motor gave several snorts, everybody
chmbed aboard. The driver let in the clutch,
there was a tearing sound from underneath, but
the motor did not go. One of the drivers clambered
down, and after examination said that it could not
go on that day, and they immediately began to
take it to pieces. The aeroplane came back twice,
sailing to and fro without hindrance.
It is impossible to describe properly the feehng
in the town : it was hke standing in the influence of
high-pressure electricity, even in the daytime the
soldiers in their rags — but with barbarously coloured
rugs and knapsacks — were sleeping in the hedges
and gutters. There were vague rumours that
Rumania and Greece had finaUy joined in ; many
seized upon these statements as being true, and
one found httle oases of rejoicings amongst the
almost universal pessimism. We ourselves doubted

PEASANT WOMEN LEAVING THEIR VILLAGE.

SEEB FAMILY BY THE ROADSIDE.

RETURN OF WEST AND MAWSON 261
the reports. Sir Ralph's ox carts — in an interview
with Churchin — dwindled down to a possible two ;
but Jan got a letter in the evening saying that there
were ten country carts for the next morning. Six
were for us and four for the " Stobarts," and that
we were to take the Indian tents with us.
We went back to the tents early to get a good
start next day. Rogerson and Willett were sorting
their clothes. Hamilton had decided, as he could
not walk, to go back to Vrntze with the Red Cross
stores which Paget was sending to the hospital.
As we were turning in, Dr. Holmes arrived. He
had not got the seat in the motor, but was going
next day. Later two mud-bespattered figures
came in. They were West and Mawson.
We questioned them eagerly, and although they
were worn out they answered all they could.
The road was passable. They had scarcely
slept for four days. Mitrovitza was already
crammed with fugitives, and rooms were not to be
found. On the way back the motor was working
badly ; the mud was awful. Then the petrol ran
out. They stopped a big car which was loaded
with petrol and ammunition, and asked for some.
They got a httle, and as they were going to start
the big car suddenly burst into flames : some fool
having struck a match to see if the petrol was
properly turned off. Great flames roared up

262 KRALIEVO
into the air, and it was a long time before the car
was sufficiently burnt down to pass it.
West said that it was a most marvellous picture.
A httle farther on a tyre had burst, and they
had been forced to come back on the rims. They
eagerly welcomed Jan's idea of the Novi Bazar
route, feehng sure that if they once got to Mitrovitza
it would be long before they got away, and very
doubtful if they could get lodging there.
Again we could hear the guns in the night, and
news had come in that Krag had been occupied and
that the German cavalry were making towards
Krahevo.

CHAPTER XVIII
THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
The men were up before three-thirty to strike the
tents, having slept but fittle. Breakfast was pre
pared and waiting at five-thirty in the big hospital
bedroom ; but the women ate of it alone.
Jo salhed forth to the camp, anxious to
know what had happened. She found a testy
httle company. For two hours they had been
struggling in the dark with tents and waiting
for the carts and for a pohceman, as all the riff
raff of the town was gathering to loot our leavings.
At last the carts were run to earth standing
outside the hospital in a hne — ten httle springless
carts in charge of a stupid-looking corporal who
had misunderstood his orders. He moreover
refused to move, saying he " had his orders."
The indefatigable Churchin was found, and sent
him off with a flea in his ear. When he arrived
at the camp we found a woman and household
luggage in one of the carts. He said it was his
wife, and objected to our putting anything into
263

264 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
that cart. We told him he would have to lump it,
and he got sulky ; as each extra package was put
on a cart he said that it would break to pieces.
Certainly the tents were very heavy, but we had been
ordered to take them. When the carts were loaded
up to the last degree they moved slowly through
the mud and drew up at the hospital. We were
sadly overladen. Our party consisted of Mawson,
West, Cutting, Rogerson, Willett, Blease, Angelo,
Whatmough, Elmer, Owen, and Hilder — the last
four being our friends of the railway journey from
Nish. We were thirteen. Temporarily with us
also were the two httle Austro-Serbian boys. The
other four carriages were occupied by a doctor and
three members of the Stobart unit, two " Scottish
Women," their orderly and a Russian medical
student who had been a pohtical prisoner.
Leaving the town was a slow business, as it
was being evacuated. Our httle procession pro
ceeded very slowly. Most of us walked. Jo drove
with two of the Stobarts, watching from a seat of
vantage the packed masses of people who wormed
their way in and out between the ox carts. The
road was blocked by some gigantic baking ovens
on wheels. Hundreds of boys, big seventeen-year-
old boys with guns, and httle hmping fellows from
thirteen to sixteen, wearing bright rugs roUed
over their shoulders, were dragging along in single

LEAVING KRALIEVO 265
file. Their faces were white, and their noses red,
sergeants were beating the backward ones along
with a ramrod. One of them said —
" I have eaten nothing for three days — give me
bread." We had no bread, but we discovered
some Petit-Beurre biscuits, and left him turning
them over and over.
The whole town buzzed : motor cars, surrounded
by curses, insinuated their way through the
crammed streets; whips were cracking, men were
quarrelling but all had their faces turned towards
the road to Rashka, which we reahzed would
be as full as at straphanging time in the Tube.
The boys passed us, then we passed them. They
passed us again. Hundreds of Austrian prisoners
were being hurried along, goodness knows where.
Neat young clerks, suit case in hand, elbowed their
way through the crowd. Young staff officers were
walking, jostled by beggars. Jo called to an old
man who was driving a cart full of modern furniture,
his face drawn into wrinkles of misery —
" Where are you going ? "
" Ne snam," he answered, staring hopelessly
before him.
Wounded men were everywhere, tottering and
hobbhng along, for none wanted to be taken
prisoners. Some had ship's biscuit, which they
tried to soften in the dirty ditch water, others

266 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
were lapping hke dogs out of the puddles. Some
times a motor far ahead stuck in the mud, and we
had to wait often haU an hour until it could be
induced to move. Gipsies passed, better mounted
and worse clad than other folk, some of them half
naked. Many soldiers had walked through their
opankies and their feet were bound up with rag.
Why in this country of awful mud has the opankie
been invented ? It is a sole turned up at the edges
and held on by a series of straps and plaited orna
mentations useless in mud or wet, which penetrates
through it in all directions.
We arrived at an open space and halted for
lunch. Water had to be fetched. It trickled
from a wooden spout out of the hiU and before our
cooking pot was filled we were surrounded by
thirsty soldiers, who were consigning us to the
hottest of places for our slowness. Cutting dis
played a hitherto buried talent for building fires.
We unpacked the food and soon a gorgeous curry
was bubbhng in an empty biscuit tin with Angelo,
Sir Ralph Paget's chef, at the spoon. A leviathan
motor car lurched by containing all that was left
of the Stobart unit. Another monster passed,
piled with Russian nurses and doctors. A face
was peeping out at the back, eyes rolled upwards,
moustaches bristling. Was it? Yes, it was— -
" Quel Pays " — but he did not recognize us.

THE FLIGHT OF SEEBIA.

AUTUMN 267
The baking ovens appeared again, and we
felt we had stayed long enough. Some of our
party were very fagged after their various ad
ventures since leaving Nish, so they chmbed on
to the carriages wherever there was a downhill.
The road wound up a narrow stony valley down
which was flowing a muddy stream. The trees
on our side of the river were still green, on the other
bank they were bright orange, blood red and all
the tints of a Serbian autumn. The road full of
moving people was hke another river, flowing only
more sluggishly then the Ebar itseU. For us in
future, the autumn will always hold a sinister
aspect. These trees seemed to have put on their
gayest robes to mock at the dreary processions.
At intervals by the roadside sat an ox dead beat
and forsaken by its owner as useless.
Dusk came, bringing depression ; the travellers
on the curly road looked hke mere shades. Coat
collars went up and hands were pocketed. Little
camp fires began to twinkle here and there on the
hiUsides. We came to a large open space where
many fires blazed, respectfully encircling a French
aeroplane section. Opposite was a high peak topped
by a Turkish castle. There we wished to halt, but
the corporal said we must push on, as he wished
to get food for the horses. After we had passed
the castle the dusk grew rapidly darker and the

268 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
road narrower and more muddy. Although camp
fires twinkled from every level space, the never
ending stream of fugitives seemed to grow no less.
Darkness only added to the tragic mystery of the
flight. The bullock carts poured along, the soldiers
crowded by.
A horse went down, the owner stripped the
saddle off, flung it into a cart and cursing stumbled
on into the darkness. The carts following took
no notice of the poor horse but drove over it, the
wheel hfting as they rolled across its body. We
shouted to the owner; but he was gone, so we
turned one or two of the carts off, and made them
go round. But we could not stay there aU night.
The horse was too done, and too much injured by
the cruel passage to move, so Jan reluctantly puUed
out his " automatic " and, standing clear of its
hoofs, put two bullets through its brain. It
shuddered, hfted two hoofs and beat the air and
sank into a heap.
On we went progressing for mile after mile in the
mire, but never a house did we see, nor a spot to
camp on. At last the corporal gave up the quest
for hay, and we were faced with the problem of
spending the night on a narrow road bounded
on one side by chffs beneath which ran the Ebar,
and on the other by an almost perpendicular bank.
The night was black, the mud a foot deep, and a

NIGHT ON THE ROAD 269
stream ran across the road. The carriages drew
up in single file and we discussed the sleeping
problem, while Cutting cooked bovril on an ill-
behaved Primus stove. Our drivers had to sleep
on the carts. The women also had carts to sleep
in; and the Scottish women offered Jo a place in
their already weU-fiUed carriage. The men were
fitted somehow into the rest of the carts, while
Jo, Jan, and Blease found a ledge below the road,
and though it was very squelchy, they spread a
mackintosh sheet and rolled up on it in their
rugs. No sooner were they really settled and sleeping
than a voice said, " You'll have to get up : an
officer says the carriages must move on — the King
is coming." It was West. We sat up. Between
us and the dim hghts of the carts the black shadows
of the crowds passed without end.
" I'll go and talk to them," said Jo ; and unrolled
herseU, struggled and fumbled with her boots and
floundered into the blackness, where a mounted
officer was dehvering orders. Shouts could be
heard, hghts waved, horses whinnied, splashing
their feet in the puddles as they were being violently
puUed here and there, and our poor httle carts
were moving ahead into obscurity. Jo told him
they were a Red Cross party — that the carts
were small, and couldn't they stay where they

270 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
were ? The officer inspected the poor httle carts,
made his best bow, and said, " Yes, they can
stay." But the corporal did not hsten to Jo's orders.
He belonged to a country which rates women and
cattle together, and the carts moved relentlessly
on. With difficulty Jo found the ledge again on
which Jan was sitting with the rugs, talking to
the scenery in a manner which was not pretty.
Blease came up, and the three of us shouldered
the things and stumbled off to find the vanished
carriages, which were half a mile down the road.
Jan flung his baggage on to somebody and soundly
boxed the corporal's ears, calhng him a " gloop."
Instantly the corporal felt that " here was a man
he could really understand," and from that moment
became a devoted adherent, studying our shghtest
whim, and at intervals humbly laying walnuts
before us.
A man came up to Jan.
" I beheve that man is drunk," said he ; "I
said that your carts might stand."
" Who are you ? " said Jan.
" I was once the conductor of the Crown Prince's
orchestra," he said ; " now I am traffic superinten
dent. It is difficult. I had a horse, a joUy httle
brown horse, but he gave out and I had to leave him
behind on the road." There were tears in the

THE CONDUCTOR 271
man's voice. " He was a good horse, but it was
too hard for him. Now I have to walk."
" I shot your horse," said Jan. " They were
driving over its body."
" He was a nice horse," said the man again,
" a nice horse, and now I have to walk. Well,
good-bye, you can rest here."
He splashed away in the mud.
Our new sleeping place was worse : the mud was
deeper, the road narrower. Jo tried to escape
the mud and made for the roadside, but the ground
moved under her and some muttered curses
arose. She was walking not on grass but on crowds
of sleeping boys, and very nearly trod on a face.
We settled down again on our mackintosh sheet
but did not sleep. Some soldiers were firing off
guns and throwing bombs into the river all night.
Near us lay Owen, who coughed for a couple of
hours, after which he gave up the spot as being
too wet, and lay in a cart on Whatmough's face.
It rained, Jo had the fidgets, and Jan expostu
lated. The mackintosh was too small for us and
we got gloriously wet. It is a curious feehng —
the rain pattering on one's face when trying to
sleep. By the time one becomes accustomed to
the monotony of the tiny drops — splash a big drop
from a tree. Water collects in folds of hat or
rug, and suddenly cascades down one's neck.

272 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
At four in the morning the corporal crept up
submissively to ask if we might move on, as the
horses were cold and hungry. Only too glad,
dark as it was, we rolled up our damp bundles and
put them in the waggons with the sleeping people,
who awoke, pink-eyed and puzzled at the sudden
progress forward of their uncomfortable beds.
Whatmough, who was convinced that the bombs
and gunshots of the night before were spent
Austrian shells sailing over the bill, said —
" That's the first time I've ever liked a fellow
sleeping on my face."
One of the Stobart nurses, who had used the
remains of the hay as a pillow, had been awake all
night trying to prevent a hungry horse from eating
her hair along with the hay. With determination she
had donned a Balaklava helmet and trudged along
all day in it, even later when the sun came out.
Blease, too, started the chiUsome dawn in a Bala
klava wearing shawlwise a rug that had been made
of bits of various coloured wooUen scarfs. Jan
used as a protection from the rain Jo's white
mackintosh apron fiUeted round his head with a
bit of string and danghng behind with a profusion
of tapes and fasteners.
Under his khaki great-coat and about a foot
longer he wore a white jaconet hospital coat. Jo
had a pair of roomy ski boots into which she had

SUPERINTENDING TRAFFIC 278
fitted two pairs of stockings ; one had been knitted
for her by a Serbian girl, and they were so thick and
hard that no suspender would hold them up, so
they stood, concertinawise, over the boots. One
of our drivers, a witch-faced old man, had a dark
red cloak with a peaked hood; and West having
lost his hat had donned a Serbian soldier's cap,
which he was taking away as a curiosity. His
arm was giving him pain. It was very red and
inflamed and no one knew what was the matter
with it.
We traveUed for an hour or so, and then every
thing on the road came to a standstill— something
was in the way. HaU an hour passed, nothing was
done. Several miles of drivers were talking,
gesticulating, and blaspheming; so Jan took on
the job of traffic superintendent, and after a time,
with a httle backing here and twisting there, the
problem was solved and we moved on. Still no
hay stations could be found, and we were also
hungry, having had no breakfast. We passed a
mound covered with thousands of Austrian prisoners
waking up in the twilight. Another hill was black
with boys. StiU no station. Then we saw some
haystacks being taken to pieces by various drivers.
Our ten coachmen ran to the stacks and came back
with loads of hay which they packed in the carts.
In five minutes the haystacks existed no more. T

274 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
" Better not leave that good hay for the
Swobs," said the corporal, as he whipped up the
horses. We passed a dressing-station. It was a
sort of laager of ox carts over which flew the red
cross. Wounded soldiers were sitting and lying
on the grass everywhere, while doctors and
nurses were hurrying to and fro with bandages
and hnt.
Water was difficult to find. At last we stopped
at the top of a hill in a furious wind. The water
which we got from a stream looked filthy, but we
boiled it thoroughly in a biscuit tin, and Angelo
again presided over a magnificent curry filled with
bully beef, while we hit our toes on the ground to
keep warm. A wounded soldier was brought up
by a friend. He had not been attended to for days,
and we did the best we could for him.
A carriage passed laden with two tiny boxes —
a pohceman on either side. Although the boxes
were small the carriage seemed so heavy that the
horses could scarcely drag it, and two weU-dressed
men who were riding on the carriage often had to
get out and push. We wondered if the boxes were
filled with gold. The dreary processions of starving
hoys shuffled up again ; some were crying, some
helping others along, one had an Enghsh jam tin
hanging round his neck. Sir Ralph Paget appeared
in a motor car, loaded with packages and three

WE THROW AWAY THE TENTS 275
other people. We stopped him, and he told Jan
that at Novi Bazar he could get no information
of the path which Jan suggested, and added that
he advised us to come to Mitrovitza. The Scottish
women were to give up the idea of a dressing-station
in Novi Bazar and to stop at Rashka. The Serbs
had told him that there was a good chance of
Uskub being retaken, in which case we could all
go comfortably to Salonika by rail. In the other
case, there were three roads out of the country
from Mitrovitza, which he thought better than
trusting to one road, if it existed.
Jan told him that the carriages were giving
way under the strain of the tents, two of the axle
struts having broken; and he suggested that if
we did not jettison the tents, some of the carriages
would probably never get as far as Rashka. Sir
Ralph told him to do what he thought best.
So we pitched the two heavy tops and the
long bamboo poles overboard, keeping the
sides. " Oh, what are you doing with our tents ? " said
one of the Scottish nurses.
This was comphcated ! We understood the
tents were Sir Ralph's.
AU the men swore they were Sir Ralph's tents,
they had seen them at Nish. The " Scottish
Woman " said she knew the tents well, and they

276 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
had cost £50 each. The men from Nish still
claimed the tents, and said that war was war and
they had left thousands of pounds' worth of stores,
tents, etc., and had been obhged to discard even
motor cars.
" And very extravagant it was of you," she
said. Jan pointed out that if we did not leave the
tents we should very shortly have to discard both
tents and carts, which would be even more
extravagant. She reluctantly cheered up, and we drove
away in the sunshine. Before we turned the
corner we could see an excited mass of soldiers,
peasants, and boys rushing to the tents with
their clasp knives. Perhaps, as coverings, they
saved many people's hves on the cold nights to
come. More and more exhausted oxen were to be seen
lying by the roadside. A huge cart drove over one.
We all arose in our seats, horrified — but the old
ox was all right, still chewing the cud. Over
the chff lay the srhashed remains of a cart — its
owners were flaying the dead horse. A peasant
with bowed head led his cart past us. Drawing
it was one ox — its partner was in the cart, hfting
its head spasmodically — finished. Quantities of
carts passed us filled with furniture, baths, and

Retreating Ammunition Train.

PASSERS BY 277
luggage. A smartly dressed family was picnicking
by the roadside, sitting on deck-chairs. Colonel
P  and Admiral T  shpped by in a shabby
httle red motor. They stopped and told us they were
going to Rashka. It was good to see Enghsh faces
again. A famihar figure went by. It was the brave
young officer from Uzhitze. We gave a hft to a
footsore heutenant, who laughed as we trudged in
the mud.
" Ah, Enghsh and sport," he said.
Crowds were congregated round a man who was
carrying over his shoulder a whole sheep on a spit
and chopping bits off for buyers. On a hillside a
woman was handing out rakia. We thought she
was seUing it, but were told that it was a funeral
and she was giving rakia to all who wanted it.
Starving Austrian prisoners rushed for a glass and
were not refused. The Crown Prince passed,
touching his hat to fifty kilometres of his people.
This time we were not going to be caught by the
darkness, so we stopped near a village at haU-past
three. The sides of the two tents made good
shelters for us. They were set up, looking hke two
long card-houses, and we used bits of canvas for
flooring, very necessary, as it was so wet. Our
fires were quickly made with superfluous tent
pegs, and the rice bag was again drawn forth. A
groaning soldier with bloodstained bandage asked

278 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
us to help him. His arm had not been dressed for
some time. The doctor with us at first thought
he had better not be tampered with ; but finally
agreed to look at bis wound, which was bleeding
violently. She tore up a towel and bound him up tightly.
He said he was going to Studenitza, a long day's
walk, though he was nearly fainting.
On the hill opposite was a huge encampment
of boys. As the darkness grew aU disappeared but
the hght of the fires. It looked fike an ancient
battleship with the portholes on fire. We slept,
the women fairly comfortably, but the men were
overcrowded. Heavy rain came on and poured through the
top of the card houses.
" Now I know what the men suffer in the
trenches," said a very young girl, when she awoke
in a pool of water.
" Guess you don't — they'd call this clover,"
said a sleepy voice.
Looking our oddest we trudged off in the gloom
and wet of next morning, leaping across rivulets
of water which hurtled down the roads. West's
arm was worse, Willett was recovering from a
bad chill, Mawson had not yet got a decent
night's rest for a week — every one longed for a
house.

RASHKA 279
" Dobra Dan," said a voice. It was the friend
of the wounded man we had bound up the first
day. ' Where is your friend ? " we asked.
" I lost him," he answered.
We chmbed for three hours then waited, blocked*
A mihtary motor had stuck deeply in the mud and
the wheels were buzzing round uselessly, so we
helped to dig her out. Every one's inside cried for
breakfast, and when at last we found a swampy
plain, Whatmough and Cutting flung them
selves upon an old tree trunk and cut it up
for firewood.
We always had " company " to these picnic
meals, hungry soldiers, mere ragbags held together
by bones, crept around us and learnt for the first
time the joys of curry and cocoa.
As we came round the corner into sight of the
town a large block of temporary encampments
stretched away beyond the river to our left. Be
yond them was a flat plain on which was a large
tent with a red cross painted over it. High behind
the town towered a grey hill on which was a white
Turkish blockhouse, for though where we were
driving had always been Serbia, Rashka lay just
on the boundary. We drove into a narrow street,
presently coming to a stop where two motor cars
blocked the way.

280 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
The Commandant from Kragujevatz, who had
promised transport to all Enghsh hospitals, was
standing on the road. He seemed very flustered
and bothered lest we should want him to do some
thing for us. We assured him we wanted nothing
except bread, for neither we nor our drivers had
had bread for three days. The colonel shrugged
his shoulders and made a face.
" You might get it perhaps at the hospital."
Another officer, in a long black staff coat,
laughed. He puUed a hard biscuit out of each
pocket, looked at them fondly and pushed them
back again.
" I've got mine anyway," he said. " Bread is
ten shillings a loaf if you can buy it."
Annoyed by the colonel's manner Jo began to
mount her high horse and became blunt. He
was instantly suave.
He seemed dismayed at our idea (to which we
still held) of going to Novi Bazar before Mitrovitza
to see if really no route existed there.
" Impossible," said he ; " bridges are broken
between Rashka and Novi Bazar, and there is no
route through the mountains from there."
We remembered that the country had been
under Turkish rule there years before, and guessed
that probably the Serbs had not yet been able
to exploit new and lonely routes. At every side

NIGHT IN RASHKA 281
in the streets were faces we knew, the head
medical this and the chief mihtary that.
Our personal carts went off in charge of the
corporal, who was looking for bread from the
Government, for of course all bread shops were
shut permanently.
The Scottish sisters had not found a refuge,
and messengers kept on coming back saying this
place was full and that place had no room.
Colonel G  became even less hkable. It seemed
as though there were no organisation of any kind
in the town. At last, when dark had well fallen,
a man said a room had been cleared for them in the
hospital. The motor cars moved slowly off and we
told the rest of our carts to follow, as Colonel G 
said we might get bread at the same place. We
stumbled after them through pitch black streets, so
uneven that one did not know if one were in the
ditch or on the road itseU ; one lost all sense of
direction and only tried not to lose sight of the
flickering hghts of the carts. Jo at last chmbed
into one, and the carts rumbled over a wooden
bridge and began to go up a steep bill. We came
suddenly to a rambhng wooden house and our carts
dived into a deep ditch. Jo leapt off just in time
to save hers from turning right over. Crowds of
wounded Serbians were standing at the foot of
a rickety outside staircase. Above was a dressing-

282 THE FLIGHT OF SERBIA
station, and a dark smeUy room with no beds, which
was to be the sisters' home. We could get no bread
and so went out once more into the dark. We did
not know where our carts had gone, but some one
said if we went in " that " direction we should
find them. On we went uphill, losing our way in a
maize field. In front of us were hundreds of camp
fires. At the first we asked if they had seen the
Enghsh. They shrugged their shoulders in negative.
We asked at the next ; same result. We had the
awful thought that we should have to search every
camp fire before we found our people, but luckily
almost fell over Mawson, who had been fetching
water. We were going in quite the wrong direction
and but for this lucky meeting might have wandered
for hours.
A good fire was blazing in front of the tents.
An Austrian prisoner cut wood for us in exchange
for a meal. He came from a large encampment
whose fires were blazing near by. Dr. Holmes
and a sister emerged through the smoke ; they had
at last got a cart and horse. With them was an
Austrian subject flying for his hfe. He had hved
for years in Serbia, his sympathies and ancestry
were Serbian, but if the Austrians got him he would
be hanged. We wondered if it was the husband of
the frantic woman at Krahevo, but did not ask.
One went early to bed these nights. The men

BED

283

spread out into two card-houses while Jo was
hospitably given a real camp-bedstead in a corner
of the Stobarts' kitchen, on the floor of which
slept their men and also West, whose arm was
getting worse.

CHAPTER XIX
NOVI BAZAR
We awoke to find where we were. The httle
encampment which we had seen to our left on
entering the town, was now far on our right. The
flat plain — where was the large tent with the red
cross painted over it — had been our bed, the tent
behind us ; to our right was the brown hiU topped
by the old Turkish blockhouse ; and in front a cut
maize field with its sohd red stubble sloped directly
to the river, beyond which lay the viUage massed
on the opposite slope up to a white church. Im
mediately below us on the river edge were the
roofs of the " Stobarts' " refuge and of the Scottish
women's hospital. Poplar trees in aU the panoply
of autumn sprang up from the valley with their
tops full of the blackest crows, who cawed dis
cordantly at the dawn. Our fire had gone out, but
the Austrian had left enough wood, another
was quickly started ; but we found that Angelo in
making his curries had melted all the solder from
the empty biscuit tins and not one would hold
284

RASHKA 285
water. So there was a hurried transference of
biscuits from a whole one.
From where we sat sipping our cocoa, we could
see the hurried coming and going of motors in the
main square, and groups of bullock waggons and
soldiers about the fence of the church. A great
street which spht the village in two from top to
bottom — the old Turkish frontier — was almost
empty. The corporal proposed to visit the mihtary
commandant in search of hay and bread. So Jan
dragged on his wet boots and set off with him down
the hill, collecting Jo from the " Stobarts " on
the way.
We crossed the rickety wooden bridge, passed
between the alfresco encampments — hke travelhng
tinkers — of waggoners and soldiers which hned
the roads, up the great frontier street and so into
the square. AU that now was SERBIA was
concentrated in this httle village. Private houses
had suddenly become ministries ; cafes, head
quarters; and shops, departmental offices. The
square was the central automobile station, and
cars under repair or adjustment were in every
corner. Beneath the church pahng a camp of
waggoners had a large bonfire and were cooking
a whole sheep on a spit. Austrian prisoners with
white, drawn faces were wandering about, staring
with haU unseeing eyes ; a Serbian soldier was

286 NOVI BAZAR
chewing a hard biscuit, and a prisoner crept up
to him begging for a corner of the bread ; the
soldier broke off a piece and gave it to him.
About the gate of the commandant's office
were gathered Serbs and Austrians aU waiting for
bread. We pushed our way in. The hay was
quickly arranged, but the bread was another
matter. " We have no bread," said the commandant.
" But," we objected, " aU those men waiting
outside. They would not come here if you had
no bread." The commandant pulled his moustache.
" We have bread only for soldiers."
There was a sudden commotion outside. The
door was burst open ; two soldiers entered dragging
with them a man — a peasant ; his eyes were staring,
his face blanched. We then noticed that he was
holding his shoulders in a curious manner, and
reahzed that his arms were bound with his own belt.
The two soldiers pushed him into an inner room,
but the officials were busy, so he was stood in a
corner. " What has he done ? " we asked.
" We have only bread for soldiers," repeated
the commandant. Bread was evidently the most
important. " We have a Government order."

BREAD 287
He scanned it, pounced upon the three franc
phrase and offered us money. We pointed out
that bread was indicated to the value 
' We have no bread for the Enghsh," he said
at last. Jo once more made the nasty httle speech
which we had found so effective at Krahevo. It
worked hke a charm. An enormous sack filled
with loaves was dragged out and from it he choose
three. We mentioned the man once more. The
commandant shrugged his shoulders.
" He's going to be killed," he said. " Some
soldiers looted his yard and he shot one."
He then asked the corporal if he would take
flour instead of bread. The corporal agreed,
adding that in that case, of course, they would get
a bit more.
" Of course, you won't," said the commandant.
We sent the corporal back to the camp with
the loaves, and with a httle trouble found the
house where Colonel P — — and Admiral T 
had lodgings. It was a gay little cottage, and
both were at breakfast. They welcomed us and
generously offered us their spare eggs, though eggs
were scarce. The admiral had a large-scale map
¦ — made, of course, by Austria — and we hunted it
for our road. Paths were marked quite clearly,
and houses at most convenient intervals. It

288 NOVI BAZAR
seemed a far superior path to the Ipek pass, both
regarding shelter and length.
" But," we said, " Sir Ralph suggests that we
go to Mitrovitza, because the Serbs say that
Uskub will fall in a few days."
" I should get out of the country as soon as
you can," said one.
" It is exceedingly unlikely that Uskub can
fall," said the other. But they promised us as
definite information as they were aUowed to give
if we would return for tea, by when the aeroplane
reconnaissance should have come in.
We went back to the camp with the news.
Colonel G  came up and tried to wipe out
the impression which he had made the evening
before. He repeated that Uskub must certainly
fall within the week, and that we should be very
silly to go off to Novi Bazar, which we could
never reach because the bridge had been washed
away. All the hill behind was crowded with Austrian
prisoners. They had received one loaf between
every three men, and said that it had to last three
days. They did not know where they were going.
Blease went through their hnes, and at last found
an old servant — a Hungarian. He was a stoic.
" One hves till one is dead," said he.
The hospital was doing a brisk trade in wounded :

JUSTICE 289
sisters and doctors both hard at work. The
" Stobarts " were resting, and had built a camp
fire outside the door of their hovel. We got lunch
ready, ruining recklessly another biscuit tin.
While we were eating it a Serb came near.
" I am starving," he said.
We gave him some curry and rice. He de
voured it.
" To-morrow," he said, " I go back to com
mando." We pointed to his hand, which was bound in
dirty hnen.
" But ? "
" It is better to go back though wounded than
be starved to death."
We also held a court of justice. A driver
complained that one of the Enghshmen had given
him a pair of boots and that the corporal had
taken them.
" CORPORAL ! ! "
He came grinning. We exposed the com
plaint. " Certainly the man had a pair of boots," said
he ; " but he has them no longer. Now, they are
mine, I have taken them."
" But they were given to him."
" But I have taken them. I needed new boots."
He exhibited his own, which were spht. u

290 NOVI BAZAR
We told him that possession by capture was
not recognized in our circle, and ordered immediate
restitution. He agreed gloomily, no doubt feeling
that the foundations of his world were falhng
about his ears, and what was the use of being a
corporal anyway ?
In the afternoon we sought out the motor
authorities, finding our old friends Ristich and
Derrok in command. They easily promised us
transport for Sir Ralph Paget's box and henchmen
— no trouble at all they said. Yet had we not
known them personally we might have waited a
month without help. One is irresistibly reminded
at every turn that the Near East means the East
near the East and not the East near the West.
We went to the Enghsh colonel's, but no news
was yet forthcoming, and we were, after a jolly
tea, invited back at eight.
The camp was in darkness by the time we reached
it once more. The fire fit up the men sitting
about it, and the two inverted V's of the tent
entrances ; very faintly behind could be seen the
outhne of the hne of httle tented waggons. We
had collected an additional member, Miss Brindley
of the " Stobarts." She was very keen to get
home, as her parents were anxious, and both her
brothers at the front. Jo gave one look at her
and said " Certainly." She had rushed immediately

THE DECISION 291
into the town and had laid in a stock of beans
and lentils, as her contribution to the common
stock. They were all she could buy.
After supper back to the colonel's, and at last
got definite news. It was unlikely that Skoplje
would faU, and very httle use loitering in hopes.
The colonel advised Jan to get his party out by the
best route possible, and we took a grateful farewell.
Coming back to the camp Jan had a nasty
haU-hour. Should we go by Mitrovitza, or should
we go by Berane ? In the first case there was the
long route, the difficulty of getting lodgings and of
transport, the risk of falhng behind the Serbian
General Staff, and of finding the country bare,
the high passes of Petch and the snow ; Willett was
only just recovering from a bad chill, West's arm
had grown much worse, and had been operated on
in the morning by a doctor with a pair of scissors
faute de mieux — a most agonizing process. On
the other hand, the Berane route was unknown
to the authorities, and might have fallen so into
decay that it was useless ; we did not know where
the Austro-Germans were, and they might be
already on the outskirts of Novi Bazar ; if any of
us fell ill we should certainly be captured. It was
a toss up. Finally he asked the others. They
said — •
" What you think best. You know the country."

292 NOVI BAZAR
We finally decided to go to Novi Bazar and
make inquiries. If there were no road we could
go thence to Mitrovitza, and would only have
lost a day. If, as the colonel said, the bridge
was washed away, we could probably ford the
river. Then to bed. One could not sleep really well,
for the rugs did not give sufficient warmth, and
the chill striking up from the ground penetrated
everything. Took the road to Novi Bazar next day. Miss
Brindley joined us with a parcel of blankets and a
knapsack and a mackintosh lent by a friend. She
had lost her boots, or the local cobbler had lost
them, but most appropriately a motor had arrived
and on it was a pair of new soldier's boots unclaimed.
She took them, cut the feet of a pair of indiarubber
Welhngtons and pulled them over her stockings,
and put a smile on her face which never came off
in spite of any fatigue.
Hilder and Antonio went off with Sir Ralph's box.
The " Stobarts " wished us good luck, and away
we clattered over the rickety bridge, up through
the town and out into the Novi Bazar road.
The surface was fairly good, and the day turned
brilhant. We had left the six sisters and their
luggage behind with their respective units, and
so had four extra waggons to carry our stuff. We

LOOTING AGAIN 293
rattled along cheerily, only dismounting at the
occasional patches of mud which we met.
After a while we decided to lunch. We came
to a cafe and halted.
" Have you coffee ? " we asked.
" Ima."
" WiU you give us aU coffee ? "
" We have no sugar," said the hostess ; so we
had no coffee.
We got out a tin of biscuits and lunched on
those. As we were passing them round a soldier
stopped. " What are you selhng those for ? " he asked,
under the impression that we were a travelhng
shop. We gave him some, to his great astonish
ment. On we went again. Down below us in a field
the corporal spotted a hayrick. Like stage villains
the coachmen clambered down the hill, each with
a rope — spoil from the discarded tents. They
attacked the rick and soon nothing was left. As
they staggered back, each hidden beneath an
enormous load of hay — looking themselves hke
walking ricks — a Turk in black and white clothes
ran down from above furiously brandishing a
three-pronged fork.
" What are you doing ? " he yelled.
The corporal stood stiffly and said—-

294 NOVI BAZAR
" It is war. We are the State. It is of no
value for you to preach."
The owner went dolefully down the hiU, and
stood looking at where his stack had been.
" We have again prevented those Germans
from steahng good hay," said the corporal with
satisfaction. Each cart looked not unhke a hay
wain returning from the fields, and we scrambled
up on to the top feeling fike children in the autumn.
After we had gone a mile we began to wonder
why we had given the owner no compensation:
evidently the corporal's influence was turning us
into scoundrels.
At last the broken bridge. Only a shaUow
stream across which our carts splashed joyfully.
On the other side was a small church with a beautiful
blue tower. And soon we were in the outskirts
of Novi Bazar, the most ordinary town of the
Sanjak, combining the dull parts of Plevhe with
the dull parts of Ipek. There was a stream down
the middle of the road, in which some of the
inhabitants were washing, while one sat on his
haunches holding up a small looking-glass with
one hand and shaving himseU.
We bustled off to the mayor's office. Found
him as usual in a back street in a shabby office
up shaky wooden stairs. The mayor knew nothing
of any road to Berane ; so baffled, we again found

THE PERMISSION 295
the street. We went to the shabby Turkish shops
of the bazaar and inquired.
" Certainly," said the shopkeepers, " a good
path to Berane, and not high. No ; not so high as
that by Ipek."
We returned to the mayor's office. He seemed
httle inchned to consent, and demanded to see our
pass. Jo again made her httle — but so useful —
speech. The mayor caUed in an Albanian. After
a long consultation the mayor said that he had no
horses. " Then we wiU take our carriage horses," said we.
" There are no roads for carriages," said the
mayor. " Then we wiU take the horses without the
carriages." The mayor called in two more men : they con
sidered the pass once more.
" You may have the carriages two days more,"
he decided at last. " Go to Tutigne. As far as
that the carriages wiU travel. There are many
horses there, and you can get pack ponies."
Coming out we ran into Colonel Stajitch of
Vahevo. The colonel is a Serbian gentleman, fine
figure, beautiful face, and white hair and mous
taches. He greeted us, asked us our news. We
told him of our projected journey. He became
thoughtful and after a while said good-bye. We

296 NOVI BAZAR
took our convoy through the town to a field on the
outskirts where we pitched the camp.
We borrowed the corporal's axe and hewed for
some time in a thorn hedge, without getting much
profit but many prickles, and finaUy decided to
take a paling from a Turkish cemetery, for there
was no one about.
Soon we had a jolly fire, and Cutting and
Whatmough got to work on the food. Dr. Holmes
turned up. He had arrived the day before and
had found lodgings in an inn. West's arm was
still inflamed and very painful. The doctor looked
at it and said it needed more incision. West and
Miss Brindley went off with him.
An old ragamuffin wandered up with a loaf of
maize bread. He offered it to the corporal for
three dinars ; but the corporal took it away and gave
him two. The old man made a great outcry. We
demanded the cause. The unlawful corporal was
again hailed to justice, his corporalship seeming
more valueless than ever, and to give him a lesson
we bought the bread for three dinars, for it was
worth it.
We suddenly discovered that none of the Red
Cross men had papers or passes. What was to be
done ? We were conniving at an almost unlawful
expedition, and Jan was very doubtful if we could
cross the Montenegrin frontier. But after a con-

HOTEL DE PARIS 297
sultation we decided to bluff it into Montenegro if
necessary, and then telegraph to Cettinje to help
us out. It was now dark and West and Miss Brindley
had not come back. So Jan and Jo went off to
look for them. We searched two cafes — meeting
again with our old acquaintance the schoolmaster
from Nish — plunged into aU sorts of odd corners,
and at last met Colonel Stajitch in a restaurant.
He greeted us.
" I have a great favour to ask," he said diffi
dently. " If I might I should hke to give to you
a httle appendix. It is my son. He is seventeen,
but is very big for bis age. If the Austrians
catch him I do not know what will become of him."
We were introduced to the boy, and at once
consented. " I wiU decide for certain to-morrow," said the
colonel. " Can I meet you at seven o'clock ? "
We hunted once more for West. Ran him to
earth at last in the Hotel de Paris. This hotel
could perhaps have existed in the Butte de Mont-
martre, but even there it would have been con
sidered a disgrace. We had to pass through a
long room crammed with sleeping soldiery, stepping
across them to get to the door opposite. Every
window was tight shut, and after one horrified
gulp we held our breath till we reached the interior

298

NOVI BAZAR

courtyard. Here, too, were sleeping men, and all
along the balconies and passages were more.
We found Holmes' room. West was there,
rather white and just recovering from the anaes
thetic. We sat down. Dr. Holmes had thought of
coming with us, but the authorities had looked
suspiciously at his passes, which were made out to
Mitrovitza, so he decided to go on there. We wished
that he had come, as a doctor would have been
a great comfort had we reaUy needed him.
After a rest West was weU enough to go back
to the camp.

CHAPTER XX
THE UNKNOWN ROAD
As we stood around the camp fire drinking our
cocoa a queer ragged old Albanian crept up and
watched us with a smile. He was the owner of
the house near by, whose pahngs we had almost
looted. We offered him cocoa, which he liked
immensely ; and asked him about the road to
Tutigne. He said —
" There is a road for carts — I know it."
" WiU you show it us ? " said Jo.
He gave a wild yell and ran away, waving a
stick. " What  ? ! ! ! !  "
It was nothing, only the pigs had invaded his
cabbage patch. He came back later with an
enormous apple, which he presented to Jo.
" Have you apples for sale ? "
He shook his head, saying " Ima, ima."
We bought several pounds, arranged with him
to guide us later to the carriage road, and hurried
into the town to buy provisions.
'299

300 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
There we met Colonel Stajitch. " Will you take
my boy ? "
" Dehghted. Are his papers in order ? "
The mayor hereupon turned up, and the
colonel's face grew longer as they conversed.
" The mayor cannot give me the necessary
permits without Government sanction," he said.
" I must get it from Rashka by telephone. It
will take an hour. Can you wait ? "
We spent the time shopping. Each shop
looked as empty as if it had been through a Saturday
night's sale. One had elderly raisins, another had
a few potatoes. We found some onions, bought
another cooking pot and kitchen necessaries, and
packed them in the carts which had arrived in the
town. Nobody would take paper money unless we
bought ten francs' worth. After waiting an hour
and a haU we hunted down the colonel. The
telephone official told us he had got leave from the
Government. At last we found him in the mayor's
office, bristhng with papers and the passport.
" I have got you an armed pohceman as escort,"
he said, waving the papers, " and the boy has a
good horse, twenty pounds in gold, and twenty in
silver." We found the boy waiting with the carriages.
He wore a strange little brown cashmere Norfolk
jersey and very superior black riding breeches.

THE CARRIAGE ROAD 301
Dressed more romantically he would have made an
ideal Prince for an Arabian Nights' story. His
father accompanied us until our Albanian guide
announced —
" Here begins the carriage road."
Their parting must have been a hard thing.
The father could not tell how his son's expedition
would end, and the son was leaving his father to
an unknown fate. They embraced, smiling cheerily,
and the boy rode on ahead of us all, blowing his
nose and cursing his horse.
In many places the " carriage road " was no road
at all. The carts lurched and bumped over rivers,
boulders, fields, and the inevitable mud. Several
times we had to jump on our carts as they dragged
us over deep and rapid rivers. After three hours
we stopped at a farm, our mounted pohceman
called out the owners and autocratically ordered
two of the young men to accompany us as guides
and guards.
They came, bearing their guns, white fezzed,
white clothed, black braided youths with shaven
polls and flashing teeth. We began to ch'mb, and
for hours and hours we toiled upwards. The
carriages lumbered painfully far behind us, led by
their elderly and panting drivers.
"If this is what they call a good and easy
road," we thought, " it would have been better to

302 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
harness four horses to each cart, and to have left
five carts behind."
The horses came from the plain of Chabatz, and
had probably never seen a hill in their hves.
" These horses will die," said the corporal ;
but he seemed more interested in hunting for water
for himseU than in the struggles of the poor beasts.
One of our Albanian guides was overwhelmed
with the beauty of Cutting's silver-plated revolver.
" How much did you pay for it ? "
" Thirty francs," said Cutting, shooting at the
scenery. Jan produced his automatic, but the Albanian
scorned it as one would turn from a lark to a bird
of Paradise. He turned the glittering object over
lovingly, thought, felt in his pockets, drew out a
green and red knitted purse, and shook his head.
" I will give you thirty francs."
But Cutting wasn't on the bargain. He
pocketed the treasure again, and we plodded on.
" How far are we from Tutigne ? " we asked.
" Four hours," said a dignified Albanian, who
had joined our party.
" No, two hours," said another.
" Three at most," corrected a third.
The first man lifted his hand. " I say four
hours, and it is four hours. With such horses
as these we crawl."

MUD-MUD 303
We reached a desolate tableland at dusk. Here
the horses halted for some while. With the halt
came a sudden desire to stay there for good. It
seemed as if we should never reach Tutigne.
The evening brought with it chilly damp breezes,
and the footsore company was getting quite dis
heartened. " Let us camp here," said everybody.
But the pohceman had a mailbag to dehver
that night, and we had to push on. Experienced
as we were in Serbian roads, never had we seen
such mud. Down, down sank our feet, and we
could only extract them again chnging to the carts
with the sound of a violent kiss. We tried to
escape it by chmbing into the thick brushwood,
only to find it again, stickier and more slippery,
while the bushes grasped us with thorny arms
and athletically switched our faces. A moonless
darkness came upon us and we had to walk just
behind the carriages, peering at the square yard of
road iUuminated by candles in our penny lanterns.
OccasionaUy a voice greeted us. We asked how
far Tutigne was.
" About an hour," was the invariable answer
aU along the hne.
But the dignified guide was right. After four
hours we reached the main street, arriving slowly
to the music of incredible clatter as our httle carts

304 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
leapt and jolted over hundreds of big pointed stones
laid carefully side by side — Tutigne's concession
to Macadam. There were faint hghts in some of the httle
wooden houses. Others stood dark and un
friendly. We stopped. Curses filled the air. An
ox-cart was lying right across the road. After
shouting himself hoarse the pohceman woke up
an old man in a house near by — the owner. He
rheumatically grumbled in his doorway; so the
gendarme called our Albanians, and in two twos
they had turned the cart upside down in a ditch,
saying— " It serves you right."
Voices sounded in the darkness. The carriages
lurched on. Presently they left the road and turned
on to grass, they seemed to be leaving the village
behind. We did not know where they were going,
and were so tired that we did not care, if only they
would get somewhere and stop, which at last they
did. We jumped off into a squelch of water.
" Good heavens, this won't do ! "
We searched the whole field for a dry spot, but
though it was a hillside, it was a swamp. We
chose the least marshy place and built a fire.
" Where is the mayor ? " we asked of the strange
faces dimly to be seen in the light of our fire.
They pointed to two cottage window hghts.

A SHELTER 305
We went towards them, at last reahzing our
proximity by stumbhng into a dung-heap and
knocking against a pig-stye. There was a narrow
stairway, and above it a big landing. A man
foUowed and knocked at a door for us.
The mayor appeared — a httle man — square in
face, hair, beard and figure.
We explained ourselves and showed our letter.
He looked grave at our demand for horses ; said
we would talk it over on the morrow, and sym
pathized about the swampy field.
" Would you fike to sleep here on the floor ? "
he said, showing us a clean-looking office. " We
regret we have no beds."
We were dehghted. His wife, who had gone
to bed, appeared in a striped petticoat and a second
one worn as a shawl.
" The tables shall be moved and the stove ht,"
she said. " It will be ready in a few minutes."
We picked our way back to the fire, avoiding
the dung-heap and pig-stye, whereby we nearly
feU into a cesspool. Cocoa was brewing, one card-
house had been erected as a shelter for some of
our things. The drivers were crouched round their
own fire cooking something. It was difficult to
find our bundles in the carts as one only recognized
them by the drivers. We climbed in feehng about
by the hght of a match. Jo found a foot in one.

308 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
" How can we find things with people lying on
them ? " she said to the foot.
It remained immobile ; she pulled it — no
response. She tugged it. A face hfted itseU at
the far end of the cart. It was the corporal's wife
lying on her own possessions, very tired and rather
cross. Jo patted her remorsefuUy and decamped.
We must have looked hke a regiment of gnomes
bearing forbidden treasure as we hobbled through
the darkness, laden with our bundles of blankets.
The hght in the office nearly bhnded us, and the
heat from the stove struck us hke a violent blow.
The mayor, his wife, two hurriedly dressed children
and several other people received us. There was
an awkward silence. Jo murmured in the back
ground —
" It is manners here to go up, shake hands, and
say one's name."
Very uncomfortably everybody did so, one by
one. Another silence. We racked our brains — the
weather — our journey — the war. One had nothing
sensible to say about anything. Jo asked the
children's age. The information was supphed.
Silence, We filled the gap by smiling. At last
the mayor's wife said we must be worn out, and
they all left us.
The mayor crept back. " Don't talk about the
mihtary situation," he said ; " if these Turks knew

PACKING IN 307
it they might kill us all." Then he shut the
door. We flew to a window and opened it, changed
our stockings, hung wet boots and socks over the
stove, ate bully beef, and rolled up, pillowing our
heads on our httle sacks- — thirteen sleepy people.
The mayor's wife opened the door an inch and
peeped at us as we lay, looking, indeed, more hke
a jumble sale than anything. Mawson wore a
Burglar cap tied under his chin, and a coUection of
khaki mufflers, looking equipped for a Channel
crossing. Miss Brindley's head was tied up in a
bandana handkerchief; Jo's in a purple oilsilk
hood; others shared mackintosh sheets and blankets;
West pulled his Serbian cap right down to his
mouth. Jan put on the white mackintosh dressing-
coat, over that his greatcoat, then he spread out a
red, green, yellow and black striped Serbian rug,
roUed up in it with many contortions, and pushed
his feet into a tent bag. Blease in a Balaklava,
showing nose hke an Arctic explorer, got into a
black oilskin, one corner of which had been
repaired with a large yellow patch, he then rolled
up in oddments collected from the company,
as his own overcoat had been stolen, and bound it
all together by tying the many coloured knitted
rug around him, after putting the lamp out in
advertently with his head.

308 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
In the morning we interviewed the mayor.
He read and reread the letter from the Novi
Bazar mayor, took an interest in the social
supremacy of Staj itch's father, who was a man of
birth, but said he had no horses.
Jo appealed to his better feehngs. He scratched
his head.
" Yes, truly one must try to help the Enghsh,"
he said, but looked very glum.
" I will have the neighbouring hamlets searched
for horses."
We thanked him and wandered into the viUage
cafe. An old man with black sprouting eye
brows a la Nick Winter, was sitting there. He had
walked for five days, eating only apples.
" Very good food too," he said. " Here is my
luggage." He pointed to a knotted handkerchief contain
ing a tiny loaf of bread which he had just acquired.
His goal was a monastery in Montenegro, where he
said they would house and feed him for the winter
in exchange for a little work.
At 11.30 three horses were brought. Three
more were promised, so we reluctantly decided to
start the next day. There was nothing to do.
Our carriages went. We gave the corporal a
card-house to take back to Rashka with httle faith
that he would not try to stick to it. He had not

INTRODUCES THE PROFESSOR 309
returned the boots to their owner, so we took them
from him and gave them to their rightful owner,
and handed over to the corporal a spare pair of
our own boots to keep him honest.
At dawn Stajitch, who had been sleeping in
style upon a friend's table, came to say we had six
horses, but a professor had turned up in the night
and was coming with us. He had been so ex
hausted with the walk that his pohceman had
carried him most of the way. Not pleased, we
went to inspect him. He was small, corpulent,
and was sitting with clasped woolly gloves, goloshed
feet, and a diffident smile.
He explained to us that he was delicate, and
as he was no walker it would be necessary for him
to ride one horse. So we packed our food, sacks,
blankets, mackintoshes and the card-house as best
we could on the remaining five horses.
No sooner had we left the village, and aU signs
of road or bridle path, with a new pohceman and
two or three ragged Albanians, than one of the
horses broke loose and began to dance — first the
tango, then the waltz. The pack, which was but
insecurely attached, stood the tango, but with the
waltz a bag of potatoes swung loose at the end of
a rope, its gyroscopic action swinging the horse
quicker and quicker until it was spinning on one
toe. Then the girths broke, saddle and all came

310 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
to the ground. The brute looked round as if saying
" That's that," and cantered off, followed slowly
by the professor on horseback. We called. He
appeared to take no notice. At last he turned
round saying —
" The horse will not."
Jo leapt in the air kicking.
" Do that with your heels," she said.
But we had to send the pohceman to help
him. He rode hour by hour, hitting his beast
with a bent umbrella, and hfting two fat hands
to heaven. " Teshko " (It is hard), he whined.
" Ni je teshko " (It is not hard), said Miss
Brindley, cheerfully trudging along.
We wanted to stop at the top of a hill for lunch.
" Horrible," he said. " Here the brigands will
shoot us from the bushes," and pushed ahead,
being held on by the grinning pohceman.
We pulled out some biscuits and margarine,
and drank water from our bottles, cigarettes went
round, and we charged ahead. In front was the
professor falling off his horse and being put on
again. We were very anxious about the frontier.
Most of our party were travelhng without official
permits, as they had known nothing about such
things ; but we hoped that being Enghsh Red Cross

THE ARREST 311
and having passports there would not be much
trouble. We arrived at a little village, three or
four wooden houses. Three pompous old men
came to meet us, and we took coffee together
outside the inn. They were very surprised to hear
we were English, and said that no Enghsh had ever
passed that way before.
At the frontier, an hour further on, a man and
his wife came down from a httle house on the hill
and stopped us. They examined the papers of
the two Serbs, but left us alone, to our huge relief .
We breathed again.
Soon after, however, Whatmough rushed up to
Jan and Jo, who were talking to a ragged woman.
" Do come and talk. An officer has arrested
West and Mawson."
We ran ahead to find a perplexed mounted
officer surrounded by our party. He had come upon
West and Mawson walking on ahead and took them
to be Bulgarian comitaj.
" No, that's not an Enghsh uniform," he said,
and searched them for firearms. When the others
came he wavered. Miss Brindley did not look hke
a comitaj ; and by the time we arrived he began to
talk about the mihtary situation in the Balkans,
and rode off with the pohtest of farewells.
If there isn't a telegraph wire to guide, don't
take short cuts. Jan, Stajitch, and Jo tried to

312 THE UNKNOWN ROAD
race the darkness by cutting straight down a ravine.
We lost the horses, lost every one else, and we
came out again on to a hiU crest. No one was to
be seen. After a while the professor rode by, led
by his pohceman, who had been almost suffocated
by laughter all day.
" Teshko, teshko," moaned the professor.
" Ni je teshko," we said. " But where are the
horses ? "
He waved a hand vaguely behind him. Rogerson,
Whatmough, and Owen came up. It was getting
dark and a mist was rising. So we left the three
at the corner to mark where it was and went back.
For a long time we stumbled in the darkness,
shouting, but no horses could we find. At last
we decided to turn back, wondering if they too had
lost their way and decided to camp out. There
were shouts in the valley beyond. A fight flashed
and some one fired off a revolver. There was a
candle end in Jan's bag, and by its dim hght we
found a road. It went downwards, so we thought
it might be the right one. Suddenly it turned in
the wrong direction, but as there were hoof marks
on it we decided to follow it as it must lead some
where — we could not search the whole countryside
with a candle. Just as we were in despair the road
seemed to shake itseU and twisted back again.
We heard more shouting and saw a light, and at

THE INN 313
last found Miss Brindley and Mawson, who were
waiting for us.
" We have been to the village," they said.
We asked them about the horses. They said
they were all there ! ! ! !
That professor again !
Some one heard trickhng water, and with a cry
of joy we put our mouths under the jet of water
which spouted from a httle trough which jutted
from the hiU. Nothing could be seen of the village
when we arrived, but it seemed very long and very
stony. An old peasant with a candle led us for
what seemed miles between high pahsades of wood
until we reached the inn.
There was a big room with a stove in the middle
and many Montenegrins in uniform were sitting
about. Some of our party were afieady asleep,
worn out on the benches. We opened a tin of beef,
got some bread and kaimack and woke up the
others for their evening meal. While we were eating
a Montenegrin staff officer said —
" Your commandant, the professor — ¦ — "
" What ? " said we.
" Your commandant, the professor, has said
you wiU rest here to-morrow."
We told him the professor was no commandant
of ours, and that we certainly would not rest there
to-morrow.

314

THE UNKNOWN ROAD

" Well," said the staff officer, " he has certainly
ordered horses for the day after from the captain."
We were too tired to rectify matters at once,
and our meal finished, we rolled up on the dirty
floor.

CHAPTER XXI
THE FLEA-PIT
Those comfortable folks who have never slept out
of a bed do not know how annoying a blanket may
be, if there is nothing into which to tuck its folds.
Wrap yourseU up in one, he flat and motionless
on the floor, and we guarantee that in an hour the
blanket has unrolled itseU and is making frantic
efforts to escape. Every night on the road resolved
into a haU-dazed attempt to hold on to the elusive
wrap. Sleep came in as a second consideration,
and when we say we awoke on any particular
morning, it reaUy means that we got up, though
several of us in the intervals of blanket catching did
get in a snore or two.
WeU, we got up, then, in good time next day,
hoping to rectify the professor's interference, and
stumbhng along with Stajitch, we reached the high-
roofed " Diirer " dwelling where resided the com
mandant of the viUage. In the kitchen we found
two women with bare feet, two children and a man
haU undressed. He brought in the captain, also
315

316 THE FLEA-PIT
in negligee. Now, mark, we were in Montenegro.
We exposed our grievance to the captain and
roundly denounced the professor as an interfering
old beggar. The captain first gave us coffee,
second hurried us to his office, third called in three
henchmen and issued rapid orders.
" Certainly, certainly. You shall have all the
horses you need. Just only wait one httle quarter
of an hour. I will give you four pohcemen to go
with you."
We protested that four was too many.
" No, no," he said, " you had better have
four." We went back joyfully to the hotel. Cutting or
one of the others had been exploring and had gotten
twenty eggs. The hotel people consented to cook
them. While we were outside looking at the
mosques and wondering when the horses were
coming, the professor walked into the bar-room.
" Ah," said he, " eggs."
" They belong to the Enghsh," said the
hostess. " Good," said the professor, and swaUowed
four. Just then we returned.
" But there are only sixteen eggs," said we.
" The professor has eaten the others," said the
woman, pointing.

THE PROFESSOR AND THE EGGS 317
In a minute the professor wished that he had
not. Jan took the opportunity of saying a few
things which had been boihng within him. He
accused the wretched man of interference in
assuming control of the expedition ; he said that
he was a mere hanger-on, and a useless and selfish
one at that.
The professor wilted. He made a thousand
apologies, and finally ran off wringing his fat
hands, found with great difficulty four more eggs
and cast them into the boihng water.
" There," he said, " you can have your four
eggs." " It's not the eggs," answered Jan, " it's
you." Jo was roaring with laughter. Some of the
morning she had been in a woman's house listening
to one of the pohceman's tales of the professor,
and soon the whole village was rocking with
amusement at " Teshko."
At last the horses arrived — six miserable-
looking beasts, but this time all had shoes. One
was commandeered by the professor.
" He is the greatest philosopher in all Serbia,"
whispered an official to Jan.
" Ah, I guessed there must be some reason,"
said Jan.
We had a send-off, all the village came to see

318 THE FLEA-PIT
us go away. The day was a repetition of our
previous experiences. A long tramp in the mud.
At the top of the highest pass we had yet reached
was an old wooden blockhouse.
We came upon it unexpectedly, rounding a
corner. Montenegrin soldiers were cooking at a
wood fire ; but we were surprised to find aU round
the square log cabin deep rifle pits, the best we
had yet seen in Serbia.
" Good Lord, what are those f or ? " said
Jan. " This is an old Turkish post," said the
sergeant. " It has been kept up. We don't know
why." We walked off meditating. Montenegrins do
not squander soldiers without reason ; and then
one's mind went back to the four armed guards
who were accompanying us.
We discovered the truth later, let us tell the
story here.
Berane, to which we were descending, was once
a populous growing Turkish town. After the Balkan
war it fell into Montenegrin territories. The Monte
negrins chased out all the Turkish landowners, who
fled to these mountains, where they formed bands of
brigands and caused no httle consternation and
trouble to the authorities, who could not catch
them. The authorities passed a httle Act,

THE PROFESSOR AND THE SNOW 319
reinstating the landowners in their territories;
but when an attempt was made to put the Act
into force, it was found that the authorities
themselves were in possession of the lands. What
was to be done ? The blockhouse was the
solution. We stopped at a primitive cafe and lunched.
Jo gave the children some chocolate. They did
not know what it was. She smeared some on to
the baby's hps, and after that it sucked hard.
Soon the little girl licked hers ; but the boy, more
suspicious, would not eat, holding the lump till it
melted into a sticky mass in his fingers. The scenery
was very beautiful. There was a faint rain which
greyed everything, and the near birches had lost
aU their leaves and the twigs made a reddish fog
through which could be seen the slopes of the
opposite hillsides. The professor began to be
worried about the rain.
" If this should turn to snow," said he, " we
would be snowed up. And I am sure I don't know
what I should do if I were snowed up."
We hoped to reach our halting place, which was
called Vrbitza, before dark; but it was further
away than our informant had said. Once more
we found ourselves floundering about in the mud
of the viUage path after dusk. We reached houses
which we could not see ; walked over shppery poles

320 THE FLEA-PIT
set over heaven knows what middens. Clambered
up creaky steps into the usual sort of dirty wooden
room — and there, his stockings off, warming his
toes at the blaze of the wood fire, was "Eye
brows." We were immediately attracted by three paint
ings on the wall. They were decorative designs,
very beautiful. We asked the proprietor who had
done them.
" I did," he said.
" Will you sell them ? " we asked.
He giggled like a girl. " Ah, who would buy
them ? " he said.
" We will."
" I couldn't let you have them for less than
sixpence," he said. " You see the papers cost a
penny each."
Whatmough coveted one, so he had his choice,
we took the other two.
The pohceman came to tell us that rooms had
been prepared in two clean houses. We scrambled
out into the dark again, stumbled along in the mud,
and at last found an open square of hght, through
which we came into a room.
There was a red rug over haU the floor, and a
brasier on three legs filled with charcoal standing
in the centre. One or two of our men had aheady
found the place and were lying on the rug. In

THE PROFESSOR AND THE ROOMS 321
one corner was a large baking oven hke a
beehive, haU in one and half in the room next
door. A wide sheU ran from the beehive almost
to the open door. There were two smaU windows,
each about the size of this book wide open.
Jan and Jo sniffed. Where had they smelt that
odour before ?
An old woman in Albanian costume crept up
to Jo and caught her by the skirt.
" See," she said, dragging her into the next
room, " here is a fine bed. The ladies will sleep
with me this night."
Jo looked at the old lady's greasy hair and
filthy raiment.
' We always sleep with our own people," she
said firmly.
The old lady protested. All the while our men
were packing the baggage beneath the shelf. It
was a tight fit, but at last it was got in.
The professor entered once more on the scene.
" This house wiU do very well for the common
people," he said, "but the Herr Commandant"
(meaning Jan) " and the two ladies will come over
to sleep with me."
" No, we won't," said Jan, Jo and Miss Brindley
in one voice.
" Then what will you do ? "
" We will give you two pohcemen, or aU four if
Y

322 THE FLEA-PIT
you like. We will pack in here somehow. You
can take the other house all to yourseU."
" That will not do," said the professor. " If
you are all determined to sleep here, I too, will
come here. You will need somebody to protect
you." Jo's back went up.
" If you are afraid to sleep in the other house,"
she said, " you can sleep here with us. But if you
are coming here to protect us, we don't require
you" " But you do not understand," said the pro
fessor kindly, as if to a child : " there is danger.
You will need me to protect you."
" Not in the least," answered Jo. " If you will
say that you are afraid, we will offer you our shelter.
Otherwise you can have all four pohcemen at the
other house."
The professor was afraid to say that he was
afraid, so after stating that we were curious people,
he went off with the guards.
With great difficulty we packed in. Cutting and
Whatmough were forced to chmb on to the shelf
and the brazier was pushed out of the room. One
by one we rolled up in our rugs, made pillows out
of a pair of boots or a cocoa tin, cursed each other
for taking up so much space, and at last all were
jammed together like sardines. It was hke the

AN ALBANIAN HOUSE 323
family in the drawing: If father says turn, we
all turn. We did not rest well. Thirteen people in a
room which would comfortably hold three was a
httle too close packing. There was a lot of
grumbhng coming from one corner, and after a
while a hght was struck.
"Good lord," said somebody, "my pillow's
crawling ! "
Bugs were cascading down the walls. Stajitch
jumped to his feet, and began stamping hard.
" Rivers of them," he yeUed.
Cutting and Whatmough were groaning about
the heat, so we opened the door. Immediately all
the dogs of the viUage, half wolves, hurled them
selves at the hghted space. Stajitch slammed it
just in time ; had they burst in, lying down as we
were, we should have been unable to protect
ourselves. A dark face peered in between the baking oven
and the waU, a swarthy Albanian face. It looked
at us and then silently withdrew.
" It doesn't matter," said somebody at last,
" we've got to stick it."
We roused up neither rested nor refreshed.
The room seen in the dim hght of the morning
seemed even more revolting than it had been the
night before. We demanded the bill, it was brought

324 THE FLEA-PIT
— five francs for apples which we had bought.
And for the room ? Nothing. We gave our host
three francs extra, and he bowed, putting his hands
to his bosom and kissed our palms.
There was a good stiff clay soil waiting for our
tiring feet, and by the time we reached Berane,
there was no thought of going further. Almost
every one was exhausted.
We reached the shores of the river. The bridge
had been washed away, but the inhabitants had
made a boat hke a sort of huge wooden shoe which
they dragged to and fro with ropes. We clambered
in and were hauled over. Our baggage had not
yet arrived, so Jan and Stajitch ordered lunch for
the others and went down to see about it. Just
as they were landed on the opposite bank the rope
broke. So all the Montenegrins and Albanians
who were working the ferry went off to a midday
meal, leaving the two with the pangs of hunger
growhng within, sitting on the bank.
After two hours' waiting the rope was repaired,
and they got back to lunch famishing. We then
arranged sleeping places and locked up all the
baggage in an empty shop. Our room was one of
those ordinary Montenegrin bedrooms plastered
with pictures. Amongst them was a postcard,
and on it was printed large in Enghsh in blue
crystalline letters, " Never Again."

NEVER AGAIN 325
Whence did it come, this enigmatic postcard,
and what did it mean ? It seemed almost a solemn
warning ; yet in a hotel bedroom. What did the
hostess think it meant ?
" Never Again."
Some of the men came in cheering, having found
Turkish delight in one of the shops. We were
sadly needing sugar, as our last tin had been stolen
along with lots of other things. So we indulged
in " Turkish " not wisely.
The professor got up to his old games again.
Again he had told the commandant that he was
leading the British, and that we would rest the
next day, and again Jan had to pick him off his
perch. Some got a bed that night, the others had to
sleep " in rows," haU under the beds and haU
projecting out. The people on the beds said it was
a funny sight.
When we unpacked at night we found who
had been robbing us. The pohcemen. We had
missed many more things, but found that the
amount varied in direct ratio to the number of
police who guarded us. All our spare boots
were now gone, Blease's overcoat, and also Miss
Brindley's. Jo had lost her only other coat and
skirt, and one or two mackintoshes were missing.
Now we knew why the police wore long-skirted

326 THE FLEA-PIT
coats; but what a disappointment the one must
have had who lifted Jo's coat and skirt.
Got off again in good time the next morning.
Cutting and three others stayed behind to look
after the pohce. Lucky they did, because one of
the horses wore out, and the pohce would have
left it on the road, pack and all. As it was we
left the horse grazing, but the baggage was
transferred. There had been a decentish level road made from
Andrievitza haU way to Berane, and women were
working hard on the extension in the hopes of
getting it finished for the Serbs ; but that they could
never do, for there were but few of them. Further
on many of the bridges were unfinished, and in one
or two places a landshde had carried away the road
itseU, leaving a deep chnging mud in its place, but
we were getting used to mud.
We met " Eyebrows " once more, just at the
entrance to the viUage; but he was going on to
Pod, so had finaUy got a day ahead of us. Found
rooms in our old resting place.
The professor was threatening to accompany us
to Italy — he was hke the old man of the sea. We
got a telegram from the Enghsh Minister, saying
that he did not think we could ever get to Italy
from Scutari. We preferred to trust to our luck
which so far had been wonderful, especially in the

TRANSPORT

327

matter of weather. In the evening the captain
sent to say that twenty horses would await us the
next day. A motor car would have been sent,
he added, but almost all the bridges were washed
away and they could get no nearer than Lie'va
Ri^ka.

CHAPTER XXII
ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
A problem met us in the morning. Willett was
quite iU and only fit for bed. But bed was im
possible. We had just escaped from the sound of
the guns, and did not know which way the Austrians
were coming. To wait was too risky ; others would
certainly get seedy and sooner or later some one
might get seriously ill. We felt we must push
on to Podgoritza and be within hail of doctor and
chemist. But WiUett looked very wretched, lying
flat and refusing breakfast.
We plied him with chlorodyne ; but the chloro-
dyne did not hke him and they parted company.
We tried chlorodyne followed by brandy with better
effect. Others also showed a distinct interest
in the chlorodyne bottle. We felt very anxious :
milk was almost unprocurable, other comforts nil.
We finally decided that if he was going to have
dysentery he had better have it decently and in
order at Podgoritza, than stand the chance of being
suddenly surprised by the Austrians and made to
328

THE START 329
walk endless distances. So we heaved him on to
a wooden pack, and the other chlorodyney figures
of woe climbed on to the remaining queer-looking
saddles. Blease tried a horse which had a thoughtful
eye. It kicked him on the knee, and trod on his
toe, so he rehnquished the joy of riding for the
serener pleasure of walking. Jan clambered on to
it, whereupon it stood on its forelegs, and as there
were no stirrups and the saddle back bit him
behind, he landed over its neck, remaining there
propped up by a stick which was in his hand.
After readjusting himseU inside the two wooden
peaks of the saddle, he testified his disapproval to
the beast, and trotted away in style, leaving a row
of grinning Montenegrins and boys behind with
the exception of one who clung to reins and other
bits of saddlery, imploring him to stop. It would
seem as if pack ponies were never meant to trot,
but at last he shook off the pony boy, passed Miss
Brindley (whose horse was looking at himseU in
a puddle with such deep and concentrated interest
that he puUed her over his head and landed her in
the middle of the water), and reached the vanguard
of the party, who had deserted their horses for a
fift on a lorry — WiUett, sitting in front with the
driver, was shrunk hke a concertina inside his
great coat.

330 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
The lorry dropped us just before the first broken
bridge. Then we had to leave the road and face
mud slush, chmbing for hours. We had picked
up various friends — a courtly old peasant who was
very worried to hear that Kragujevatz had faUen,
and feared for the invasion of Montenegro; two
barefoot girls, who asked Jo aU the usual questions,
and an American-speaking Serbian man who had
trudged from Ipek, the first refugee on that road
from Serbia. He was very mysterious, and contrary
to the usual custom, would not teU us about himseU
nor where he was going.
He was very anxious to stand us drinks, but
curiously enough, every one refused. The professor
had started before us, with a Greek priest. When
we passed him he hfted his hands deprecatingly,
" Teshko." Our hopes of arriving before dark were as
usual crushed. The dusk found us stui flounder
ing in the mud on wayside paths. It began
to pour. The hiUs above us became white — a
straight hne being drawn between snow and rain —
and our guides wanted us to spend the night at
an inn two hours before we reached Jabooka.
But it looked very uninviting — we remembered
the cheery hostess of Jabooka, the woman who
came from " other parts," and knew a thing or two
about cleanhness. Every one agreed to go on.

JABOOKA 331
WiUett was rather better, so we forged ahead in
the downpour and the dark, splashing through
puddles and singing everything we knew. Our
Albanian guides chuckled and chanted their own
nasal songs in a different key as an accompaniment.
Far away we saw a tiny fight — Jabooka. We
stretched our legs and hurried along, but alas!
the inn room was fuU. There was the professor,
his face shining from warmth and weU-being, crowds
of men in uniform, some fat travelhng civilians:
faces looked up from the floor, from the corners,
faces were everywhere, wet boys were steaming
in front of the fire, while the hostess and a girl
were picking their way as best they could in the
tobacco smoke with eggs and rakia.
FuU ; even the floor ! and we were wet through.
The professor had announced that we were staying
at the dirty inn away back. Oh, the old viUain !
He came forward, saying in an impressive
voice that a major had taken the inn.
"Bother the major," said Jo. "Something
must be done."
The professor smiled. " There is another inn."
There was nothing for it. We had to go to the
inn across the road, glad enough to have a roof at
all. The rain was tearing down as if the heavens
were filled with fire-engines.
But they didn't want us there. We beheld

332 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
a dirty low-ceiled room filled with filthy people and
a smeU of wet unwashed clothes.
The owner and his wife received us roughly.
" We have no room, we have nothing," they said.
We stood our ground. " We must have a roof
to-night." Outside the road had become a river, our men
were nearly dropping with fatigue.
" You can't come here," said the innkeeper,
looking at us with great distrust.
The major, whom Jo had " bothered," came
in. " You must take these people," he said, and
asked various searching questions about the rooms.
Reluctantly the truth came out that if the whole
family slept in one room there would be one for us.
The major ordered them to do it. Jo wished
she hadn't " bothered " him quite so gruffly.
The daughters stamped about, furiously pulling
all the blankets off the two beds, while one of
them stood in the doorway watching us to see
that we did not secrete the greasy counterpanes.
Several of the party sat, hair on end, with staring
eyes, too tired to shut them.
" Food ? "
" Nema Nishta," was the response.
" Can we boil water ? "
" No."
" Where can we boil it ? "

UNWELCOME GUESTS 333
" Nowhere."
" But there is a fire in the kitchen," we said,
pointing to a hooded fireplace where a few sticks
were burning.
" Why shouldn't they boil water ? " said a kindly
looking man.
' WeU, I suppose they can," said the old
woman, who became almost pleasant over the
kitchen fire — telling Jo she was sixty and only a
stara Baba (old granny).
Miss Brindley made tea. We cheered as she
brought it in. Tea, bully beef, and our last biscuits
comprised our dinner, which we ate in big gulps,
after which we sang " Three bhnd mice " as a
digestive. The haU-open door was full of peering faces, so
somewhat encouraged we gave them a selection
of rounds. We left next morning early in a heavy downpour,
after being exorbitantly charged, glad to leave
Jabooka for ever.
The professor was before us, an aged red Riding
Hood, clad in his scarlet blanket. The day was
long and uneventful. Trudge, trudge, splash, splash.
The dividing hne between snow and rain still was
heavily marked, but it sleeted and our hands were
quite numbed. We crossed an angry stream on a
greasy pole and most of us splashed in. Whatmough

334 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
stood in the water, remarking, " I'm wet and
I'll get no wetter," and helped people across.
Again after dark we arrived at Lieva Rieka, to find
our dirty old inn again ; but it had a real iron stove
which gave out a glorious heat, and we crowded
around in the ill-lit room, clouds of steam arising
from us. We tried to dry our stockings against
the stove pipe, but the old mother did not approve.
She was afraid of fire. When she ran out of the
room, socks were pressed surreptitously against
the pipe with a " sizz," and when she returned,
innocent looking people were standing against the
wall, no socks to be seen.
The eldest daughter settled down with her head
in Jo's lap, having failed to get Miss Brindley
alongside. She gazed longingly at Miss Brindley
from Jo's lap, and asking for aU the data possible
as to her hfe.
" A devoika (girl), free, travelhng from a
country so far away that it would take three months
in an oxcart to get there."
"Oh, how wonderful!"
They gave us a tiny room and two benches —
much too small for the whole company; so some
slept outside on the balcony.
The professor was in the adjoining inn, so we
guessed it must be the best ; but a young French
sailor, from the wireless in Podgoritza, who came

LIEVA RIEKA TO POD 335
to gossip with us, said there was nothing to
choose. He was champing, as the Government were
commandeering the wireless company's motor
cars right and left using them to cart benzine ; and
now they were going to send a refugee Serb officer's
family to Podgoritza in his motor, leaving him
sitting. We spent the next morning waiting for the
motor, not knowing if it would arrive or no. The
professor saUed away in the French one, being one
up on us again. It still rained, so we sat con
templating the possibihties of lunch. No sooner
was it on the boil than the biggest automobile
in Montenegro, a covered lorry, turned up.
We persuaded the driver to lunch with us, and
packed ourselves and our dingy packages on to
the wet floor. The motor buzzed up and downhill,
incessantly twisting and turning : what we could
see of the view from the back waved to and fro
like Alpine scenery seen in the cinematograph.
Stajitch became violently seasick with the fumes
of benzine, which arose from two big tanks we
were taking along, and lay with his head lolling
miserably out of the back of the car.
Pod once more, sleepy, inhospitable Pod.
We bargained for rooms at our old inn — mixed
beds and floors. The owner was asking more than

336 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
ever ; he shrugged his shoulders and raised his
hands. " The war — increasing prices."
So we took what we could, put Stajitch to bed,
saw the prefect, our old friend from Chainitza,
who promised us a carriage for Cettinje in the
morning. Miss Brindley, joyfuUy ready to see Cettinje
and anything else that might turn up, joined Jo and
Jan in the old shandrydan carriage which lumbered
along for seven hours to Cettinje.
' We are going to find Turkish delight," said
the others, as they disappeared down a side street,
revelhng in the idea of a rest.
Cettinje was inches deep in water. We assured
the Count de Sahs that much as we needed money
to continue the journey, we needed baths more.
This was a weighty matter and needed much
thinking out, petroleum being very scarce. The
huge empty Legation kitchen stove was ht and upon
it were placed all the kettles, saucepans, and empty
tins in the place; the picturesque old baggy-breeched
porter, his wife, and httle boy stoking hard, and
asking lots of questions. One by one we were
ushered into a room, not the bathroom but a room
containing the sort of comfortable bath which makes
the least water go the longest way, and also a
beautiful hot stove. This solemn rite occupied

THE BATH 337
a whole afternoon. We had not taken our clothes
off for sixteen days and had been in the dirtiest
of places. A change of underclothing was effected.
None too soon ! for at Lieva Rieka we had picked
up hee. We compared notes on this part afterwards.
" Happy hunting ? " we inquired like Mowgh's
friends. It was good to sit by the big kitchen
stove holding bits of dripping clothing to the
blaze ; the downfall at Cettinje the evening
before having completely drenched our damp
tilings again.
Next day outside the world was white and
silent, the snow covering the little city and its
intrigues with a thick whitewash.
The minister was the kindest of hosts and could
not do enough for us during our stay. Cettinje
had not changed much. The hotel-keeper showed
an intense and violent anxiety to leave Montenegro.
Never had his native Switzerland seemed so
aUuring and never was it so unattainable. The
chemist, who owned a little one-windowed shop,
was engaged to the king's niece, quite a lift in
the world for her, as she was marrying a man
of education. Penwiper, the dog, was stiU in sole possession
of the street, and again went mad with joy at the
sound of Enghsh women's voices, and accompanied

338 ANDRIEVITZA TO POD
us everywhere, generally upside-down in the snow,
clutching our skirts with her teeth.
Jan was in and out of the Transport Office
door while Miss Brindley and Jo were being fol
lowed around the streets by a jeering crowd of
children, who seemed to think that Miss Brindley's
india-rubber boot-top leggings and Jo's corrugated
stockings and safety-pinned-up skirt out of place.
We bought some bags from a woman we after
wards heard was suspected of being an Austrian
spy- Poor old Prenk Bib Doda was in our hotel.
He was Prince of the Miridites. As a boy he
had been kidnapped by the Turks and haled off
to Constantinople. Grown to a middle-aged man
in captivity, he was restored to his tribes during
the Young Turk Revolution, only to be abducted
by the Montenegrins, and to be kept practicaUy a
prisoner in Cettinje. We don't know if he disliked
it, possibly not, for his walk in fife seems to be that
of a professional hostage, if one may say so. His
ideals of comfort were certainly nearer to the
cabarets in Berhn, than to the wild orgies of his
own subjects. In fact he was civilized.
A passage across the Adriatic seemed pro
blematic. The Transport Minister hoped we might
catch a ship that had tried to leave Scutari three
times, but had always been thrown on the beach

JO SEEDY 339
by storms. The great difficulty was crossing
the lake of Scutari. One steamer had been
mysteriously sunk and another damaged. He
promised to arrange a motor for us directly he
should be able to put his hand on a boat to take
us across the lake.
Jan and Jo simultaneously began to wish they
had not eaten sardines at Rieka. The attack
was very violent, and next day Jo stayed in bed,
refusing the page boy's efforts to tempt her with
lunch. " See," he said, bearing in a third dish,
" Enghsh, your i riss Akew."
Jo pretended to be pleased, and made Jan
eat the Irish stew after his lunch, so that the
page boy's feehngs should not be hurt.
Suddenly word came from the Transport
Minister that a carriage was coming for us. We
were to go to Pod, and pick up the others. So
Jo stopped tying herself into knots and had to get
up and go. We arrived at Pod to find everybody
iU. Two days' sedentary life and Turkish delight
were responsible for this. We suggested castor oil.
One had just missed pleurisy— Whatmough had
acted as nurse.
The professor had been trying to pump Stajitch
as to our future plans, as he was again alone and
rudderless. Stajitch said —

340

ANDRIEVITZA TO POD

" Mr. and Mrs. Gordon alone know, and they are
in Cettinje." " Now that's not kind to keep a feUow country
man in the dark," said the professor.
Stajitch assured him he knew nothing ; but the
professor walked away, murmuring that the Enghsh
were undermining a good Serb boy's character.
And that was the last of the professor.

CHAPTER XXIII
INTO ALBANIA
We caught the mayor in the morning. He was in
his shirt-sleeves and he said that the auto had been
arranged for. It came and we packed in. On
the back perched a boy who outsmelt any Serb
we had ever found. It seemed impossible that a
human could so smell and yet five. Suddenly
the boy drew a packet from bis pocket and the smell
became intolerable. He unwrapped a piece of cheese
and, gasping for breath, we watched it disappear.
When it had gone we breathed more freely, but the
odour stiU clung to the youth, and we were not
sorry when the auto pulled up at the village of
Plavnitza on the edge of the lake. A man, who
said that he had been sent to help us, dragged us
to the telephone office. He worried the instrument
for a while and announced that the boat would be
here in two hours. It would have come earlier,
but somehow they couldn't make steam get up.
We expected it to come in four, and so went off to
get something to eat. 341

342 INTO ALBANIA
The lake was very high, coming right up to the
road. All the low fields were covered with water
as far as one could see. The girl at the inn was
shuddering and shivering with malaria, and we
give her some quinine. At last the steamer
came. We had to pack into one of those cockhat boats,
as the quay was separated from the village by haU
a mile of water. When we got to the steamer, the
captain leaned over the side and shouted —
" Where are the mattresses ? "
" What mattresses ? " said the harbour-master.
" When are you going to start ? " demanded we,
clambering on board.
" When I get the mattresses," said the captain.
" But what mattresses ? " rephed the harbour
master. " I was sent to get mattresses," said the captain,
" and here I wait till they come."
This was a nuisance, nobody had said anything
about the mattresses.
" I shan't go tiU to-morrow anyhow," said the
skipper. " I think we'd all better go back to Podgoritza
and come again to-morrow," said the man in
charge. ' We don't move from here," said Jo, firmly.
" If he won't go we'll sit on this boat — which was

A SHELTER 343
sent for us — and sing songs all night so that he
shan't sleep."
The captain refused to move without the
mattresses and we refused to go back, so a violent
argument ensued. We remained adamant. At
last in despair the harbour master said that he would
go and telephone. Night was coming on, the deck
was chiUy, so Jan went to explore. The quay was
haU under water, but by jumping from stone to
stone one could get about, and Jan discovered an
entrance into the stone storehouse. The door was
boarded up, but he forced his way in, discovering
a huge empty interior banked up well above the
water. At one end was a platform made of boards
on tubs. An ideal bed. He called the company
and they arranged themselves on the planks,
though some were dismayed at the prospect of
getting no supper. The boards were loose and as
each took his place they bobbed up and down.
Miss Brindley said that it seemed hke sleeping
on the keyboard of a piano. We did not expect
to see anything before morning of the harbour
master or of Stajitch who had gone with him ;
but just as we were settled and beginning to snore
and the rats were running about, Stajitch poked
his head through the window and said that the
boat was going immediately. We reluctantly got
up, for we were really rather cosy, packed again

344 INTO ALBANIA
and hopped in the moonhght from stone to stone
till we got to the ship — which was the same old
Turkish gunboat on which we had travelled once
before. The thing was then explained — a tele
graphic mistake. The captain had been ordered
to fetch the strangers : but strangers and mattresses
are only one letter different, " n " or " m," this
letter had been transposed.
Luckily it was a beautiful moonhght night.
The lake was wonderfuUy romantic. A fat Serbian
captain, who seemed to know Stajitch, made a
request. He said that he had been cut off
from his division, which was at Monastir, and
that he was going to try and rejoin them.
He ask us if he could join our party, as it
would come cheaper at the hotels and he could
get transport.
It was pretty cold on the lake, but we wrapped
ourselves in our blankets and said the view was
lovely. Hunger was also gnawing within us,
so we were glad when at last the rumbling old
engines halted and the steamer gave three hoots.
We waited anxiously, and at last a large rowboat
came sideways against the steamer. Four car
riages were waiting in the bazaar. A very pohte
Montenegrin doctor welcomed us at the hotel and
we got some much desired food.
Bed was beginning to be a mere commonplace

THE "MAISON PIGET" 345
now, but we enjoyed it for all that, and slept well
into the morning.
Scutari wore its usual air of " the ballet " when
we arose. The ladies dressed all in their best
clothes, and with great flowing veils and wide
skirted coats were hobbling to church. The
shopkeepers, with their long black and white legs
and coloured shirts, were lounging about the low
counters of their shops, smoking and drinking
coffee brought them (on httle swinging trays) by
boys. The British consul had taken up his quarters
at the " Maison Piget." The house was gated,
as are aU Albanian houses, but this gate was hke
an old feudal portal. The doors were wonderfully
carved and were opened by our old friend the
WoU. We had thought him to be a servant of
Suma's, but it appeared that he belonged to the
British Empire.
The house was crammed full of arms : a Uttle
cannon threatened us on the stairway, swords,
claymores, creeses, falchions, scimitars, glaives,
dirks, and yatagans were nailed on all the walls, and
there were muskets of every sort and size, heavy
arquebuses from the north and gas-pipe guns and
Arab horsemen firelocks with pohshed stocks hke
the handle of a corkscrew, all inlaid with gold,
silver, and mother-of-pearl.

346 INTO ALBANIA
' Yes," said the consul, gazing reflectively,
" he had a taste for weapons. And also for old
cookery books."
The consul said that he thought that there was
a boat at San Giovanni. We cheered, for our luck
seemed to be holding, and while he went off to the
Itahan consul we went to the governor to beg for
transport. Neither consul nor governor was in,
but we caught the Itahan consul in the afternoon.
He admitted that there was a boat, but warned
us that it was no nosegay. He said that two
Frenchmen who had thought of taking it had sent
him back a telegram which had quite unnerved
him. " Et je n'ai jamais dit qu'elle etait une Trans-
atlantique," he said, waving his arms.
He said that the archbishop had told him that
a party of Enghsh had come into the town last
night, " en haillons," but that he had not beheved
it possible. However, he had seen two of us in
the street that morning, and had reahzed that it
was true.
We said that any boat would do. He warned
us of the danger of submarines.
At the consul's house we found the captain of
the Miridites awaiting us. He was a heavy-looking
man with European clothes and a fez. After the
ceremonious coffee he made a set speech, saying

THE ARCHBISHOP 347
that he was paying his duties to the great British
Empire, and that England was their only hope.
The consul sat rather wishing that he wouldn't,
and that his servant had said that he was not at
home. In common with most of the Christian
rulers of Albania this gentleman seemed to have
spent most of his time in exile.
Returning to the hotel Jan found that Jo
had been purchasing, and he dragged her and Miss
Brindley off to see the archbishop. The cathedral
stiU carries the scars of the first bombardment.
The archbishop, a large flat man, gave us each a
hand as though he expected us to kiss it ; he had
a huge archiepispocal ring and a lot of imperiosity.
He seemed more pohtical than bishopy, though
most of the Churchmen are ; and there is the
tale of one who said, " I would rather people
went to drill than to church." There were a
lot of wealthy looking Albanians sitting round
and being respectable. The archbishop spoke no
French nor German, only Itahan. But Jan, with
the help of a lot of old musical terms, and an im
perfectly forgotten Spanish, managed to convey to
him some intelligible compUments and sentences.
We got out at last, and his eminence accompamed
us to the top of the stairs and gave us the difficult
problem of bowing backwards as we went down.
This visit was necessary, as we might have had to

348 INTO ALBANIA
get a " Besa " from him if we meant to go through
to Durazzo. The Serbian captain who had been on the
Turkish gunboat met us in the street. He dragged
us into a cafe and began to order beer by the half-
dozen. He presented Jo with a small Turkish gold
coin, which was valued at five shillings, as a bribe to
allow him to join our party. As he already had
permission it seemed superfluous.
Some of our party were still pretty seedy.
Two had gone to a shop in search of castor oil.
A very old and withered chemist, who spoke bad
French, invited them in and asked for an account
of their adventures, interrupting them with ex
plosions of " Ah poves, poves, poves, poves."
" Ah, poves, poves, poves, poves," between every
incident and also at the final request for the medi
cine. He showed them to the door and suddenly
burst into unexpected Enghsh.
" Good naite, vairey good. I am your poppa."
In the hotel cafe we found two French
aeroplanists, for four had arrived that day, saihng
down over the city, to the great terror of the in
habitants. They seemed to be afflicted with the
same idea as " Quel Pays."
" Ah, monsieur et dame," said they, " quel
pays." We asked them how things were.

FRENCH AEROPLANISTS 349
' We have just come from Prizren. The Serbs
are in a dreadful condition. All the roads are
covered with starving and dying people. The troops
are eating dead horses and roots. There have been
violent snow blizzards all over the mountains. We
saw some of your people, too, doctors and nurses,
they were going off to Ipek, ' dans une condition
deplorable.' We came across the mountains ; one
of us is lost. Awful country, nowhere to land if
anything went wrong and one of our machines
has not arrived. God knows what has happened
to them. The rest of us are all coming along on
foot. We burnt fifty motor cars yesterday,
monsieur, that made a blaze."
We asked them what sort of a time they had
had in Serbia; but much of their answer is un-
pubhshable. " Each time we ascended every Serbian regiment
fired at us. Once we came down over a battahon
and the whole lot fired volleys, and when we landed
and stood in front of our machine holding up our
hands," they pantomimed, " they continued to
fire at us. Then they came and took us prisoners,
and were going to shoot us, although one of us had
a mihtary medal. A schoolmaster recognised us as
French and rescued us. Our machine was broken ;
but we could get no transport and had to walk
thirty kilometres back to our base without food.

350 INTO ALBANIA
" Another time we were chasing an Austrian,
the Serbian batteries fired at us, monsieur, not at
the enemy. Our officers had to send from the
aerodrome to tell them to stop."
As we were going to bed the Montenegrin doctor
came in.
" I am sent by the governor, monsieur," said
he. " We do not consider it safe, this boat idea.
Austrian submarines are everywhere, and the
governor would feel it as a personal responsibihty
if you were drowned. We will provide carriages
to Alessio and thence arrange horses — only one
day and a half on to Durazzo. Thence Essad
Pasha will give you his motor boat and you can
easily get to Valona."
Our men groaned at the thought of more
journeying. They were all thoroughly fed up with
the road, though personally we rather hked the
idea. We had heard that Durazzo was very
interesting, and would have hked to have met
Essad, though we did not know just how his
pohtics were trending. We decided to see the
Itahan consul once more.
Next day we hunted up the mayor, Mahram Beg,
a Turk, for he also could give us a " Besa " if
necessary. He was at last discovered, a httle
crumpled looking man in an office. We were
not allowed to interview him in private, but a

THE ADRIATIC COMMISSION 351
Montenegrin was there and all conversation had to
pass by him fike through an imperfect telephone.
We gave the mayor a greeting from Colonel P 
and httle else. A very disappointing interview.
Jan went off to see the governor, who received
him kindly. He said that he would arrange
everything, but that it was difficult for him with
the Itahan consul, as the Powers did not recognize
the Montenegrin occupation.
' You see, monsieur, here I am the law, and yet
the law does not recognize me."
The Italian assured us that the Montenegrins
were wrong, and that of course the boat would be
escorted, and the danger reduced to its least possible
amount. Just after we had left him we heard two
things which made us jump.
A body of Enghsh officers had landed at Medua,
and ninety Enghsh refugees from Serbia were
en route for Scutari. Could we not catch the
transport and at the same time leave room for the
others ? Suma came in, and we consulted him.
He was doubtful if the horses could be got at
Alessio for us.
" You see, it is Albania and not Montenegro,"
he repeated. We accordingly hunted up the doctor. He
promised us horses for the morrow. The carriages
had all gone to fetch the Enghsh officers. We asked

352 INTO ALBANIA
him about Alessio, and he assured us that the
telephone message had been received saying that
they were waiting. We asked him several times
until he grew angry and said —
" Do you doubt my honour, then ? "
Before we went to bed the hotel proprietor
came to us.
" Do you pay or the Government ? " asked he ;
and seemed very reheved when we told him that
we paid. The Montenegrins are neither loved nor
trusted here.
The next morning the horses came, but very
late. In the crowd watching our departure was
an old Albanian without a moustache. That was
a strange sight ; we looked harder. It was a woman.
She must have been one of those who had sworn
eternal virginity, and so achieve all a man's
privileges, even eating with them instead of getting
the scraps left over from the meal. But the punish
ment of death awaited her if she failed her vow.
Here was one, chuckhng and grinning at some of
us in our attempts to mount the weird saddles and
weirder steeds which had been provided. The
Serb captain had a carriage, and another carriage
took aU our baggage, which had now sadly
dwindled owing to the continued depredations of
the pohce. We straggled out of the town and
through the crowded bazaar, for it was a Saturday.

THE ADRIATIC COMMISSION 353
Passed the Venetian fort and the river from which
stuck the funnel of the steamer so mysteriously
sunk one night. We had heard that the Turkish
gun flat which had transported us had burst her
boilers, so now the Montenegrins had no steamers
left. The road was level and better than many we had
come over, though once or twice the carriages were
hopelessly mired, and had to be pushed across.
West's horse had ideas about side streets, and
bolted down each as he came to it.
We met the Adriatic Commission. Mr. Lamb
and Mr. George Paget, returning after so long an
absence, were in the first carriage. We recognized
Mr. Paget at once, for though either of them might
have hked old arms, only one would have collected
old cookery books. The rest of the commission
came along later. They stopped us. We ex
pected questions about the Serbs ; but no. They
said —
" Can one buy underclothing in Scutari ? "
Their baggage transport had been sunk by an
Austrian submarine and they had only what they
were wearing. We wished each other luck and
went on. There was no hope of arriving at Alessio
that night, we had started too late. As evening
was faUing, we came to an Albanian inn and decided
to put up. 2 A

354 INTO ALBANIA
There was a stable full of manure on the ground
floor, through which one had to pass, and in the
dark one was continually shpping into the midden
or running one's head unexpectedly into horses'
hindquarters. Up a rickety stair were two rooms.
The floor rocked as we walked over it, and every
moment we expected to go through and be pre
cipitated into the manure below. The walls and
floor were so loosely made that the wind blew
through in all directions, and we caUed it the
" castle in the air." We supped on chickens which
we had brought from Scutari, and Whatmough
and Elmer made a fire in the yard and got us cocoa.
By this time we were aU getting fed up with
romantic surroundings, and wanted something
more sohd. The swarthy countenances about the
bonfire, the queer costumes in the flickering fire,
left us unmoved.
Sleep was impossible. The wind caught one
in every corner, threatening lumbago. Stajitch
fled and camped outside in one of the carriages,
despite the rain.
We started as early as possible — dawn. What
mough, Cutting, Jo and Jan lost the road, but
were eventually rescued by a pohceman. About
eleven one of the carriages broke down, and we
had to repair it with tree and wire. Here the
houses were again hke fortresses, and everybody

Ai.iianiax Mile Drivers Camping

THE MOTOR BOAT 355
stared at us as though we came from the
moon. We reached the bank opposite Alessio — a small
Turkish-looking viUage divided between a mud-
bank and a hillside. We were about to turn over
the bridge when news was brought that a motor-
boat belonging to Essad was in San Giovanni
harbour. We sent a pohceman galloping on to
stop it, and foUowed as fast as our meagre horses
would allow. We also heard that a submarine
had been in the port the day before and had
tried to torpedo the ships lying there — but had
missed. We cantered on, pressing along a stony road
which was almost level with the salt marshes on
either side. San Giovanni appeared after about
an hour and a haU. We rode down on to the beach.
The motor-boat was getting up anchor. We
yelled to the skipper, but he understood no Serb ;
so we translated through a Turk who was lounging
about. The skipper said that he could not embark
us there as it was Montenegrin territory, but that
if we would go back to Alessio he would wait for
us at the mouth of the river and take us down that
very night. This seemed too good to be true and
we hurried back, passing an Austrian torpedo
which had run up on the brown sand— a present
from yesterday's raid. We turned the others and

356 INTO ALBANIA
cantered ahead to get a boat ; reached the bridge
once more and crossed into Albania. Officials ran
from aU sides to stop us, but we ignored them, dis
mounted, and ran to the side of the river where
boats were loading, overloading with passengers.
The boatmen refused to take us if we had no passes
from the governor.
We hunted the governor's office up the hillside,
panting in our haste. We burst in upon him. He
was a dirty man in an unclean shirt and unkempt
trousers. " We want to go by the motor-boat," we
explained. ' Who are you ? " he asked, picking his
teeth. " We are the Enghsh about whom the governor
of Scutari has telegraphed."
" I don't know anything about you," he said.
His manner was ungracious.
" But," we said, " they assured us that they had
telegraphed from Scutari."
The telegraph clerk was brought, and denied
that any message had come.
" Anyhow," said the governor, " the motor-
boat is for Albanian soldiers only, and has gone
twenty minutes ago. I can do nothing for you
without authority from Durazzo."
We wandered dismaUy back through the

FLEAS AND RICE 357
town and were immediately arrested by the bridge
officials because we had not paid the toll rates. We
paid double to get rid of them.
We found an inn. It was the usual sort of
building only of stone, and so dirtier than the
others. Some travelhng show seemed to have left
its scenery in heu of its bill, for bits of painted canvas
did duty as partitions.
There was a room with six beds, but one was
reserved for an Albanian officer. We took the rest.
We loitered about all the afternoon, and in the
evening the Albanian officer came in. He was a
beaky-faced, unpleasant-looking man, but he
procured us some bread, which we sorely lacked.
The hotel had httle food, so we gave them our
rice. By this time fleas had got into it, and seeming
to hke it had bred in quantities. Still as we had
nothing else it had to be cooked, and we picked out
the boiled fleas as well as we were able. The
Serbian captain started drinking with the Albanian,
and soon both were well over the edge of sobriety.
They came up long after we had turned in, fell
over Cutting, who cursed them without stint, and
tumbled on to the beds which we had left for them.
The Albanian made some remarks about the ladies,
which from the tone were insults; but we were
unable to chastize him, or we should all have been
put into prison.

358

INTO ALBANIA

They snored and coughed all night, and spat
about in the dark. Those who were sleeping near
cowered beneath the mackintosh sheets and prayed
for luck. But in the morning we found that they
had been spitting on the waU.

CHAPTER XXIV
" ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS "
The Mayor of Alessio had said that there were lots
of horses, if we had Essad's permission ; but the
Turkish captain said that there were none, only at
San Giovanni were they to be found. It was pelting
with rain, but Blease and we decided to walk over
to explore for ourselves. Jan first wrote a very
stiff letter to the Governor of Scutari about the
non-arrival of the telegram, and off we went, having
borrowed oilskins and sou'westers. The Serb
captain insisted on coming with us.
In haU an hour the storm had made the stony
road into a series of deep ponds which nearly
joined each other, so Jo tucked her now ragged
skirt into a bright woven Serbian belt and walked
along with the water streaming from coat to boots.
It became rather a pleasure to splash through ten-
inch deep puddles, knowing that one could not
possibly get any wetter, and this joy was intensified
by the knowledge that the Serbian captain was
being soaked and didn't hke it.
359

360 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
San Giovanni consists of a series of huts, each
hke Burns' birthplace, grouped on the shelving side
of a stony chff. The bay itseU is semi-circular,
with a long cape jutting out to the south, the
extremity of which almost always is floating in
the air, owing to the mirage. In the bay were two
rusty steamers — one the Benedetto, which had been
promised to us by the Itahan governor — several
old wooden sailers, and a lot of smallish fishing
smacks very brightly painted and with raised poop
and prow. A group of Albanians were toiling at
sacks which cumbered the httle wooden jetty.
We immediately hunted out Captain Fabiano,
the Itahan commander of the wireless telegraph,
and found him in a little house at the northern
horn of the bay. He received us gaily. He spoke
an excellent French, so that the Serbian captain
could not butt in and interfere, as was his habit.
Fabiano said that it would take a long time to get
a wire to Brindisi, where we had heard were several
ships of the Enghsh fleet, very bored and craving
for something to do ; we had hoped to get into
communication with them. Then Jan had a brain
wave. " Is not the wind good for Durazzo ? " asked he.
" Splendid," said Fabiano, " and no submarines
to-day." " Could we not get a fishing boat ? "

THE TRANSPORT 361
" I will send and see."
While we were waiting he told us that he was
sheltering the crew of the ship which had been
transporting the Enghsh mission's Mt. The captain
of the httle transport had set fire to the benzine
which his boat was carrying, which act so enraged
the submarine captain that he fired three torpedoes
into her, and afterwards mounted his conning
tower and fired ten full clips from his revolver at
the swimming men. Luckily revolver shooting
requires much practice. The men had clung to
an overturned boat and had all eventually reached
shore, after which they had to march a day and
a haU without boots or food, often fording
rivers which came to their waists. Fabiano said
that he was going to send them home on the
Benedetto. The captain of the port sent back word that we
could have a boat immediately — much to Fabiano's
surprise. But most of the party were at Alessio.
We hurried off to see the captain of the port.
Explanations, certainly when the luggage came ;
and off went Jan with a guide to get pack ponies.
Halfway back to Alessio was the stable, but the
steeds were not ready, so Jan was ushered up into
a top room where was a huge fire, over which an
Albanian was stewing a cormorant with all its
feathers on. There were other Albanians and a

362 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
very old Montenegrin soldier. He admired every
thing J Enghsh, even Jan's tobacco which he had
bought in Pod.
We got to Alessio and packed everything
hurriedly, paid the bill, tipped an old soldier two
dinars, and off. As we passed over the bridge the
clerk came running behind us. We had not paid
the bridge fees, he said.
" How much ? " asked Jan.
He hesitated.
" Two dinars," said he. He had been talking
to the soldier.
Meanwhile Jo and Blease had found refuge in the
house of the mihtary commandant. It was a hovel
hke all the houses, but they were given a huge log
fire which was built on the mud floor. Their
stockings were soon hanging on a hne above the
blaze, and their shins were scorching, while they
drank wonderful liqueur which was hospitably
poured out by the beautiful old host.
Turkish coffee was prepared for them by a
soldier in a bursting French fireman's uniform.
The captain's fire was the rendezvous of the
village. Amiable and picturesque people came in
and talked about the unhealthiness of the place,
the relative bravery of nations with a special
reference to the courage of Montenegrins, and about
the submarine raid and of how the Austrian captain

EXCUSES 363
had repeatedly fired his revolver at the sailors of
the boat he had sunk while they were swimming
in the water. Their eyes were streaming, not with
emotion, but because in Montenegro one has no
chimneys. At dusk the rest of us arrived. The port captain
said " To-morrow," so we climbed up to the inn,
examined the stores, a few tins of tunny, mackerel,
and milk, and the thirteen made the best of the
bar-room floor for the night, booted and ready in
case a transport for the Benedetto should arrive.
In the morning the captain said we could have
the boat that night, and in the evening he said we
could have it in the morning. His excuse was that
the Borra was blowing its hardest, and no sailor
could be found to venture out; but Fabiano said
that this was not true.
The real reason was the sleek Austrian torpedo
lying on the beach, for the Dulcinos are famed on
the Adriatic coast because of their timidity.
Time passed drearily. The only amusement
we had was to go and annoy the captain of the
port by asking when we could have a boat. The
wind was too cold for constitutionals, and we
piled on aU our clothes and sat on our knapsacks in
the bar-room — for there was no fire — and talked
wistfuUy of sausages, Yorkshire Rehsh and under
done beefsteaks.

364 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
We had much time for meditation, and pon
dered over the downfall of Serbia. Why had
the Serbian Government so resolutely refused
to make any territorial concessions to Bulgaria,
when it was obvious that the entry of Bulgaria
into the conflict meant the ruin of Serbia ? Why
had they permitted the Austrians to build their
big gun emplacements on the Danube without
interruption ? Why had they not withdrawn to
the hills and then built proper defences with barbed
wire entanglements and labyrinths ? for properly
entrenched they might have defied the Austro-
German forces for months. Some day, perhaps,
these questions may have to be answered.
One day a party came in. They had passed
through Vrntze much later than we, and we heard
that Dr. Berry and an assistant had been seen
hurriedly naihng boards on to the slaughter-house
roof. They, too, had come by the Novi Bazar
route. They said that the other routes were deep
in snow and that the sufferings of the army were
terrible. That a great portion had been hemmed
in at Prizren, and that the Bulgars had
shelled the passes so that they could not escape.
They themselves had escaped the advancing
Austrians by the skin of their teeth owing to
good horses.
The snow came down, driving along the valleys

UNLOADING THE *' BENEDETTO, SAN GIOVANNI DI MEDUA.

THE WIRELESS 365
and whitening all the hills; the cold grew more
intense, and the desire for Enghsh beefsteaks
became an obsession : one talked of httle else — or
of Christmas. Food was becoming scarce. The
tinned mackerel was diminishing ; some days we
had no bread. We walked once as far as Fabiano's
wireless. The men were hving in a shed made of
wattle, and the Borra whistled through the cracks.
There was a stove round which we sat while the
men gave us tea ; but the warmth it induced in
one's face only intensified the feehng of cold on
the back. Outside in the snow was a long-distance
telescope, and peering through one could see the
conning tower of the Austrian submarine, a faint
hump on the sea by the southernmost point. As
we returned to the cold hotel we passed the Monte
negrin batteries : cannon too small to be of any use
and the gunners of which were all so iU that they
could not handle them.
Two Frenchmen had been in San Giovanni for
ten days, and their anxiety to go was up to fever
point. They took it in turns to stand " pour
observer," wrapped up to their noses, in a doorway,
watching the Benedetto in case she should give them
the shp. We caUed them Tweedledum and
Tweedledee. One night somebody rushed up to their room.
Booted, they jumped out of bed, and ran about

366 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
overhead. We thirteen scrambled up and intercepted
them between the stairs and the door. " Pour
observer, steam-funnel," they shouted, and dis
appeared into the night, followed by their valet
with two hold-alls. They soon came back, very
cold, and announced that steam had been seen
issuing from the Benedetto's funnel. They had
rushed to it in an open boat, and had learnt that
the Benedetto was ordered to be in readiness. She
fumed quietly for three days, and then was com
mandeered by the Serbian Government.
One day we saw a French aeroplane, an old
friend of ours. Immediately every one working
in the port tore up hill, men jumped off the big
boats into httle ones and rowed hke a cinemato
graph turned double speed.
The commandant roared reassuringly from his
attic window, and an officer tried to beat the men
back. Seeing us convulsed with laughter, they
turned sheepishly ; but the httle boats wagged on,
people jumping into the water as they neared shore.
" Come and sit round my fire," said the com
mandant. So we again imbibed coffee and dis
cussed courage. It was explained to us that none
of the men in the boats were Montenegrins, and
we pohtely agreed.
Hearing that a Red Cross party was in the village
people came and asked for medical aid. We

THE BARRACKS 367
explained that we had no doctors, but they begged
us to come and see the invahds.
Doctors and chemists were unobtainable, and
soldiers were dying every day.
We had no hesitation in tackling the Monte
negrin soldiers, for at least we could do no harm,
considering that our whole pharmacopoeia was a
fittle boracic, some bismuth capsules, Epsom salts,
quinine, iodine, and one of the party owned a bottle
of some patent unknown stuff, against fever and
many other ailments.
We were first taken to the barracks in the
evening, scrambling up a stony hill. The building
looked hke the disreputable ruins of somebody's
" FoUy." Half the roof was off, and the walls
were full of holes. We stumbled up some black
steps and entered a huge dark barn with four
log fires down the centre of the room.
Round these were huddled crowds of men.
They pulled some rough planks out of a hole in
the wall to let in the sunset hght, and the icy Borra
rushed in, playing with the smoke and setting the
men to coughing. Here and there on the ground
were long mounds, covered completely with rough
hand-woven rugs. These were the invahds, who
moaned as the rugs were pulled off their faces. A
great many had malaria ; others had, as far as we
could see, very bad pleurisy ; and one old Albanian

368 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
with ratthng breath was huddled up in a far
corner, too miserable to speak.
Whatmough sent for a dribble of camphorated
oil he had stored in his knapsack, " to cheer them
up," said he, and rubbed everybody who had pain
and a cough.
" Give them hot drinks," said Jo, in a large
way. "Milk or  "
" Milk ! There is no milk in Medua," said the
sergeant. " No tinned milk — eggs to be bought ? "
"Nothing, no meat; we have not even enough
bread, and that is all we get."
Very depressed, we sent them the remains of
our Bovril and some tins of milk from the tiny
hotel store, and bought the last three eggs in the
place. " Can't you send for more ? " we asked.
" The hens are five hours away," said the
proprietor, and didn't see why he should send for
eggs even if we paid heavily for them. He had
malaria — and nothing mattered.
We saw our patients daily, and the ones who
weren't going to die got a httle better, so this made
our reputation. People poured in from the hills
around, and we were much embarrassed. Our
white-hpped waiter confided to each member of
the party that he had a lump on his knee.

THE BET 369
Every one became very busy and put off looking
at it. We discussed it.
What could a lump on the knee be which did
not make a busy waiter hmp ? And what on earth
could we do for him when he wouldn't rest, and we
were reduced to boracic powder and bismuth
capsules ? We gave him a tube of quinine, though,
for his next attack of malaria.
The longer we rested in San Giovanni the more
hopeless seemed the chance of getting away from
it. The Serbian Government was close on our heels,
and once they caught us up, there would be httle
left for us. That evening we were sitting with the
Frenchmen, it was Monday. They, too, were
depressed, and at last Tweedledum said —
" We shall never reach Paris, we shall be here
for ever and ever."
" Oh," said Jan, rashly, " I think we ought to
be home in a week."
Dum put on the superior French air, which is
aggravating even in a nice man.
" Vous croyez ? " he said.
" I'll bet on it," said Jan.
" A dinner," answered Dum.
" Good," said Jan.
This lent a new interest to hfe.
The very next day the Frenchmen told us that
the Serb Government had arrived at Scutari ; the
2 B

370 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS"
Montenegrin Governor had telegraphed to com
mandeer and keep back the Benedetto. We had
been forgotten, and the French boat was to leave
at dawn under escort.
She had been strictly forbidden by her owners
to take passengers, but the Frenchmen had arranged
through their minister to go by that boat if she
left the first.
Telegraphic communication with the Enghsh
minister at Cettinje was practicaUy impossible ;
the only thing was to appeal to the captain. First
we rushed up the hill, and interviewed Captain
Fabiano, who had already made various efforts to
get us off. He promised to try and influence the
French captain.
Then we flung ourselves into a boat and made
for the httle steamer. People were looking at
something with opera glasses, and our boatmen
took fright and wanted to row straight for land.
Jan cursed them so much, however, that they
began to fear us more than imaginary submarines
or aeroplanes, and brought us alongside the vessel.
The captain was ashore, taking a walk; the
crew very sympathetically made contradictory
suggestions as to his whereabouts.
At last we caught him. He was nice, but had
strict orders, he said, to take no one.
" But, monsieur," we said, " if we were

A FRENCHMAN'S ESTIMATE 371
swimming in the sea, or cast off on a desert island,
you would rescue us."
He admitted it.
' Well, what is the difference ? Here we cannot
get away ; the food is growing less and less."
He objected that he had no boats, and no life-
saving apparatus.
" That is nothing. We must get away from
here. We will give you a paper saying that it is
on our own responsibihty. In this country one
cannot telegraph, the telegrams never arrive.
You know the Balkans."
He smiled.
" Oui, oui, c'est un pays ou le Bon Dieu n'a pas
passe, ou au moins il a peut-etre passe en aero
plane." At last he agreed to take us if we could get a
letter from Fabiano, and so take the responsibihty
from his shoulders. This we got. Fabiano said
" Au revoir, bon voyage " for the fifth time, and at
dawn we got a call, and quitted the bar-room floor
for ever. Fabiano wished us " bon voyage " for
the sixth time in the chilly dawn, and we embarked.
The mate, a httle round man, greeted us, and
in the moments when they were not rushing about
with ropes and chains the cook explained the
Austrian submarine attack.
" You see, monsieur et dame," said he, " they

372 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS
came in over there. The Benedetto was lying
outside of that sandbank, and that is the torpedo
which is lying on the beach. The one aimed at
us came straight, one could see the whorls of the
water coming straight at us, but it just tipped the
sandbank and dived underneath our keel. It
stuck in the mud then, and the water boiled over
it for a long while."
The mate cut one of the anchors because they
were afraid of fouhng the sunken torpedo, and we
steamed slowly out from the shelter of the sand
bank. No escort was visible, and soon the sailors
began to look anxious. They scanned the horizon
anxiously. At last one cried, " There she is."
Far away against the western dawn could be seen
a thin needle mark of smoke. In haU an hour we
were quite close, an Itahan destroyer was convoying
a small steamer. The destroyer swung round
under our stern, while the steamer, its funnels
set back, raced for San Giovanni looking
hke a frightened puppy tearing towards home.
The grey warship surged past us, and out
towards the horizon once more, our captain
shouting to them that he could get to Brindisi by
midnight. Far away on the sky-hne could be seen
the three funnels of a cruiser.
We breakfasted on tinned mackerel, an unlucky

THE LAST "RIBBER" 373
dish. The Harmonie, empty of cargo, was hke an
eggshell in the water. She bounced and rolled and
bounded from wave to wave, haU of the time her
screw out of the water. The breakfast did not
nourish many. Far on the horizon could be
seen the destroyer and the cruiser sweeping in
gigantic circles.
Half a kilometre away a periscope suddenly
appeared, then the submarine dived, rose once
more, showing the rounded conning tower, dived,
rose again, hke a porpoise at play.
" See," cried the sailors, " how well are we
guarded. Outermost the cruiser, then the destroyer,
and innermost the submarine." The cruiser and
destroyer took big sweeps once more and steamed
off behind us towards Cattaro.
Our boat rolled its way from dawn to dusk.
We sought refuge in the coal hole, some lay down
in the little officers' cabin. After dark the sea grew
more rough, and splashing over the deck drove even
the most ill to find shelter. Whatmough staggered
to the companion, tripped over something, and fell
the length of the stair accompanied by a hard object
which hit him and made hissing sounds hke a
bicycle pump. He was too seasick to investigate,
but next morning found the ship's tortoise lying on
its back and feebly waving its feet and head.
Then the engines slowly ceased, and there was
2b 2

374 "ONE MORE RIBBER TO CROSS
silence. What had happened? The steamer gave
four timid hoots. The people in the cabin lay in
the darkness wondering if they had broken down,
for it was not nearly midnight. At last the mate
came in.
" Why, you're aU in the dark," he said.
Some one asked, ' When shall we get to
Brindisi ? "
" We're there," said the mate.
The steamer rocked on the sea, waiting for an
escort through the mine field, fights were sparkhng
in the distance, and now and then flashhghts cut
the dark blue of the sky. Great black ships surged
by in the gloom, ships with insistent queries as to
who we were and whence we came.
At last an escort came : we were berthed and lay
about waiting for the dawn.
Long after day came the doctor, who passed
us, and we stepped ashore saying —
" Thank God we are back in Europe once again."
Two days later San Giovanni was bombarded
by an Austrian cruiser, and all the shipping was
sunk, Benedetto and all.
We were heartily welcomed in Brindisi by the
Enghsh colony, and at the consul's office learned
that the submarine was an Austrian, and that the
cruiser had made the sweep to chase it away. Jo,
Miss Brindley, and Jan went to Rome, where they

TO HOME

375

were feasted by more Enghsh, while at Milan —
where the rest of the party spent the night — a
whole theatre stood and cheered them when they
came in.
Jan won his bet by four minutes.

Fold out

INDEX

Albania, 109, 154, 185
Alessio, 351, 355-359, 362
Andrievitza, 126, 128, 133, 326
Belgrade, 228, 229
Berane, 114, 291, 294, 295, 326
Brindisi, 360, 374
Cattaeo, 94, 156
Cettinje, 48, 64, 78, 85, 91, 92, 96,
121, 123, 139, 205, 297, 336,
337
Chabatz, 229
Chainitza, 42, 49, 52, 53, 66
Damlograd, 87
Dechani, 147, 152, 157, 158, 190
Dormitor Mountains, 64, 74, 75
Dreina, 57
Durazzo, 350, 356, 360
Ebar River, 250, 267, 268
Gorazhda, 57, 59
Gotch, 236
Gussigne, 122
Ipek, 114, 122, 124, 132, 134,
143, 144, 145, 154, 175, 294,
330
Jabliak, 64, 70, 74
Jabooka, 129, 131, 330, 331
Jakovitza, 114

KOLASHIN, 132
Kossovo, 176, 178
Krag, Kragujevatz, 198, 209,
212, 213, 223, 224, 238, 243,
252, 262, 280, 330
Kralievo, 213, 241, 242, 262, 282
Krusevatz, 7, 24, 25, 194, 196,
237, 241
Lapovo, 259
Lieva Rieka, 134, 327, 334
Lim River, 36
Macedonia, 154, 184, 185
Metalka, 51
Mitrovitza, 155, 175, 176, 255,
261, 262, 275, 280, 288, 291,
292, 298
Morava, 1
Negbina, 35
Nickshitch, 66, 80, 83
Nish, 10-14, 20, 21, 40, 190, 235,
236, 275, 279
Novi Bazar, 68, 230, 239, 262,
275, 280, 284, 288, 292, 294
Novi Varosh, 33, 35, 36
Obrenovatz, 228
Plavnitza, 107, 116, 341
Plevhe, 38, 41, 43, 62, 72, 77, 80,
114, 165, 171, 294
Plav, 122

378

INDEX

Pod, Podgoritza, 64, 85, 88, 89,
90, 101, 124, 125, 127, 189,
326, 328, 335, 339
Posheravatz, 229
Prepolji, 36, 37, 54
Prizren, 349
Rashka, 257, 259, 265, 275, 279,
300,308
Rieka, 99, 124
Rudnik, 172, 223
Salonika, 15-17, 20, 44, 46,
190, 193
San Giovanni di Medua, 346, 351,
355, 360
Sanjak, 87, 96, 114, 154, 294
Scutari, 76, 84, 92, 94, 97, 101,
105, 107, 108, 110, 112, 113,
114, 122, 147, 217, 275, 326,
344
Shavnik, 76, 84
Shar Dagh, 180
Sofia, 64
Studenitza, 249, 278

Tara, 68
Tarabosch, 103
Trsternick, 25
Tutigne, 295, 299, 303, 304
Uskub, 14, 18, 180, 182, 183,
184, 186, 225, 238, 275, 288,
291
Uzhitze, 1, 3, 27, 28, 38, 40, 48,
277
Valievo, 295
Vela, 236
Velika, 137
Virbazar, 117
Voinik Mountains, 75
Vranje, 235, 236
Vrbitza, 319
Vrnjatchka Banja, Vrntze, 2, 18,
26, 27, 190, 194, 196, 198, 227,
245, 261
Zaichar, 13, 236
Zlatibor, 31, 33

THE END

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