eral generations. But it wakes at last and howls for blood. In
the breast of the South Slav, both Serb and Montenegrin, it has not
yet even thought of slumbering. Montenegro approved the crime.

It was to lead to "something"--indefinite, mysterious. Serdar
Jovo Martinovitch ruled in Kolashin, a strong man then, who rode the
clansmen on a strong curb. He had come up there as governor about
four years ago on account of the constant fighting, not only on the
border, but between the Montenegrin plemena (tribes). The latter he
had put a stop to. Thirty years ago he assured me the clans were in
a state of savagery. His own life was very Balkan; many women
figured in it; and to escape blood-vengeance he had fled--with one
of them--to Bulgaria, where he had served long years in the
Bulgarian Army; and had returned to Montenegro only after the affair
had blown over. Of the Bulgars he spoke in the highest terms.

At Andrijevitza, to which he passed me on, great excitement reigned.
Some great event was expected at no distant date. I was told that it
was now impossible for me to go to Gusinje, but that next year all
would be different. That they were well informed about the Bulgar
rising which was about to take place in Macedonia I cannot, in the
light of what followed, doubt. Prince Danilo's birthday was feted
magnificently with barbaric dances by firelight, national songs and
an ocean of rakija. We drank to the Prince and wished him soon on
the throne of Prizren, a wish which at that time every Montenegrin
expected to see soon realized. The reign of the Turk, I was told,
was all but over. I remarked that this had been said for a hundred
years at least and was told that the end must come some time, and
that I should see it soon.

Meanwhile, the' authorities of Andrijevitza were extremely anxious
to get me to go across the border. Though I was not aware of it at
the time, they meant to use me to cover a spy. That the expedition
was dangerous I knew. The Ipek district had scarcely been penetrated
by a foreigner for fifteen years, and was a forbidden one. The
danger I did not mind. My two months' liberty each year were like
Judas's fabled visit to the iceberg--but they made the endless vista
of grey imprisonment at home the more intolerable. And a bullet
would have been a short way out. I made the expedition and gained
thereby a reputation for courage which in truth I little deserved.

As I was being used for political purposes,