bodies of the poor little bayoneted babies. "There are villages of
100, 150, 200 houses where there is literally not a single man. We
collect them in parties of forty to fifty and bayonet them to the
last one," The paper says it cannot publish the details, "they are
too heart-rending."

Nothing could make the luckless refugees believe that the Powers had
really given them to the Serbs. They asked piteously when the Prince
was coming to drive the Serbs out. And still the Powers did nothing.
Some Bulgars among the refugees told that life under the Serbs was
impossible. The only time they had been free from persecution was
when the Serb army was busy fighting the Bulgar army.

It was feared the Serbs would descend on Elbasan, and I carried away
a whole mule-load of valuables to save them from being pillaged, and
rode with it across country without an escort or weapon. I learnt
from the refugees that twenty-six villages had been wholly or
partially burnt and pillaged by the Serbs. Few of the refugees had
any weapons. I reported all this in vain in Scutari. Not a Power
would move. The Serbs, grown impudent, then entered strictly
Albanian territory in defiance of the International forces, and
camped in Mirdita while the Montenegrins devastated the Gashi and
Krasnichi tribes.

At last the Commission for delimiting the northern frontier started.
The Russian, troubled doubtless by a guilty conscience, had feared
to start without a strong military escort, and lack of forage made
this impossible. Hence much delay. Our military attache from Rome
represented England, but it was reported that France and Russia were
out to grab all they could for the Serbs, regardless of the
nationality of the population, and were furious whenever he
protested, for, as England belonged to the Entente, they considered
it his duty to support them on every point, regardless of fact and
justice.

More attacks of the Serbs on the Albanians in the annexed lands
brought more misery. "October 21st.--Thousands of refugees arriving
from Djakovo and neighbourhood. Victims of Montenegro." My position
was indescribably painful, for I had no funds left, and women came
to me crying: "If you will not feed my child, throw it in the river.
I cannot see it starve."

I decided to return to England after three and a half years'
absence, to try and rouse help and action there.

And I said goodbye with sorrow to Scutari, beautiful and sorrowing,
which had been my