The Land of the Black Mountain | Page 2

pilgrims--Varied
costumes--We meet the Vladika of Montenegro--The ordeal of hot
coffee--A real pilgrimage--The shrine of S. Vasili--The ancient
hermit--A miracle--Niksic--The gaudy cathedral and the Prince's
palace--We are disappointed at Niksic
CHAPTER XIX
The Club and its members--Gugga--Irregularities of time--The absence
of the gentle muse and our surprise--The musician's story and his
subsequent fate--The Black Earth--A typical border house--The ordeal
of infancy--A realistic performance which is
misunderstood--Concerning a memorable drive--A fervent prayer
CHAPTER XX

We reconsider our opinion of Cetinje--A Montenegrin wake and its
consequences--A hero's death--Montenegrin conversation--Needless
appeals to the Deity--We visit the hospital
CHAPTER XXI
The Law Court in Cetinje--The Prince as patriarch--A typical
lawsuit--Pleasant hours with murderers--Our hostel--A Babel of
tongues--Our sojourn draws to a close--The farewell cup of coffee and
apostrophe
INDEX

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
H.R.H. PRINCE NICOLAS OF MONTENEGRO Frontispiece
THE GRAF WURMBRAND, IN THE BOCCHE DI CATTARO
THE BOCCHE DI CATTARO
NJEGUSI
THE GUSLAR
MONTENEGRIN INFANTRY
THE VLADIKA AT THE MONASTERY OF IVAN BEG
THE PRINCE'S PALACE
GENERAL VIEW OF CETINJE
THE FEMALE PRISONERS
THE PRISONERS DANCING

THE VIZIER BRIDGE
GENERAL VIEW OF PODGORICA
THE RIBNICA
THE GRAVE SCENE AT MEDUN
VOIVODA MARKO
SIMEON POPOVIC AND HIS CHAPEL
SPUZ
ACHMET UIKO
SOKOL BACO
THE POP OF VRANJINA
AN ALBANIAN GIRL
VIRPAZAR
ANTIVARI OR BAR
MARKO IVANKOVIC
THE BRIDGE AT RIJEKA
VACCINATION
BAZAAR LIFE, DULCIGNO
THE CONSULAR QUARTER, SCUTARI
KOLASIN--THE MARKET-PLACE
THE KOLO

A TYPICAL ROAD
THE MORACA MONASTERY
OUR HUT AT RASKRSNICA
ANDRIJEVICA
CHURCH PARADE
VELIKA
MORINA
THE FUGITIVE OF VELIKA
THE VASOJEYICKI KOM
ALBANIANS AND MONTENEGRINS AT ANDRIJEVICA
THE RAVINE OF TERPETLIS
THE PATH THROUGH THE VUCIPOTOK
AFTER MASS AT ZATRIJEBAC
MONTENEGRIN WOMEN
THE LOWER MONASTERY, OSTROG
THE UPPER MONASTERY
THE CHURCH, NIKSIC
THE CHURCH AND THE PALACE
A REALISTIC PERFORMANCE
AN ALBANIAN HOME ON THE CRNA ZEMLJA

INTRODUCTION
"What a terrible country!" said a lady tourist to me once in Cetinje,
"nothing but barren grey rocks; and what poverty! I declare I shan't
breathe freely till I am out of it again."
This is a common opinion of travellers to Montenegro, and one that is
spread by them all over Europe. And yet how unjust! A fairly large
number of tourists take the drive from beautiful little Cattaro up that
wild mountain-side and through the barren Katunska to Cetinje. A few
hours later they return the way they came, convinced that they have
seen Montenegro. A few, very few, prolong the tour to Podgorica and
Niksic, returning with a still firmer conviction that they have penetrated
into the very fastnesses of that wonderful little land. These chosen few
have at least seen that all is not bare and rocky, that there are rich green
valleys, rushing mountain torrents, and pleasant streams.
If they are very observant they will likewise notice that the men of
these parts are more wildly clad and fiercer-looking than their more
polished brethren of the "residence." Rifles are carried more universally
the nearer lies Albania, and in Podgorica itself they will have
seen--particularly if chance has brought them there on a
market-day--crowds of savage-looking hill-men, clad in the white serge
costume of Albania, standing over their handful of field produce with
loaded rifles; stern men from the borders with seamed faces; sturdy
plains-men tanned to a mahogany tint by the almost tropical sun of the
valleys; shepherds in great sheepskins, be it ever so hot; and haughty
Turks, hodjas, and veiled women, all in a crowded confusion, haggling
and bartering. Quaint wooden carts drawn by patient oxen, their huge
clumsy wheels creaking horribly; gypsies with thunderous voices
acting as town criers; madmen shrieking horribly; blind troubadours
droning out songs of heroes on their guslars. If the tourist has witnessed
and understood all this, then he has seen something of Montenegro. But
beyond those lofty mountains which rise on either side of the carriage
road, live these same people in their rude villages. There are towns far
away, unconnected by any road, to reach which the traveller must

journey wearily by horse and on foot, over boulder-strewn paths, by the
side of roaring torrents, through the cool depths of primeval forests,
and over the snow-clad spurs of rugged mountains. There he will find
men accustomed to face death at any moment, who delight in giving
hospitality, and who talk of other lands as "the world outside." These
are the Montenegrins to whom we owe some of the most pleasant
reminiscences of our lives.
Our book does not describe the whole country, as unfortunately we
were unable to visit the northern districts and the lofty Durmitor, but
we certainly saw the more interesting half, namely, the whole of the
Albanian frontier.
Amongst those hardy borderers we made many warm friends, but it
would be invidious to mention names amongst so many. We came to
the country with a single introduction, to Dr. Stefanelli, the companion