g the town precincts. The custom-house official was
peacefully sleeping when we came in, and had to be awakened. We were
led to a divan, and cigarettes and coffee promptly brought to us while
our passports were examined. In a quarter of an hour we were allowed
to proceed, but a man came running after us saying that our baggage
had not been examined. He gently hinted that he had no wish to examine
it all if ..., and we understood. We forced a handful of backsheesh in
his seemingly unwilling hand, and slowly, with many muttered
exclamations, climbed into the saddles. We even did not scorn the
friendly aid of a low wall, so painfully stiff were we.

A short ride round the once mighty and historical fortress of Scutari,
past a ruined building liberally painted with white crosses, said to
have been once the Cathedral, and where we had noticed that Christian
Albanians piously crossed themselves on passing, led us to the famous
bazaar.

It was not our first visit to Scutari (we had visited the town by
steamer from Montenegro on several previous occasions), but as we
clattered through the evil-smelling alleys filled with a surging mass
of more or less unclean humanity, we were struck more forcibly than
ever with the picture. At times our passage was blocked by the crowds,
and misshapen figures and hideous faces would peer out of doors and
shop windows at us, and swaggering Albanians would jostle each other,
their belts for the most part empty, though many were armed in spite
of the stringent rules to the contrary. Slowly we forged our way
through this seething crowd, and emerged on the open road beyond,
leading to the town proper, which lies about half-an-hour's distance
away.

At the hotel we dismissed the man (and the horses), who remarked with
a certain grimness, in Italian, "Buon arrivato," and we staggered into
a meal which our eight-hour fast and torture had rendered extremely
necessary.

[Illustration: THE CONSULAR QUARTERS, SCUTARI]

Though Scutari, strictly speaking, does not belong to this account of
Montenegro, it is still so interesting, being in former days part
of Montenegro, that it deserves some mention.

The actual town is Mahometan, three-quarters of the inhabitants
belonging to that faith; but as the surrounding mountains are all
Christian, and it is the seat of the Roman Catholic Bishopric of
Albania, religious feuds are common. The Christian Albanian belongs
literally to the "Church Militant," and e