War preparations--Our camp visitors--An impromptu ball--English Consul
fashion--Robbers--Ruins of Douka--A dangerous bath--Bastinado--Karatag
yok mir.
The following day we took a walk in the country, with our friend the
armourer. The sheltered hollows literally swarmed with tortoises; one
could count as many as sixty within the space of a few yards. A gap was
pointed out in the distant hills behind the town, where was fought one
of the most sanguinary battles of the last war--the battle of Medun--in
which Prince Nikita gained a signal victory.
Our friend told us some wonderful story about a rich Turk who inhabited
the present ministry of war some four years ago, before the war broke
out. He was tyrant of Podgoritza, and forbade any one to bear arms in
the town. This restriction seems to have excited the wrath of the
Montenegrins, who were wont to come down to the Albanian city on
market-day. Two of these daring highlanders came into the town one
morning, concealing pistols on their persons. They met the aforesaid
rich Turk in the bazaar, called him a dog and a thief, and thereupon
blew his brains out.
The Mohammeddans then rose, and put every Montenegrin in the town to
death--some twenty or thirty.
This, he said, was one of the causes which led to Prince Nikita's
taking part in the Russo-Turkish war.
We had invited our new friend to sup with us. He seemed to appreciate
fowl and mutton very well.
He gave us much interesting information as to the prospects of war and
other matters. He said that artillery was already posted on the heights
above Gussinje, and that the prince's troops would not be long in
driving out the enemy. He told us he was not allowed to fight himself,
his services as armourer being so exceedingly important. This was a
source of great grief to him. In the last war he ran away from his work
and joined the troops. The prince caught and rebuked him, sent him back
to his forge, and told him to consider himself as a prisoner there. He
once more sneaked down to the front during a great battle, his warlike
ardour being too much for him. This time again the prince found him
out, but could not refrain from laughing, and was obliged to pardon
him.
The next day Robinson rode in with both horses. He had made rather a
muddle of his errand, for having come down from Cettinje as far as
Rieka, he then left Marco, to bring the tent and baggage on by londra
to a place called Jabiak. It ultimately turned out that Jabiak was just
as far from here as Rieka was. Brown rode off with a guide to this
place, and then found the unhappy Marco sitting alone, disconsolate,
tobacco-less, on the white elephant, mid the sedges by the shores of
the lake, waiting till he should be called for. Brown described him as
being an indescribably piteous object, as he meditated alone in that
dismal swamp.
When, on the following day, Brown, Marco, the white elephant, and the
two horses returned, we held a council; and though all unanimous in
desiring to leave Podgoritza as soon as possible, could not decide as
to whither we had best go until this dilatory war, which had been
promised us by Robinson and Jones as an inducement to postpone our
Albanian travels, should commence. As we discussed warmly the armourer
came in, and said, "The minister of war wishes to see you as soon as
you can give him an hour." "We can come now," we replied. So he ushered
us into the reception-room of the war ministry, where sat the courteous
and handsome old veteran, looking fully twenty years younger than he
is. We sat on a divan, and were presented with coffee and cigarettes in
the Turkish style. The armourer acted as interpreter, translating the
general's words into German, which language both Jones and Robinson
understood well. He said "he was exceedingly glad to see English
travelling in his wild native country, and trusted we liked the people.
Go all over it," he added; "you will be safe. Pilfering and highway
robbery are quite unknown among us." On being questioned as to the
preparations for war, he said, "It was to tell you about this I desired
to see you. You wish to see the campaign: you shall do so. You shall
come with me as my guests. My servants shall be yours. On no account
leave the country just yet. What will be done will be worth your
seeing." On being told that we were rather pressed for time, he went on
to say, "Negotiations are pending at Constantinople. In four days we
shall know all. Come to me then, and I can tell the very hour we march.
That war will be, I am certain. The Albanians are sure to resist.
Prince Nikita too has sworn to take Gussinje. It is his by treaty. We
will take it, and no quarter will we give the dogs. Why should we? They
are rebels. Turkey says she has given up the place to us, and that it
is not her fault if the inhabitants resist. We will not spare one of
them. If you wish to see something of the country before you see me
again, go to Douka, where the great ruins are--they are worth
visiting--then you can return here."
This proposal pleased us, so the commissariat was sent out to procure a
large quantity of raki, mutton, flour, and other necessaries. Robinson
was anxious to try the white elephant as soon as possible, so it was
determined to take one of our horses to bear our impedimenta, and march
out to as near Douka as we could manage this afternoon, and then camp
for the night.
Douka is situated on the right bank of the river Moracha, some miles
above Podgoritza.
Our landlord came with us, for as the sun was setting we did not expect
to march for more than an hour, and he wished to see us comfortably
settled for the night. Marco we left behind.
We marched on the left bank of the Moracha, thus cutting off a long
loop which the stream formed here, and by sunset had arrived at a spot
just opposite to the ruins of Douka, the broad and foaming river
dividing us from it.
We pitched our tent in the plain not far from the precipitous edge of
the river. The white elephant certainly looked very imposing, and was
very comfortable. We unpacked the horse, and arranged all our property
in an orderly manner in our new home. Then our landlord rode back to
Podgoritza. The sun was now setting over the western hills, so we lost
no time in cutting down some of the brushwood, and making a large fire
some ten yards from the entrance of the tent; the pot was then put on,
and a tasty stew prepared of mutton, grease-meal, onions, pepper, and
salt.
I do not know whether, in Montenegro, to pitch a tent and light a fire
signifies a general invitation to the country-side to come and make
merry and carouse, but that was the result on this occasion. As night
set in, first one and then another armed highlander would drop in, walk
into our tent in the calmest manner, quite _sans gene_, shake us by the
hand, with a "_Dobro Eutro Gospodina_," then sit down, roll himself a
cigarette, and commence smoking. At first we thought these people
rather cool, but they were so polite that it was evident they did not
imagine their conduct to be in any way extraordinary.
At last a large crowd had assembled round our tent--a very curious
people. Where they came from we could not imagine. Houses there were
none in sight. They seemed to have no homes, no occupation. It was a
matter of utter indifference to them where they were at any time, or
where they slept. We were at this encampment for two days: all the time
they remained outside the tent in a most contented matter. They were
just as well there as anywhere else. After dinner we provided coffee
and raki for our visitors. Then an impromptu entertainment followed.
Robinson and myself gave a conjuring entertainment for the amusement of
the wild people. We sat at the remote end of the tent. About seventeen
of the audience sat inside in a double row: these were the swells in
the stalls. The gods outside filled up the open door and looked over
each other's shoulders, in a compact and surging mass. The conjuring
was much appreciated by our audience.
When we had exhausted our repertoire of tricks, all cleared out of the
tent, which had become very stuffy. It was a magnificent night. The
moon was rising over the distant mountains, and there was not a breath
of air to stir the rising smoke. We piled up the fire and made up a
glorious blaze, which threw a bright light on our fantastic visitors.
They were all now very merry and boisterous. They wrestled, sang, and
ran, like a lot of children. Why not get up a ball? proposed some one.
It was a happy idea; every one fell into it with delight. With loud
shouts and wild gestures they whirled round the fire hand-in-hand,
treading energetically, almost fiercely, a measure of their own. There
were two charming young ladies in the crowd, who were the decided
belles of the ball--Neda and Zekitza. Zekitza made a great impression
on Robinson's sensitive heart. She was a powerful young lady, for once
she disagreed with one of her partners about something, and caught him
a resounding slap, which felled him to the ground. She also wrestled
with another youth, and easily laid him low. It was a curious scene;
not the least curious object was the gallant Jones handing round
refreshments--raw raki in a saucepan, which girls and all partook of
freely.
"Verily," the Montenegrins must have thought, "these are consuls
Inglesi, and they do things in right good English consul fashion."
It was rather difficult to get rid of our guests when we wished to turn
in for the night. That any one should like privacy at times is
incomprehensible to Montenegrin or Albanian highlanders. They walk into
each other's huts, uninvited, at every hour of the night, to chat and
drink coffee. They seem to need a very small amount of sleep. I found,
in the cabins and khans we visited, it was the rule to turn in about
twelve and be up again at two, jabbering and coffee drinking; for it is
not that they have any work to do that these people are so early in
rising. After all, when you have no dressing or washing to get through,
getting up early becomes easier than when the complicated toilets and
tubbings of the Anglo-Saxon are before you.
When we arose the next morning the cook was horrified to find that a
saddle-bag, containing our mutton and tobacco, had disappeared in the
night. A burglarious entrance must have been made into our tent while
we slept. We remembered having seen two suspicious-looking young
fellows prowling about the camp during the ball, who were evidently
strangers to the rest of the Montenegrins present, and who seemed to be
shunned by them as disreputable vagabonds. These doubtlessly were the
thieves.
One of our visitors, seeing us searching for something, understood the
state of affairs, and told us by signs he would soon recover our
property. This we thought rather improbable; but he knew what he was
promising, as events showed.
The peasantry kindly brought some provisions to our camp this morning.
Tubs of veronica, a sort of sour milk, goat's-milk cheeses, and wheaten
cakes.
As our tobacco had all been stolen, I mounted Rosso and galloped into
Podgoritza, to procure some more. On my return to the camp we started
for the ruins of Douka, all our new friends following us. Further up
the stream an ancient man had a boat, in which he ferried us over,
three or four at a time. The boat was very rickety, and over-grown with
moss; the boatman of great age, ragged, and of exceeding ugliness. He
and his craft irresistibly called up Charon and his Stygian ferry to
our minds.
Douka was evidently a Roman city. The peasantry gave us several coins
they had found among the ruins; these were of the time of Diocletian,
and bore his effigy. There was not much to see--a few ruined walls, and
some slabs bearing illegible inscriptions, were all we could find. The
ruins were thickly overgrown with brushwood. However, I should say this
place would repay the labours of an excavator, for it must have been a
place of considerable importance once. We amused ourselves with some
rifle practice, and then returned to camp.
This evening Brown did a very imprudent thing--he washed himself. He
went down to the river, stripped, and jumped into a deep pool. We
warned him, told him he might be misunderstood by the people; but he
was obdurate.
Some Montenegrins on the other bank saw him. "What is it?" they said,
for at first they could not believe it was a man. Who ever saw a man
with his clothes off--in water, too?
They were about to fire at the mysterious object, when somehow they
recognized it as a human being. They were evidently much puzzled to
know what on earth he could be doing there. Was this a curious
religious rite of the Inglezi church? Was it a mystic ceremony
connected with witchcraft?
We were bound to make some explanation for Brown, for we found the
people fought very shy of him when he came out of the bath, and looked
upon him with evident suspicion and dislike, so we put our fingers to
our foreheads, shook our heads sadly, and intimated to them that our
poor friend was not quite right in his mind.
The next morning we were awoke early by the sound of voices outside our
tent. On looking out we found an officer of some rank, and several
armed men, bringing two prisoners to us. These were the very two men we
had suspected of stealing our mutton. Our saddle-bag and its contents
were restored to us by the captors. They had tracked the fellows up
into the mountains during the night, with the assistance of a
bloodhound. The officer stayed to converse with us awhile in very
limited Italian.
As for the prisoners, he merely turned to them, pointed towards
Podgoritza, and said "Go." They obediently skulked off in the given
direction, and awaited him in the bazaar.
We found afterwards that the poor fellows were sentenced to be
bastinadoed, thirty cuts on the sole of the foot each, and were then
imprisoned for some days in a sort of open prison or cage.
We had exhausted the charms of Douka, so packed our baggage, and
marched back to Podgoritza. Robinson superintended the lowering of the
tent. This was the sole occasion during the whole tour on which the
white elephant was brought into use. It was afterwards mildly suggested
to its inventor that it might be a question whether all the tribulation
and expense attending its carriage was made up for by these two nights'
encampment on the plains of the Moracha. He was silent on the subject.
On arriving at Podgoritza we at once called on the minister of war, to
learn the latest news of the war. He had heard of our little adventure
with the mutton pilferers.
He was much amused at our account of it. "Ah!" he said, "and I had only
just told you that robbers were unknown in Montenegro." As to the war,
he had no news to tell us. Orders to advance might come to-day, might
not come for a month. He knew no more than we did.
We left him, and retired to our chamber at the khan. After dinner we
were smoking silently and sulkily, when Brown, addressing Jones and
Robinson, sternly said, "This war of yours is a fraud, you have brought
us out here under false pretences." I joined in to assist my ally, and
laid stress on the delights of Brown's and my own projected march to
Janina, which we had put off to hunt this phantom war all over this
uninteresting country.
After a warm discussion it was decided to march back to Scutari on the
morrow. I communicated our design to Marco. The worthy fellow's face
broke into broad smiles, as he whispered hoarsely, "Good, monsor, good;
_Karatag yok mir_. Montenegro no bonne, no bonne." He evidently did not
feel comfortable among his hereditary enemies.