rds. 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 massive 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.

The Archimandrite, or Abbot, soon came down and welcomed us most
cordially, conducting us to his room, where we were regaled with the
inevitable strong black coffee. He was a big, handsome man, with the
long beard and hair which all the priests of the Greek Church wear.
Quiet and benevolent as he looked, he is famed throughout the whole
country as a mighty warrior; for in times of war the priests fight
with the soldiers for their beloved freedom. Strangely enough, in
the last war with Turkey he played an important role in saving the
very monastery of which he is now the spiritual head. He was then a
colonel, and commanded a battalion. The following story of the rout of
the Turks is taken down from his own lips.

[Illustration: THE MORACA MONASTERY]

In those years (1876-7) all this district was in the hands of the
Sultan, and the Turks had just made an unsuccessful attack upon the
Monastery of Ostrog. Their army, under the command of the famous
Mehmet Ali Pasha, was retreating on Kolasin, pursued by the
Montenegrins. On reaching the Monastery of Moraca they halted with the
intention of first destroying it, and Mehmet Ali placed a battery in a
commanding position on the opposite heights for the bombardment.

Unknown to the Turks, half a battalion of Montenegrins were stationed
there as garrison, and the Pasha, thinking that he had but a handful
of priests to deal with, sent down a small detachment to effect an
entrance. The gate was opened, and they were enticed inside. Hardly
had the last man set his foot within the courtyard when the
Montenegrins fell upon them and beheaded them every one.

The Turks, deeming all safe, sent a second detachment to assist in
bringing out the booty, and they met with a similar fate. Then Mehmet
began to suspect that something was wrong, an