Now, though we will not go so far as to say that he was the sole object of our visit to Dulcigno, still he did certainly influence our plans.  Once, during our very first stay at Podgorica, we met an Austrian ornithologist and sportsman who told us a wonderful experience of his at Dulcigno with this very man, Marko Ivankovic.  He had come to Dulcigno one night by steamer, to spend a few months in this paradise for sportsmen, and as he entered a lowly inn, a man of almost repellent aspect sat brooding gloomily, evidently lost in a fit of abstraction.  This man gave no greeting to the new-comer, who sat down at the further end of the table and ordered food.  Shortly afterwards the man rose and silently left the room.  An hour later this same man reappeared in the doorway, cap in hand, and humbly asked permission of the ornithologist to seat himself at the same table.  The permission was readily given, and the man (it was Marko) came near and attempted to kiss L.’s coat.  This action signifies the greatest humility, and is only accorded to persons of the highest rank.  L. remonstrated strongly, saying—­

“Why dost thou kiss my coat?  I am a man like thyself, and no prince.  What wouldst thou from me?”

“Sir, I see that thou art a hunter (L. had his dogs with him), and I would fain be thy servant.”

L. wanted a man, and from his conversation he soon gathered that this was no inexperienced huntsman, and so they spoke of terms.  But Marko at first would not hear of anything of the sort, saying he would serve for nothing.  Naturally L. refused to accept his services gratis, and at last an arrangement was made that Marko should first prove his capabilities and serve a term of probation.  Even then Marko refused to take money, but a present of a gun or some article to the value of his services at so much a day.

With this plan L. was forced to be content, and two days afterwards the expeditions into the neighbouring country were commenced.  To tell the story in L.’s own words:—­[2]

“After we had been together some weeks Marko became gloomy and cast down, unlike his usual merry self.  It was no easy task to persuade him to tell me what was the matter.  It appeared that he was in debt, and should not the money be paid very shortly, his house and all that was his would be seized.  Of course I gave him the money, which happened to be more than his due up to that day, and he took it as a loan.  This condition he insisted on, and I laughingly assented.”

It was then that we first heard of Achmed Uiko, who told us the story of his life in Podgorica.  Jovan, of the tribe Kuc, had been publicly beaten in Dulcigno at this time, and in revenge had shot the Governor, who had ordered this ignominious punishment.  Jovan had fled to Alessio, in Albania, with a price upon his head, and certain persons came to Marko to beg him to follow the assassin and bring back his head.  Marko was then in L.’s service, and confided his dilemma to his master, who told him that if he but harboured such thoughts he was not fit to be his servant.  Marko then refused, and Achmed Uiko accepted, murdering Jovan in a boat while fishing, and the head was subsequently displayed in Dulcigno.  This is a noteworthy episode, for it led to the abolition of corporal punishment and of the barbarous custom of displaying heads on poles.