The Land of the Black Mountain Part 15

Towards evening we were taken and presented to Voivoda Lakic Voivodic, who was sitting in semi-state before the house of a rival drinking-place.

He had a remarkably strong face, and was of powerful build. Speedily we were introduced to his adjutant, the town captain, and other officials, and a great circle was formed of which we were the centre of attraction. Our arms were brought out and examined with great glee and appreciation; also our field-gla.s.ses came in for their usual share of admiration, and our clothes were likewise carefully overhauled.

When we laughingly said that we hoped for some sport with the Albanians and perhaps to shoot a few, our popularity was complete; our backs were clapped, and a great scene of joy and enthusiasm took place. Such remarks are liable to be taken rather literally in this region.

We gave the Voivoda and his adjutant a dinner one evening, the best that we could manage, though it certainly was not the kind of feast to which one would ordinarily invite a Duke.

Being five of us, our table was not big enough, so we joined on a second smaller and lower table at which the doctor and P. sat. P. put a salt-cellar between the upper table and the lower, saying that as they now sat "below the salt," they could behave as they liked. It was a most uproarious meal, and later on the Voivoda retired to a bed which was just behind him to laugh himself out.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHURCH PARADE]

On Sunday we went to church--at least we went _to_ the church and met the Voivoda outside. It was a very hot day and the little edifice was crowded. We had a suspicion that the worthy Voivoda came late on purpose. He just glanced at the crowd which had overflowed into the open s.p.a.ce before the door, and to the relief of his staff proposed a quiet cup of coffee instead. Under the shade of the trees, discreetly apart from the merrymakers who were celebrating the Ma.s.s of a departed comrade, we sat in the customary ring and were served with coffee. It was a pleasant hour, and as the Voivoda, who was a bit of a wit, if somewhat irreverent, said, "This is better than inside."

The church was about a quarter of a mile from the town and lay almost hid in a beautiful wood. The bells, as is often the case, were hung about a hundred yards away from the church on a wood scaffolding, and on the green gra.s.s sat many groups of Montenegrins.

The occasion was a feast. Ma.s.s was being said for the soul of a man who had recently died, and it is the custom for the dead man's relations to give a feast to all comers. Large dishes of roast lamb were being handed round to the men who sat in circles, the women eating apart, and much spirit was drunk. About six priests were also present, feasting.

We had altogether a very merry stay in Andrijevica, and the men of Vasovic are st.u.r.dy, honest, fearless, and excellent companions.

Once, as I was admiring an old pistol worn by a man who was visiting us--for men were continually dropping in on us at any hour, in a most unceremonious fas.h.i.+on--he promptly took it off and gave it to me. It had been carried thirty years by a priest, he told me, before it came into his possession, and had killed at least twenty men. Afterwards I gave him a present of six florins.

There are no police in Andrijevica, but the population take their turn to patrol the town at night with rifles. This is not to keep order amongst themselves, but as a guard against an eventual raid of Albanians. Crime is unknown in this mountain town.

One afternoon we were startled to see half a dozen Turkish officers ride into the town, accompanied by an escort of Turkish soldiers, all fully armed. They were proceeding to Gusinje, where fighting had been taking place and many men had been killed. It is very curious to observe the way that the Turkish and Montenegrin authorities visit each other, for the intricate formation of the border often necessitates the traversing of a small portion of the other's country.

Owing to the danger, everyone goes fully armed. The greatest possible harmony reigns between the Turks and Montenegrins, as the formidable array of Turkish decorations which adorn the b.r.e.a.s.t.s of all Montenegrin border officials will testify. The Albanian is the only cause of trouble, and it is chiefly against him that the Albanian borders are garrisoned by Turkish troops.

In the above-mentioned border dispute, the Turks sent down a formidable army to a.s.sist the Montenegrins and prevent an incursion into a friendly state. Truly things have changed very much, for it was not so very many years ago that Albania held aloof when Turk and Montenegrin were fighting. Their sympathies, if for either side, were with the Montenegrins, and now the hated Turk throws himself into the balance for Montenegro.

No man goes any distance unarmed. A rifle is part and parcel of his being. So it is that visiting Albanians carry theirs too, and it is no uncommon sight to see eight or ten Gusinje men, conspicuous by their white head-cloths, rifles slung over their shoulders, and a girdle of cartridges, come into Andrijevica to market, or perhaps even to consult the Voivoda on a question of blood-guilt.

No one knows in these parts when an alarm will be given, either by trumpet-call or rapid magazine firing, and each man must be ever prepared to hurry to the appointed rendezvous at a moment's notice. If he be guarding his flock, eating at home, or carrying produce to the market, it is the same; his rifle must be ready to his hand and everything left standing to answer the call to arms. Life is very real on these turbulent borders, and a chance dispute may a.s.semble a brigade of Montenegrins and a horde of Albanians, each ready to attack the other on the spot. The shepherd private knows where to find his section commander, the latter, on completion of his section, meets his company officer, companies a.s.semble, battalions form, and the brigade is ready within an hour or two.

Such is the state of affairs to-day along the whole Albanian frontier, but nowhere to such a degree as in the provinces bordering on Gusinje.

CHAPTER XIV

The Voivoda's invitation--Concerning an episode on our ride to Velika--The fugitive from a blood-feud and his story--We arrive at Velika--The men of Velika--The menu--Border jurisdiction--A shooting-match--The Kom--Pleasant evenings--A young philosopher--Sunset.

One evening the Voivoda invited us to ride with him on an official visit to Velika, an offer which we eagerly accepted.

Velika is a narrow strip of Montenegrin territory lying practically in Albania, or rather Gusinje, for the men of Gusinje owe and give no allegiance. Velika is not cut off from Montenegro, but the mountain connecting it with, so to speak, the mainland is steep and almost inaccessible, besides entailing a long and weary detour of many hours.

Therefore our path to-day would lead us across an intervening strip of Gusinje territory.

Next morning at an early hour saw us in our saddles, the Voivoda having first ascertained that our arms were in good order. "Not that there is any danger," he said. "But we never know if anything may happen, and it is well just to be prepared."

Besides the Voivoda, we were accompanied by his adjutant, a lieutenant in the standing army, who had studied in Italy, and an escort of about six men, armed with modern magazine rifles. Later on, this escort was materially increased.

About three hours' ride up the magnificent valley of the Lim brought us to a khan, and here we found another half-dozen men awaiting us, and another officer. These preparations seemed rather formidable for a journey of about an hour through a friendly country, but we knew already the uncertainty of the Albanian temper, and did not wonder.

As we led our horses across a rickety wooden bridge, the Voivoda called to us and said we were now about to enter Albania, and spoke of the temporary armed alliance between England and Montenegro, which remark seemed to please him greatly. A great cairn of stones marked the border, and the adjutant reined in his horse, for we were going to ride in single file, to tell us that it would be better to unsling our carbines. "It looked better," he said. Many Albanians could be seen working peacefully in their fields, and huts dotted the mountain-sides. It was a scene of agricultural peace, enhanced by magnificent scenery.

Suddenly, at some distance, two rifle-shots were distinctly heard, and the calm of the picture was as rudely and suddenly disturbed as if an earthquake had happened. The peaceful peasants stooped, throwing away the spade, and in exchange each had a Martini rifle in his hand, which he rapidly loaded from the bandolier of cartridges round his waist.

Men rushed out of the slumbering cottages, and a great shouting commenced.

"It is nothing," said the adjutant. "They become excited like this very often."

But I noticed our escort closing in, and every man's face wore a look of great interest. Still we rode on, just as if nothing unusual were happening.

To our left the hill ascended to a great height, and about one-third of the way up a belt of trees commenced, stretching to the top.

Towards this wood ran hundreds of Albanians, and disappeared from view. I confess that I had a most uncomfortable feeling that I was being covered by many unseen rifles. We should have stood a poor chance had they begun firing at us, for there was practically no cover near.

But our pace, that of a smart walk, neither increased nor decreased, and it ill became me to show my innermost feelings to these fearless mountaineers who so evidently considered this sudden excitement a most everyday occurrence.

The noise of the shouting, however, continued, and was answered by men in all directions. It was a regular pandemonium of yelling fiends, for the Albanians are not beautiful to look upon.

Suddenly a man appeared from some bushes close to our little party and headed straight for us, running like a deer.

He had barely reached us and seized my stirrup leather, on which he hung, panting heavily, when from the woods emerged a pursuing crowd, brandis.h.i.+ng their rifles as they ran. Within a few minutes we were surrounded by about a hundred and fifty Albanians, whose gestures were not to be misunderstood.

They wanted to kill the man at my stirrup, who looked beseechingly up to me for protection. Why he selected me I have no idea, and I did not relish the compliment at all. Our escort formed a meagre ring around us, and we were forced to halt.

"Are they going to shoot?" I asked the adjutant, who was next to me, in excusable excitement, "because if so, I would like to dismount."

It was not a pleasant feeling, perched up on a horse within fifty yards of reputed good marksmen.

"Oh no," answered the officer, "they only want the man, not you."

"Still, you are not going to hand back the man, are you?" I asked in Italian.

"We must hear what the Voivoda says," said the adjutant, shrugging his shoulders.

I looked at the man, while an excited conversation was carried on by our party and the Albanians, and found him a pleasant-looking young man; his breath was coming in great gasps from his heaving breast, but otherwise he showed no traces of excitement.

"Save me," he said in broken Serb. "They fired at me as I was working in my field. I am blood-guilty."

All this time his pursuers were evidently debating if our lives must be sacrificed as well, for to shoot the man meant killing some of us at any rate.

At this juncture several Albanians came to us and ranged themselves on our side, and amidst still greater excitement we began again moving forward.

"It is all right," laughed the adjutant, who throughout preserved the same air of utter indifference. "They daren't shoot, the cowards, and we shall take him to Velika with us, and then decide what to do with him."

"You don't seem to mind this sort of thing much," I said, "but for a beginner like myself it appears rather nervous work."

"Oh no," he answered. "I live here, and have been in many border fights. They always make a noise like that, and they very seldom shoot at big people."