Dr. S. refused to allow, as it would be considered inhospitable.

In course of time the rain stopped and our visitors left us, but only
temporarily. Stephan cooked and we went outside to dry ourselves. The
food was then ready, and after putting away a good meal we were able
to view the world with more equanimity.

After supper it came on to rain again and damped us thoroughly before
going to bed. I was very annoyed to find, after having discovered as I
fondly imagined a dry corner, that one of my pockets was full of
water. I should not have been so irritated had my tobacco been in
another pocket; it was a leather coat and held the water beautifully.
Then we tried to go to sleep. My pillow was a stone, like Jacob's, and
though I tried covering it with my coat it was of no avail, since the
cold forced me to put it on again. I do not mind a hard bed, but a
hard pillow is distinctly objectionable. We were just on the point of
sleeping when in stalked two men for an after-supper smoke and chat,
and one of them, to P.'s intense disgust, sat on his feet. It cost Dr.
S. all his diplomacy to hint that we had been up since three a.m. and
were disinclined to talk.

CHAPTER XVI

More memorial stones--We get wet again--Unwilling hosts--A fall--The
Franciscan of Zatrijebac--The ravine of the Zem--Methods of settling
tribal differences--A change of diet and more pleasant evenings--A
fatalist--Sunday morning.

Punctually at eight a.m. next morning we took an affectionate farewell
of the Fathers, though I mounted hurriedly first to avoid the
repetition of the welcoming chaste salute.

Our path lay for two hours over a rocky and barren country similar to
the naked Katunska district round Cetinje. Gone were the rich green
pasturages and wooded valleys in exchange for a waste of grey rocks.
But a large wood was ultimately reached, only a little less dangerous
than the wood of Vucipotok. Similar precautions were observed in
passing through--in fact, our carbines were carried loaded again all
day. The Albanian border was never more than a rifle-shot away.
Numerous gentle reminders of the dangers of the path existed in the
shape of memorial stones all the way along. We met several families,
all fully armed of course, driving their flocks before them to the
mountain grazing-grounds of the Kom.

It was about one o'clock when we emerged on a large barren plateau.
On the further side, just across the border, lay the Albanian vill