Albanian carts are two-wheeled (this looked of bad omen for the road conditions), and the wheels tower above the oxen, which are very small. The cart looks as if it was composed of wheels only, the rest of it consisting of a few planks loosely nailed together. Our own Serbian soldiers now remained in Scutari, with the exception of half a dozen, whom we took with us as pony leaders. They were to return to Scutari from Medua. The Albanian drivers seemed sulky, but we hoped it was only because we didn't understand their language. The road was fairly good, and near Scutari bazaar town, which was extremely picturesque, we crossed a swift river on a real iron bridge. The lake, with its setting of high mountains, was magnificent. It was such a relief to be no longer officially responsible for a column, that there was temptation to dally. But Sir Charles had told us to hurry; he was nervous about that last boat; so we jogged on till 7.30 p.m., when we reached the village of Bashat. For a wonder, the Albanian host of the first house in which we asked for shelter, welcomed us warmly to his room, which was, as usual, up a step-ladder. He sold us hay for the horses and the oxen, also he gave us the use of his wood fire. There was no fireplace; the fire was at one end of the room, on the dried mud floor. There was no chimney, but there was no smoke in the room, because the roof was full of holes, and the plank floor also had many gapes, so there were plenty of smoke exits, both above and below. I put my whip on the floor beside me, and it disappeared into the stable below.
Our host was a widower with four sons. These sat all round the fire with their father, and gazed at us as we tried to eat our tough trek-ox steak, with some fried onions. When bedtime came, we all lay down on the floor, on our packs. I was on one side of the fire, and our host fetched his mattress and quilted bed-cover, and spread the mattress on the floor, on the other side of the fire. I wondered if he was going to undress, and I began to wish I was not quite so near. The next minute he alarmed me, for he came over to my side of the fire with his bed quilt in his hands. Good heavens! "No! No! Indeed! Many thanks. I can manage all right by myself," I answered hurriedly, in broad English, as I tucked my rug tightly round me; but he persisted in offering me his bed quilt, and as I found it was not necessary to take the owner with the quilt, I accepted the latter with gratitude, much touched at his fatherly care. But I wished with all my heart that he had not been so kind, for now I was nervous lest I might, after all, have to share that quilt with other smaller undesirable companions; it seemed highly probable from the look of the room. But it would have hurt my friend if I had refused the quilt, or had not made use of it, so I risked everything, put it over me, and—spent the night alone. I expect the cold had killed them.
I had told the ox-drivers that they were to be up at four in the morning for an early start; we must reach Medua that night. No one at Scutari had any certain knowledge about boats; but Sir Charles had said, as plainly as he could, that haste was desirable. At 4 a.m. therefore, I went out to see if the men were up, and I was greeted by our own men with the news that the Albanians had bolted, and had taken their oxen with them. They had left the carts, but these were useless without oxen. Our biggest and best horse (gaolbird's) had lain itself down to die directly we arrived last night; and unless we could procure other oxen or ponies, we must leave all our remaining food and blankets behind, and, not knowing what might still be before us, this was risky. Vooitch and I rode into the village, a couple of miles away, and saw the Prefect, but it was "Nema nishta Bogami." He could, or would, do nothing. No ponies or oxen were available, and there was no telephone or other communication with Scutari. But there were other columns encamped near. Perhaps they could lend us animals. We waited until 7 a.m., as the officers would not have liked to be disturbed before, and then Vooitch and I climbed over walls, and waded through streams, until we reached the nearest likely camp.
The captain was in bed. Seeing people in bed had lost all its terrors in these days, for no one ever undressed. He came out on being awoke by his servant, but the answer was "Nema nishta." He had no animals to spare, but he was very kind, and gave us a note to an artillery officer stationed three miles away. This time I spared Vooitch, and took our old "narednik" (sergeant) from Kragujevatz, who had joined us at Scutari. Colonel Guentchitch had wished, and had even ordered, him to accompany me from Kragujevatz, and I should have been thankful to have him, but he was so serviceable to the Kragujevatz Hospital, that I would not obey orders. On our worn and weary ponies, we crawled to the camp, and to our joy and gratitude it was "Dobro! dobro!" and we were given half a dozen ponies and half a dozen men to lead them, and with these, added to our own, we had enough. The men would bring the ponies back when we had done with them.
LEADING THE COLUMN ON FOOT OVER THE MOUNTAINS
Other columns following down the slope (to the left) behind us
LEAVING OUR NIGHT'S BIVOUAC
(between Petch and Roshai)
We eventually started with thirteen ponies at 11 o'clock. Another of our horses fell within the next quarter of an hour, and had to be left at the artillery camp as we passed. We trekked hard till 4 p.m., then halted for half an hour, to make tea in a field near Barbalucci. The main road after that was impassable, with three feet of mud, and we were warned to take to the fields. Here great caution had to be exercised, as every now and then, stretches of bog had already engulfed other unwary wayfarers, and wreckage of carts and of fiacres was plentiful. We grew more and more thankful that our drivers had run away, and had saved us from having our stuff left in a bog. Also we were able to move much quicker without oxen, and time was, as instinct told me, of importance. I am glad I did not then know of how much importance it was.