st and then,
for he took his literary qualifications very seriously, sat down and
wrote a verse about me after considerable labour and much sprawling
over the table.

Danilovgrad was the home of another reformer, Dr. Marusitch, a
Montenegrin who had but recently returned from Manchuria after many
years' service as a surgeon in the Russian Army. A wild,
enthusiastic creature--good-natured, well-meaning and indiscreet. For
Montenegro he was rich. He had just married an extremely beautiful
young woman, and the hospitality of the two was unbounded. He at
once asked me to stay six months as his guest and write, with his
aid, the standard book on Montenegro. Like all who had lived in
Russia, he was a hard drinker and tipped down alcohol in alarming
quantities. He was a strange mixture of the old world and the new.
Took me to see the grave of Bajo Radovitch, who fell in
1876 after having cut off fifteen Turkish heads; admired the bloody
feat, but blamed Germany for keeping up militarism. He had no
opinion at all of the Montenegrin Government, and poured out a
torrent of plans for its reform. He was all for peace, he said, and
wanted to rearrange all the world--which badly needed it. I little
thought what would be his fate when I wished him goodbye, and
promised to look him up next year.

On the road to Nikshitch we came up with the military wagons
carrying weapons, mainly revolvers and sword bayonets up-country for
distribution. Russia had sent a revolver for each man in the
country, and great was the rejoicing. Russia, when she re-armed her
forces, usually bestowed the old weapons lavishly on Montenegro.
Artillery was soon to follow.

We left the road and struck up-country towards Durmitor, along with
a string of pack-horses laden with the Russian weapons which went
with an armed escort. By the way we passed two stones recording
recent murders, showing that blood feuds were not yet extinct.

At Zhabljak, Durmitor, I spent two amusing days seeing the
distribution of arms. Men flocked in from all parts, were delighted
with their new toys, and Russia leapt up in every one's estimation.
No ammunition was served out for, as an officer remarked, "It would
all be wasted." They conversed on blood and battle and clicked their
new revolvers. "How we should like to go over and try them on the
Turks," they said. "But we dare not cross the border because of the
Powers."

Two chetas (battalions) were armed and had left when a bugle