behave as they liked. It was
a most uproarious meal, and later on the Voivoda retired to a bed
which was just behind him to laugh himself out.

[Illustration: CHURCH PARADE]

On Sunday we went to church--at least we went _to_ the church and
met the Voivoda outside. It was a very hot day and the little edifice
was crowded. We had a suspicion that the worthy Voivoda came late on
purpose. He just glanced at the crowd which had overflowed into the
open space before the door, and to the relief of his staff proposed a
quiet cup of coffee instead. Under the shade of the trees, discreetly
apart from the merrymakers who were celebrating the Mass of a departed
comrade, we sat in the customary ring and were served with coffee. It
was a pleasant hour, and as the Voivoda, who was a bit of a wit, if
somewhat irreverent, said, "This is better than inside."

The church was about a quarter of a mile from the town and lay almost
hid in a beautiful wood. The bells, as is often the case, were hung
about a hundred yards away from the church on a wood scaffolding, and
on the green grass sat many groups of Montenegrins.

The occasion was a feast. Mass was being said for the soul of a man
who had recently died, and it is the custom for the dead man's
relations to give a feast to all comers. Large dishes of roast lamb
were being handed round to the men who sat in circles, the women
eating apart, and much spirit was drunk. About six priests were also
present, feasting.

We had altogether a very merry stay in Andrijevica, and the men of
Vasovic are sturdy, honest, fearless, and excellent companions.

Once, as I was admiring an old pistol worn by a man who was visiting
us--for men were continually dropping in on us at any hour, in a most
unceremonious fashion--he promptly took it off and gave it to me. It
had been carried thirty years by a priest, he told me, before it came
into his possession, and had killed at least twenty men. Afterwards I
gave him a present of six florins.

There are no police in Andrijevica, but the population take their turn
to patrol the town at night with rifles. This is not to keep order
amongst themselves, but as a guard against an eventual raid of
Albanians. Crime is unknown in this mountain town.

One afternoon we were startled to see half a dozen Turkish officers
ride into the town, accompanied by an escort of Turkish soldiers, all
fully armed. They were proceeding to Gusinje, where fighting had been
taking