THE ARMOURER-THE WAR MINISTER. 179

After breakfast Robinson and Marco rode off to Cettinje, fifteen hours from here, to fetch the tent and the rest of their baggage.

While they were away we explored the town, and made the acquaintance of a very good fellow, Gospodina Milosh, the government armourer, whọ was now very occupied in putting into order the rifles which the mountaineers brought down to him, anticipating the invasion of Albaniar territory, the orders to march being daily expected. This gentleman had been sent to Vienna to learn his trade, and spoke German well, so was a useful interpreter for us during our stay.

There was a large building adjoining our hotel, which was occupied by the minister of war for Montenegro. It was he who led the highlanders in those successful battles they fought with the Turks on the Herzegovinan frontier during the last war. His name I have forgotten. Every morning we saw him and a dozen chiefs, and others, stalk up and down the river side in front of our window, for it was out of doors he transacted his business, received his despatches, gave his orders, and formed plans for the investment of Gussinje.

The next morning we went outside the town with our landlord (who by the way was a sergeant in the army, as the metal eagle in his cap betokened), for a little practice with our rifles. We easily beat the natives on this as on all

other occasions, and gave them a very high idea of our skill as rifle shots.

I hit the target (a pocket handkerchief) at a 200 yards' range, at the first shot, which so pleased the spectators that they gave me the name of the "dobra Pushka."

There is a little bazaar in Podgoritza, through which we strolled. We purchased some of the native caps, for it is always advisable to wear these when in Montenegro; the people like one to assume their national head-covering, and have a strong dislike for European hats.

We tried to catch some fish in the river, but failed, so returned to our caravanserai for our usual mutton and fowl. A curious lad waited on us-he was very open-eyed and solemn, his dignity was not to be disturbed by any amount of chaff. We called him Johnny, and spoke to him. in any language that came handy, "Asht hazer bouka, donno me hongr ?" (Is the food ready? we want to eat) was a sentence-half of which, by the way, is Sclav and half Albanian-which was frequently inflicted on him. "Yest, yest, (Yes, yes, it is ready) was the welcome answer he vouchsafed to us on our entry this evening. Yest, which literally signifies "It is," is the affirmative in this language, and at first surprises an Englishman by its resemblance to his native "yes."

hazer "

CHAPTER XIII.

War preparations-Our camp visitors-An impromptu ballEnglish 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.

AN OLD VETERAN.

183

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, tobaccoless, 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 receptionroom 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,