When the path broadened out slightly our two guards left us and returned home. Both emptied their magazines into the air at parting, which we answered, and the din was tremendous. Below us was a small village or collection of shepherds' huts, and, in that moment, confusion reigned supreme. The men seized their rifles, the women rushed into the huts, dogs barked, and horses stampeded. It seemed rather thoughtless to thus alarm the village, but, on being remonstrated with, the men only laughed and fired another shot. Had it been a town below us the result might have been more serious.
A little further on, we stopped for rest and food at a narrow pass overlooking Gusinje on the one side and Montenegro on the other. The murdered Kuć general, whose memorial stone we had seen earlier in the day, was buried here. Strange that his body should find its last resting-place overlooking the home of his murderers.
By using the Montenegrin telephone (the art of talking at great distances), we ordered some milk from the village below, and drank it with that enjoyment which is only known to a thoroughly hungry and thirsty man.
Our afternoon's ride was again particularly stiff. Climbing one hill, Dr. S., who was leading, missed the path, a very easy thing to do, so undefined as it sometimes is. He got on to a very steep and rocky bit of the hill and his horse lost its footing. It began stumbling and slipping about in a most alarming manner. We held our breath for the next few seconds, for a long fall was in store for him, and certain death. He tried to dismount, and succeeded in getting off his horse, but his foot stuck in the stirrup, the horse still sliding on. Fortunately, the animal recovered its balance, and Dr. S. extricated himself, but it was a nasty moment. That is the worst of the Montenegrins; they rely so implicitly on the sure-footedness of their ponies that they ride up anywhere, only condescending to dismount for very steep descents. And accidents often happen when horse or man, or even both, are killed; but this presumable laziness affords no example to others.
About five p.m. we began anxiously inquiring the whereabouts of our night quarters. The usual Montenegrin quart d'heure was given—and rightly enough. A sharp descent, lasting over an hour, made painfully on foot, saw us in a great hollow basin among the mountains, with the pretty lake of Rikavac at the further end and a small collection of wooden huts.
To these we proceeded and were met by the village Fathers. Dr. S. was well known here and they had recognised him coming down. Five dear old boys they were, who kissed Dr. S. most affectionately, one unshaven old ruffian including me in his salute. I do not appreciate the Montenegrin custom of kissing among men; it is not pleasant. An empty hut was immediately put at our disposal. It was the most primitive and tumble-down habitation that we had had as yet. Of course it rained. It was almost the first rain on the trip, and we had to lie up here a whole day as P. was unwell and unable to ride. Everyone turned out to make the hut comfortable, but it was not a success. I lay down outside and promptly fell asleep, when a sharp thunderstorm came on and drove me inside. There was not a dry corner to be found. The rain came through in steady rivulets everywhere. There was no getting away from those persistent little streams, either head, body, or feet had to suffer—and the fire refused to burn. Added to that, the whole population crowded in to look at us. It was no fun at all Stephan stood cursing in German that he could not get near the fire to cook, and that he would not cook at all if the mob were not cleared out. This Dr. S. refused to allow, as it would be considered inhospitable.
In course of time the rain stopped and our visitors left us, but only temporarily. Stephan cooked and we went outside to dry ourselves. The food was then ready, and after putting away a good meal we were able to view the world with more equanimity.
After supper it came on to rain again and damped us thoroughly before going to bed. I was very annoyed to find, after having discovered as I fondly imagined a dry corner, that one of my pockets was full of water. I should not have been so irritated had my tobacco been in another pocket; it was a leather coat and held the water beautifully. Then we tried to go to sleep. My pillow was a stone, like Jacob's, and though I tried covering it with my coat it was of no avail, since the cold forced me to put it on again. I do not mind a hard bed, but a hard pillow is distinctly objectionable. We were just on the point of sleeping when in stalked two men for an after-supper smoke and chat, and one of them, to P.'s intense disgust, sat on his feet. It cost Dr. S. all his diplomacy to hint that we had been up since three a.m. and were disinclined to talk.