Through the Land of the SerbDurham, M. E. (Mary Edith)
History
Through the Land of the Serb
Durham, M. E. (Mary Edith)
Montenegro -- Description and travel; Serbia -- Description and travel
start that very afternoon, and did. I was to ride to Berani, thence to
Pech (Ipek), thence to Dechani; from Dechani to Prisren and back to
Andrijevitza across country--or rather, I was to try to do so, but the
whole expedition was pleasingly vague, as it depended entirely upon
"circumstances," that were all Turks, and therefore uncontrollable.
Everyone was full of enthusiasm, and told me above all things to go to
Dechani, the most holy shrine in Stara Srbija. My belongings were then
overhauled, for it was necessary to ride as light as possible. I tipped
all my things on to the bed. Quite a number of people came to help. My
idea was chocolate and underclothing. The Montenegrins thought
otherwise. One stalwart fellow took my second skirt off the wall.
"This," he said, "is very pretty and not heavy. Take it. Then if you
meet any foreign consuls you can walk about with them." This bright idea
pleased everyone, for your Montenegrin dearly loves "to peacock." They
selected a scarlet silk necktie to complete the conquest of the consuls,
and considered that this was all the outfit that was absolutely
necessary. The kapetan arrived with the letter, the pony, and the guide.
"I give you this lady to take care of," he said; "you will protect her
and serve her well, or when you come back you will go to prison." I
laughed. "I am not joking," he said sternly. I mounted with my gay
light-heartedness rather dashed, waved "good-bye" and started. The pony
was a wiry one, the wooden pack-saddle padded with a cape quite
comfortable, except that loops of cord were its only stirrups, and the
clean, honest eyes of Radovan, the man to whom I had been handed over,
filled me with trust from the first. The road to Berani was now lonely.
Near the border a man on horseback suddenly clattered across the valley.
"Woman," he shouted, "stop!" "Go on, and do not speak," said Radovan;
"he is a Turk, and a bad one. If he wishes to ask something he knows
that he should ask me." The Turk drew alongside. "Woman, answer me. What
is the time?" Radovan looked at the sky and gave the approximate hour.
The Turk took no notice but shouted at me again. After this he said a
good deal in a language I did not understand, and rode away. Radovan
laughed. "I know that man," he said; "he wanted to see if you had a good
watch."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account