We now sauntered into the fields; and seeing the cemetery, which promised from its elevation to afford a good general view of the town, we ascended, and were sorry to see so really pleasing a situation abused by filth, indolence, and barbarism.

The castle was on the elevated centre of the town; and the town sloping on all aides down to the gardens, was as nearly as possible in the centre of the plain.  When we had sufficiently examined the carved stone kaouks and turbans on the tomb stones, we re-descended towards the town.  A savage-looking Bosniac now started up from behind a low outhouse, and trembling with rage and fanaticism began to abuse us:  “Giaours, kafirs, spies!  I know what you have come for.  Do you expect to see your cross planted some day on the castle?”

The old story, thought I to myself; the fellow takes me for a military engineer, exhausting the resources of my art in a plan for the reduction of the redoubtable fortress and city of Novibazar.

“Take care how you insult an honourable gentleman,” said the over-rider; “we will complain to the Bey.”

“What do we care for the Bey?” said the fellow, laughing in the exuberance of his impudence.  I now stopped, looked him full in the face, and asked him coolly what he wanted.

“I will show you that when you get into the bazaar,” and then he suddenly bolted down a lane out of sight.

A Christian, who had been hanging on at a short distance, came up and said—­

“I advise you to take yourself out of the dust as quickly as possible.  The whole town is in a state of alarm; and unless you are prepared for resistance, something serious may happen:  for the fellows here are all wild Arnaouts, and do not understand travelling Franks.”

“Your advice is a good one; I am obliged to you for the hint, and I will attend to it.”

Had there been a Pasha or consul in the place, I would have got the fellow punished for his insolence:  but knowing that our small party was no match for armed fanatics, and that there was nothing more to be seen in the place, we avoided the bazaar, and went round by a side street, paid our khan bill,[14] and, mounting our horses, trotted rapidly out of the town, for fear of a stray shot; but the over-rider on getting clear of the suburbs instead of relaxing got into a gallop.

“Halt,” cried I, “we are clear of the rascals, and fairly out of town;” and coming up to the eminence crowned with the Giurgeve Stupovi, on which was a church, said to have been built by Stephen Dushan the Powerful, I resolved to ascend, and got the over-rider to go so far; but some Bosniacs in a field warned us off with menacing gestures.  The over-rider said, “For God’s sake let us go straight home.  If I go back to Novibazar my life may be taken.”

Not wishing to bring the poor fellow into trouble, I gave up the project, and returned to the quarantine.

Novibazar, which is about ten hours distant from the territory of Montenegro, and thrice that distance from Scutari, is, politically speaking, in the Pashalic of Bosnia.  The Servian or Bosniac language here ceases to be the preponderating language, and the Albanian begins and stretches southward to Epirus.  But through all the Pashalic of Scutari, Servian is much spoken.