Extremely fatigued after our early start and long ride, it was an effort to keep from falling asleep, and noticing this the priest left. We were both comfortably asleep in corners when the wretched landlord appeared with armfuls of sheets and pillows at the order of the priest. He cruelly woke us up and proceeded to make beds. After that all thought of sleep was gone. Furthermore, in dirty and dusty riding-clothes one has not the heart to lie down on spotlessly clean sheets.
Soon afterwards the horses were ready, and we cantered up to the monastery to take our leave. But leave-taking was no such easy matter. Our pockets were filled with dried fruits, and after we were already in the saddle the Abbot presented us with packets of incense which he hurriedly fetched from the church. Waving him and the other fathers a last farewell, we started on our long ride back to Kolašin.
During our rambles in Kolašin the doctor took us to a peasant's house whom he knew very well. This acquaintance proved one of our most pleasant recollections of the country. The head of the house was a fine-looking man, lean and active, and possessed many decorations for past acts of bravery in the field. His son was in prison at the time for some political offence, but his daughter-in-law and two little babies, besides two or three unmarried daughters and sons, were living with him. The whole family outdid themselves in courtesy to us, and we were, as usual, considerably embarrassed by the behaviour of the women-folk. Though we went several times to the house, they would rarely seat themselves while we were present, and invariably kissed our hands in coming and going.
The doctor played games of cards with our host, but the united efforts of P. and myself failed to discover any method or system in the game. The doctor tried to explain at first, but after five minutes we begged him to desist. So we sat and looked on, drinking cups of black coffee and endeavouring to make friendly overtures to the babies, who openly showed that they considered us distinctly dangerous.
The house itself was curious. The ceiling was low and the walls were of great thickness. The windows were so small that it was barely possible to squeeze one's head through the opening. The idea of the house is to obtain the maximum amount of warmth, for the cold of these mountainous regions is intense in winter. In summer, however, these houses are delightfully cool.
The evening before our departure from Kolašin we were invited to an open-air feast at the peasant's country house.
The "country house" was, it is true, only a rough wooden shanty, but, as our meal was outside, it didn't matter.
When we arrived, after an hour's walk, we found a table set out with a white cloth and three wooden chairs on a green slope overlooking the valley of Kolašin. It was a delightful spot. Some little distance away the last few turns were being given to a lamb roasted whole on a spit over an open fire.
The feast was soon served up. The entire lamb, on a great wooden platter, an enormous bowl of milk, eggs, sheeps' cheese, and unlimited spirits. The women-folk waited on us and kept our platters full. Other men with their wives joined us, not to partake of this Homeric feast, but to see us gorge ourselves. It may not be a nice expression, but we were literally forced to eat to an uncomfortable state of repletion. They took no denial, and even then the lamb was not nearly finished. These mountaineers eat meat only on great festivals, and consume enough to last them for the next few months. They did not realise that we were content with sufficient to last us for the next few hours.
Our glasses, too, were kept replenished with the potent spirit of the land, and our respective healths were drunk, on the average, once every three minutes. When this began to pall they toasted each other, in which we had naturally to join, and these were followed by patriotic toasts. It was rather an uproarious evening.