Visitors to Montenegro usually spend a day in Scutari, for the route by steamer is the only perfectly safe way of entering the town.  Passengers by the steamer are not required to have their passports vised, if they state their intention to the official, who promptly boards the steamer on its arrival, to return by it next day.  But names and particulars are carefully noted and laid before the Governor.  During this particular visit, we were already well known to the Turkish officer in charge of this department, a pleasant little fellow, inordinately proud of his French which he had just learnt; but still he worried us greatly, calling daily and even sending obvious spies to find out how long we really meant to stay and our object.  We tried to impress upon him that we had no base intentions on the town, and were really quite harmless individuals, but he remained friendlily suspicious till he bade farewell to us on board the little steamer Danitza.

It is about four hours to Plavnica, and the trip across the lake is very fine, surrounded as it is by magnificent mountains and dotted with tiny wooded islands along its northern bank.  We did not disembark at Plavnica, the nearest point for Podgorica, but proceeded via Virpazar up the river to Rijeka, the final station of the steamer and connecting link with Cetinje.  The voyage up to Rijeka is delightful, as the boat threads her way through a narrow channel between lofty green hills.  It is a picture of as true sylvan beauty, peace and quiet, as can be found on many of the upper reaches of the Thames.

At Rijeka we waited in an inn for the carriage, which we had ordered by telegraph from Cetinje to take us back to Podgorica, and were startled to hear a revolver-shot fired in the village.  Everyone was running excitedly to a certain small “dugan,” or shop, and thither we also directed our steps and found a bleeding Montenegrin standing over a prostrate and insensible Turk.

What had happened was as follows.  The Montenegrin had bought some tobacco from the Turk, and claimed to have been given two kreutzers (under a halfpenny) short in change, whereupon the Turk accused the other of having hidden it.

“Thou art a liar!” promptly cried the Montenegrin, and received a bullet in the thigh as an answer from the enraged Turk.  Not seriously hurt, the Montenegrin, equally quickly, drew his revolver and, using it as a club, knocked the Turk insensible; in fact, he was thought to be dead.  However, we afterwards heard that he had recovered.

Shortly afterwards we were spending a few days in Cetinje, and were again witnesses of the final act of another small drama which was enacted about this time.

One morning we saw about twenty Montenegrins brought into the town heavily chained, and on inquiry we were told the following story.