Old gaolbird and Sandford and Merton went on to try and get rooms, and bread and hay, in the village of Vilatz. After winding round and round the mountain side, on a narrow road, we arrived, and found Sandford and Merton sitting calmly on a rock this side of the village, "nema nishta" written in capitals all over their faces. So Vooitch and I went on into the village, and the first man to whom we spoke said, "Oh, yes," he could give us hay, and bread, and a house in which to spend the night. It was too good to be true, but we told him to wait while we went on to see the officer at the military station, to ask for bread for the men. But the officer said "nema nishta" to bread and to everything, so we went out to see what our first friend could do for us. We found the local Prefect standing outside; a tall, fine-looking man, dressed in dark blue uniform, with a revolver hanging conspicuously from his waist-belt. To our surprise, he accosted us aggressively, and said we must not buy hay or bread from the man who had offered it. The man remonstrated, and said it was his hay and his bread, and he could do what he liked with it. I was inclined to agree with him, but the Prefect then stormed and shouted, and brought out his revolver, and threatened to shoot the man if we went with him. He did not realise who we were, and that, though I was in woman's dress, I had majorly authority. We mentioned this. Then I took his name and told him that I should tell the English newspapers how a Montenegrin Prefect treated his English allies. That was a great success. At once it appeared that we had misunderstood him. He had only spoken for our good, fearing that we might be disappointed of the promised hay and bread; but, by all means, if we wished to go to the man's house, we could go. But I now guessed that, as food was scarce in the village, our friend might get into trouble if we took his stuff. The house was out of our way, so I expressed cold thanks for the permission, and we trekked to the next village (Klopot), which was said to contain hay.
The village consisted of half a dozen one-storied houses, amongst the barren rocks. Only here and there, like plums in a school pudding, were patches of green winter corn, amongst the grey boulders. To carry on the usual farce, Sandford and Merton had gone on ahead to procure hay, and we found them sitting comfortably in a cottage. "Hullo! Here you are! How much hay have you found?" "Nema nishta." "How much bread?" "Nema nishta." This form having been gone through, Vooitch and I went, as usual, to search. At the end of a long trek, I sometimes wished I was not obliged to start out to do the work of another man who had nothing else to do. But I always remembered that I was not enduring the misery of leaving my country in enemies' hands; I must not judge them till I had been similarly tried. These men were probably jewels at their own jobs in normal times. Sandford had been employed in a bank and had perhaps there learned to say "nema nishta" to his customers. The other man's job had been commercial.
But it was a little unlucky for them that on this occasion, the first man in the street whom Vooitch and I approached for hay, replied promptly, "Oh, yes," he could sell us a thousand kilos; and it was still more unlucky for them that, when we followed this man to his house, to complete the bargain, he took us straight to the house in which Sandford and Merton were at that moment comfortably settled; a proof that they had not even troubled to ask for hay. We did not want a thousand kilos, and at first our friend said we must buy all or nothing; but that was only a preamble, and he gave us 200 kilos at half a dinar a kilo. At the last village they had asked two grosch.[1] Our poor tired pony- and oxen-leaders now had a two-miles' climb over boulders, and up steep hills, to fetch hay. No bread or food for the men had been obtained or sought, and as Sandford and Merton were now quite helpless and did nothing for the men, I decided that the latter should, in future, be given money wherewith to procure food for themselves. This was at first resisted by S. and M., but I insisted, and forced them to make a list of the men's names, and to start giving the money immediately. And the men were well content, and I knew now that if there was food to be had, they would find it.
[1] A grosch equals about three half-pence.
We were in luck's way that night, for it was bitterly cold, with sleet and snow, and a Montenegrin policeman allowed us to sleep on the mud floor of his room. Going to bed was, in these days, a delightfully simple operation. Men one end of the room, women the other. No undressing, no washing; one rag on the ground to lie on, and another to cover you, and you had gone to bed, and were generally asleep in a few minutes. The unshaved men looked like elongated hedgehogs, and I was humbly thankful that Nature hadn't given me cheeks that were liable to sprout with stiff and bristly hairs at the slightest provocation.
The ponies and oxen found shelter under some rocks in a field next to our house. Our host had some rakiya, and, for a wonder, he sold us a little, so we called in the pony leaders and gave them each a small glassful. They expressed themselves, both then and on other occasions, freely, concerning the Montenegrins. They were all, of course, desperately keen to get back to Serbia one day, but never, they said, vehemently, through Montenegro. "Nema nishta Bogami" had been too severe a trial for their overstrung nerves.
The Montenegrin people seemed, to our men, selfish and unfriendly, and almost, like their country, hostile. But I reminded our soldiers that Montenegro was a poor and barren land; there was probably not more than enough food for the Montenegrin people, and now the Serbian Army and a portion of the Serbian nation had been billeted on them, and they could not afford to be generous. But, in my heart, I sympathised with our men's sentiments. I gathered, during my passage through the country, the impression that Montenegro desires above all an extension of commerce; that good roads are of first importance for this, and that Montenegrin hearts would warm most to the nation which was most likely to give them the best roads.
I was not surprised that a stouter resistance was not offered to the Austrian enemy.