As we knew not how long a voyage lay before us, we laid up a store of provisions in our vessel—the round wheaten cakes of the East, "baken on the coals," probably similar to those the Shunamite placed before Elisha long ago, a gourd of wine with a strong smack of the goat's skin, goat's milk cheese, and an abundance of fine black grapes.
Our boat awaited us some few hundred yards down the stream, where the water was sufficiently deep to float her; for the Rieka is here but a shallow brook. Our boatmen had a good deal of poling and wading to do for the first mile or so, as we were constantly grounding on the shingle banks.
Before leaving, a ceremony had to be observed which prevails all over these countries, and which, like many good old customs, has died out in more civilized countries. Our host tucked a bottle of raki under his arm, and, taking a small glass in his hand, accompanied us to where we were to embark, and then handed round the final stirrup cups in most liberal manner.
The londra, as the boat of the country is called, is a roughly-made, flat-bottomed affair, with prow and stern alike—sharp pointed, and running up high out of the water, something like the Venetian gondola. These boats are of every size, from the small cranky tub propelled with one oar, to the lengthy twelve-oared vessel.
They have little beam, and must be exceedingly dangerous on the lake in choppy weather—indeed, accidents often occur; but every one here is so happily careless, and trustful in kismet, that these ricketty coffins have not been superseded by any more seaworthy craft.
The londra is tarred inside and out; there are no benches; the passengers squat on their blankets at the bottom of the boat. The rowers stand up facing the bow, and force their long clumsy sweeps through the water in short, quick jerks.
THE LONDRA.
Page 102.
They do not make use of rollocks, but twist vine or clematis branches into grommets, which run through holes made for the purpose in the gunwale. These grommets soon wear out, and have to be replaced three or four times in a day's journey. The londra, notwithstanding its rough build, progresses at a very fair pace, so long as it does not meet with a strong head-wind, when its little hold on the water is much against it.
Having comfortably settled ourselves at the bottom of our vessel, among our blankets and saddle-bags, we bid adieu to our sailor friend with an au revoir in London, when he should next visit that port, and got under weigh. Our crew consisted of four brigand-like Montenegrins, who were dirty and miserable, in all save their weapons, which were beautiful. One was the proud possessor of a long pistol, with a silver hilt inlaid with precious stones, the spoil of the Turk. Each had his gun with him, so we were a formidable-looking party.