The Skreli a lawless tribe—No man’s life safe unless the chief gives his word—Vatt prophesies a rising against the Turks—Our walks and talks—Our meeting with our neighbours the Kastrati, and with Dêd Presci their chief—A woman who avenged her husband’s death—The significant story of Kol—Manners and customs of the wild tribes—Farewell to my good friend Dêd—An incident a fortnight later. The bright sunny days I remained with the Skreli were full of interest. On every hand, from Vatt himself down to the humblest of his tribe, I received only the greatest kindness and hospitality. If I went out in Vatt’s absence, a dozen armed banditti followed me, mounting guard over me; for, as they told me, one never knew what little “accident” might happen. With the tribes of the Shiala and the Pulati they were not just then on particularly friendly terms, and there had been a series of sharp encounters a week ago. Having given their word to be responsible for my safety, it behoved them to take precautions. I walked with Vatt Marashi every day, making long excursions through the mountains by the secret paths known only to the tribe. Would I care for some sport? If I cared to come next year and bring a friend, or even two, he would let me shoot. My friends would always be welcome, and I could assure them of their safety. There was plenty of game, and lots of bears, lynx, and wolves. I should tell my friends in England, and come back for a month or two. I promised that I would, for in our walks I saw quantities of game. My friend shot several eagles, but I was not successful in bagging one. As he was stalking at my side one afternoon, his argus eyes everywhere and a cigarette in his mouth, I returned to the subject of the Turks and their “occupation” of Albania. “Bah!” he exclaimed, with a sneering curl of the lip. “They dare not come here. We, with the Kastrati, the Hoti, the Klementi, the Pulati, and the Shiala, are masters here. We have held the land always, and shall hold it still. We acknowledge no law except our own, and pay no taxes to anybody. The Turks, when they conquered Northern Albania, thought they could crush us. They tried to, but soon discovered their mistake. So ever since that they have left us severely alone, and retired into Skodra. They know full well that when we unite with our brothers, the Miriditi, in the south, then Skodra will be at our mercy.” “And if the Sultan sends his soldiers here?” “Well, and what then?” he asked, with a flash in his eyes. “Do you think we fear them? Many of them are Albanians, and would not fight us. Again, you have experienced the road here. What would an army do here? We should pick them off as fast as they came up. There are forty thousand of us Skreli alone, remember, without all the other tribes. If a Turkish army came in here, depend upon it, it would never get out again.” “And is there likely to be a rising against the Turks?” I inquired, much interested.