rticle about the chequered history of that
little place. He is, in fact, like his late grandfather of Montenegro,
the father of his people. But they have different ideas about the
duties of a father; and while Nikita's laugh was pretty grim, the
deep whole-hearted laugh of Alexander takes you into the sincere
recesses of the man.

During the Bosnian offensive there was launched an expedition over the
Save into the goodly land of Syrmia, one of those Yugoslav provinces
of which the Austro-Hungarian Empire was to be stripped. This
expedition had a varying success, for the assault that was attempted
in the neighbourhood of Mitrovica was not skilfully conducted; and the
Serbian army, for the first time in the War, was worsted. Then troops
in Bosnia, just before the grand attack on Sarajevo, were thrown into
confusion by an order from the Montenegrin King who, without vouching
any reason, called his army back. The Serbian troops had no other
course than to retreat as well; and their enemies delivered, all the
rest of September and throughout October, a tremendous thrust against
the army that was shielding Valjevo. The Serbs, who were lamentably
short of arms, munition, clothing and every sort of hospital
equipment, did not care to think of the approach of winter. They
hurled themselves against the Austrian swarms--and up to this period
they had lost, in dead and seriously wounded, more than 130,000 men.

THE TACTICS OF THE MONTENEGRIN KING

The co-operation between Serbs and Montenegrins for the Bosnian
campaign was the occasion of some of Nikita's usual devious diplomacy.
He summoned, as we have seen, a superfluous Skup[vs]tina, whose
resolutions would enable him to go to Francis Joseph, his secret ally,
with a tale of _force majeure_. And he telegraphed to his grandson,
the Serbian Prince-Regent: "My Montenegrins and myself are already on
the frontiers, ready to die in the defence of our national
independence." While his ill-equipped warriors pushed on to Budva,
arrived before Kotor, seized Fo[vc]a, Rogatica and other towns,
pressing on until they stood before the forts of Sarajevo, the
disreputable Royal Family, jealous as ever of Belgrade, were plunging
deeper and always deeper into treachery. The Serbian officers, General
Jankovi['c] and Colonel (now General) Pe[vs]i['c], who, mainly at the
instance of Russia, had been sent to reorganize the Montenegrin army,
saw themselves hampered at every turn by the Court cliqu