olished ease of a
gentleman.
The baggy blue breeches and red jackets are not worn in these regions,
and are replaced by white woollen tight-fitting trousers and jackets,
bordered with black braid. In fact, the dress strongly resembles that
worn by the Albanians, except that the black braid is narrower and
less elaborate, and the national cap of Montenegro is carried instead
of the white head-cloth or fez. The costume is national, and has not
been altered to that of the Montenegrin proper, because it is
considered warmer. The first time that Prince Nicolas visited his new
subjects a man said to him in that characteristically familiar way in
which the Prince's subjects are wont to address him:--
"Gospodar" ("Lord," and the universal form of address for the reigning
Prince), "wilt thou not exchange thy blue breeches for our white
trousers. They would suit thee better."
The answer of the Prince is not recorded.
Stephan called us into our shanty when the evening meal was ready. Our
host wished to slaughter a lamb, but we deferred that till the morrow,
and we ate what we had brought with us. It was, barring the smoke, a
delightful experience, and its charm never diminished. That hour spent
before turning in, after supper, when the tobacco tins circulate, and
the shepherds crowd in from the neighbouring huts, made an impression
which it will not be easy to forget.
The fire, with its dancing flames and uneven light, shows up the ring
of men squatting round it. Everything beyond is shrouded in
impenetrable gloom, throwing out the wild picturesque figures, with
their bronzed and honest faces, in bold relief. The ruddy glare rounds
off all hard corners and softens every inharmonious line, flashing
fitfully here and there on a steel revolver barrel. The musical voices
rise and fall, and outside the stars are shining. All is peace and
calm.
That first evening a young shepherd, strikingly handsome, with
clean-cut features, went outside and sang a wild Albanian song in our
honour, his weird chanting echoing in the mountains. Then came a
crackling of pistol-shots from the near distance, a novel way of
applause. With very happy feelings we rolled ourselves in our great
coats and went to sleep.
Next morning we rose at five, and had a delightful wash in a stream of
icy-cold water. As usual, our ablutions caused much amusement. The
mountaineer contents himself with a ladle of water poured into his
hands. Very shortly after
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