laughter. He said the
Albanians would certainly put me to ransom some day, and promised
himself to contribute handsomely. He dug in the pockets of his
capacious breeches and fished out some beautifully decorated Easter
eggs a peasant had just given him, and presented one to me. Of his
people he spoke as though they were all little children. He meant
well by them. Truly. But so do many parents, who forget their
children are grown up. He meant them to go his way, not theirs. A
fatal error. He was very anxious to know how much money I had been
paid for my book, and was as inquisitive about my pecuniary
situation as the most upcountry of his subjects, and hoped the book
would bring hosts of wealthy tourists to the land. I stirred him up
by telling him that the Albanians intended some day to make a state
larger than Montenegro and take back Antivari and Podgoritza.

"Let them come!" said the old man stoutly. His eyes twinkled and he
laughed while he clasped his revolver, confessing he would not be
averse to a little war--but there was Europe to be considered.
Meanwhile I was to be sure and go to see Grahova and Vuchidol. After
a good three-quarters of an hour's talk he saw me to the door and
shouted good-bye from the doorstep.

At Nyegushi I engaged as guide one Krsto, recommended me in 1903 at
Andrijevitza by a botany professor from Prague, and while our start
was preparing went with Kapetan Gjuro Vrbitza and another officer by
a track to the mountain's edge whence we could look directly down
upon Cattaro. A gun emplacement was made there later. The two
Montenegrins amused themselves by hurling stones into Austrian
territory--feeling ran then strongly against Austria. For the first
time I heard the song:

Franz Josef da Bog ti ubio. Ti si strashno zlo uchinio!
(Franz Josef, may God strike thee dead. Thou hast wrought terrible
evil.)

Russia was still madly struggling with Japan. It was the Tsar's own
fault, said popular opinion. Prince Nikola had offered to send a
large Montenegrin army and he had declined it. Consequently only
nineteen volunteers, including two of Krsto's own relatives, had
gone to Russia's aid. Otherwise "Portartur" would never have
fallen. Krsto's cousin was engineer on one of Rozhdjestvcnski's
ships. Every one believed England had tried to Sink them by
concealing Japanese torpedo boats among the fishing fleet. They,
however, kindly absolved me from complicity in the affair, mainly
because I ha