e accompanied by a brother of the famous Achmet
Uiko; whose story has been related elsewhere. In spite of the caution
which the raiders displayed, the news reached Podgorica as soon as
they had crossed the border and seemingly eluded the vigilance of the
Montenegrin frontier guards. A party of Montenegrins lay in wait for
them in Dr. S.'s summer garden (a spot where we had often spent many
pleasant hours) and the Turks were challenged. As an answer the
marauders fired at their unseen challengers, doing no harm, but an
answering volley killed two of them. The rest were captured, one only
making good his escape, and were brought into the town. But the
volleys had alarmed the whole district, hundreds of men pouring into
Podgorica from all the neighbouring villages and hills, till many
thousands had assembled.
--Cetinje, March, 1902.]

But the mischief done was great. Many families emigrated, much to
Prince Nicolas' anger, for he encourages by every means in his power
the extension of the Turkish population. They bring trade and
cultivate the lands far more diligently than the Montenegrin warriors.

So it was that we witnessed during these few days the festival of the
Sultan's birthday, which seemed strangely incongruous considering the
mixed feelings of the inhabitants.

In the morning, all the town officials called on the Turkish Consul.
The militia were formed up and the whole, led by the Montenegrin War
Banner, proceeded in solemn procession to the principal mosque. On
their return, a royal salute was fired from a bastion of the old wall,
and in the evening the town was illuminated.

It was an extraordinary sight, and one not easily to be forgotten. All
the houses stuck candles in every window, by order of the Prince; the
market-place and the War Memorial were covered with lamps, but the
most striking feature of all was the illumination on a small hill
immediately behind the old town. This hill overlooks the town, and was
covered by rows of lamps. In the streets Turks, Albanians, and
Montenegrins jostled each other; at peace, at any rate, for one
evening.

A day or two later, a very different spectacle could have been
witnessed. The main street leading to the church on the outskirts of
the town was lined by waiting Montenegrins, and not a Turk was to be
seen. Soon a carriage drove rapidly from the church, with a blushing
Montenegrin girl and a gold-embroidered Montenegrin at her side. It
was the late Turkish maid