At Velika, a collection of half a dozen houses, very charmingly situated in a valley, we halted and rested for many hours while the Voivoda transacted business and received reports from a very young officer who held this dangerous command.  We commented on his youth, and were told that his father, recently dead, had held the position, and that he had inherited it.  “Besides,” continued our informant, “he is quite up to his work.”

As we dismounted, our escort unloaded their rifles, the snapping of locks and breeches bringing the excitement of the last hour or two vividly back to our memory.

The men of Velika were fierce-looking and of great stature.  Rifle, handjar, and revolver were carried by all.  Our escort were equally fine men, that fearless look so characteristic of the Montenegrin race, being accentuated here.  Yet the faces are pleasing, honest, and good-tempered.  There is to be found in the world no more splendid specimens of fighting humanity than the Montenegrin borderer.  Brave, reckless to a fault, with absolutely no fear of death, inured to every hardship, and able to live and thrive on the barest fare, they are typical of the old Viking, chivalrous and courteous, with the purest blood of the Balkans flowing in their veins.

Our meal was sumptuous.  Fish shot in the river by one of our escort on the way, a bowl of ground maize cooked in oil, raw ham, eggs, bread, cheese and onions, the whole washed down in draughts of fiery spirits.  Not a feast, I grant you, in an epicurean sense, but highly acceptable in Montenegro.  We were waited upon by two women, who were always most careful to leave the room backwards.  Our meal was very jolly, and at its conclusion we took corners in the room and slept.  About three p.m. we started again for home, taking the fugitive with us.

He had decided to return to his farm, but as we neared the Gusinje strip of land where he lived the extreme nervous tension of the morning returned to him.  Poor devil, it would be difficult to forget the sharp sighs which burst from him, when his control over himself left him for a moment, but it was with a smile and a cigarette between his lips that he left us, bounding over the ground like a deer.

In all probability he is dead by now.

In Gusinje we made a lengthy halt, while the Voivoda settled several boundary disputes between the inhabitants, our escort taking up commanding positions all round us and keeping a very sharp look-out.

It would seem that the Voivoda has right of jurisdiction in this strip of land, though how we were unable to elicit.  At any rate Albanians came and stated their cases, bringing witnesses, and amongst great noise the Voivoda gave his judgments, which seemed to be final.

On re-entering Montenegro we dismounted on the bank of the River Lim; the Voivoda pointed out a stone on the opposite side about three hundred yards distance, and taking a rifle he fired at it.  In a few seconds we were all shooting at it in turn, the Voivoda acting as umpire with the aid of my field-glasses.  It seemed a risky thing to do in a country so easily alarmed, but no rapid firing was allowed.