nt; as thanks I lent my tobacco-tin, which they gratefully
emptied.

Montenegrins carry tobacco in a tin and roll their own cigarettes; no
other form of smoking is known amongst them, except the tchibouque by
some of the older men, a relic of Turkish times. The tobacco is
excellent, being often equal to the best Turkish, and ridiculously
cheap.

We owe these worthy fisherfolk thanks for having given us one of the
finest moonlight effects that it has ever been our lot to witness. We
were returning home late one evening in our canoes, and as we rounded
a corner of the island we came suddenly on their encampment. The men
in their ragged but artistic costumes were sitting round numerous
camp-fires cooking their evening meal on the bank, which sloped gently
upwards, an old ruined fortress or "kula" forming a background.

As we gazed the moon came slowly over the brow of the intervening
hill, illuminating the scene with its soft and silvery radiance,
blending fantastically with the ruddy flames of the fires.
Cooking-pots steamed and bubbled, and one group of men broke into an
old Montenegrin fighting song, the water of the vast lake sparkled and
danced in the distance, and we felt that only we and this rough group
of fishermen were alive in the world.

It was an idyllic life that we led during our stay at Vranjina, though
every comfort known to civilisation was lacking. We lived as did the
hardy fishermen of the island, and a hard life it proved to be. The
heat, however, was something tremendous, quite precluding any exertion
from ten in the morning till the late afternoon. We had even in the
early morning to use the greatest care to keep our necks and arms
covered from the scorching rays of the sun, for bad blisters and burns
were the sure reward of carelessness. The concussion of rapid shooting
combined with the heat often brought on headaches so violent that to
fire another cartridge was exquisite torture. One thing we did not
suffer from, and that was loneliness.

The news of our visit spread to all the neighbouring villages, and we
had a constant stream of visitors. Our swim, which we took after our
early morning shoot in a delightfully cool spot, where a spring
bubbled into the lake, was invariably witnessed by a group of
fishermen, and very much amused they were too over our hair-brushes,
soap, and other toilet articles.

They sometimes ascribed powers of healing to us, and were evidently
quite distressed when