woman
who had charge of the mules--and Spiro Martinowitch, an old and
respectable Montenegrian, with Milo his son, to act as guides. We
began the ascent about ten o'clock. Close outside the walls was
pointed out a village, the residence of a race of valiant butchers,
who have ever been at feud with the Montenegrians, by whom their
numbers have been much reduced. A tale was related of three having
defended themselves against four hundred of the enemy. After following
the steep but otherwise good road for about two hours, we arrived at a
stone with different species of eagles on two sides,[10] which marks
the boundary of the respective territories. The road instantly
degenerates into an indifferent mule-track. It took another hour to
gain the principal ascent, then, pursuing our way along the high land,
we reached a small hamlet, where we stopped a few minutes to comfort
ourselves with what could be procured. The path from hence to Cettigna
passes over a country which, at any season, must appear barren and
inhospitable. The peaks of the highest mountains in Montenegro rise
immediately above it. The ground was now covered with about an inch of
snow, and the air extremely cold. A few stunted bushes of beech
underwood, which serves for fuel, seemed to be the only vegetation.
Every thing else, grey rocks, sharp and rugged, to the smallest
fragment. We passed on our way the village of Negusi, the paternal
seat of the family of Petrowitch. Here the present Vladika was born,
in a mansion which was pointed out to us. It is a long-shaped hut,
built of loose stones, without windows or upper story. A somewhat
better dwelling is the property of the bishop's uncle, who governs the
village and adjacent district. Passing on by the hamlets of Bayitzi
and Donikrai, we arrived at the Episcopal residence about half-past
five in the evening, and immediately took up our quarters in the first
hotel. I will not say that the decorations of the chief apartment were
in the highest style of magnificence; but the bed was clean, and to
find any thing clean in these parts may be considered a victory
gained. Our hostess was from Cattaro, the seat of every refinement to
the ideas of a Montenegrian; and our host was a kind civil man,
speaking both French and Italian, and had been formerly engaged in the
great war. For the present he found it convenient to remain in
Montenegro, having been lately concerned in an "unfortunate affair"
near Budua, where cer