The Land of the Black Mountain Part 12

There was no food, except a half lamb, which Stephan had brought on the pack-horse, and its condition was unpleasant from its many hours'

exposure to the sun and attendant flies. It took over an hour to cook, and by that time our ravenous hunger had pa.s.sed, stilled by a few quarts of delicious milk. The inn--for such was the character of the house--unlike similar inst.i.tutions of more civilised lands, had neither accommodation for man nor beast. There was no hay for our hungry horses, who had to wait for two hours while a man took an hour's climb up a mountain to the next village and brought back a load of 45 kilos (100 lbs.) on his back. A little thought can be given to this fact. Suffice it to say that this lean and athletic man took off his s.h.i.+rt and literally wrung the sweat from it. This, too, at the end of a long day's work. Part of the hay served for our beds, and little enough it seemed too.

P. and I were given the two beds, or rather we were forced to take them, and I turned in at once, after looking at the mutton broth, and fell asleep immediately. In the night I was awakened by a child crying in the room, and in the dim light I was startled to see the floor--empty when I went to bed--strewn with sleeping figures.

A heap that I rightly guessed was the doctor, moved uneasily.

"Doctor," I said softly, "are you awake?"

"Yes," came the answer. "A small child has evidently mistaken me for its father or mother. Will you have it?"

I feigned sleep.

Other figures were snoring peacefully and emphatically, but the tiny inmates of my hay bed were painfully awake and sleep seemed banished.

However, I must have slept again, for when I awoke the room was empty, except for Stephan, who was packing up. We had a wash in the stream and made a hurried breakfast, and were off by a fairly early hour.

Stephan had found a horse, which must have come as a blessing to him.

He had walked yesterday about thirty miles. The path was much better to-day, and we were enabled to make better pace. At a small village named Lijeva Rijeka we made a long halt to allow the doctor to transact some official business. We ate up what meat we had left, and had great fun with the village big-wigs.

Strangers are beings of rare occurrence in the mountains, and we always came in for much "courteous curiosity." Dr. S. and Stephan enjoyed answering inquiries as to who we were immensely. One time we were engineers making plans for the new road; another time we were enterprising merchants about to open up the country; and once a man remarked, when he was told that I was the British Minister, "And wears patched trousers?" He referred to the knee pads of my riding-breeches.

Our arms, as was only natural to this fighting race, attracted great interest. The carbines, of the Austrian Mannlicher system, invariably went the round to a chorus of delighted appreciation. Likewise our field-gla.s.ses, through which they would look for hours.

Shortly after leaving this village we had a fortunately short but exceedingly steep hill to climb, which brought us on to a magnificent plateau of rich green gra.s.s, carpeted with wild flowers. From this point onwards the scenery changed completely. We were in the Alpine regions. It was very beautiful, the trees covered every hill with a ma.s.s of green foliage, and every here and there a snow-capped mountain peak would appear. Not only was the scenery different, but the dwellings of the peasants took quite another style of architecture; conical thatched roofs of a height out of all proportion to the size of the house, and a ma.s.sive verandah or loggia built into the house, The inhabitants are snowed up for many months every year, and have to lay in great stores of food. But how delightful it must be here in winter! What an opportunity for snow-shoeing! The peasants can do the journey to Podgorica in about half the time on their primitive snow-shoes.

The ride from here to Kolain was nearly perfection. We skirted rus.h.i.+ng mountain torrents, through woodland glades and soft green swards; the air was glorious and cool, for though the sun was powerful there was an abundance of shade. One drawback, however, a drawback sufficient to mar our happiness, was not denied us. Every mile or so we had to plunge through a quagmire, equal to the worst South African mudhole, which is saying a great deal. Much care had to be exercised to prevent the horses getting fairly bogged or breaking their legs, but all pa.s.sed without an accident, though our condition at the end of the day was awful. We were bespattered from head to foot.

Several halts at hans were made during the day for rest, food, and milk, and about three p.m. we struck the River Tara, and had crossed the water-shed of the Adria and the Black Sea. We followed the Tara till Kolain, where we arrived about seven o'clock.

Montenegrins have no idea of judging time and distance, which is curious. There is another favourite way of describing a distance: by cigar (cigarette) smoking. You will be informed that the distance is one cigarette, which means that the traveller has time to smoke one cigarette on the way. As an ordinary smoker consumes a cigarette in about ten minutes, the distance would seem small, but it is not so. It is better to reckon two hours. Quarters of hours and cigarette-smoking measurements take a lot of learning, and cause much vexation to the spirit before they are mastered. When the stranger has mastered them, he ceases to ask, and patiently waits. One word of warning to intending travellers. If you are told that the next village is _two_ hours away, then rest awhile and eat and drink, for two hours means "X."

About seven p.m. we clattered up the little street of Kolain, which is the capital of the same-named district.

It is a beautiful mountainous tract of country, as unlike to Montenegro proper as is the sun to the moon, richly wooded with dense primeval beech forests, full of rus.h.i.+ng streams and rich pasturages.

The little town itself is rather uninteresting; it has about 1,500 inhabitants, all Montenegrin, for the Turk has almost entirely disappeared. Only in a ruined mosque and one or two dilapidated Turkish houses is the traveller reminded that once the Unspeakable was master here. The houses are all built with the afore-mentioned high conical roof and of substantial aspect.

Our inn was a curiosity, and as we drew rein before it we noticed a crowd of men in the balcony of the first or top floor, for here the ground floor was devoted to stabling. Doctor S. hastily whispered that the Governor and General of Kolain was one of the men upstairs. On going up the rickety stairs, we were at once introduced to him, and received most friendlily. He was a small wiry man, and reminded one strongly in appearance of Lord Roberts. Also, he spoke excellent German, having studied years ago in the Viennese Military Academy.

Very kindly he promised to a.s.sist us during our stay in every way, and invited us to his house next morning.

We overlooked the Market Square and had real beds, though the only available room was tiny. Dr. S. and Stephan slept somewhere else.

After the heat of the valley, we found the air very keen up here; Kolain lies over 3,000 feet, and is the highest town of any size in Montenegro.

On the following morning we visited the Governor Martinovic formally in his house. It is only recently that he has ceased to be the Artillery General of Montenegro, a post which he held all through the Turkish war, taking part in all the important engagements.

His ambition is to see the road connecting his district with Podgorica finished, which would bring the two towns within a six hours' drive of each other, instead of the present two days' very hard riding. The benefit to Kolain is obvious. At present the vast beech forests, literally rotting, could be utilised, for wood is dear in the barren districts of Montenegro. Pyrite, too, is found in great quant.i.ties. In fact, Kolain is cut off from the rest of the country. Everything must be painfully carried on horses or mules, and for a woman, other than a peasant, it is a journey of great difficulty. Side saddles are things unknown, and we heard of one lady, the wife of a foreign minister, who bravely undertook the journey, spending six days on the way from Podgorica. The Governor gave us a graphic description of the difficulties that he had experienced when he brought his family up here.

We also visited the local doctor, a most extraordinary individual with a crank. He had started a Montenegrin temperance society, called the "Band of Good Hope." At present, I believe, the three hundred odd members were all from Kolain, and it was meeting with very little encouragement. The cultivation of plums for the manufacture of spirits is a staple industry, and these peasants wish to know what they shall do with their fruit. Besides, as the Montenegrins very rarely get drunk, it seems rather an unnecessary movement, and the Prince himself does not favour it.

Bismarck once said that England's greatness began to diminish when the "three-bottle man" died out; perhaps Prince Nicolas has like thoughts of his hardy subjects, who certainly can consume enormous quant.i.ties of alcohol with impunity. Besides, it would destroy a large source of the revenue, which Montenegro cannot afford to do. In the meantime the gallant three hundred feel very unhappy.

The few days that we spent in Kolain were pa.s.sed pleasantly in daily excursions into the surrounding country shooting, though with indifferent results. The Crown Prince Danilo's birthday came one day during our stay, and Governor, staff, and officials went to church attired in glorious raiment. They literally sparkle in gold lace embroidery, orders, and decorations, and for a gorgeous but absolutely tasteful effect commend me to the gala dress of the Montenegrin high official. It is the most artistic blending of gold, crimson, blue, and white.

After the service spirits were served out free on the market-place (what agonies must the three hundred have suffered!), and a dance was formed. The national dance--in this instance the "kolo"--is usually performed by men, though the women do sometimes join in, and it is a slow and stately measure.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KOLAIN MARKET PLACE]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KOLO]

The men place their hands on each other's shoulders and form a ring, which, however, is never completed. New men can join in, but a s.p.a.ce is always left open. One step is taken sideways to the left, and then three to the right, and the movement is accompanied by singing.

The singers are three or four men on the opposite horns of the circle, who alternately chant verses in honour of the Prince.

The ring of men slowly danced their way from the Market Square to the Governor's house, where more spirits were given, and an accordion player joined the ring.

Loud cries of "ivio!" followed the cessation of every movement. We followed and went in to the Governor, to offer our congratulations and drink His Royal Highness's health. The room was quite full, two or three men being rough peasants, relations of the Governor. There is very little cla.s.s distinction in Montenegro. Often the humblest peasant can claim relations.h.i.+p with the Voivoda, or Duke, of the province, and will always be cordially received.

We felt quite ashamed of our appearance--leather coats, collarless s.h.i.+rts, and so forth--amongst such rich costumes. The complete outfit of a Montenegrin dandy costs over forty pounds, and takes a bit of beating.

Carefully tucking our rough riding-boots under our chairs, to avoid marking the contrast with our host's resplendent jack-boots of patent-leather, and b.u.t.toning up our coat collars, we endeavoured to make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible in this brilliant a.s.sembly. But in spite of our tramp-like garb, we were always highly honoured guests.

CHAPTER XII

Montenegro's oldest building--The ride to the Moraca Monastery--A perilous bridge and ascent--The Abbot's tale--We inspect the monastery--The health of the King is drunk--The relative merits of Boers and Montenegrins--The Abbot makes us presents--We visit a peasant's house and a Homeric feast--A feu-de-joie--Departure from Kolain--We are mistaken for doctors again--Raskrsnica.

In Montenegro there are, strangely enough, with one famous exception, no buildings of any great antiquity. This, however, can be easily accounted for by the repeated invasions of the Turks, who ravaged the land with a merciless fury. Montenegro was the only Balkan state which they were unable to bring to obedience, and the struggle, which began after the battle of Kossovo, has, perhaps, not reached its final stage yet, though other enemies have supplanted the Turk.

Far away in the heart of the mountains, and perched on the top of a high cliff, at whose feet the turbulent mountain torrent Moraca races past, there is situated a monastery, which takes its name from the river below.

This monastery is the only building that has escaped the scourge of the Turk, and, though often attacked, only once has it been partially burnt. Like its famous sister at Ostrog, it is constructed in a position where Nature has provided the best means of defence, and this the hand of man has skilfully utilised and improved. It was founded in the year 1252 by one of the sons of the famous Servian king, Stephan Nemanja, and dedicated to S. Nicholas. Right well has the saint watched over and protected his feof.

During our stay at Ostrog the Archbishop of Montenegro impressed upon us most strongly the necessity of visiting Moraca before leaving the country. He himself had lived there many years as the Archimandrite, and was besieged by the Turks during his sojourn within its walls.

So, accompanied by a guide, with whom the Governor of Kolain had provided us, we made an early start one morning for the monastery. We had a perfect ride through dense beech forests, skirting a noisy little stream, of which we were able to obtain a glimpse every now and then through a break in the trees. On either side of the ravine the hills rose steeply to some height. We soon pa.s.sed a lonely cross in a small clearing, erected to the memory of five Montenegrins who had been surprised and murdered there by the Turks.

It is always so in Montenegro, when the traveller is filled with a sense of peace at the grandeur of the wild mountainous scenery, or the beauty of a sylvan forest glade, a rough cross, or cairn of stones, will be pointed out where men have met a sudden and violent death.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A TYPICAL ROAD]

Once, as our path led up a steep incline, our guide told us graphically how that, a few weeks ago, both a horse and its rider had fallen down the one hundred feet into the river below. The path was very narrow, and he strongly advised us in pa.s.sing to take care, which remark seemed slightly superfluous after the vivid description with which he had just favoured us.

Crossing the stream we dismounted, and climbed to a small gra.s.sy plateau on which a church is being built for the shepherds of the district. It commanded a beautiful view. The path now ascended to a great height, and much walking had to be done, for a ridge of hills lay between us and our destination. At the top the valley of the Moraca could be seen with a magnificent background of rugged mountains. A breakneck descent of two and a half hours, most of it on foot, brought us to the river, which was crossed by a picturesque and broken-down bridge. On a cliff opposite stood the monastery.

While leading my horse over the bridge I chanced to rest for a moment on the central arch to enjoy the view. The guide, who was behind me, thrust me unceremoniously forward. It is not always safe to admire scenery from Montenegrin bridges. Certainly, on inspecting the bridge from below, he seemed to have shown no unnecessary caution. Two of the arches had completely given, and may collapse at any moment.

A very steep and dangerous path leads up to the plateau on which the monastery is situated. It was nearly the cause of a serious accident to me, for my saddle gave, and began to slip backwards. Had the horse made one false step at this critical moment I should have been dashed over a precipice of eighty feet. Just before the gates stands a small inn, where we left our horses and proceeded on foot.

The monastery strongly resembles a fortress, for the ma.s.sive walls surrounding it are liberally loop-holed, and it can be entered from one side only. We entered a large courtyard with buildings on all sides. At the back a great mountain ascends obliquely, and in front an inaccessible precipice descends to the river. It was doubtless a tough morsel for the Turks in the olden days, though modern artillery would make very short work of it.