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