ith a flabby Mongolian face
hovering between the yard door and the inn, and Jan following him
discovered three horses saddled and waiting. He hastily ordered white
coffee to be prepared, and ran up again to hurry Jo and to pack. He
rushed down again to pay the bill, but found that the Montenegrin Red
Cross had charged itself with everything, very generously, so he ran up
once more to nag at Jo. The secretary, whom we called "the shadow," had
not appeared, so we inquired from the squint-eyed youth, received many
"Bogamis" as answer, but nothing definite; so we decided, as it was now
past six, that he had changed his mind and had sent this chinee-looking
fellow, whom we named "Bogami," in his place.

Jan's horse was like an early "John" drawing of a slender but antiquated
siren, all beautiful curves. Jo's would in England long ago have taken
the boat to Antwerp; her saddle stood up in a huge hump behind and had a
steeple in front, and was covered by what looked like an old bearskin
hearthrug in a temper, one stirrup like a fire shovel was yards too
long, the other far too short, and were set well at the back.

"What queer horses!" we remarked.

"Bogami," said Bogami; "when there are no horses these are good horses,
Bogami."

"Where is the secretary?"

"Bogami nesnam" (don't know).

From Uzhitze we had good horses, from Prepolji moderate, now these;
imagination staggered at what we should descend to if we did a fourth
lap to Cettinje, for instance, but we climbed up. Jo with her queerly
placed stirrups perched forward something like a racing cyclist.
Bogami's horse was innocent of garniture, save for a piece of chain
bound about its lower jaw, but he slung his great coat over the saw edge
of its backbone and leapt on. He must have had a coccyx of cast iron. We
had to kick the animals into a walk--there were fifty kilometres to go.

After a while we began to wonder if it would not be quicker to get off
and foot it, but we did catch up and eventually pass a Red Cross Turk.
We saw a soldier striding ahead. By kicks and shouts we raised a sprint
along the level road; we drew even with him, and then began a race; on
the uphills we beat him, on the downhills he caught up and passed in
front. He was a taciturn fellow, and save that he was going to Fochar we
learnt nothing about him. On a long uphill we gained a hundred yards,
and by supreme efforts held our gains. He eventually disappeared from
view, and we were rejoicing