we endeavoured to impress upon them our entire
ignorance of medicine. Once a man insisted on baring his leg and
showing me a horrible wound which would not heal.

Another time the school was marched out from the village of Vranjina,
probably to have an object-lesson in geography. Doubtless the boys,
after having seen real live Englishmen, would henceforth display an
intelligent interest in the position of the British Isles. They came
and spent a morning with us, and the young teacher, who spoke good
Italian, asked us many questions, such as a young child asks his
father, and equally difficult at times to answer.

Our messing arrangements were of the simplest, raw ham and eggs
forming the staple food. We bought a lamb once, but it only lasted one
meal, as everyone developed an extraordinary appetite--the parson,
Lazo our servant, and all the men in the vicinity.

When we left we had the blessing of our worthy priest and fervent
invitations to return again soon from some of the fishermen. One of
the men took a great fancy to us, urging us to come to his house in
Vranjina then and there, and "we would," he said, "drink gallons of
wine," going on next day. "At any rate," he said, as we gently
refused, "let us have a big drink together when ye come again."

We arranged our return to Podgorica ourselves, and got back within
five hours, shooting a fine pelican on the way, which was the last
shot that we fired on the Lake of Scutari.

CHAPTER IX

Stephan our servant--Virpazar--The drive over the Sutormann
Pass--Antivari and Prstan--The beauty of the bay--We are delayed by
contrary winds--We are rowed to Dulcigno--We make the acquaintance of
Marko Ivankovic--A story concerning him--We shoot together--An episode
on a lake--Vaccination--The Turkish inhabitants.

For our journey to the sea-coast towns of Antivari (Bar) and Dulcigno
(Ulcinj) we deemed it advisable to take a servant with us, and our
choice fell on Stephan, a Hungarian by birth, but a ten years' sojourn
in the Land of the Black Mountain had completely Montenegrinised him,
if we may coin a word. As he was our constant companion for several
months, it would be well to describe him.

Every statement that Stephan made had to be liberally discounted--this
we found out afterwards--for he was a born liar, and not a skilful one
at that. He had one marvellous story about a large sum of money lying
in his name in a bank in Hungary, which he must fetch in person