ge tree. Some young men kindly fetched us a
little water in a dirty vessel, which tasted abominably.

Another long climb and we at last found shade, and rode for the rest
of the afternoon through beech forests. If the path had been bad
before, it was worse now, and it was a perfect marvel how the horses
kept their feet. I was somewhat unfortunate in my horse Alat, who was
blind in one eye, so that I always had to guide him over difficult
places. This kept me for ever on the alert, and became trying. At
every hut we pulled up and asked for milk, but invariably got "Nema"
(I have none) for an answer. The Montenegrins are singularly laconic
at times.

Now began a long descent, so atrocious that we had to dismount and
climb down on foot, leaving the horses to pick their way as best they
could, and about seven p.m. we reached the house where we were to
spend the night. It consisted of two rooms, a kitchen and a bedroom,
the sole furniture of the latter consisting of two wooden bedsteads.

There was no food, except a half lamb, which Stephan had brought on
the pack-horse, and its condition was unpleasant from its many hours'
exposure to the sun and attendant flies. It took over an hour to cook,
and by that time our ravenous hunger had passed, stilled by a few
quarts of delicious milk. The inn--for such was the character of the
house--unlike similar institutions of more civilised lands, had
neither accommodation for man nor beast. There was no hay for our
hungry horses, who had to wait for two hours while a man took an
hour's climb up a mountain to the next village and brought back a load
of 45 kilos (100 lbs.) on his back. A little thought can be given to
this fact. Suffice it to say that this lean and athletic man took off
his shirt and literally wrung the sweat from it. This, too, at the end
of a long day's work. Part of the hay served for our beds, and little
enough it seemed too.

P. and I were given the two beds, or rather we were forced to take
them, and I turned in at once, after looking at the mutton broth, and
fell asleep immediately. In the night I was awakened by a child crying
in the room, and in the dim light I was startled to see the
floor--empty when I went to bed--strewn with sleeping figures.

A heap that I rightly guessed was the doctor, moved uneasily.

"Doctor," I said softly, "are you awake?"

"Yes," came the answer. "A small child has evidently mistaken me for
its father or mother. Will you have