wards the captain arrived. He insisted on
going out shooting with us, as well as the schoolmaster. We plunged
into the forest and were soon deep in the excitement of stalking.

P. was with the captain, and the schoolmaster and myself soon lost
them. Later on, I too lost my companion, and it being near our
advertised time for dining, I made my way back, which presented very
little difficulty. On coming in view of the clearing I was received
with shouts. Not being gifted with the Montenegrin skill at hearing
and talking at great distances I walked on, and was ultimately able to
distinguish the question as to where I had left P. I answered that I
had not seen him for hours, and passed on to our hut.

The excitement seemed to wax, and Dr. S. speedily enlightened me as to
the cause. Both the captain and the schoolmaster had returned, _i.e._
they had stood and talked from a hill about a mile away, saying that
P. was lost.

"Well," I said, "P. knows at what time we eat, and I have never known
him to be late for a meal yet. And it is in an hour's time."

"But the woods are dangerous. There are bears. The Albanian frontier
is not far away. He can lose himself for hours," were among the
remarks that I could hear.

"Considering that he has a magazine carbine and a revolver, I don't
think that we need be afraid. It is easy enough to find one's way
back, and P. will have the sense to watch the sun. He has been out
alone before in his life," I remarked, feeling rather irritated.

Then an old lady began abusing me for having deserted him, "and he so
young, a mere child," etc., until I fairly lost my temper.

"You must not take it amiss," explained the doctor, who knew me. "It
is only their love for you."

"Thanks," said I. "But that is enough. If that old lady doesn't stop
expressing her love for me shortly ----. Look here, doctor," I
continued, waxing wrath, "you stop her. You understand the more
talkative sex better than I do. I'll stop the men."

About ten minutes before dinner P. turned up, serenely unconscious of
the trouble, telling us how he had found a delightful shepherd, who
had carried him off to his shanty and feasted him on bread and milk,
but that he was still ravenously hungry. The incident did not close
here either. When P. heard of the anxiety caused by his absence he
took it as a personal insult to himself, and began abusing everyone
in his turn. But all the same, the people remained obdurate, and we
were